#it might also open me up and make me brave enough to eventually start “proper” horse riding again

[saturnvs]

tomorrow i'm visiting a stable where i might start having equine therapy eventually.. nervous but excited!!

[littleladymab]

@qt-kt and i have been lost in kalluzeb hell so i decided to write some little canon-compliant vignettes to feed us only i've lost steam half-way through because i need to return to things with Plot™ so enjoy the ones i have written i might eventually return with the second half.

Edit to say if you're still liking and reblogging this one please go dig a little further and find the full version up on AO3, get all the goods with a little extra leg work. If i remember to update this post again I'll include a link because I'm on mobile rn but please go read the finished thing that doesn't have the typos and is also, you know, finished.

+++

"You're doing that thing again," Zeb says, his voice cutting in through the silence that had settled in around him.

"What thing?" Kallus asks, annoyed at himself. He hadn't even heard Zeb approaching.

Instead of a proper answer, Zeb gestures a clawed hand at Kallus' face -- swirling it absently in the air like he means to indicate a general miasma than a specific problem. "That thing with your face."

Kallus frowns and Zeb says, "Ah, you're making it worse."

"This is just my face."

"It's your gloomy face. Your Imperial face."

"This is just my face," Kallus repeats. "Just because I was one of the few Imperials you knew who didn't hide behind a full helmet doesn't mean that it's an Imperial face."

Zeb shrugs as he drops onto the bench beside Kallus. Doesn't ask if he can; simply does. A gesture of familiarity that Zeb insists he's earned after Atollon (and Lothal and Skystrike and Bahryn), but he's still a stranger to. "You don't make it all the time. Just when you're in a mood."

So Kallus tries a different tactic. "What makes it different?"

The Lasat leans in close and studies him, looking for the line that divides Kallus Imperial face from this mysterious second one. "This one is emptier," he says with a low voice like he's telling a secret. "You tend to make it when you're alone or troubled. When you think too hard."

How long must you have looked at me to figure that out? Kallus wants to ask but doesn't. It's a bridge he's not willing to cross -- even after Atollon (and Lothal and Skystrike and Bahryn). "The old me has been dumped out when I defected," Kallus answers instead. "There's a lot of me to fill back up, but I guess I haven't really figured out the man I want to be yet." It's more honest an answer than he originally wanted to give and any attempt at turning it into a joke failed the moment he opened his mouth.

It makes Zeb laugh, though. Loud and full-bodied as he throws his head back with the force of it. An overwhelming outpouring of emotion that Kallus wonders if he'll ever be brave enough to experience.

Instead he soaks up the sound. Drinks it in and lets it start to fill the hollow empty corners of himself that still cling to that Imperial façade.

+++

This is how he falls in love, he realizes -- with the rebellion, with this new life, with Zeb. He is a jug, emptied and wanting, slowly filled to the brim. By the time Kallus realizes, it's too late and the contents are already overflowing.

+++

It was always nothing until, suddenly, too late, it was something.

+++

"Everyone still calls you Kallus," Zeb remarks one day as they help organize crates of supplies.

He shrugs. "I still call myself Kallus."

Zeb regards him curiously. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why not use your name?"

He furrows his brow and takes a moment to stretch his back. "My name is Kallus."

Zeb seems frustrated by this response, which doesn't really make sense. He has no reason to be so invested in what people call Kallus. "No more than my name is Orrelios. It's just weird that you're content with everyone calling you by your last name."

Kallus shrugs again. "Truthfully?" he asks as he reaches for the next stack of crates.

"Preferably."

"I've long since stopped thinking of myself as Alexsandr. As long as I've been a part of the Empire, I've always been Kallus. Or I've been ISB 021, or Fulcrum. Commander. Agent. Rebel." From the corner of his eye, he can see that Zeb has stopped moving and is watching him intently. "I haven't been Alexsandr since I enlisted so… A long time now," he finishes with a huff of laughter.

Zeb makes a grumble that might be in agreement, might be to the contrary, but says nothing.

It's not until they're finished with the crates that Zeb finally asks, "Then can I call you Alexs?"

Kallus stops, stares, tries to wrap his head around the question. "Have you been thinking about that this whole time?" It's the only response he can manage.

"Maybe," Zeb answers awkwardly as he rubs the back of his head and refuses to meet Kallus' gaze. "It just, I dunno. Seems unfair? Your name is a part of you, so why not reclaim it?"

Why not? he thinks in a sudden reckless rush. Why not remake himself now that he's cast off the Imperial trappings?

The thought is weirdly terrifying. Who is he, if not himself? He knows Kallus, the limits and capabilities of that man. He doesn't know Alexs.

"You can," he says slowly. "Though I may not answer to it. Not until I get used to it."

"A work in progress," Zeb agrees, cuffing him on the shoulder.

Yes, that sounds right. Not broken, just emptied. A work in progress, waiting to be filled.

+++

It was always nothing until, suddenly, too late, it was something.

+++

Kallus looks from the packet of freeze-dried vegetables to Zeb. "You're serious?"

Zeb takes the packet with a huff. "Of course I am."

"You know how to cook?"

"Don't sound so surprised, Agent." He taps Kallus square between the eyes with the packet -- making him scrunch up his nose. "There's a lot of things about me you don't know."

Kallus opens his mouth prepared to ask before he realizes he doesn't know where to start. He doesn't know where he's allowed to cross. As always he's too aware of his role in Zeb's past. That there's a huge chunk of time ripped away in the after-effects of war and eradication. "What is your favorite thing to cook?"

"Stew. A recipe I learned from my uncle. I've never been able to get it right because there's some spice and a root that were native to Lasan that I don't have access to anymore, but I enjoy the challenge of trying to find a replacement." Zeb answers without hesitation, without any sort of insinuation. Perhaps he forgot who he was talking to. "Most of the time though I just like to find new ways to make basic rations taste better. Very rarely do I get to make an actual dinner like this."

"Ah, rations. I'll have you know I was very excited to finally not be eating the standard Imperial fare that even these basic rations were oddly delicious."

Zeb laughs -- not the full-chested guffaw he does, but a softer, fonder chuckle. The one he only gives when its just the two of them, caught by surprise by the suddenness of the comment whenever Kallus lets slip something new. "Then you're staying for dinner."

Everything goes hot and cold inside Kallus all at once, though he's careful to keep the reaction from his face. "I can't."

"Yeah, you can. You just don't want to."

Kallus opens his mouth only to find that once again he's at a loss for words. "I shouldn't," he amends. Does he want to? That's a question he doesn't give himself a chance to consider. "I… have work to do."

Zeb doesn't look up from the pan that he's mixing the vegetables on. The Ghost doesn't have a large kitchen, but its dwarfed even further by the side of the Lasat delicately using a pair of long, thin sticks to stir. "Alright. Help until you have to leave."

There's plenty that Kallus can respond to for that. A hundred little quips come to mind, but he dismisses them as he moves to the sink to wash his hands. He moves up to the counter alongside Zeb, taking up the indicated knife and dicing the meat. It's been ages since he's done any sort of food prep. Not since he left home. The Empire always provided.

The shapes he makes are lopsided and uneven and more than once he comes close to slicing the tip of his finger. But he's determined to see the task through, even when Zeb does that chuckle again which means he spares a moment to watch.

"Don't laugh," Kallus says and nudges Zeb with his elbow.

"I should have known you weren't perfect," Zeb answers.

This startles a laugh of disbelief out of Kallus. "Oh, no. No, there's your first problem. Why would you ever think that?"

"A trick of the light." Zeb takes the cutting board from Kallus' frozen hands as if he has no idea the implication his words have. "Fill that up with water, will you?" he asks, jutting his chin at the pot in question.

Kallus takes it wordlessly from the stovetop and steps away to the sink.

This is why he can't stay. He forgets who he is. The domesticity is nearly overwhelming in a time and place where he can't afford it. Soon, Kanan and Ezra will be back from their training. Hera will return from the command center. Sabine will emerge from the depths of the base, covered in paint. They will be the family that Kallus used to hunt -- and Zeb has the gall to joke that, in the right light, he might have thought Kallus was perfect.

"I have to go," Kallus says, setting the pot back on the burner. He doesn't look at Zeb as he dries his hands off on his pants and turns for his jacket.

There's a grumble of an unasked question from the Lasat, but in the end he doesn't say anything.

Except that as Kallus moves to slip past him, Zeb holds out a hand with a ration bar.

He looks up, brow quirked skeptically.

"Since you like them so much that you're not going to stay for dinner," Zeb explains, and taps Kallus on the forehead directly between the eyes. "Next time, consider staying?"

Kallus can't help the smirk and plucks the ration bar free only to shove it back against Zeb's chest. "Next time, I'll consider it."

Zeb's answering grin is as warm as his hand as he catches Kallus' fingers and the bar before they can pull away. He doesn't say anything as he holds on for an unsteady thump thump thump of Kallus' pulse.

The touch withdraws and Kallus returns to himself only changed in some small way that he can't quite identify. 

+++

Zeb holds the hat up in his hands like it has personally offended him. "We're supposed to go in disguise."

"That is generally the first step of not being caught immediately, yes," Kallus agrees.

Zeb waves the hat around in the space between them. "This thing is so ugly that I think it will draw more attention to us."

Kallus takes the thing from Zeb, holding it between both hands to study it. "I don't know, I saw plenty of Lothal citizens wearing these when I was stationed there." He shakes it out and reaches up to pull it on to Zeb's head.

There's a grunt of surprise from the Lasat as the hat doesn't quite fit over his head correctly, and Kallus laughs as he tries to fix it. "Stop flinching," he scolds and lifts up one of the flaps to free the chin strap trapped beneath it.

"I feel like a bantha with blinders on."

"Nonsense." Kallus presses a knuckle to the underside of Zeb's chin, forcing him to lift his head so Kallus can buckle the strap beneath it. He takes a step back to see the image in full and can barely restrain the snort of laughter. "You look…"

"Ridiculous." Zeb attempts to claw off the hat, forgetting that its fastened beneath his chin, and ends up getting tangled in it.

"I was going to offer dignified to be nice, but you're making it real difficult right now."

"Oh," Zeb says from the depths of the hat before finally emerging -- fur ruffled and ears flicking in suppressed amusement. "You were trying to be nice. That would be a first."

From the hold, out of sight from where they're tucked away in one of the corridors, Kallus can hear Ezra and Vizago. They don't have much time before he'll join Rex in the cockpit and the others will leave.

The crew of the Ghost, leaving it behind in the hands of the only two people willing to volunteer for this mission. Two people who will be sitting by uselessly, unable to help if anything should go wrong.

Zeb takes the hat from Kallus' hands and shoves it into a pocket of his jumpsuit. "Alexs."

It's been almost a year of trying to get used to that name, and he still has a hard time. He looks up to meet Zeb's gaze. "Hm?"

"We'll be alright. We always are."

Kallus could play along, comment how he knows just how resilient the Spectres are. But instead he says, "You don't know that."

"We kicked your ass on more than one occasion."

"I'm not the biggest threat anymore." Kallus breathes in deep, shoulders heaving with the sigh. "Not that you'll listen to anything I have to say."

Zeb steps closer -- a subtle shuffle to close the distance between them. "Well, what do you have to say?"

Kallus focuses on the hum of the ship beneath his feet, of the warmth radiating off of Zeb, of the unspoken challenge in his eyes. He straightens his posture a degree and says, "I'm looking forward to being in command of the Ghost while Hera is planetside."

Zeb stares at him in stunned silence before breaking down into laughter. "Alright, alright," he concedes. "I won't tell her that you said that."

"No, do, that will inspire her to be even more efficient than she normally is."

"You love to make things difficult."

"I live for it," Kallus agrees, though he allows the small smile. He breaks the eye contact when he hears the sound of the puffer pigs being disturbed. "I should go. Let you finish getting ready."

Zeb catches onto his forearm before he can move too far away. "Just got one thing left," he says and leans down to kiss Kallus.

It's short, over too quickly for him to fully realize and respond. He stares at Zeb in stunned silence.

"For good luck," Zeb says as if that explains anything.

"Be careful," Kallus blurts out. The only thing he can think to say that truly encompasses the storm of emotions suddenly raging inside of him. "Come back safe."

Zeb's surprise melts into a smile that is equal parts fond and reckless. "I'll see you later, Agent."

They turn away at the same time -- Kallus towards the cockpit and Zeb towards the storage. He's a soldier with no time to play at being something new or different but for the first time in a long time Kallus thinks he might be willing to try at being Alexs again.

+++

Kallus understands the exact cost demanded by the Empire in order to ensure freedom. He just never expected to feel it so closely. Perhaps that's because he never expected to be free of the Empire himself every other time he calculated the toll.

It was always a price paid by others until Lothal.

He had thought the Ghost crew invincible -- after all, they had beat him more than once. They faced Vader and Thrawn and the might of the Empire and survived. Lothal reminds Kallus that there's a difference between survival and victory.

They survived Atollon, they were victorious over Lothal.

They lost Kanan and Ezra but they won a planet.

+++

Hera lands the Ghost on the outskirts of the city. Ketsu takes Sabine by the hand and pulls her out of the ship -- into the throng of people that spill through the streets. Rex and Azadi go to Hera, speaking to her in low voices that Kallus doesn't want to intrude on.

So he follows after Zeb. Down into the hold where there are boxes of spare medical supplies mixed in with munitions and food. They work in silence activating the repulsor functions and lead a small train of crates towards the city's edge.

People spot them and run to help and Kallus finds the mindless task of distributing the supplies easier than thinking about what happened. Focus on next steps instead of past ones.

When the first batch has been sent off, he turns to go prepare round two -- only to find Zeb standing a few paces away with eyes staring back in the direction of the old communication's tower. The one he coopted for his Fulcrum transmissions.

Ezra's tower.

Kallus steps up beside Zeb and puts a hand on his shoulder. "Hey."

The Lasat doesn't jump, but his ears twitch at the sound. "Hmm?"

It would be incredibly stupid to ask how are you. Kallus can read the answer plain as day. So instead he asks, "How is your foot?"

"My foot?"  Zeb seems to come out of his reverie enough to be confused, which is a bit of an improvement. He looks down at the foot in question, toes wriggling in the shortgrass and dirt. One has a red welt as a sign of a minor abrasion but otherwise isn't that bad. Just a promise of a bruise. "It's fine."

"Let me look at it."

"I don't need medical attention," Zeb says, the words almost coming out as a growl. "There's others that--"

"You flung yourself into the inner workings of a shield generator to fight an assassin. Just let me check you over, okay?" Kallus grabs Zeb by the elbow in a hold he's used on unruly troopers before and drags him back to the ramp.

By now, others have taken over the job of unloading the food and medical supplies so Kallus takes two of the unused munitions crates and sets them up to the side of the ramp.

"Sit," he orders, and Zeb does. "Leg."

With a sigh Zeb sticks out the leg and Kallus pulls it into his lap to investigate.

They've had no time to talk since Kallus returned to Lothal. He hasn't been able to check in on any of them and the only one he's managed to hold onto has been Zeb. Hera and Sabine will be coping in their own way but Kallus needs to at least feel like he's helping somehow.

"Alexs."

He doesn't respond, busying himself with a closer inspection of the injury. It is as minor as he thought, not even the potential for scarring. He still takes the time to apply antiseptic and wraps a bandage around the injury.

"Alexs."

Kallus pauses, hands settling on Zeb's knee. He doesn't lift his head. "I feel like such a fucking hypocrite," he eventually says as the silence continues to drag out between them, neither certain how to break it. "I worked for years to try and bring you down. And now here I am mourning the loss of two soldiers."

Zeb shuffles a bit on his crate but doesn't pull his leg away. "A lot has happened between then and now. They were more than soldiers, they were your friends."

Hardly, Kallus doesn't say. "They were your family."

"Yeah…" Zeb says, and Kallus winces at the sheer exhaustion in the single word. "Yeah, they were."

A dry laugh finally works its way out of Kallus. "Well at least I can save a little face knowing that not even Thrawn and Pryce could take you down so I don't feel like I did such a bad job failing to secure you all."

Zeb chuckles. "If we were going to go, it would always be at our own terms."

"And you've won."

"We've won." There's an emphasis on the word that brings Kallus into the fold, that reminds him he's no longer an Imperial.

Kallus exhales and lowers his head -- doubling over until he presses his forehead to Zeb's knee. Words jumble together in his thoughts but nothing feels right. Everything is too pithy or feel too selfish or hollow.

Zeb's hand lands on the back of his head, warm and comforting, and Kallus feels the tension train from his shoulders. The clawed fingers card through his hair as both of them let the moment pass in silence.

There are things to be said but they can wait.

For now, they can breathe.

[fae-iii]

Meowstic Postmortem

I don't think the timelapse does it justice how much friction I was feeling starting this piece. I spent a whole day with Aseprite open and a single line drawn, lol. But after that, it felt really fun and I've been able to focus more lately.

You see Oliver's right eye stay in one direction for most of the process only to flip towards the end to match with the normal Meowstic's face and after posting the completed piece I've decided I like it with the eye the way I had it, so I swapped it back so they're not identical to the standard Meowstic's eyes and edited the posts (except BlueSky, annoyingly no editing there). Also you can see I struggled with the shape of his neck ruff, so I just went with something more plain and I think it works just fine.

Pet theory about Espurr and Meowstic origins; it's known that they're almost definitely partially based on the Scottish Fold breed, from which it gets the folded ears the shell-shocked look (as an aside, it turns out the cartilage issues run throughout the whole body and result in lifelong chronic pain and breeding them is not cool 😿). I haven't seen, though:

That Meowstics unfurled ears might be based on the American Curl (which appear to be a generally healthy breed, at least on my surface-level research 😺). I guess it's not so weird that maybe the designers just independently came to the natural conclusion that "when this cat unleashes it's powers, the ears unfold as much as possible," but it's at least a neat parallel.

I thought Oliver up a couple years ago, cuz, like- maybe this should go on my alt- I never really had any friends up to that point and it sounds really pathetic but I was kinda going through some weird stuff where it would've been helpful to, like, have somebody who I felt like I could talk about it with, so I made him up for the purposes of talking though things. So idk if that makes him an imaginary friend; self-therapeutic mental device; the machinations of a madman; or, like, something else. He was really helpful to me then and I've since been brave enough to make some big decisions with his help and more to come. So I guess I can't feel too embarrassed.

Not sure about my game project, I'm just not really having fun with it at all right now and I think it was probably a bad idea for me to work on something that I'm unfamiliar with during my job's busy season. I think I'm just gonna shelve it for now and have fun drawing more pokemon during my off-time; maybe other creatures. Still wanna make something eventually, just now's not the time.

I might give more of my guys proper drawings. I think Riolu's definitely due one of good size and there's some improvements I could make with another iteration of Fae. Hm, there's maybe other guys I could draw that don't regularly take up as much room in my mind.

[madametrashbin]

Wishful Dreaming

In which I pretend Part 3 of Inazuma’s story doesn’t exist and everyone is alive before shit goes down. Yes, people who read this, it’s time for best friend headcanons/drabbles/whatever the hell this is with Teppei. Honestly, it’s just no thoughts head empty right now and I might have gone off tangent a lot.

(And by a lot, I mean the majority of this piece, probably... by the way, credits to @streimiv and @myuni-moon for making my brain be hyper focused on Self Aware Cult Genshin... I can’t get it out of my head as of right now.)

Enjoy, even if it’s never going to be beta-read by anyone and I will never go back to edit this even if I find mistakes in this later on... and I also don’t know where my brain went for this, but what’s done is done. 

I’m not even sure if I did his personality correctly, ahaha...  (；^ω^)

(I’m going to project my denial in this, so please know it might be wince inducing and incredibly self-indulgent.)

The sun is bright at this time of day, the gentle breeze flowing through the tranquil lands of Inazuma, leaving those who are experiencing the nice morning in a blissful escape from its current reality. 

...much like a young foreigner who had left their current abode, leaving behind a note for their caretakers to see as they wander around the land of Eternity for some true fresh air and peace of mind away from the group that had more or less made their life a little too suffocating as of late.

It is also incredibly lonely in there, as they come to understand that no one (for the most part) look at them like they were a regular human... like they were them.

So they now wander, taking in the rarity of solitude that does not come as easily as one might think. Inazuma is beautiful, even if they know that the peace they see around these parts are but a veil that shields the horrible reality going on around them.

(They know what was happening outside the city, outside the teapot they were living in since they were brought here. They’ve experienced it happening before, many times in fact. They know what will happen, and they’re determined to change it. They just need to find a certain someone, and then they’re set.)

Meeting Teppei was something you didn’t really expect all that much, considering you knew he should be still a part of the logistic division of the Resistance Army and would be busy in their current base that was all the way to Yashiori Island.

Yet by sheer luck, or by fate, you meet the good fellow on Narukami Island and had managed to make a pretty good friendship with him over the course of coincidental meetings.

You’ve come to learn a few things about the young man, and it was that he was a pretty trusting guy, didn’t even think twice of being friends with you... which was a little worrisome, considering what happened in the actual storyline.

That’s okay though, you’ll make nothing happens to him... he is one of your only true friends in this world, after all.

“Teppei.”

They call to him as the Resistance Samurai turned his head away from the sight of the Tenshukaku to them.

“Is there anything you wish for? I mean, if you could have one wish granted, anything you want, what would it be?”

The young man looked rather confused at them, before they briefly clarified that they were just curious. As much as they enjoy the peacefulness of silence, they wanted to know what he really wanted... wondering if he really wanted a Vision, for the acknowledgement of the Gods.

“What would I wish for...”

The young man was quiet for a while, no doubt mulling it over before smiling when he comes to an answer, his head lifting to look at the glimmering stars.

“I would wish for the war to end... for the Sakoku Decree and Vision Hunt Decree to be abolished so people won’t have to suffer anymore.”

“Really? Not a Vision, or something like that?”

“Well, having a Vision would be nice, but thinking about it... I think it’s better if everyone is happy. A lot of people are suffering, and even if I did get a Vision, it’s still pretty difficult to win the war against the Shogunate.”

They could only hum quietly in understanding after that, not really certain what else to ask him before he gives them the same question. 

What do they wish for?

To go home. They would have said, but they chose not to because they knew there was probably little chance for them to be allowed to go home... Their “acolytes” are rather over-protective and notably possessive towards them, probably rampaging around Inazuma right now in search of them.

Well, they at least know what they’re going to do once they inevitably find them.

“Isn’t it time you should head back to your camp, Teppei?”

“Huh? Oh, right! It’s getting late! Then, if I have time, I’ll see you again!”

And he’s off in a rush, disappearing when he turned around the rocky walls and out of their sight. At the same time as he left, the bushes behind them rustle, and a frantic Zhongli appears with Venti following behind... both relaxed significantly once they saw them in perfect condition.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you, Your Grace. It’s dangerous for you to go outside on your own like that.”

“Please don’t worry us like that again.”

They immediately take to their sides, quickly ushering them to head back to the Teapot before they stopped them in their tracks. 

“Your Grace?”

“I need to do something. Will the both of you accompany me for this?”

...and by the following morning, an official announcement is made to all of Inazuma with the abolishment of both the Sakoku Decree and Vision Hunt Decree. 

Teppei is rushing over to them with a beaming smile on his face when they meet again that noon, the young man happily shares the good news with them while they simply smiled and nodded along with what he said even if they knew the reason behind it.

They don’t tell him anything, nor mention that it was thanks to him that it ended... well, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

Extra, because why not:

It becomes a frequent part of your days now that the War in Inazuma was over. Hanging out with Teppei as often as you could, granted you’d have a few people trailing in the shadows at all times, watching over you so you don’t pull the same stunt again.

You have to spend a bit of time giving warning glares behind you whenever Teppei mentions the cold chills that makes his bones shiver despite the relatively warm weather. 

When the two of you get roped up into a bit of trouble (whether by lingering Fatui grunts, stray Ronins or local Treasure Hoarders seeking to rob you), Teppei would always jump in between you and them, saying he’ll protect you as he holds his spear (that he brings with him out of habit).

...you thinks it’s endearing with how he’s trying to be brave, as you can see his hands shake just a tad bit due to the numbers.

But as much as you want to let him have his moment, you prefer that your friend doesn’t get himself hurt and therefore skillfully lead him away from the danger while the rest (your cult) dealt with them.

When you feel like the divine treatment is starting to get too overwhelming, and you’re feeling a little too lonely, you always make your way to Teppei who is there to provide comfort even if you never really talked about what’s troubling you.

Your friendship with Teppei is strong, even if you rarely talk about yourself to him and how he’s told you practically everything about himself.

There’s just something about that trust that bring you a lot of comfort... it gave a different feeling compared to Zhongli or Fischl’s kind of trust... it was warmer, and felt more like home.

You’re also very adamant in keeping him away from the whole cult business, not wanting him to think of you like how the others did... you don’t want to lose that friendship that practically kept you sane in this world.

The amount of times you have to keep reminding your cult to leave him be is absurd, and as much as they protest about him, the fact you’re upset at them for that is enough to get them to stop.

...for a while, at least. They go at it again for a while when Teppei does something they don’t like until you actually snapped at them. They stopped bothering him after that.

If Teppei does eventually find out about the cult, which will most likely happen because of Kokomi, you would be genuinely terrified in the beginning of it until he gives you proper reassurance that it doesn’t change anything.

Now he’s allowed to see you in the Teapot, often visiting with curious snacks he finds and occasionally sleeping over when you are feeling particularly lonely.

Overall, a very pleasant friendship to have. Being one of the few you can really be open with and not be concerned about how you’re viewed as.

Wholesome boy will always have your back whenever you need him... even if he is a little intimidated by the Raiden Shogun and the other intimidating acolytes that are a part of your cult.

[neocrush]

— the girl groups enhypen’s gfs are in !

genre: fluff (angst on jungwon’s part) + established relationship (eventually lol)

pairings: idol!enhypen x fem!idol!reader

note: idk how to title this pls i thought of it while showering

tagging: @jeminiepabo @strwberrydinosaur

you just finished performing and your members were in need of water bottles

you just finished performing and your members were in need of water bottles

you just finished performing and your members were in need of water bottles

but fucking mnet didn’t provide any inside of your dressing room??

but fucking mnet didn’t provide any inside of your dressing room??

but fucking mnet didn’t provide any inside of your dressing room??

so yves told you to ask for some from the artist in the dressing room next to yours

you knocked on the door without looking at the sign that showed who was in there

you asked for some water bottles and heeseung went “i’ll go get it!” and ran off to go get get them

jungwon just chuckled and went “hyung’s a really huge fan of your group, he kept on singing star on the way here”

you nodded at the younger one, impressed at the fact that you were popular among idols

the tall boy came back with a whole box full of water bottles

“there’s 12 of you here right now so i figured why not get a whole box” he chuckled nervously

you giggled and smiled at the nervous boy

“thank you heeseung-ssi, i’ll take this to my members” you took the box in your hands but was taken aback on how heavy it was

“don’t worry i’ll carry it for you”

long after that you started hanging out and boom you became his gf

you couldn’t resist the charms of lee heeseung

once it was revealed that you were a couple, orbits and engenes went INSANE (in a good way ofc)

“wait so y/n DOESNT hate men????”

★ jay - aespa

OMG OMG LEMME TELL YOU ABOUT THIS BBY

you both met at school after you both debuted

everyone was gossiping around about how you were in the same class with the enhas

so like... monster rookies class

usually idols aren’t seated together but the teacher seated you and jay next to each other

causing a bunch of “oooohhhs” from your classmates

there were times were you and the enhas would leave school early due to practice or schedules

and on the way to the school gate, jay would always spark up a conversation with you

you assumed he was just very friendly

long story short he had a massive crush on you

so a few months into your friendship (which the both of you were very open about with your fans), he confesses

you were like “WAIT SO IT WASNT ONE SIDED THE WHOLE TIME”

y’all were just really blind lol pls read between the lines

anyways on to ur lovely bf !!

he’s so bold and brave around you but so shy around your members and seniors

we all know how he really respects nct (along with other sm artists) bc he covered the 7th sense with sunghoon on iland

so one day you were like “oh btw i showed taeyong sunbae you and hoon’s t7s cover”

he was like 😟 to 😧 to 😯

got all shy and was like “oh what did he say..”

you don’t know why he was acting as if he didn’t body that whole performance ????

anyway you told him that taeyong said that he and hoon did really well and that he liked how jay did his part

hid his face on the crook of your neck

“baby we should come say hi to them next time you go to sm”

“NO i will make a fool out of myself”

speaks english and japanese with giselle a lot when he isn’t occupied with you

sometimes you’d even have to ask nct’s shotaro to translate

your seniors (especially exo’s kai) adore him so so much pls protect the boy at all costs

★ jake - everglow

he was an active viewer of produce 48 and (like me) was really attached to the yuehua trainees

especially you

so when you got eliminated just before the last episode, he was devastated to say the least

he awaited your debut and when the time came he supported everglow !!!!

LOVED BON BON CHOCOLAT SO MUCH

does the killing part choreo in his room when no one’s watching lol

dies everytime you do the little “everglow” in songs

right so when he debuted in enha, he looked forward to meeting you as an idol and not a fan

when you shared a dressing room at kcontact, he couldn’t help but introduce himself to you

he mentioned he was a big fan and your heart warmed

cute boy is a fan of you? omg heart go brr brr

your members tease you and you just shake it off

that day when you got back to the dorms, you watched a bunch of enhypen videos bc you were interested in jake

you weren’t aware of how popular you were among people - let alone idols so you were surprised

you fell in love with his personality and started saying hi to him whenever you meet backstage at music shows

not long after, you develop feelings for him

you thought it was just a puppy crush but as you saw him even more, it got serious

you never actually confessed but aisha accidentally spilled the beans when he was passing by

“cmon y/n just tell him you like him because he clearly feels the same !!”

“you like me?”

“AISHA”

“that’s my queue to leave”

so she leaves you two to pour your hearts out to each other

you two become a couple and forevergenes (such a cute name omg) LOVE you two

you’re both the puppies of your group so that makes your relationship 103892x cuter

you met his parents and they adore you and even asked for your autograph

“jake used to talk about how great you are after every produce 48 episode”

“okayyyy i think that’s enough embarassing me mom”

his parents love you like their own daughter but does layla love you?

you were so nervous to meet her and was actually scared she might not like you - knowing how important layla is to jake

at first layla ignored you and jake was like “she’ll come around”

you were convinced she just doesn’t like you, until this one time you were cuddling with jake on the couch and layla comes in

you expected her to snuggle up with jake but she came to you :D

now layla is super fond of you and mrs sim would even send you pictures and videos of layla getting excited whenever you were on tv 🥺

★ sunghoon - itzy

you and the girls were at isac

the six of you were just waving at your fans and making heart signs with your hearts

on your left you saw yeji making hearts with ryujin so you wanted to do that with another member too

you felt a presence next to you and assumed it was someone from your group

spoiler alert: it wasn’t

sunghoon and sunoo were waving at engenes who just happened to be seated next to midzys

so you turned to who you thought was an itzy member, making half a heart with your hand

until you realized it wasn’t 💀

you bowed and apologized when you both looked at each other, you were scared you crossed a boundary

you bowed and apologized to the engenes who were there too

sunghoon and sunoo reassured you it was all good

after that, sunghoon couldn’t help but keep his eyes on you the entire event

when the day was coming to an end, he pulled some strings and ended up having some alone time with you ...in stray kids’ dressing room

don’t ask

ofc skz already left so it was just you two there

fast forward, you both hit it off and he became your bf <3

midzys and engenes love you both sm and love bragging about you two to other fandoms

you two were even named the king and queen of 4th gen kpop

oh also

you already know where this is going

“SUNGHOON HOW COULD YOU NOT KNOW NOT SHY’S PROPER TITLE IT’S YOUR GIRLFRIEND’S SONG” - jay

brags about how he can do the shoulder dance in wannabe

ofc it’s bc you personally taught him

sends you pics of jyp as reaction pics

so you send pics of bang pdnim to him

every once in a while he reminds you of that video of jay why pee trying to hit a high note

“lmao that’s your boss”

PLS you always get super embarrassed so ofc you bring up that vid of hitman bang

“rAp dAncE-“

★ sunoo - stayc

you were his seatmate at school predebut

you came from the same town, same school, same neighborhood, etc

the two of you were extremely close and both shared the same dream

when highup entertainment accepted you, the both of you were over the moon

he was so happy for you

but sad too bc that meant you had to move to seoul :(

you promised him to do your best and that you hoped to see him again but as an idol

and hopefully when he’s an idol too

well what you hoped for came true !!

although you couldn’t see him much as a trainee - which made you quite sad - you got to follow his journey on i-land

you even asked your fellow trainees to vote for him

anyways now that you both debuted, you became close again and became really open with your fans on how close you were

you recommended his songs to swiths and he did the same to engenes

he even memorized the choreo to so bad and asap and lemme tell you this

he BEGGED you to teach him those choreos

“sunoo you can watch the practice on youtube”

“but i want to learn it from you”

he never really realized his feelings until he saw you getting shipped with his other members

you were both on weekly idol and the hosts really seemed to like how you and jake looked next to each other and they just teased you both the whole episode

that made sunoo feel uneasy and he thought it was only bc he was an overprotective best friend

turns out he had feelings for you (wow shocker)

so one day he asks you to come to hybe

after slightly getting lost, you meet up with him in a practice room

he confesses bc he felt like not telling you about his feelings would put a wall between you two

you appreciate his honesty and tell him you’ve felt the same way every since you were classmates

he scolds himself for not seeing it all those years but you just laugh it off bc you were pretty good at hiding your crush

you both agree to secretly date, until you both announce it on your five month anniversary

fans were really shocked at first... but they support you !!!!

engenes will not hesitate to come at anyone who talks bad about you and swiths feels the same way about jungwon

he gushes about you every single time you’re brought up

and you can’t help but love your adorable boyfriend

★ jungwon - iz*one

okay so

he was just an average high schooler when you were introduced on produce 48

his deskmate was watching your audition video and it was the part where you were doing this freestyle

he was SO amazed and he secretly followed your journey on produce 48

always made sure to vote on time and watch the episodes live

once the debut evaluation came around, he asked everyone he knew to vote for you and even bought tickets to see the show live

almost cried when he saw that you were center

ACTUALLY CRIED when you got into the top 13 😭

fast forward to him debuting in enha

he wasn’t able to catch up on you since he was busy with trainee life, then i-land, then debut preparations

but somehow in the middle of promotions he ran into you and BOOM love at first sight

fast forward to you finally dating, he couldn’t believe he was dating the y/n of iz*one

wizones make those “ladies and gentlemen, y/n’s man” edits and engenes make those “ladies and gentlemen, jungwon’s woman” edits

both fandoms love you two so dearly that the only hate you two got were from the delusional ones (who clearly aren’t actual fans)

when your last concert came around, he couldn’t bare seeing you cry when you said “this has been iz*one’s y/n, thank you everyone!”

he got flashbacks from when you cried during the final episode of produce 48 and he’s just.. sobbing bc he couldn’t be there to hold you

so the next day he rushed to your dorms with snacks and emotional support bc you were emotionally exhausted from accepting the fact that your journey with iz*one is finally ending

you felt extremely lucky to be in his arms and he felt extremely lucky too that he’s able to make you feel a little better

★ riki - weeekly

you were both on weekly weeekly idol together

and both you and riki being main dancers, you were asked to do random dance together

a few popular songs played and the both of you did the choreos

until after school started playing and the boy did the chorus’ choreo and you were like “woah???”

bc he was so INTO ITTTT

the song was basically made for him to cover it

and the mcs saw your reaction so they asked him to do it once again but this time with the whole group

after filming, he came up to you and was like “i’m a huge fan of yours” and you’re just like ):&/£]>\**_£]

“woah really???? i rooted for you on i-land”

and his face just lights up bc his huge crush on you developed even more

you became besties since then but he didn’t ask you out until your birthday

he took you out to a puppy café, knowing you were obsessed with dogs

you’d ask him to show you pictures and videos of bisco

“i better meet bisco once we go to japan together”

melted at the thought of traveling to his hometown with you

anyways

once you left the café, he kissed you in front of your dorms

and somehow he became your boyfriend <3

riki as a bf isn’t really a very public person

he’s the “this is our relationship, not the public’s” type of person

he doesn’t wanna risk companies wanting to exploit your relationship

although he doesn’t talk about you two much, he loves to brag about you when given the chance

whenever variety show hosts would fawn over you he’d just look them in the eyes dead and go “she’s mine”

[flareish]

Anxiety

kuroo x reader

summary: you hide your anxiety from basically everyone including your boyfriend, until he finds out for himself

genre: hurt/comfort

warnings: Emetophobia Warning! description of nausea/vomit, anxiety, bit of angst but ends in fluff

word count: 2.0k

a/n: I tried to make this as close to my anxiety since I hadn’t known anyone with my kind of anxiety(symptom wise) until I was seventeen, which was a good ways into when I realized I had anxiety. So here is some nausea anxiety representation!

masterlist

You tap your fingers in a mindless rhythm. Alternating the fingers and repeating them back and forth, trying to make it a game, a challenge. You did this over and over again to distract yourself from that all too familiar sinking feeling. That feeling like your stomach has managed to twist and knot itself a million times. Each bump of the bus made acid crawl up your throat. You crunched a mint in your mouth hoping the peppermint would soothe some of the nausea. It didn’t, but the thought was there. You just will yourself not to throw up on the bus, anything but that. The thought in itself makes you even more nervous, and in turn even sicker.

You don’t even know why you are anxious. Today is Kuroo’s big game, but it isn’t yours. You’ve been to a hundred of his games before but never before did you feel like this. Normally you get cute little butterflies, not an angry swarm of bees. The worst part is, there is Kuroo sat next to you happy as can be, completely oblivious. He keeps trying to drag you into conversations but you fear if you open your mouth for too long, all that will come up is vomit. So you keep your mouth firmly closed only smiling tightly or shaking your head at his prompts.

It's not exactly his fault though. He doesn’t actually know you have anxiety. It’s not something you really like to talk about. You are all for promoting the acceptance of mental health but you just find every time you tell someone the dynamic changes. Either they flat out don’t believe you since you “don’t seem like the type with anxiety”. Well duh, I don’t have social anxiety, I have situational anxiety. Like here in this situation. That or they suddenly treat me like I am incapable of handling myself. That whenever a slightly stressful event comes up, I am going to melt into a puddle of pure anxiety. Sorry but I’ve made it this far, I may have to throw up a few times on the way but I am still making it. 

So you just haven’t told Kuroo. You're just nervous that it will change the dynamic. You also don’t want to steal his spotlight. Today is supposed to be all about him. It's his big game. To suddenly speak up and tell him that his game is giving you anxiety would be selfish. So like you always have, you put a brave face on and face it head-on.

“Hey, are you okay?” Kuroo asks you, now facing you, “You look a little pale.”

“Hmm?,” You also turn to look at him, “Oh I am just a bit tired that’s all. I will be fine in an hour or so.” You hope at least. He nods relieved it's not something worse. 

You finally pull into the stadium and everyone is pushing their way off the bus. Luckily Kuroo is right by you to make sure you don't get accidentally pushed down the bus stairs and trampled. The team makes it’s to the bulletin board where they are given their matchups. Nekoma is paired with a pretty hard team. Suddenly, out of nowhere, you dry heave. You knew at the point you were going to throw up and within the next few minutes. 

“Hey I think I left something in the bus I’ll be right back.” You say to Kuroo before dashing off. He goes to reply but you are already gone. 

You make it around the back of the building before you throw up. At this point you’re kinda out of it, your mind is occupied on emptying your already empty stomach. Then you feel someone pull your hair back and gently rub your back. You don’t even have to look up to know it’s Kuroo. When you finish he hands you his water bottle.  You waterfall it and rinse your mouth out of that acidic taste. 

“What’s going on are you okay?” Kuroo asks full of concern. You hesitate for a moment, thinking of telling the truth. Then you remember this is supposed to be his day. 

“Sorry I must have caught a stomach bug.” He doesn’t completely buy it so you quickly add to it.

“I didn't feel great on the bus but I just thought it was because I was tired.” You feel bad lying, “I also don’t want to distract you before your game.” At that Kuroo quickly pulls you into a hug, “Your not a distraction, I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Your cheek is pressed against his chest and your hands grip the front of his shirt. 

“We should probably head back.” You mumble.

“Yeah.” He leans down to kiss you but you duck away. He looks incredibly offended and hurt at this.

“Dude I just threw up I don’t know if you want to do that.” 

“…Point.”

The two of you head back inside to the team, you feeling much better after throwing up. Before you know it, the competition has begun and Nekoma has won. You run down and celebrate with the team and it’s a happy day.

On the bus ride home Kuroo has a strange energy about him. Not like he’s mad more just like he’s just realized something. You nudge him and smile hoping to break him out of his little funk. He immediately smiles back and goes back to celebrating with the team. His reaction was almost like putting a mask on. You watch him for a moment before slipping into a conversation of your own.

When you make it back to school you go your separate ways. Him going to shower, and you to get home before it gets too late. A big hug before pushing away. You still refusing to kiss him after throwing up earlier in the day. 

You are laying on your bed, exhausted. Anxiety really takes a toll on your energy. Your thoughts are broken when your phone chimes with a text.  Leaning over to grab your phone off your bedside table you see it is from Kuroo. 

“Can you come over? I want to talk.”

No cute pet names. No slowly easing into it. Actually using proper grammar. Nothing in that message was a good sign. Just “I want to talk” was enough to make the acid begin to crawl again. You knew it had to be about today. Especially after you saw him zoning out on the bus. It had to be your anxiety episode. You knew he wouldn’t be happy you lied but going to this extent. Like he just found out you have anxiety and this is what he hits you with? The world’s most nerve-wracking text message. The only worse place than this would be “we need to talk”. That’s when you have really screwed up. So maybe you’ve only minorly screwed up since he said want not need. Does that mean you have the choice to say no? That was kind of tempting but you knew you would be tossing and turning all night thinking about what might be wrong. 

“Okay.” You reply to the text. Short and sweet. Putting on some shoes and grabbing a hoodie, you quietly slip out of your house. Kuroo’s house wasn’t too far but it was far enough. Enough to continue to stir in your intrusive and unstoppable thoughts. You eventually make it to his house and head in going straight for his room. Before you reach the door you hesitate and gather yourself. Preparing for whatever was about to come. 

When you go in you find Kuroo sat on the floor of his bedroom, back pressed against the bed. He jerkily looks up and you and gives you a tight smile. None of this is giving good signs. Something is very heavy on his mind. You sit down across from him, your back against the wall your feet almost touching. 

“So what was it you wanting to talk about.” You break the silence. He doesn’t respond for a moment. Just as you are about to try again he speaks up.

“Do you still love me?” Your face drops into confusion.

“Why wouldn’t I love you anymore?” You ask, suddenly realizing this wasn’t the conversation you were prepping yourself for. 

“You’ve been distant lately. You don’t tell me things like when you don’t feel good. I thought about it when I got home and I was wondering if you weren’t actually sick but just making the excuse because you got caught.” He’s very serious at the moment and his words hold a cold edge. 

“What do you mean get caught?” You match his tone. You weren’t planning on fighting but something about how he said it just set something off in you.

“You didn’t want to be there. Ever since this morning you were quiet and reserved. Even after the game, you wouldn’t even kiss me-”

“Yeah, cause I threw up! And how could I be faking it when I literally threw up.” You snap.

“You’ve been like this before though! Like last year’s big tournament you would barely talk to me.”

“That’s not true!” Although it kind of was just not the reason he thought.

“Oh yeah? What about at training camp you wouldn’t talk to me then either, you didn’t even eat with us you just sat on your own.” He threw back.

“Yeah, cause I have anxiety!” The words left your mouth before you knew it. Kuroo looked taken back.

“What?” His brow furrows, “Since when?” He’s not sure what to believe. You’re not surprised since you have worked very hard to hide it from everyone, accidentally sabotaging your own relationship without even knowing it. 

“Since forever. I just never told anyone.” You quietly say, ducking your head down.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You didn’t even need to look up to see the hurt on his face, it was apparent in his voice. You start playing with your finger, tapping them in rhythms.

“I wanted to,” You mumble, “But whenever I do stuff changes and I didn’t want anything to change.” He shifts forward and you think he’s going to leave. Instead, he grabs your hands, stopping the pattern you had going. You look up.

“Did you think I would judge you?” He was staring straight into you, willing the truth to come out.

“Whenever I tell people they either don’t believe me and brush it off or treat me like I’m incapable of handling any amount of stress. I’ve never seen anyone react any differently so I was scared you would fall into one of those reactions and I didn’t know how I could handle that. I didn’t want my anxiety to be the thing to tear us apart. But I guess it still was.” By the end of your speech, your gaze has returned back to the floor, unable to hold eye contact for that long with him staring at you so strongly. You hear him sigh then you are pulled forward and into his arms. 

“I want to be your pillar of support. I want to be that third reaction that is one of acceptance, one that doesn’t drive you crazy.” He strokes your hair soothingly, his words making you tear up, “When you are ready I want you to tell me everything. From when you first noticed it, to where it is now, to how you deal with it, everything.” By now you are fully crying, absolutely collapsed into his chest. “I love you so much.” It gets muffled in his shirt but he hears it.

“I know, and I love you.”

It would take some time for Kuroo to get used to this change but slowly but surely he will be different from the rest and he will support you no matter what. Although he also respects your strength and knows you can handle your anxiety on your own, he is always there when you need it. He becomes the third unexpected and unheard-of reaction; acceptance.

[pointnumbersixteen]

How do you see The Captain's coming out, and growth in confidence and self acceptance thereafter taking place?

I like this question! …and I’m probably going to elaborate on it a bit more than many people will want to read (I noticed back when I was regularly writing essay length posts that they did not get a lot of love) and it’s probably going to get even more ramble-y than usual (brain has not been braining as cooperatively as it should recently and the decision to drink half a bottle of wine right before answering this- sorry- probably does not help), but here we are.  

 About coming out scenarios, none of mine are particularly elaborate. While I do think he needs to come out for his story line to progress, I can’t imagine him making a big thing out of it (long or elaborate announcements, heart-to-hearts, emotional displays of bearing his authentic self or any of the like), either with the group, or person-by-person, for several reasons:

First off, that sort of a coming-out to-do is a more modern notion, and I doubt he was a particularly modern person even when he was alive, seventy-five years ago. His notions of privacy and propriety are probably much more conservative than ours, and I feel like that makes it unlikely that he’d go into any sort of detail, at least at early in this process, about his feelings/emotions or the specificities of his attractions. We’re talking about a man who doesn’t even use his own name. It’s difficult to picture him going into depth about his desires and love life.

Secondly, he’s a bit of a social coward. (He’s not a physical coward, of course, he jumped on that bomb in the garden without hesitation, and acknowledged after the fact that he gotten caught up in the moment, and therefore hadn’t really thought about how a bomb couldn’t hurt him.) And I get it, I’m a bit of a social coward, too, so no judgement. He probably faced a lot of ridicule in his life. Being a social coward is totally fair. But he doesn’t put himself into situations that might involve awkward interpersonal interactions if he can help it, and legs it whenever interactions he’s already in become to awkward for him. I feel like he’s probably quite desperate (although he’d never admit to it) to save face and protect what bits of his ego remain unscathed.

Think about it: he could have spoken to Fanny on his own about her nightly screaming disturbing him in s1e1, they have a clear association established at the outset of the show, they leave Heather’s room together at the end of the very first scene, but he doesn’t do so until he has the weight of the whole group to back him up about the screaming at their meeting. He had to buck up his courage and give himself his little ‘over the top we go’ pep talk before going to speak to Alison in Gorilla War. Also, if there was actually something wrong with his soldiers’ horseplay after hours in Reddy Weddy- if it was breaking regulations or even his own orders for quiet hours- and he heard it, he could have gone down directly when he heard it, confronted whoever was involved and order them to stop or put them on report. But no, instead he addressed the entire group of soldiers in a sixteen point morning brief. He even dispatched Pat to confront Alison about the party in s2e2, instead doing it himself… and spit out his apology/reconciliation with Pat at the end as fast as possible. And as for legging it when things get awkward, see his retreats following the group confronting him in Getting Out and after Alison telling him he wasn’t needed in the Grey Lady- and on a more figurative than literal level, but most relevantly, his quick turn from ‘I’ll miss you’ to ‘we’ll miss you’ with Havers in Reddy Weddy.

This is not a man who wants to be in awkward or embarrassing situations. And I think that coming out, at least at first, will probably be a bit embarrassing for him- it was scandalous in his time, and I think it will take him longer to get over that feeling and come to terms with himself than it will to finally acknowledge that he’s gay. So I doubt he’d make more of it than he utterly feels he has to, at least at first. And of course, he’d have to be a bit afraid that people would judge him or stop associating with him over it, as sadly, in his own time many people would have done, and most of the ghosts are from even earlier times than he was. So that might add more hesitation…

And thirdly, he doesn’t like and/or respect many of his house mates. The other twentieth century ghosts are the only ones he spends much time with. I doubt he’d go out of his way to communicate much of anything to the rest if it wasn’t “mission related” much less discuss his sexuality with them. He mostly disregards Humphrey. See his, “Oh, it’s you.” Mary obviously doesn’t like him and he only associates with her when it might be useful for his ‘missions.’ He clearly doesn’t think much of Thomas and doesn’t really even bother including him in his plans. These aren’t people he’s going to have heart-to-hearts with.

With those constraints in place, here’s a non-exhaustive list of possibilities by which I might see his coming out finally happening. They’re really just scenarios I made for myself on how I might see him coming out and I like to keep my options open (the first three are strategies he might go for, the last is an alternate scenario, presented in decreasing levels of directness on his part):

1) The ‘pull the bandage off quickly and hope it doesn’t sting too much’ strategy.

The Captain waits for the end of one of their various group activities or meetings, where all announcements seem to be made, gets up, clears his throat, stammers a bit, announces it tersely, using the most proper popular word for homosexuality that existed in his time (think: “Heh-hem. Er. Um. Well. It has recently come to my attention that I am- er- well- as it happens- gay. I, uh, thought it should be noted. That is all.”), and then beats a hasty retreat, so he doesn’t have to try to cope with the potentially negative aftermath. Of course, there isn’t a negative aftermath, because many of the ghosts already have guessed and the rest don’t really care. Someone, probably Pat, because he does the bulk of the emotional labor in the group, and more importantly, he’s Cap’s closest friend, would have to go after him. He would of course be initially defensive, and Pat would have to sooth his feathers a bit- or maybe just spit it out over his defensiveness- that he guessed a long time ago and so had plenty of other people, and they were just waiting for him to be ready, and really, it’s fine, and no one’s going to disown him for it.  

2) The ‘well maybe I should tell my friends with the hope they support me’ strategy.

He gets together with a small group, the people whose company he actually values, definitely Fanny and Pat, maybe Julian, probably Alison either at the same time or after he finishes with his ghosts pals, and says it in much the same way as the previous scenario, but waiting for their reactions rather than retreating straight away. Pat and Alison, I expect, would answer with something like ‘yeah, we figured that one out a long time ago, actually, and it’s completely fine’ and Julian’s reaction would probably be something like, ‘well, obviously.’ Fanny’s had a lot of character growth since season one, when I expect her reaction would have been very shrill and judgmental, probably still would be a touch less warm and/or nonchalant, but I picture it as something like a sigh, followed by a pat on the arm and something like, ‘well, I still like you better than everyone else here, anyway.’ Word would eventually trickle to everyone else by way of social osmosis. Or not. No one seems to care if Humphrey or the plague ghosts are well informed.  

3) The ‘I’m not brave enough to actually go through the process of actually telling anyone anything about me so let’s just drop hints and hope everyone figures it out without making a big deal about it’ strategy.  

The indirect approach (I’m rather fond of this one, but mostly because it was my own primary coming out approach)… he first sends out feelers to certain people on the topic of homosexuality, probably Alison, since she’s modern, hosted a lesbian wedding, and very much implied that she’d be ready to keep scandalous secrets for him in Reddy Weddy, and  possibly maybe also Julian, as he’s the most sexually experienced/knowledgeable, and after Alison spent a while inundating him with ‘it’s okay to be gay’ messages (along with a sudden and entirely unexplained influx of LGBT media) as she’s socially clever enough to see that’s what he’s looking for and after Julian spent a while telling him probably far more than he ever actually wanted to know about the potentialities of gay sex, that might boost the Captain’s confidence enough to let him start dropping hints to people, instead of telling them outright (consciously commenting on the attractiveness of men they see rather than occasionally accidentally blurting it out- see ‘the handsome one’- occasionally putting forth an opinion or stance on the LGBT world ‘it would have been nice if gay marriage was acceptable when I was alive,’ maybe occasionally mentioning how certain men would make cute couple), expecting them to meet him in the middle and figure out the point on their own… of course, many of them have already realized, so this isn’t a problem. It’s entirely possible, though, that Mary (world view not terribly grounded in reality) and Kitty (lack of life experience and/or instruction about life, see the how are babies made subplot) never pick up the hints on their own and someone else eventually has to tell them.

4) The ‘someone puts him out of his misery’ scenario.

Cap acknowledges to himself that he’s gay first and then, wishing to avoid embarrassment or lack of acceptance, obviously, awkwardly, painfully tries to disguise it and in doing so draws attention to it, until a third party decides to put him out of his misery and tell him that many of them figured it out ages ago and that everyone is fine with it. Maybe Pat. Maybe Alison. I kind of like the idea of it being Fanny (with her lovely character growth and her couple of suspicious glances his way in the Perfect Day), actually, by way of something like ‘You know, I was entirely prepared to continue on living with my husband, George, keeping his secrets, about the, uh, sort of person he was, and you’re at least one better than him, given that you at least never murdered me- or, for that matter, never married some poor woman you had no interest in to shield yourself from scrutiny… and so, what I’m saying is, I wouldn’t turn my back on you for being the, uh, sort of person you are, either, and maybe things have progressed enough that you don’t actually have to keep secrets at all.’ Cap would take all of this in with a mixture of mortification and relief. I’m rather fond of this scenario, too.  

 As for the second bit of the question, once his sexuality is out there, though, and no one judges him or hates him for it- and some are quite supportive- I do see him becoming more self-accepting. If no one’s judging him, does he need to judge himself so harshly? And also more confident. Because some of those things that he’s always felt different about and in the past has probably been ridiculed about in the past (even if he’s in denial about being gay, he and quite a few other people had to at the very least note that he’s not particularly interested in women), are, apparently just fine now. So he’s a bit more just fine now himself. And that weight of always trying to be someone else, someone who’s just right, can lift and he can relax a bit more. And that would probably help him a lot, too. I see it as a slow sort of thawing process. No matter what way he comes out, I still see Alison as very helpfully providing a variety of LGBT media to help this process along. And maybe he’d eventually get to the point where he processed enough and warmed up enough to be able to talk more in depth, at least with his friends, about what it was like being him in repressed pre-war Britain, and what sort of men he’s attracted to (I enjoy the idea of him and Fanny- gradually overcoming her own repression- scoping out hot men together). Maybe he’ll even luck out one of his male housemates will decide (or has already decided) that bisexuality is a valid option and he’ll get a date (insert whichever ghost y’all ship him with here). I bet Alison would totally help him set up a nice date, too, with her convenient still-functional-in-the-mortal-realm hands. And it would be nice to maybe see him get a taste of actual happiness.    

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Storms

ShinoMitsu Week 2021 Day Two: (Storms, Stars, Flowers)

A/N: Okay, so there are no manga spoilers here, but it's the next part of day one. This is also where the modern AU starts. You could read this one and not get manga spoilers but it might be a bit confusing idk. Like I said before, days four through seven are just gonna be out of order events that are purely AU without mention of events in KNY proper so, yeah. Probably your safest bet. Sorry if I’m not making any sense. Hope y’all like it though. Word Count: 4,080

“God damn it,” Shinobu sighed under her breath as she checked fruitlessly through her school bag for an umbrella she already knew wasn’t there. “Slightly overcast my ass.”

Currently, it was pouring buckets while the sky was rumbling and intermittently flashing with distant lightning. Shinobu had stayed late studying in the library, unaware of the storm that had been forming just outside. What had first started as a trickle, had become a full blown downpour and now she was stuck, deciding whether or not to call Kanae to drive her back or brave the eight block sprint and look like a drowned rat.

She took out her phone and finally registered the time, her shoulders slumped. Kanae would still be at work for another hour or so. Shinobu briefly thought of Kanao, but she wasn’t going to make her younger sister walk all the way over here, umbrella or no.

Shinobu shook her head and secured her phone in her bag, then tightened her shoulder strap. It was only a little over a kilometer and a half to her home. She ran laps all the time and calculated with the added weight of her bag and of course, the weather, it would probably take her about ten minutes to get home. Definitely not her fastest, but she couldn’t risk hurting herself before the meet on Friday.

She took a deep breath in through her nose, set her feet to push off the library stoop and—

“Hey, Shinobu-san!”

Shinobu’s hand shot out for the railing, stopping herself mid push off. She voiced her annoyance in a huff of air, before looking up at the sidewalk before her. Standing in the pouring rain was upperclassman Kanroji Mitsuri with a large, bright green umbrella that stung Shinobu’s eyes as well as it mocked her.

“Hello, Kanroji-senpai.” Shinobu greeted just loud enough to be heard over the pounding rain.

Mitsuri grinned brightly and Shinobu groaned inwardly as her senior skipped over in bright pink rain boots. It wasn’t that Shinobu disliked her, Kanroji was just emotional, a bit of an airhead. She acted sweet and familiar with everyone and it got on Shinobu’s nerves. Shinobu just couldn’t picture herself spending any extended period of time with the older girl, but that didn’t stop Kanroji from approaching her more often than not with frivolous chatter.

Mitsuri stopped just in front of her, asking the obvious, “Did you forget your umbrella, Shinobu-san?”

“I would hardly say ‘forgot’ is the right word, Senpai. I watched the weather report this morning. It wasn’t supposed to even sprinkle much less have this torrential downpour occur.” Shinobu bitterly replied. Mitsuri merely giggled at her Kouhai’s brusqueness before motioning her forward with her free hand.

“Come under my umbrella, Shinobu-san. I’ll walk you home, okay?” Mitsuri offered cheerfully.

“That won’t be necessary. I’ve already decided to run for it. Good day, Kanroji-senpai.” Shinobu stubbornly declined. She moved left, attempting to go off on her way, but Kanroji blocked her path, pouting.

“Come on, Shinobu-san. Let me walk you home. You’ll get sick if you run in the rain. How will I be able to cheer for you on Friday if you’re bedridden?” Mitsuri asked, coaxing Shinobu underneath her umbrella again.

“I’ll manage. I live a ways off from here.” Shinobu denied Mitsuri again, her patience running thin. She moved to the right and Mitsuri mirrored her once more.

“That’s alright, I was just out enjoying the weather. I’ve got no other plans and besides, what kind of Senpai would I be if I didn’t help out one of my cute little Kouhai!”

And Shinobu took that personally.

Yes, she was on the short side and wasn’t even a hundred pounds soaking wet, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t kick ass and take names when she wanted to. And she was not cute!

“I don’t need your help.” Shinobu said sharply, making Mitsuri flinch. The younger girl broke left once more and leapt over the stoop to land firmly on the sidewalk, soaking her feet in the large puddle. Shinobu paid it no mind and began jogging home as rain pelted her, quickly wetting her hair and clothes.

She thought that would be the end of it, but then the rain stopped hitting her and light panting could faintly be heard behind her. Shinobu glanced above her, and instead of grey skies, she saw neon green.

“Senpai, what are you doing?”

“Taking you home!” Mitsuri spoke resolutely.

Shinobu turned her head back in the direction she was going, shaking it side to side. Couldn’t Kanroji see she didn’t want her help? Shinobu was well past her threshold for politeness and respect for her senior so she scoffed and picked up her pace.

“You want to take me home then you’ve got to keep up.” She called over her shoulder before kicking up her pace a notch.

“Shinobu-san! Wait up!” Mitsuri whined, jogging after Shinobu with her umbrella arm outstretched, trying to keep up with her junior to keep them both relatively dry.

Shinobu did not wait up, gradually picking up pace, she began leaving Mitsuri behind. But Mitsuri did not give up, evident by the irregular breaths Shinobu heard behind her between rolls of thunder.

They carried on like this for nearly a full kilometer and Shinobu was glad they were the only two crazy enough to be out in this storm because she was sure they must be a sight. She leapt over a pothole in the sidewalk that she usually walked past everyday and was gearing up to run even faster when she heard a big splash and a pained sharp cry that forced her to stop in her tracks.

Turning abruptly, she felt a sharp sting of guilt pull at her chest as she took in Mitsuri laid out on the concrete, completely soaked. The poor girl must not have noticed the damaged sidewalk.

Damn it, why didn’t Shinobu just let the girl walk her home? She shouldn’t have let something so insignificant damage her pride so easily. All Mitsuri ever did was be nice to her, and now look at her.

Shinobu quickly snapped up the umbrella before it could be blown away and crouched over Mitsuri, shielding her from the downpour.

Slowly, Mitsuri made it into a sitting position and Shinobu felt exponentially worse seeing how drenched Mitsuri was and her torn tights and bloodied knees. She could tell her senior was tearing up too, this was a totally avoidable disaster.

“I’m so sorry Kanroji-senpai, do you think you can stand up?” Shinobu asked.

“I, I think so,” Mitsuri sniffled, shakily pulling a leg in front of herself.

Shinobu reached out, taking Mitsuri by the bicep in an attempt to help her stand. As soon as she touched her, visions flashed through her mind too fast to discern. She pulled back, looking at her slightly shaking hand.

Whatever had happened, Mitsuri seemed to have had a similar experience, gingerly cupping the spot on her arm Shinobu had touched, an awed expression on her face. They stared at each other for a minute, but Shinobu eventually shook her head and and helped Mitsuri up. Whatever had just happened must have been a fluke, a product of being out in this wild storm, because it didn’t happen again.

“Come on, we’re almost there. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Shinobu softly commanded, guiding Mitsuri forward.

Mitsuri aimed a small, thankful smile at Shinobu that made the younger girl’s ears burn. She shouldn’t be looking at her like that, this had all been her fault after all. Shinobu kept her attention on the street, tightening her hold on the basically useless umbrella as they walked the rest of the way to her home together.

***

Shinobu unlocked the front door and pushed it open with a sigh, “I’m home and I’ve brought company!” She called out before turning her attention back to Mitsuri. “You can hang your jacket there. Leave your boots there and follow me.”

“You have a lovely home Shinobu-san.” Mitsuri complimented, shaking off her jacket. “Are your parents home?”

“Uh no, they’re a usually off on pharmacy business so it’s mostly just my sisters and I.” Shinobu answered, tugging off her soaked socks.

“Oh! I remember your big sister, she was so nice! I haven’t seen her since she graduated. Is she here now?”

“She’s working.” Shinobu answered curtly, focusing on the list in her head of how to best tackle the state of mess they were in.

“Welcome home Nee-san... and guest.” Kanao called softly from further down the hall, observing her sister’s disheveled form curiously.

“Hi, Kanao.” Shinobu greeted, stepping into the main portion of the home with Mitsuri trailing behind her.

“Aw, is this your little sister?” Mitsuri cooed, waving excitedly, “it’s nice to meet you! I’ve seen you at some of Shinobu-san’s cross country and track events in the past. I didn’t realize you two were related!”

Kanao, not purposefully, ignored her, still focusing on Shinobu. “Nee-san, you’re wet.” She stated matterofactly.

“Yes, I know. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready to help you start dinner, alright?”

Kanao nodded and walked away, disappearing around the corner while Shinobu lead Mitsuri in another direction. The older girl squealed.

“Your little sister is so cute, Shinobu-san. I already have five younger siblings but one more wouldn’t hurt if it was Kanao-chan!”

Shinobu merely rolled her eyes and pulled Mitsuri into the bathroom. “Wait here a minute,” Shinobu said before leaving the room.

When she came back, she had a pair of Kanae’s shorts and one of her own oversized track hoodies for Mitsuri to change into, placing them on a clear edge of the sink.

“You can change into these after you shower, use whatever you want, I don’t care... maybe not the white bottle of conditioner, Kanae’s weird about that for some reason.”

“That’s very generous of you, thank you Shinobu-san!” Mitsuri beamed.

Mitsuri was elated. What started out as a failed attempt to chivalrously walk Shinobu home in the rain, had allowed her to be present in the home of one of the people she admired most. After months of trying and trying to get closer to Shinobu, she finally had an opportunity to grow their relationship!

Shinobu nodded in acknowledgment before leaving Mitsuri in the bathroom. Then Mitsuri warmed up the shower and took off her damp uniform, pouting a bit at the sight of her ripped tights and skinned knees.

As Mitsuri immersed herself in the warmth of the water she ran her fingers over where Shinobu had touched her arm and wondered what had happened. There was a connection between her and Shinobu, of that much she was certain. She could tell that her Kouhai had shared the experience as well. She decided that they would definitely have to talk about it soon.

Mitsuri peered over the mixed array of shampoos, conditioners and body wash and picked three. Being mindful to leave the white bottle of conditioner as Shinobu had suggested. She popped the cap of the shampoo and squirted some in her hand and lathered it into her hair. The smell of ginger and lemon grass enveloped her and Mitsuri teetered giddily on her feet as she rubbed the familiar scent into her hair.

Mitsuri finished washing up and dried off, slipping into the clothing Shinobu had provided for her. As she bent down to pick up her wet clothes, she caught a faint whiff of a wisteria scented perfume. She pulled at the front of the giant sweatshirt Shinobu had given her and took a testing smell.

She felt transported to another time as images flashed through her mind once again. She blinked pack to attention as a knock sounded against the bathroom door.

“Kanroji-senpai, are you almost done? I can put your clothes in the wash for you if you slip them out the door.” Shinobu’s muffled voice called.

“Ah! I’m done, I’ll be out in just a second!” Mitsuri called back, hastily grabbing up her clothes before yanking the door open quickly and startling the younger girl.

“No kidding.” Shinobu blinked. “Well then, I’ll put those in the wash for you and you can hang out in the kitchen with Kanao while I get cleaned up. Don’t expect her to be much of a conversationalist though.”

“Okay, thank you again for all of this, Shinobu-san. You’ve been very kind.” Mitsuri smiled.

“Don’t thank me for doing the bare minimum here, okay?” Shinobu sighed, “just go sit down.” Shinobu turned swiftly on her heel and went to the laundry room with rosy cheeks.

Mitsuri hugged the sweatshirt, pulling it closer to her skin to send another little burst of wisteria to her nose, humming pleasantly to herself as she made her way to the kitchen. The delicious smells that guided her made her stomach growl and she realized just how hungry she was.

She took a seat at the kitchen island, shooting Kanao another little wave. The middle schooler hardly looked up, focusing more intently of the vegetables she was cutting. Mitsuri tapped her fingers rhythmically against the table and watched Kanao work. Then, the best idea popped into her head. She had just been presented with an opportunity to learn more about Shinobu through one of her sisters! In an attempt to look casual, Mitsuri leaned over the counter.

“So Kanao-chan, what’s it like having Shinobu-san as a sister?” She asked.

“Good.” Kanao replied simply.

“Ah, good.” Mitsuri deflated a little. She was hoping for a little more, but it was a start.

“Any examples? What makes Shinobu-san good?”

Kanao put her vegetables in a pan lightly drizzled with oil and mixed them as the sizzled.

“Nee-san is clean and orderly. She is good at explaining things and helping people and makes me feel safe.”

It was almost enough to make Mitsuri squee with delight. Kanao made Shinobu sound so princely and put together.

“That’s nice, you must really look up to her then. I hope I can grow to be as close to your sister as you are.”

Kanao nodded slightly, watching the vegetables closely and stirring them up on occasion.

“I’m home! It smells great in here!” A voice called from the front entrance. “Oh? Either Shinobu developed a more colorful fashion sense or we have a guest.”

A few moments later, Kanae emerged from the hall and smiled kindly at Mitsuri, “Hello there, a friend of Shinobu’s perhaps? You look familiar.”

“Hi, yes, I’m Kanroji Mitsuri. I’m a year older than Shinobu, I was a first year when you were a third year.”

“Ah, I remember now! It’s good to see you Kanroji-san. I’d tell you to make yourself at home, but it appears Shinobu has become a better hostess in my absence.” Kanae said, motioning to Mitsuri’s state of dress.

“Oh yes, this! I was walking Shinobu-san home and had a little mishap and got wet.” Mitsuri vaguely explained.

Kanae laughed as she maneuvered around the counter to stand behind Kanao and patted her head, making the younger girl smile just a tiny bit.

“Yes, it’s raining quite terribly out there isn’t it? I could hardly see driving home. You’ll be staying the night won’t you? It’s much too dangerous to be out and about.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose!” Mitsuri shook her head.

“You wouldn’t be, I promise. I insist you stay the night. Do you need to borrow a phone to call your parents?”

“That’s alright, I can text them. Thank you.”

“No problem!”

After a quick back and forth with her mom, she was all set. She only hoped Shinobu wouldn’t mind her staying over. The girl definitely seemed the type to cherish her personal space.

Mitsuri turned her attention back to the two sisters, watching them cook together. She offered up her own hand and joined in on the work easily meshing personalities with Kanae and conversing as they made the food.

It’s nice to see Shinobu bring a friend home.” Kanae smiled. “She usually likes to compartmentalize school, sports, and her home life and doesn’t tolerate much mixing.”

“It was kind of my fault.” Mitsuri said sheepishly. “I didn’t give her much choice in the matter. I wanted to get to know her better but instead I face planted in the sidewalk. I think she would have liked to be left alone.”

“Trust me, if Shinobu thought you deserved to be left out there she wouldn’t have even turned around as bad as that may sound. Shinobu is strict and grumpy, but can also be very kind and gentle. She knows how to push people to be better but also knows when they are struggling and need a softer touch. She’s a pretty good judge of character too so she must think highly of you. Don’t worry about it too much, okay?” Kanae explained.

Mitsuri smiled and nodded, looking into her cup of water as her head spun with the eldest Kochou’s words. Shinobu thought she was good!

“Welcome home, Nee-san.” Shinobu appeared from the hallway and made Mitsuri jump in her seat.

“Shinobu, I love your friend! You should invite Mitsuri-chan over more often!” Kanae said, setting out the food.

Shinobu ruffled her hair with the towel she had draped over her shoulders and made a noncommittal noise that made her sister giggle. Mitsuri barely registered what was going on around her, too busy admiring the disarray of Shinobu’s usually perfectly made hair and how Mitsuri could see the toned shape of Shinobu’s legs through her leggings and how cute she looked in that oversized cross country hoodie that seemed to swallow her up. It was all a stark contrast to how she presented herself at school and Mitsuri wanted to burn the image into her mind forever.

The four girls sat together and ate dinner. Kanae and Mitsuri held up most of the conversation but it was light and comfortable. Mitsuri nearly swooned when Shinobu filled her plate with second and third helpings for her, cutting off her internal dilemma before it really started.

Then they cleaned everything up and as the thunder crashed especially loud and the rain tapped furiously on the windows, the girls sat around the living room and worked on their homework. Shinobu had already finished hers while she was at the library so she paged through some enrichment texts about botany and medicine. Occasionally helping Kanao with her homework before diving right back into her book.

Mitsuri was beyond impressed with Shinobu’s academic mind. She knew the girl was smart, but reading such heavy texts for fun? Mitsuri was amazed! She was a good student herself, often surprising her more shallow peers with her knowledge and skill, but Shinobu was definitely on another level. It made Mitsuri a bit envious of Kanao, being able to check in with Shinobu whenever she had a question. Mitsuri looked back down at her biology homework before flicking her eyes back to Shinobu lounging on the couch with her book. Maybe...

“Shinobu-san?” Mitsuri tentatively asked. “Do you think you could check my work on this?”

“We’re in different years, Kanroji-senpai. I don’t know what you’re learning.” Shinobu said, not unkindly.

“I’m sure you already understand it. You seem to love the sciences Shinobu-san. Take a look, please?” Mitsuri tilted her head and batted her eyes.

Shinobu seemed to mull it over and then marked her page. Mitsuri golf clapped and bounced in her seat as the Kouhai walked over and sat next to her at the table, peering at her work. A small, pleased smile worked its way on Shinobu’s face as she realized that she new the material and it made Mitsuri smile in turn.

Shinobu looked through Mitsuri’s work and helped correct a few minor mistakes, but otherwise her work was spot on. Which Mitsuri found a tad unfortunate since Shinobu would get closer and bump arms with her and the wisteria scent would swirl through her head whenever she noticed an error.

Before long, all homework was completed and they watched a little tv before deciding they needed to turn in for the night and get ready for school the next day.

“Shinobu, you should help Mitsuri-chan make sure her knees didn’t get any debris stuck in them from that nasty tumble I heard about. I’ll set up the extra futon in your room while you do that.” Kanae said, already walking off before her sister could interject.

“Fine.” Shinobu muttered anyway, leading Mitsuri back to the bathroom and motioning her to sit up on the sink so she could better see the grazed knees.

The shower had already cleaned them off well enough, but a bit of antibacterial spray wouldn’t hurt. Shinobu took the spray from the cupboard and showed it to Mitsuri.

“You’re knees look clean, but if you want me to give them a spray of this, I can.”

Mitsuri was a bit wary. The spray was sure to sting, but being cared for by Shinobu like this made her heart flutter pleasantly.

“I wouldn’t mind a spray, thank you.”

“Sure.” Shinobu shrugged, popping the cap and spraying both of Mitsuri’s knees without a second thought.

“Ow!” Mitsuri whined. The spray really did sting.

“Sorry, I probably should have warned you.” Shinobu said, looking genuinely contrite. “Here, let me just—“ Shinobu cut herself off, blowing a gentle breeze over Mitsuri’s knees, cooling the stinging sensation.

Mitsuri was suddenly brought back to another memory that felt like it was not quite all her own. Her hand cupped in another’s as a gentle wind blew over scraped knuckles, the scent of wisteria growing stronger for a moment before she blinked and was back in Shinobu’s bathroom again.

After a moment Shinobu cleared her throat and returned to her full height, capping the spray and putting it back in its place.

“Well, better get to bed now I guess.” She said, hardly waiting for Mitsuri to follow her to her room. They said goodnight to Kanae and Kanao before shutting themselves in.

Mitsuri watched Shinobu climb into her futon, mouth slightly agape. She could hardly believe the girl wanted to go to sleep right now with all the weird visions they were experiencing. She simply had to voice this now.

“Shinobu-san, don’t you think we should talk about these weird visions we’ve been having? I can tell, you see them too, don’t you?”

“I don’t think it’s anything significant. Just hope they aren’t hallucinations brought on by being out in the rain too long. I’d hate to be sick.” Shinobu said, curling up in her futon.

“But— it’s so specific! It’s got to be more than that, right?” Mitsuri said in return.

“I don’t believe so.”

Mitsuri couldn’t believe Shinobu was ready to dismiss this all so quickly, she looked down at the hoodie she was wearing and got an idea.

“These shorts aren’t yours, but this is your sweatshirt though, isn’t it Shinobu-san?”

“Yeah.” Shinobu answered, peering up at Mitsuri inquisitively.

“You know how I can tell?”

“Because it says track and field across the front?” Shinobu asked with a bit of sass.

“No!” Mitsuri crossed her arms, “It’s because it has this wisteria scent to it when I smelled it, I had another one of those visions! I think we have a real connection Shinobu-san!”

“Hm.” Was all Shinobu could bring herself to say on the matter which made Mitsuri frown cutely.

“Shinobu-san, don’t you want to try to figure this out?”

“Not particularly. I honestly don’t think there is anything to figure out,” Shinobu flipped over, snuggling further into her covers, “I’d like to go to sleep now, I’ve got early morning practice tomorrow. Good night, Kanroji-senpai.”

“You should call me Mitsuri now. Your sisters picked it up so easily! I won’t go to bed until I hear you say it!” Mitsuri huffed, expecting Shinobu to try to hold out all night but was very surprised.

“Go to bed, Mitsuri.” Shinobu’s muffled voice called from under the covers, making Mitsuri squee with unrestrained joy.

“This is great! Hey, can I call you Shinobu-chan now maybe? Hm?”

“I don’t care.”

“Okay Shinobu-chan, prepare yourself because starting tomorrow, I’m going to figure out what this connection we have between us is!”

Mitsuri didn’t get another reply, but she didn’t mind. She snuggled into her futon and closed her eyes, thanking the quieting storm for giving her this opportunity.

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #30 - The Cybertronian Judicial System is a Friggin’ Joke

Have I mentioned that I’m not a huge fan of court case stories? I think they’re pretty boring, on average, so the last couple of issues have been slightly dragging for me.

Anyway, back to Megatron’s trial. 

Our issue opens up with a full back shot of Ultra Magnus.

Artists take note, he really is built like a capital T.

As Magnus reads out Megatron’s statement retracting his “guilty” plea, we get some decent points as to why. See, telling a guy that you’ll stab him in the brain, so his trial can be over as quickly as possible, maybe isn’t such a hot idea. Megatron wasn’t a huge fan of that, or of how those memories they would’ve yanked outta him would have been used to fuel the Autobot propaganda machine. Why, you may ask?

Well, I don’t know if you knew this or not, but Megatron… doesn’t particularly care for the Autobots, nor the rhetoric they uphold.

I know, I was surprised too!

There’s also the fact that Optimus Prime is the judge on this whole thing. You know. Optimus Prime. Off and on leader of the Autobots, whenever it suits him. The guy who fucked off into space for a year after the war. The guy who threw a hissy fit when someone pointed out that he was compromised the last time they did something like this with Megatron. This guy:

Yeah, there might be a slight conflict of interests here. Remind me again why this had to be a military trial?

Anyway, enough of that, it’s time for a fight scene.

A swarm of Decepticons storm the arena, going after Megatron so they can help him escape. Magnus, though acting as Megatron’s defense, cannot abide by this disorder in the court.

Wild to think there’s a tiny little Pringles man with anxiety in there, isn’t it?

Optimus joins the fray, because there really are, just, so many guys to deal with here. A dude goes to collect Megatron, stating that they brought teleport packs for this little shindig. Megatron isn’t super jazzed about that though, not bothering to grab on before the dude gets shot to death. There’s a brief recess, I guess so the janitorial staff can deal with the mess of corpses littering the courtroom.

Meanwhile, in the present day, Rung’s building a model spaceship in Swerve’s, which is a very brave thing to be doing, seeing how sticky and gross bars can be. Brainstorm’s brought a flask to the bar, and proceeds to pour the contents into a funnel sticking out of his arm.

Our bartender for the evening- I’m assuming it’s evening, but I doubt the concept of time has any real weight in space- is Bluestreak. Bluestreak was stationed on Earth for a while, which is some Phase One stuff, and took a liking to human media while he was there. He’s the guy who handles movie night these days, seeing as Rewind’s too busy being dead to do it, and I doubt Chromedome has the emotional bandwidth to take over for his late spouse.

Bluestreak’s favorite movie is Zulu, a film glorifying the colonialism of the English over the native populace of an African kingdom. Make of that what you will.

Whirl wants to watch À Bout de Soufflé, or Breathless, as it was translated for the English-speaking world, which is a French New Wave film about a criminal who shoots a cop, hides from the police in a journalist’s home, who he seduces and likely impregnates. She eventually finds out what he did, reports him to the police, but then has a change of heart and lets him know what she’s done. He runs, but is shot, and dies in the street. The film is notable for its final scene, in which the following dialogue happens, between the dying criminal Michael, his lover Patricia, and an officer.

Of course, any poignancy would almost certainly be lost on the average comic book reader, and is also somewhat nullified by Whirl praising the film with internet lingo.

Then again, I suppose Whirl would be the type to dismantle any deeper reading of his interest in such a film, lest he be subjected to the horrifying ordeal of being known.

Over with Skids and Riptide, it’s revealed that Megatron’s been teaching classes on the Lost Light, specifically on the Knights of Cybertron. Riptide’s getting an education, because he’s been feeling pretty lost since the war ended- we’ll get to the potential whys of that later on. Swerve isn’t a fan of this community college thing that’s going on, stating that Megatron’s using it as a distraction, so he can devise plots most foul.

Back in the past, Autobot high command is having a talk about what Megatron’s demanding, and man is it a doozy— turns out, since the trial’s happening on Luna 2, the trial proceedings are subject to the laws of the moon. One of these moon laws is the right to request being judged by the Knights of Cybertron. Now, this is a problem, seeing as the Knights of Cybertron have been AWOL for the last several million years, but the law is the law, and you can’t just go ignoring it when someone’s pointed it out.

Bro, your SIC just suggested y’all pull the trial so you could slap it on Cybertron, thus negating any need to pay attention to the Knight law. That’s such a gross miscarrying of justice, it’s genuinely baffling. You’ve got bigger issues going on than flouting. My god, Optimus, you were a cop—

Oh wait, that’s right. Carry on, then.

Back on the Lost Light, First Aid’s checking to make sure that the coffin Rodimus they revealed last issue is true and proper dead. Now, this may seem like a given, but you’ve got to remember that Brainstorm was mostly dead for over a year and a half, and nobody fucking noticed, so it’s probably for the best that they’re checking.

First Aid’s been pretty withdrawn since Ambulon died, so this autopsy is really good for him, since it got him out of his room. Pretty fucked up that it would take a dead body to get him out and about. Has Rung checked in on his poor son of a gun, or has he been spending the last six months getting his professional rocks off psychoanalyzing a genocidal warlord?

Our coffin Rodimus died from having parts of his brain removed, and potentially died screaming.

Yes, that is a Furmanism, thank you peanut gallery, moving on—

Ratchet hands the phone over to Ultra Magnus, saying that a call has to be made, and it can’t be by him, because the callee is mighty upset with Ratchet at the moment.

Oh, I guess he’s fine after all. This must be where the sci-fi bullshit really starts kicking in for the series.

Because seeing your own dead body is likely very traumatic and awful, Rodimus is taking a while to string together his thoughts on the matter. Megatron doesn’t particularly care, because he’s not terribly sympathetic to this sort of thing, and the two get into a spat, where it’s revealed that they’re co-captaining the Lost Light.

Because things weren’t chaotic enough on this fucking ship. Need to mix in some peacocking between the McDonalds twunk and the man who killed half of Beijing.

Back in the past, Optimus Prime visited Megatron in prison to have a little chat. It’s not about that little rescue attempt, though the fact that those Decepticons may have been released from the Lost Light’s brig is certainly interesting. No, Optimus is here to sit way too close to his mortal nemesis on the floor of his room and talk about how Megatron is a sneaky bastard.

You remember the Hellraiser puzzle box from a couple issues back? Yeah, that was a communicube, one that was passed to Optimus to suggest that the trial be held on the moon, so the arena there would be able to hold all the people wronged by Megatron. This seems pretty damn convenient in hindsight, but Megatron swears that the legal loophole wasn’t his only intent when he sent the cube.

Because it’s all about you, isn’t it, Megatron? It’s all about how you’re perceived by future generations. Fuck the guys who had to actually deal with what your personal choices caused to happen.

Megatron wants to make amends with all those who were wronged by him. This doesn’t include being acquitted of his crimes, which, y’know, good- at least he’s being slightly realistic about how this is going to turn out for him.

What he wants to do is find Cyberutopia, so the Cybertronians have a replacement planet, since Cybertron kind of sucks now.

Oh, sorry, did I say realistic? I take it back.

In the present, Rodimus is still bummed out about being dead. Still, the day doesn’t stop just because it’s a bad one, and he calls in the experts.

CHROMEDOME YOU PROMISED TO STOP THIS SHIT

Yeah, no, Chromedome’s fallen off the wagon again, and does his thing on the coffin Rodimus. As he does, Megatron suddenly gets squeamish, Brainstorm pulls out his early early-warning device to lean on the fourth wall, and it’s revealed that the coffin that coffin Rodimus was in was built in the fashion of the Spectralist faith.

All Chromedome can suss out of coffin Rodimus’ memories is the really big important stuff, which includes the speech at Rivet’s Field inviting folks to come join the Knight Quest. Aww, that’s sweet.

With the analysis of the innermost energon complete, the results are in— the coffin Rodimus is a Rodimus. A real one, from the near future. Bummer.

I suppose denial is one of the seven stages of grief, isn’t it?

As everyone argues over whether or not Rodimus is going to die, Nightbeat brings up a good point— there aren’t any numbers carved into the coffin Rodimus’ hand. Rodimus is about to reveal some Ratchet-original wisdom, when things start getting really weird; whole sections of the Lost Light are disappearing.

Over at Swerve’s, Tailgate is regaling his peers with the story of his derring-do against Chief Justice Tyrest. Everyone is very impressed, and this includes our good buddy Getaway.

Jeez, think you’ve got enough antagonist shadows on this guy? It’s almost as if the art’s trying to tell us something about him.

Getaway lays it on real thick, saying that Tailgate could totally be the next Prime, with how courageous and awesome he is, all while completely ignoring Tailgate’s personal space and having a weirdly tiny hand. This seems to seriously bother Cyclonus, who is watching this shit go down from the doorway. Our purple space jet leaves once the drinks start being poured and conversation starts happening. God knows he hates talking about his insecurities.

Then the Pipes is Friggin’ Dead alarm goes off. But Pipes has been dead for a while now, so that must mean something else awful is happening.

Back during the trial, I guess because Optimus has a soft spot for Megatron, he allows him to join the Lost Light’s Knight Quest… even as he says that he could keep the guy locked up until Rodimus and pals find the Knights. However, there are rules to this, and one of the rules is that Megatron must publicly denounce the Decepticon cause.

It is a slow and painful experience for everyone involved, as he reads the statement he was given. It’s an immediate call to action- or rather, inaction.

Geez, think they could’ve made it any more obvious that this was being ghostwritten? I can’t wait to see how long it takes for “Megatron was blackmailed into saying this by the Autobots” to be a plotpoint.

Outside the prison, Ratchet and Rodimus are taking in the brand new Rod Pod, which is genuinely ridiculous in how large it is. Rodimus admits to having taken Atomizer’s list, though he knows that trying to use it to keep those who voted him off would be a pretty shitty thing to do.

Also, no one’s told him about Megatron coming along on the trip. As captain.

Or you could, I dunno, lock him up from the start. Or, if you want to give him a chance to prove himself, slap him into a bottom-rung role, like bilge cleaner, or sewage mucker, or whatever the equivalent would be on a spaceship full of giant gay robots. We don’t have to give the guy any power to hold him to scrutiny— any minimum wage worker will tell you that scrutiny comes far harsher for those who actually carry out orders than those who give them.

But what do I know? I’ve never fought in a several million year war, and I don’t plan to.

Getting back to the list, it seems as if Ratchet and Rodimus are on the same wavelength, in that both agree it’s only going to cause trouble and hurt feelings to keep the thing around. Rodimus destroys it with his usual flare, only to be blindsided by the fact that it was fake this entire time. How does Ratchet know this?

Because his name wasn’t on it.

...Man, that’s gotta sting. No wonder Rodimus was upset enough to not take his calls.

In the present, everyone’s in a panic, as they all bolt for the shuttle bay and start pouring into shuttles. The Lost Light is disintegrating around them, which is sort of a problem. Despite this nightmare scenario happening, Rodimus and Megatron still find the time to be assholes to each other. That’s dedication right there.

As the two bicker, multiple shuttles zip away from the rapidly disappearing ship, including the Rod Pod.

Man, now it really is the Lost Light.

[janetbrown711]

"Don't look at me like that. " warner sibs 🥺

To say Yakko was feeling anxious about his brother’s return home was an understatement. 

Wakko hadn’t given a return address on his last three letters, nor had he sent money, which meant things were very, very bad for him. Especially since there had been a long stretch of time where he didn’t get any letters anymore. Yakko had been worried sick when he didn’t hear from him for weeks. His mind had paced endlessly, thinking about what could’ve happened to him. After all, Wakko had just been at a farm with a stable job a few weeks ago, what could’ve happened in that time? 

His anxiety had then melted into relief when he got the first letter from Wakko in a month, but that then turned to confusion when the only think Wakko had written was an apology for not writing, and assurances that everything was fine. No details. No return address. No reason for why he hadn’t written. Nothing. 

Yakko had been angry after that. However, his anger had quickly melted when he accidentally took it out on Dot. He hadn’t hit her, but there was a lot of shouting that night, to say the least.

Thank goodness Dot was the forgiving sort and that he was back to cuddling with her by night time. He wasn’t sure how much he could’ve forgiven himself if she had stayed mad and maybe even-

Yakko still had a problem with jumping to only the worst conclusions. 

His anger had then faded into exhaustion and longing for his brother to return home. Dot had gone through two rough patches in his absence, and Yakko and Dot were both starting to crack without his optimistic outlook on life.

Yakko hoped that if anything, his optimism managed to stay with him after what he’d gone through. 

Then, his exhaustion had faded into careful optimism with his last letter- the letter before that seeming to only be a rehash of the first. In the last letter, Wakko had announced he had enough money to pay for a train ticket home. How his little brother managed to get the money was beyond Yakko, but he was relieved. For a moment there, Yakko believed his brother might never come home, and seeing the words written down on paper made Yakko feel renewed, though... also conflicted. He was furious, he was concerned, he was anxious, he was overjoyed, he was all of that all at once. Yakko didn’t think it was possible to feel so many emotions at once. 

And yet, here he was. With Dot curled up in his lap, clutching her purple blanket he had bought for her a few months back from the suspicious bonus Wakko had received, and waiting for the train. Yet again,  it seemed the entire town was waiting as well. Acme Falls had really fallen down on their luck in a year, little to no businesses were open and the only reason they survived was that they shared. If Wakko came back with money, it could help revive the community greatly. 

Yakko just hoped that whatever amount he brought back, it would be enough to cover Dot’s surgery. Yakko wasn’t sure how much more he could handle. And how much Dot could handle either.

God, Yakko was proud of his sister. She was easily the strongest person he knew. Sure, she would slip every now and then, who wouldn’t in her situation, but she somehow always managed to pick herself up. During her good patches, she went for walks, she picked flowers outside of their home, she was learning how to sew from Yakko- an idea that had sparked from when he had to sew her skirt with pieces of his scarf after getting a giant hole in it after tripping over herself. her resilience and want to keep living life was admirable to everyone who saw her. 

Yakko snapped back into reality when his ears perked up and in the distance, he could hear it- the train was arriving. 

Happily, he shook his little sister awake and she sprung to life. 

“Is he here? Is Wakko here?” She asked with a big smile. 

“Not yet, but soon,” He winked playfully. Dot then ran up from the bench and waited on the edge of the platform, practically bouncing from excitement. That was far more than what Yakko could manage- he hadn’t been able to sleep the whole previous night out of worries and thoughts. Still, he was happy for her, though his other swirl of emotions was still within him too. 

He couldn't help but laugh a little when Dot started telling anyone who would listen that her brother was on that train and he was going to come back with a fortune. Yakko winced at that, but tried to keep his smile. After all, he had been able to buy a train ticket. Hopefully, that left him with something left over. He didn’t want Dot or the town to be let down.

Eventually, the train got closer and closer, and Yakko went to join his sister by the platform. Slowly and loudly, the train came to an eventual stop, and steam filled the platform, and out of that steam came-

“Hi!”

“Wakko!!!” Dot ran and gave him the tightest hug she could muster, which Wakko quickly returned. They stayed hugging for quite the length, and when they let go, Wakko looked to the crowd and got a familiar look on his face.

Ever the showmen, Wakko grinned before greeting the crowd. "My friends of Acme Falls, I have brought my fortune! A ha’penny!” he displayed his ha’penny and the crowd cheered and Wakko was overwhelmed with greetings from old friends and people he had worked with as they all gave him suggestions of what he should spend it on. After all, ha’pennies were worth a lot more than they were a year ago. Yakko gave his own thoughts to his brother here and there but figured it was best he wait until after everyone left for a proper hug and reunion. Wakko was really excited about going shopping and figuring out what to buy anyway, Yakko could wait a little while longer. 

Plus he still had that emotional swirl to work through. 

However, he was distracted from that when Wakko announced to everyone that he’d be spending his ha’penny on paying for Dot’s surgery, which made Dot very, very happy. The town cheered for him, understanding; Acme Falls was good that way.

Despite the joy and relief the town was feeling, Yakko still felt something was off. He looked around at the crowd surrounding his brother and sister as they walked through and noticed Ralph was missing. Yakko’s eyes widened when he realized that could only mean- 

“Yes Wakko, we’re all thrilled about your good fortune- however, about your taxes...”

The Tax Collector, Thaddeus Plotz. 

Yakko hated that man more than most anyone else on the planet, though of course, Salazar took the number one seat on that. 

Everyone else in the crowd seemed to have the same thought, as the joy had seemingly been sucked out of everyone’s faces as they watched Plotz and Wakko. 

“Taxes? What taxes? I just got here! And before that I had to pay taxes at River Town,” Wakko fought back. 

“Oh? But that doesn’t matter, today is tax day in Acme Falls. Now, let’s calculate how much you owe- oh the King will be so delightful,” He grinned as he got out a piece of paper and started writing. 

“The King is a jerk,” Wakko growled. 

“Oh goodie, that qualifies you for the “saying-the-king-is-a-jerk” tax, how wonderful,” Plotz grinned wickedly. Wakko shot Yakko a look of helplessness and all Yakko could do was shrug. 

“...and that brings your grand total to... one ha’penny,” He said as he snatched the coin from Wakko’s hand and ran back into his stupid carriage he used as a shield, before leaning out the window and adding-

“Your federal government thanks you!”

“Wha..? B-but...” Wakko’s ears fell the lowest Yakko had ever seen them. Yakko grimaced, but knew there really was nothing to be done, no matter how terrible it was. The last thing any of them needed was the royal guard on their backs, so they had to accept this, no matter how crummy and unfair and terrible it was. 

With a heavy sigh, Yakko went over and patted his brother on the back and slowly guided him and Dot back home. 

“I-i... I worked so hard...” Wakko kept repeating while they walked, and Yakko was ninety percent sure he was crying. Hell- Yakko would’ve been crying too, but he put on a brave face for his little sibs. 

“I know Wak, I know,” Yakko sighed. “Let’s just get home, we can talk about what we’ll do then.”

And so the Warner siblings walked back to their home in silence. Yakko did his best not to look at either of them, for fear that he’d crumble into a million little pieces the moment Dot or Wakko looked at him. 

Eventually, they did make it to their rickety little home. Yakko showed Wakko where his bed was, Dot went to her own, and then Yakko sat down on his bed to think about what they were gonna do next. 

He couldn’t believe he had let himself believe that all of his worries would disappear with Wakko’s return. He should’ve known Plotz could sniff all happiness and money from 50 miles away and should’ve warned Wakko to put it away. Now they were never going to be able to-

N-never be able to-

Oh god...

Dot was going to die, wasn’t she?

Without the ha’penny, they could never afford the surgery a-and-

She was going to die. 

Yakko was going to have to bury her a-and then i-it would just be him and Wakko. 

Yakko buried his head in his hands and wept. 

He wept for Dot. He wept for Wakko. He wept for his parents and he wept for the promises he was unable to keep. 

After a very, very long time of crying, he heard a small knock on his door, and immediately tried to regain his composure. There was no way in hell he was letting his sibs see him like this. 

He took deep breaths, wiped his face on his blanket, breathed some more, and put on a weak smile before opening his door. 

“Yes Wakko?” He asked. 

“You said you wanted to talk about what to do next when we got here. We gave you some time a-alone and well...” Wakko looked at the ground. Yakko internally facepalmed, not believing he let himself forget. 

“Right, of course. lead the way,” Yakko gestured and the brothers walked back to the “fireplace” and sat on boxes. 

“S-so...” Wakko said. 

“So...” Dot said, glancing at Wakko, then Yakko, then at the ground. Yakko sighed. 

“Look, I’m going to be frank, it’s going to be rough, but-”

“-But i could go out again. To a different town this time! Maybe I could even leave the country- there has to be better opportunities-”

“No.” Yakko shut him down. “You aren’t going anywhere and I am not going to be persuaded this time.”

“Yeah Wakko, how can you say that?” Dot looked hurt. “We just got you back, you can’t leave!”

“But it wasn’t enough! I failed! I-i didn’t get enough money...” Wakko’s eyes filled with tears as he looked at the ground.

“Wakko, you didn’t fail,” Yakko put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Yes I did, I didn’t bring home enough for her surgery, which was the whole reason I left in the first place,” Wakko sniffled. 

“You left home to help provide for us, which you did. Look around Wak,” Yakko gestured around. “I was able to buy Dot a shawl to keep her warm in the winter, some hay for her bed, new blankets for all three of us. You leaving helped us a lot, even though we missed you every day, right Dot?” He looked at his sister for moral support. 

“Yeah Wakko! It’s because of you I’m still okay,” Dot smiled sweetly, but Yakko could see she was holding back a cough. 

“See Wak? Your sacrifice wasn’t for nothing, and we’re plenty glad to have you back, understand?” He said, distracting him from noticing what Dot was doing. Wakko slowly nodded, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. 

“Sorry...” Wakko apologized. Yakko sighed and stood up, pulling his little brother into a hug. 

“You did the best you could Wak. I’m really, really proud of you,” Yakko said. Wakko nodded, and hugged him back. 

Despite everything, Yakko smiled a little. 

It was good to have his brother back.  

Yakko waited until Wakko let go to sit back down. He drummed his fingers against his thigh and thought for a moment, before getting an idea. 

“I have an idea you two: While you’ve been gone, I’ve been working on making a special sled for Dot. I say tomorrow we take it out and have some fun in the snow, does that sound okay?” He asked. Dot nodded and managed a little smile. 

“That sounds like fun, right Wakko?” She asked, glancing at him. Wakko only nodded. 

“I’m gonna go for a sec... I’ll be back soon,” Wakko said, walking out of the home. Yakko nodded. 

“Try not to stay out past dark,” He advised, unsure if his brother heard or not. Guess he’d have to see. 

“Is Wakko okay?” Dot hugged Yakko’s arm. 

“Today was really rough for him, but I’m sure he’ll feel better after a good night’s rest,” Yakko hoped. Dot nodded. 

“I hope so,” She said. “He looks really tired.”

“I’m sure everything will be better tomorrow. Here, it’s getting late, you should get going to bed,” Yakko said, looking at the sunset. Dot agreed with a yawn, and together they walked into her room. She coughed a little as she laid down, and he tucked her in. 

“Goodnight Dot, sleep tight,” he whispered, smiling warmly yet tiredly.  

“Yakko, tell me the story,” Dot grabbed his arm before he could go. Yakko sighed. She had grown awfully attached to the story he had spun to comfort her about their parents and how they fell in love and eventually had Dot. 

“Okay,” He said, before grinning mischievously. “There once was a man from Nantucket-”

“Not that story,” Dot shot him a look and Yakko laughed a little. 

“Look Dot, it’s late. You should go to sleep,” He said, knowing that he was definitely going to lose this argument. 

“Oh come on, Yakko. Tell me the story... please?” She pleaded with her signature puppy dog eyes.

"Oh come on, dont look at me like that," He thought. Yakko sighed, he was always a sucker for her.

“Oh, alright,” He smiled, and rolled his eyes as Dot scooted over in excitement.

He then told the tale of how his parents met, how their father was a handsome knight, and there mother was a beautiful princes, and how they had two sons but wanted a little girl, and told her that she was born in the spring with the prettiest flowers. He then turned to face Dot and talked about how every night they’d ask “Who’s the cutest girl?” and Dot would reply, “Me!” and then they’d ask “how were you so cute” and she’d reply, “I was born with it.” He then said they’d demand for her to “tell us your name young lady” and Dot would list off her very long name with perfection. He’d then tickle her and she’d kick and giggle until she tired herself out and curled back into her bed.

“I like that story,” Dot smiled as she closed her eyes. 

“Goodnight sis,” Yakko smiled a little too.

Was it a story full of lies and half-truths? Yes.

But did it always manage to bring a smile to Dot’s face, even on the hardest days? Also yes.

And besides, Yakko didn’t mind remembering his parents in a positive light.

He then blew out the candle in her room and left, and stumbled into Wakko, who had been watching anxiously. 

“How is she?” He asked. Yakko shrugged. 

“She seems to be okay tonight, but who knows,” Yakko admitted. Wakko’s eyes felt to the floor as he turned away. 

“If only I had earned more...” Wakko muttered to himself. 

“Hey,” Yakko turned and put his hands on his brother’s shoulders. “You did your best Wakko. We’ll pay for her operation some other way,” he said, not really knowing how, but forcing himself to hope anyway.

“I guess,” Wakko sighed and went over to a springboard that he had somehow turned into a functioning harp. Yakko stared at it and admired the craftsmanship. 

Despite Wakko’s claims that his trip had been for nothing, Yakko knew it had turned into a skilled craftsman. 

“You turning in?” He asked softly. 

“To what?” Wakko didn’t look back at him. 

Yakko considered arguing with him for the snark, but was too tired. 

“Good question,” he said instead. “See you in the morning,” he added before going into his room. 

Once he did, he all but collapsed onto his bed. Today had been exhausting, and even worse, the swirl of emotions in his chest still hadn’t left. He was still mad at Wakko for not writing more often and not giving more of an explanation, but he figured he’d just have to ask him about that and more details about his trip tomorrow. For now, he’d have to try and get some sleep, despite how impossible it seemed. 

They didn’t have any money. Dot wasn’t going to get the surgery she needed. Things were looking bleak, and not just for them, the whole town- the whole Kingdom. 

Well, at least they weren’t alone in this anymore, Yakko supposed there was some comfort in that. 

Plus, despite everything, Yakko was still happy to see Wakko again, despite how much skinnier, tired, and worn out he appeared. He was confident his return would mean good things for them. 

It had to. 

Yakko didn’t have any other options.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

[httpsaiki]

hi, I saw requests were open and had to send one >//< hope im not bugging you too badly eheh. anyways, may I request a teruhashi x fem!reader fic? maybe on a first date to a shopping district or mall. and reader is semi nervous and has slight doubts about dating someone like teruhashi, in which teruhashi reassures her.

Hi! You most certainly may! I loved this so much, I think Teruhashi is honestly a really great character and this idea was far too cute to pass up. That being said, this is very self-indulgent and I really hope you like it! Teruhashi deserves all the love! If this isnt’t what you wanted, please let me know and I am more than happy to redo it! Thank you for your request!!

----

Reader is female! There are mentions of insecurity of things like self-worth, social status and offhandedly body image, so please don’t read if you are sensitive to that.

WC: 1627

Kokomi and the reader have never had a proper date and today seems like a great day! But, the reader is nervous as Kokomi is just so perfect in her eyes (and everyone else’s). She of course picks up on this, and comforts her beloved girlfriend.

—————————————————–

You had been adding the finishing touches to your outfit, getting ready to head out. Were you ready for this, though? A date? With Teruhashi? While you were close enough to her to know a bit more of her true self - you are dating after all - it was always at least a little nervewracking being in public with her. Normally, your dates would be stay at home things, like study dates or a simple dinner, nothing out of the ordinary from before you started dating. You opted for the small things as Teruhashi got constant stares and her fans could be over the top sometimes. It could be very stressful, as you both usually just wanted to relax together. Today, on the other hand, you’d made plans to go out shopping It was finally summer vacation, so why not give it a shot? You two always talked about looking for clothes together and walking around cute shops and sightseeing.

The thing was, Teruhashi looked perfect no matter what she wore. You adore that about her, of course! But it did make getting yourself ready rather stressful. Every time you got dressed to see her, you’d always ask yourself how you’re so lucky. Before you got together, you’d been friends for a good while, and eventually, it evolved into more. You were both happier this way, and you knew she did care deeply for you. Still, you needed to find the perfect outfit for this outing, and the one you were wearing just wouldn’t cut it. This would be what you both classified as your first date, it was a big deal and you felt you needed to look your best.

You really had the best luck, huh? Right as you were about to change, the doorbell rang. Teruhashi was here already! This outfit would have to do. Running over to the door after quickly checking everything over, you opened it to see Teruhashi standing there, a polite smile adorned on her face.

Oh wow. She's stunning. Even more so than usual, she just looked perfect. Feeling your nerves come back even stronger, you tried your best to match her smile, greeting her, to which she excitedly echoed the greeting. It was time to go shopping, and you would just have to see how this works out.

On the way there, you both managed to make small talk. Whether it be talking about each other’s day or small things, like how nice it was that school was out for a bit. Nevertheless, this part was nice. There was little to no public pressure, save for the occasional stare from some random person, but that was something that you’d gotten used to by now. Once closer to the mall, you became quiet. It would be busy today, a lot of people would see you. You still believed your social status was so far from Teruhashi’s, and she would be embarrassed to be seen in public with you. You continued to make your way to the mall, despite being lost in thought. You managed to hide your doubts from Teruhashi for the time being.

The first shop you entered was a clothing shop. Despite it being generic, you and Teruhashi had a great time picking clothes for each other to try, whether they be purposefully horrendous or genuinely good-looking clothing. Both of you walked out with something new, but nothing that you had picked for yourselves, choosing to favour the clothes the other had picked out. It was a wonderful time, and that continued for a few more clothes stores, both of you giggling and smiling the whole time. You’d also visited some book stores, browsing various selections and enjoying each other's company (albeit, a bit quieter now). You held hands as you browsed some novels with Teruhashi, trying to find something you could read together on a future date.

Your worries had been long forgotten until you walked through the doors of the shop you dreaded the most. It was summer, so it only made sense she’d want to visit a shop like this. A swim shop. You hesitated to enter the door, and the change in your personality was almost immediate. You became more reserved, knowing Teruhashi would outshine you here no matter what you did. 

“Y/N?” Teruhashi turned towards you, grabbing your hand, “Is everything alright? You’ve gone quiet…”

Of course, she’d notice, this is Teruhashi, the most wonderfully observant person you know. She’s always worried more about the people around her rather than herself. 

“Sorry,” you apologized, “I’m fine, though.” Well, that wasn’t very convincing. It was hard to lie to her, and the rush of nervousness and doubt didn’t make it any easier. Teruhashi looked at you in the eyes, you’d never seen her so unimpressed. 

“I know you’re lying. Let’s go out to that bench. Please tell me what’s wrong.” She pulled you out of the swim shop, to the bench she’d pointed out earlier. She sat down and looked at you with the most serious expression she could muster. She was genuinely concerned, that much you could sense. It was easy to see in her eyes how much she cared, and you knew there was no way she’d give up on this.

Looks like you had no choice but to tell her, She’s worried about you, and there was no resisting that. Once Teruhashi got her mind set on something, she always saw it through to the end. And you being upset on your first date? She cared about you far too much to watch it any more. She wanted to help you feel better, more than she’s ever wanted to help anyone before.

“Okay. I’ll tell you.” She gave you a reassuring smile, holding one of your hands in both of hers as if to tell you that it’s going to be alright and she would be there to help you through this. With a sigh, you explained your feelings of inferiority, how you knew she could do better, and how you felt you would only ever hold her back. Her smile never wavered. It wasn’t happy, no, it stayed reassuring and supportive, communicating she had listened attentively to all of what you said.

“Y/N..” She trailed off. For once in Teruhashi’s life, she had no idea how to reply. How was she to tell you just how much you mean to her? How she thinks you might very well be the most beautiful girl in the world. You were everything she wanted in a person. Supportive, understanding, caring, and someone who’s able to see her as more than just a pretty face. She leaned in a bit closer, hugging you briefly before deciding on what to say.

“Thank you for telling me. I want you to know that I really don’t see you that way, and even if I know I can’t change how you see yourself, I want you to trust me when I say there is nobody else I want to be with. You’re so perfect for me, and I could never be happier with another girl in my life. I’ve had an amazing time with you, and you are so so much more than you think you are. I know I can’t fix it, but please let me support you and help you feel better for the time being.” 

By the end of her little speech, you both had tears in your eyes. You’d never cried in front of her, but this time you couldn’t help it. She hugged you again as those tears fell, rubbing your back to comfort you until you felt better. 

Once you calmed down, you offered to go back into the swim shop, if Teruhashi didn’t mind. You wanted a second try to have fun with your girlfriend. That’s right. Girlfriend. The word hit you harder than it had before, she picked you and it really wasn’t a joke. You smiled next to her, walking back into the swim shop.

“Hey, Teruhashi-” You were interrupted by her before you could finish. 

“Call me Kokomi.” To that, you just about screamed. Your smile widened greatly (and in her head, Teruhashi had a mini-meltdown and how cute you are).

“Okay. Kokomi, do you want to get matching swimsuits?”

She clapped her hands together, practically jumping in excitement. “I do!”

Hurrying further into the store, you both searched the walls of swimsuits and accessories until you landed on a swimsuit that was just perfect. You showed it to Teruhashi, who thought it was the perfect one too. Buying them, along with some shoes and sunglasses that Teruhashi picked out, you headed out of the store. It was getting late anyway.

You would both say today’s date had been a success. Feeling closer to your girlfriend, and getting the reassurance that you had no idea how badly you needed, you felt a lot better than you had this morning. You would never know how nervous Teruhashi had been this morning, either. Maybe someday she’d be brave enough to tell you how you made her heart stop and managed to make everyone else disappear. You’re really something special to her. You dropped her off at her house, placing a goodbye kiss on her cheek, never having seen her face so red. She promptly did the same, thanking you for such a wonderful day, and telling you how she hopes you two can do something together again soon.

And who knows, maybe you guys would have to go to the beach sometime soon. Those swimsuits need use, right? No matter what you did, as long as it was together, you and Teruhashi would be able to rock this world. With her, you knew you could do anything.

[kiras-sunshine]

Oh, you are the one I want

Written for Carlos Reyes Week day 2: “I’ll always be here for you” + romance

Summary: “but did you really think that if you call me in the middle of the shift sounding all miserable that I’m not going to come and check up on you?” 

Read on ao3

or

Carlos leans against the wall of the police station. It’s a sunny day and the sunlight is bright. The wall feels warm against his palm. He squints a little as he looks at his phone and selects TK’s phone number from his contacts list.

The line rings a couple of times before he picks up.

“Hey,” he says as soon as the line connects, and his voice sounds happy.

Carlos closes his eyes. It is ridiculous how much he misses him, even though he saw him yesterday. Still, just hearing his voice makes his heart flutter.

“Hey,” he eventually whispers.

He hears some rustling on the other end of the phone. He knows he is on a shift too, but he hoped it would be a quiet moment and that he would be able to pick up the phone.

“What’s up?”

He lets out a deep sigh. “I think--,” he starts but he lets his voice trail off. “I cannot make it today,” he eventually says, and a knot forms in his stomach immediately as he says it.

They had made actual plans because both of them had the evening off. A proper date night with a dinner in a restaurant and he had planned to take TK back to the field where they had watched the aurora borealis to star gaze this time because the forecast promised a clear and bright night sky.

He had been looking forward to it all. An actual date is a bit of rarity for them, not that he wouldn’t cherish any moment he gets to spend with him, but it is still a nice change to their hectic lives.

He wants to see him more than anything, but he is ridiculously tired, and nothing has gone as he hoped during his shift. They have been understaffed during his whole shift, and he has been rushing from call to call, and his stressed co-workers keep snapping at him. Every call he gets send on seems to bring the worst out of people, he has already dealt with drunken people, domestic violence case and an attempted robbery.

On top of that, he had been the first one arriving to the scene of a car crash that was the result of reckless driving and speeding, and the woman driving the car had serious injuries, and she had been taken to the hospital immediately, but he isn’t sure if he believes that she can make it out alive. It has been a while since he has seen that much blood.

He feels hopeless and defeated. He wants to see TK and forget everything about his shift, but he knows he cannot magically turn off his thoughts from work when he gets off shift and it will take even longer to shake off the events of the day, especially the car crash, from his mind and TK deserves better than rushed-down dinner with him shutting down and sulking.

“Okay,” TK says. His voice is quiet, but there are no traces of annoyance in his voice. He hears footsteps from the other end of the call, and he is quite sure he is walking to somewhere more quiet.

“I’m sorry,” he says, closing his eyes again.

He feels terrible for cancelling, but he knows, deep down, he cannot just put a brave face on and pretend to him that everything is fine. He would see right through him. It is almost uncanny how well he manages to read him, almost like an open book, and how thoroughly he has managed to learn to know him.  

It is a great feeling, being known and seen by someone he loves, and he cherishes the feeling of it, but it also means TK won’t fall for any facades of being alright. He loves him, maybe more than he can ever say, but he knows that his mind would circle just back to the events of the shift. Nothing kills romance faster than talking about gruesome accident scenes, and he knows he cannot avoid talking about it if they have the date as they planned.

A couple of his previous boyfriends always complained that he brings too much work to home and that he keeps constantly talking about his job. He sort of gets how that can be annoying and too much for people but talking it out is his way of dealing with his emotions.

He knows TK would listen to him, without any complaints, if he talked to him, but there is always a certain threshold of sharing the worst parts of his job with him because he understands it too well. He has seen his fair share of horribleness of life in his own job, and it feels almost unfair to dump the ugliest parts of his job on him, too.

“Don’t be,” he says, softly and reassuringly. “Are you okay?”

His voice is coloured by genuine concern and he knows that he is already caught on that something is bothering him.

“Yeah,” he replies, dragging his hand along his face, “just a rough shift and I need to do overtime.”

It’s not a lie, he convinces himself. It’s a simplified, cut-down version of the reality and thanks to the busy shift, the paperwork pile is a lot longer than he would like.

“You can tell me if you aren’t,” he says, simply.

It still makes his heart feel a thousand times heavier in his chest. He wants to see him, he wants to hug him, and he wants to pour all of the messy and unattractive feelings out of him, but he cannot do that in the middle of his own, or his, shift.

“I’m fine. Just—exhausted and people are being idiotic,” he tells him with an attempted laughter, but it ends up sounding hollow and joyless.

He is tempted to ask him to come over once his shift is over, but it feels a just a bit selfish to cancel all of their plans and still ask him to come over just because he needs him.

“Isn’t that how it usually is?”

His voice is lighter and even though he cannot see him, video chat would have given all of his secrets away immediately, he still knows he is probably sporting a tiny half-smile that tugs in the right corner of his mouth.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “and I will make this up to you.”

TK deserves the world, and he wants to make him happy, but as he leans against the wall, he knows that not burdening him with his issues in the middle of the workday or immediately afterwards, might be the best way to do it.

“Don’t worry about it,” he replies, without missing a beat.

He exhales audibly as he watches people walking in and out of the main doors. He knows he should get back to work.

“I should go,” he says, reluctantly. Merely hearing his voice helps a bit, but he knows he cannot dwell on his thoughts too long if he wants to make through rest of his shift.

“Okay,” he whispers and pauses for a moment. “Carlos?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

His voice is still quiet and gentle, but there is such certainty in it that it almost makes it sound powerful and it still sends the same thrill of happiness and warmth through his heart as it did the first time he heard he say it.

He squeezes his phone a little tighter. “I love you, too,” he says, unwilling to let the moment pass, but he still disconnects the call after a couple of seconds.

*****

Coming back to the dark and empty apartment hasn’t felt this much of a sucker punch into the gut for ages, but he knows it’s his own fault.

He throws the keys to the bowl he keeps on the table next to the door and crashes on the couch. He realises there is something underneath his back and he wiggles to pull it away from there. It feels like fabric and he realises that he holds one of TK’s black and plain AFD t-shirts in his hand, and he contemplates calling him, but he doesn’t know what he would say.

Instead, he keeps staring at the ceiling. He definitely loses track of time and he groans when he hears a knock on his door. He is almost tempted not to open the door because the only person he currently wants to see has a key and almost all of his neighbours know he is a cop and they always come to his door if they spot any sort of unrest anywhere near their building.

Still, he gets up and opens to door, and to his surprise, it’s not any of his neighbours, but his boyfriend.

TK is smiling, affectionately, and he is holding two pizza boxes on his left hand. His hair is sticking up a bit, and it looks like he has showered and dried his hair in a rush and instead of his normal short-sleeved button up and jeans, he is wearing a dark blue hoodie and a pair of sweatpants.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey, I thought we cancelled,” he replies, not very eloquently, but his mind refuses to cooperate because he wanted to see him, but he also didn’t expect to see him, and it feels slightly unreal to see him standing there.

“We did,” he says, and points him with his index finger, “but did you really think that if you call me in the middle of the shift sounding all miserable that I’m not going to come and check up on you?”

Carlos opens his mouth but closes it again, because he is not sure of the answer. He should have known. TK has a big heart, and he is one of the most caring people he has met, and he knows that he loves him, so he should have been able to count one plus one together.

Maybe he had subconsciously been aware of the possibility of this when he called him. Wanting to let him know that he isn’t alright without outright saying it aloud.

“I should have guessed,” he admits, biting down a smile.

“Damn right you should have,” he agrees, and his smile is warm and reassuring, and it reaches his eyes, making the corners of his eyes crinkle.

He hands the pizza boxes to him. The boxes still feel warm and the smell is amazing. He still lets out a surprised laugh when he sees the logo on the top of the box.

“You hate that place,” he points out.

He has never met anyone who would have more opinions about what proper pizza is than TK, and he has listened to his rants about superiority of New York’s pizza and the awfulness of the small place he prefers countless times. He would have thought that TK refuses to go anywhere near that place because had been so appalled by the pizza they once ordered.

He rolls his eyes, but he seems amused. “Yeah, but you love it. There’s enough for two, but if you want to be alone, I will go.”

He just stares at him for a moment. It means a lot to him that he tries to give him space and respect his boundaries by not storming into the apartment with his key, but right now, he feels like space is the absolute last thing he needs.

He reaches to place the pizza boxes on the living room coffee table. He returns to the door and curls his fingers around his wrist and pulls him into a tight hug and closes the door behind him. “I’m glad you’re here.”

TK chuckles a little, but he wraps his arms around him too and keeps stroking the space between his shoulder blades with his hand. He just hugs him a little tighter and burrows his face into his neck and the fabric of his hoodie.

He breathes in his scent, and he smells faintly of fruity soap and his hair smells a bit like coconuts. It’s such a familiar scent that he almost feels like he has just arrived at home.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, still against his hoodie, “I might not be the best company right now, though.”

“Hey, none of that,” he insists, determinedly. He holds him a little tighter. “I already know something is bothering you, and that’s why I’m here. I’m all in. I want to be around it all, the bad days and everything. I want you.”

He is half-convinced his stomach somersaults at his words and his eyes are stinging. He is almost speechless, and he just presses a kiss against his neck.

“I want to share it all with you,” he eventually whispers and reluctantly pulls away from their hug. “I just thought it would be easier for you if I didn’t burden you with it.”

He holds his gaze, and his eyes are gleaming. “Yeah, because I always like to take the easy way out,” he deadpans.

A short laughter escapes his throat, despite everything. It’s public knowledge that TK is a walking trouble magnet, no matter what he does. He attracts trouble and he is stubborn and determined. He loves a challenge and when he decides to do something, there is no stopping him. Opting to take the easy choice doesn’t really suit him.

“You don’t have to compartmentalize your feelings,” he points out, matter-of-factly, but there is still kindness in his voice as he picks up the pizza boxes and carries them to the kitchen.

“I never not wanted to see you,” he says, leaning against the kitchen island as TK takes out plates and cuts pizzas into slices.

It feels important that he knows he didn’t try to push him away, he wanted to protect him, shield him. “I had a crappy day, and I didn’t feel like I was up for any of our plans and pretend that nothing had happened,” he adds, staring at the plates, “and I felt guilty for cancelling, but I would have absolutely ruined the date.”

TK places the pizza cutter down. He gestures between them. “If the roles were reversed, would you have understood?”

“Of course,” he says, without hesitation, and the ridiculousness of his own thoughts is starting to dawn on him.

“Yeah, so I get it. We are first responders, there is no way of predicting what we will see and experience on calls. There is no guarantees that we even make home after a shift is done. It’s no wonder if we don’t always feel like following our plans and pretend to be a couple who don’t have to face death and destruction every day.”

He lets out a deep breath. He walks up to him and loosely wraps his arms around him and rests his head on his shoulder. “You’re right,” he says with a huff, “I knew you’d understand, it’s just—I didn’t want to be a burden.”

“You could never be,” he says, in a tone that is the softest he has ever hear him use, “for someone who reads people as their job, you’re really atrocious at predicting how will I react,” he jokes, but leans into the touch.

“Seems so,” he hums.

It has nothing to do with lack of faith in him, and everything to do with how he has been treated in the past and what he has deemed himself to be worth of.

“It’s a small wonder this doesn’t happen more often,” he muses, as Carlos lets his hand fall away and he sits near him on the kitchen chair. “We should come up with a codeword,” he declares, with a beaming grin, as he sits down, too.

“For cancelling plans?” He asks, as he takes a bite out of his slice of pizza.

“Yes. Just one word that would mean that either one of us has had a horrible day at work, automatically cancelling all potential plans and letting the other know that we might feel less than okay,” he explains, giving him a pointed look, “and no question asked.”

He knows that they can communicate, and that they have gotten better at talking to each other lately, and somehow more often than not they are on the same wavelength and just understand where the other is coming from, but his idea makes sense.

“That’s actually pretty good idea.”

He loves his job and TK loves his, and he knows neither one of them wouldn’t change them for the world, but their jobs can be exhausting, they drain every last drop of energy and it takes a lot to do it everyday basis.

“What should be the word?” He asks, his mouth half-full of pizza.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, looking around himself, “it could be anything. It doesn’t have to make sense to anyone else,” he continues, and his gaze lands on the notepad that lies on the kitchen island next to the pizza boxes.

It has his, or more accurately, their grocery shopping list. He skims it through and looks up to him, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Broccoli?”

“Broccoli?” He echoes, but he ends up nodding. “Works for me.”

“Broccoli it is then,” he declares and picks up a slice of pizza. He glances at it suspiciously before taking a bite out of it. “If you ever need a proof how much I love you, this is it,” he grumbles, pointing at the pizza in his hand.

“Warms my heart, truly,” he says, with a thin smile, and strokes his calf with his foot.

They eat in silence for a moment until TK speaks again. His whole expression softens as he looks at him, but his eyes are grave. “Do you want to talk about it? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I’m here if you do.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out and examines his own hand. He runs his thumb over his right palm. “We were understaffed, everyone was grumpy, and it was a busy day. A call after a call, and majority of them were the sort of scenes that could have been avoided if everyone just stopped and considered how their actions affect other people.”

TK keeps his eyes on him, and he keeps nodding as he listens to his rambling. “The worst part was this car accident. Another patrol car had been chasing them ‘cause they were endangering the traffic with reckless driving. She ended up crashing her car against bridge railing.”

He sighs, half out of frustration and half because he can still see the scene in his mind in such a vivid detail. “I was the first one to arrive and it was—bad. The ambulance was a couple minutes out and there wasn’t much I could do, but I tried to help and talk to her.”

TK slides his hand along the kitchen island and takes his hand into his own. He holds it gently, just letting Carlos’ hand rest on his palm and he has his fingers loosely wrapped around it. It’s a small gesture, but it feels significant and compassionate.

“The ambulance arrived pretty fast, but I felt so helpless and there was so much blood,” he lets his voice trail off as he swallows. “They took her to hospital, and I hope she makes it, but I don’t know. It had been a bad day, but that was the last straw.”

He looks at their joined hands. “I’ve washed my hands so many times, but I feel like I still have her blood on my hands,” he admits in a brittle voice, even though it feels a bit ridiculous as he says it aloud.

TK says nothing of the sort, instead he reaches to kiss his forehead. “I’m sorry, that sounds awful.”

He doesn’t know what to say, so he just nods. Sometimes there are cases that are difficult to leave at work, he knows this, but it never gets easier. It is still feels difficult to shake them off.

“For me, it sounds like you did your best,” TK adds, softly. “And I know you know it, but it’s not your fault. Any of it.”

“Yeah.”

Deep down, he knows it. It’s only logical that he cannot have control over other people’s actions, but it still feels different to hear it from someone else.

“And it’s okay not to feel okay immediately afterwards. It would be a lot more worrisome if you were not affected by your job,” he adds, just as gently as before.

He supposes he has a point. He smiles at him, hoping that even a fraction of the gratefulness and affection he is feeling gets across. “Thank you for being here.”

He reaches to kiss his cheek. He can feel his slight stubble against his cheek as he does so. “I’ll always be here for you.”

Always is an awfully long time, but it fills his heart with happiness to know that they are casually throwing words like that around, that they truly are in it for the long haul.

“Me too, for you.”

TK laughs. “I know, babe. You’ve proved that so many times already,” he strokes the back of his hand. They both glance the slices of uneaten pizza, but he at least has lost any appetite he previously had. “What do you want to do?”

“Sleep,” he replies without any hesitation. His exhaustion is still there, and he feels calmer now, more grounded and that is only intensifying his fatigue. “Or attempt at least.”

It might be that the memories of the crash scene might haunt him or that he feels eventually too restless to lay in bed, but he wants to try at least. And he always sleeps better when TK is there with him.

His smile is warm and bright, like the first beams of a rising sun. “We can do that.”

[thefilmsimps]

The Matrix Resurrections (dir. Lana Wachowski)

-Jere Pilapil-

God bless the Wachowskis. I know this is just a Lana Wachowski joint, but I mean, just, in general. They never give you quite what you expect, even here.

The Matrix Resurrections is the third Matrix sequel, and it spends much of its time sending you off balance (my fiancé wondered out loud multiple times “I’m still trying to figure out if this is a remake or a sequel or a reboot or what”. “All of the above”, it turns out). It starts by remaking the iconic opening of The Matrix and things just get different. That’s kind of this movie in a nutshell, but it’s also a continuation of the themes and world established in the original trilogy. It’s a smaller stakes rescue story, though, ultimately not as concerned with the fate of mankind as with providing a bit more of a satisfactory coda to a couple of the series’ main characters (all my muscles are tensed trying not to spoil things).

And, like every Matrix sequel, I can see how this can be divisive and vehemently disagree with a lot of criticisms I’ve seen so far. Maybe because I’ve recently rewatched all of the movies (except The Animatrix, which I ought to rewatch soon), but I’m unfazed by the meta commentary on reboots and sequels. I’ve seen other reviews accuse this movie of hemming and hawing before getting around to being a proper sequel, but the justification is the movie. It’s baked into the premise and the entire meta nature of the Matrix movies. It has us once again asking “What is The Matrix?” As the original movie’s tagline asked, though this time it’s interested in making us also ask the same questions my fiancé was asking (so, mission accomplished there, Lana). For the first half, it misdirects us in all directions until we wind up in a place that feels familiar but is not.

In some ways The Matrix Resurrections is in conversation with the current generation of sequels to old properties, where the new one continues the first one and everything in between gets ignored. There are times early on where it feels like maybe this movie might be doing that, but eventually it says “fuck you”. The Matrix is a perfect crowd-pleasing blockbuster. It’s weird enough to require a little thought but cool and action-packed enough to enjoy it even if you don’t get it (but it goes to great pains to explain everything to you). The sequels, though, are for the nerds. They’re for people like me who like their sci-fi up its own ass, and this movie bravely chooses to double down on the ideas, probably to a fault.

The bad news, unfortunately, is that the action this time is merely adequate. I do miss the ambition of the action from the original trilogy, but I’d liken the progression here to an innovative band: eventually the fresh thing they brought to the table is absorbed, and they become the elder statesman more dependable for craft than thrills. That’s this movie, where some of the effects that blew minds in 1999 are still here, but they’re hardly noticeable because they’re just part of the modern action lexicon. It’s a wise decision, from a filmmaking perspective for Wachowski to focus on the story and what she’s trying to express here, though it’s still a little disappointing that so much of the action, even the stuff I like, feels truncated.

I read awhile back that the idea for this movie came up as part of Lana Wachowski’s process while grieving her parents. From that prism, a lot of this movie makes a lot more sense, but even when I watched it having forgotten that knowledge, I was thrilled by this movie. It is a return to the original Matrix in the sense that it is a bit of a house of mirrors where what’s “real” isn’t a given. It gave me the feeling that maybe the carpet isn’t being pulled out from under me, but I’m balanced on the carpet, which is mysteriously a half inch above the floor. Like with the other Matrix sequels, I’m excited to jump back into this one because there’s probably stuff I’m forgetting and stuff I didn’t get the first time. My kind of sci-fi.

8.5/10

[s-horne]

11?

“Ouch,” Steve said when he was rudely pulled from his booze-induced slumber. “The sky is very bright. Can you turn it down?”

There was a soft laugh from the direction of the doorway. “Turn down the sky? Not sure even I could do that.”

Steve waved a shaky hand through the air, but that seemed to give him a headache for some stupid reason. He let it fall back onto his mattress with a groan. “You should get on that. Reckon it would be very useful. A lot of people would thank you.”

“Right.” There was a hint of amusement in Tony’s voice that Steve didn’t appreciate. “I’ll put someone on it.”

“Quickly.”

“Yes, Cap’n Rogers. Right away, Sir.”

Steve rolled over to glare at Tony, but it did nothing to deter the huge smile on the man’s face.

“You’re way too cheerful for this time of the morning. Why aren’t you also dying?”

“Because I wasn’t drunk enough to start a fight with a mirror, babe.”

Whoops. Steve felt this cheeks flush and pulled the comforter over his head.

“That was after you’d given us a catwalk, by the way,” Tony continued, voice far too happy. “A proper little show-off when you’ve had a couple, Ice-pop. I’ve never seen you so loose.”

Steve hid his face and waited patiently for death. It didn’t feel as though it was all that far off, in honesty. He was pretty sure he hadn’t felt quite as bad after their last battle. And that was the one where he’d fallen from a 12-storey building and had been strangled by a robotic alien. It had been ugly.

“Well,” Steve started when he found himself still painfully alive, “that’s not so ba–”

“I think that was after you ripped open your shirt to show off your chest. But definitely before the table top dancing.”

That was bad. That was really bad. Steve groaned loudly, changing to a pained whimper when the noise made his head pound.

“You gave us all a good show,” Tony said. “I’m pretty sure we all stopped drinking around 11ish just to watch you.”

Forgetting about his head, Steve groaned again. “They’re gonna have a field day when I see them. If I ever see them.”

Tony chuckled. “Quite possibly. There were no phones, though. Rule number one of Team Night. And birthday parties.”

Small mercies. Steve reached a hand out from under his mountain of sheets and shot Tony a thumbs up.

“How’s the head?”

Steve emerged from the comforter. The answer to that seemed obvious. “So, I might have been a little drunk last night.”

Tony spluttered. “Only a little? You tried to hit on me.”

Steve scoffed. “Well, that wasn’t the booze’s fault.” As soon as the words had left his mouth, Steve froze.

Tony did the same, hand halting in mid-gesticulation and eyes widening. “It wasn’t?”

Well. That wasn’t what Steve had meant to say. In his defence, weak as it was, he’d never had a hangover before and he wasn’t used to the dryness in his mouth and the pounding head. He had super-human healing powers, which obviously hadn’t kicked back in after Tony’s tablets.

It had been quite the birthday present. Tony had managed to create a way to temporarily allow for alcohol to both enter and stay in Steve’s bloodstream. Though they’d been a little worried about the threat of the formula falling into the wrong hands, the promise of Thor’s mead and a team drinking night had been too enticing.

“Steve, it wasn’t the booze?”

He was already in; he might as well emerge himself fully. In for a penny, or whatever the saying was. There wasn’t much to lose.

“No,” Steve said honestly, confidently. “No, it wasn’t. I didn’t need to be drunk to hit on you.”

There was a pause. A long pause. Steve would have been worried if he wasn’t so focused on not being sick.

“Well,” Tony said eventually, “you did say a lot of shit last night. We have to get matching uniforms, apparently. Your idea, if you were wondering. Not sure what colour you were thinking, though.”

Steve huffed a laugh as he pushed himself up onto his elbows. “Probably blue. But matching outfits aside,” and Steve needed to speak and get his words out before he threw up, “I might have been drunk, but I meant it. All of it.”

“You weren’t just drunk,” Tony said, gaze darting around the room, “you were drunk for the first time ever.”

“Yeah, no shit. And on Thor’s mead – I mean, what’s in that? How is he still alive?”

Tony snorted. “Demi-God, remember?”

“Right.” Steve had thought the serum would have meant that he could have kept up with Thor just a little, but apparently not. He couldn’t remember feeling so bad after he’d been injected with the serum and all that had put his body through. He wasn’t a fan of hangovers. “But you’re avoiding my question.”

That was what Tony did best, but Steve didn’t want to deal with it in that moment. He wanted to talk, even if the conversation didn’t go the way that he wanted. That was possibly the blessing of being hungover, he mused, being honest and open and a little looser than usual.

Tony narrowed his eyes. “How dare you? But also, I don’t think you asked a question.”

Steve sighed. “The alcohol gave me courage,” Steve said, staring straight ahead at Tony and holding his gaze, “but it didn’t give me any feelings that weren’t already there. What do you think of that?”

Silence. A blissful silence that Steve’s pounding head appreciated. His heart didn’t, though.

“Are you sure?”

The bubble of laughter left Steve before he could control it and Tony’s expression stuttered into one of hurt for a split second.

“No, Tony, I mean – of course I meant it. I’ve always meant it. Sober-me was just always aware of the consequences and the reasons that we shouldn’t. Drunk-me clearly had no such qualms.”

Tony snorted. “Drunk-you had no cares whatsoever. No clothes, either,” he added and Steve blushed.

Sitting up was a difficult task, but Steve made it without incident. Staring at Tony, he gathered all his strength. “I want sober-me to be the same. With my clothes on,” he said to a quirk of Tony’s lips, “but I don’t want to be held back anymore.”

Tony softened, his shoulders falling a little and lines on his face soothing out. “I think you need some more sleep.”

That, Steve couldn’t argue with. He nodded, turning to his side with a wince to grab his full glass of water to drink thirstily. When it was empty, Tony was still stood in the doorway. A beautifully soft look was on his face and Steve’s heart thumped.

Taking a leaf out of his drunk-self’s book, Steve decided to be brave. He lifted the edge of the comforter. Swallowing thickly, he cocked his head, hoping that he’d schooled his expression into something inviting.

Tony looked at him for a beat more and Steve settled back against his pillow, shuffling backwards to make a bit more room.

“I told you it wasn’t the booze.”

“Don’t you dare throw up on me,” Tony muttered as he walked towards the bed. He sat on the edge and looked over at Steve, resting a hand on the comforter.

Steve snorted and struggled his way out of the covers to cover Tony’s hand with his. “Promise. And we can talk after.”

Tony shivered and made a big show of lying down. “Definitely sleep first.” He didn’t fight when Steve moved closer and wrapped his arm around Tony’s chest. “But I am looking forward to that chat.”

Half-asleep, Steve pressed a clumsy kiss to Tony’s shoulder. “Good. Me too.”

(this list)

[the-sympathetic-villain]

You Belong With Me - Chapter 23

AO3 | First | Previous | Next | Masterpost

Description:  Much to his surprise, after being released from prison for a crime he  didn’t commit, Logan has been appointed as a the prince’s new advisor.  

Word Count: 4340

Anxiety, Angst, Minor Injuries, Restraints, Imprisonment, Sleeping Medication, Flirting/Romance (Let me know if I missed anything!)

Author’s note: You guys can have one extra chapter today...as a treat <3

-

    Logan collapsed on Roman's bed and buried his face into the pillows, barely resisting the urge to scream until his voice stopped working. He could feel his breath quickening as he considered the situation, curling into the pile of pillows around him

    What was I thinking?

    He cringed, defeated.

    Well, that was the crux of the issue. Wasn’t it?

     I wasn't thinking.

    He'd let his careful guard down for one night and his world had been upturned. Roman had been kind to him. He'd carefully prepared a outing for Logan and had pulled all the stops to ensure that Logan had enjoyed himself. After Remus had made to feel worthless, Roman made him feel special and that was all it took to pull Logan into playing a dangerous game with the prince's heart.

    Roman had stared at him with those adoring, brown eyes and he'd made him feel like he was the center of the universe. Truly, there should have been no surprise that he'd given in so easily. Roman had confessed his interest in him and all rational thought had gone out the window. His skin had tingled pleasantly and he’d barely been able to register Roman's words past that point. Logically, he knew Roman's concerns were valid and it was essential for him to consider the situation more thoroughly before rushing into any decision. He should have considered the consequences before he'd kissed him, but in that moment, all he'd been able to focus on was Roman's soft-looking lips and the gentle smile face.

   Damn it.

   Logan’s heart raced as his thoughts spiraled. He was on the verge of a full-blown panic, but he forced himself to take deep breathes, counting like Virgil had taught him. The process was slow to stop his escalating his anxiety, but slowly, he managed to calm himself down and distract himself with less distressing thoughts. He lost himself, starting to think back to his first true meeting with the prince.

    He started to think about when Roman had come to release him from his cell.

-

    Logan was staring vacantly at the wall in front of him, forcing himself to stay awake until movement outside of his the metal doors of his cell pulled him from his thoughts. The heavy cuffs pulled at his sore wrists as he turned his head toward the sound. The sound sent a small jolt of adrenaline through his body. He was awake now, listening carefully for the sounds of someone approaching. To his dismay, a moment later, he heard metal brush against metal as the main doors opened and voices echoed in the hallway. He bit his lip, nearly hard enough to draw blood as he clenched his eyes shut.

    Please.

    Not again.

    Logan pleaded with whatever gods may be listening inside his own head to spare him from what was coming as he stood quietly and started to move. He lifted his chains and silently moved to the end of the old, lumpy cot on which he'd been sitting, staying as far out of sight of the cell door as possible.

    It's the middle of the day.

    Fucking leave me alone, you bastard.

    His heart stopped in his chest and he stifled a whimper at the sound of his cell door opening.

    Please, I’ll do anything.

    Turn around and go.

    He pulled his knees in closer, making himself appear smaller as footsteps continued to approach. He felt his breath stop as the figure came into view and he couldn't he but blink in shock. Relief briefly washed over Logan as he realized that at the very least, it wasn't Remus, but his moment of reprieve quickly soured as the figure stared down at him. Submissively, he hung his head, hoping to draw less attention to himself.

    Logan recognized the figure leading them as the prince, who was followed closely two guards at his shoulder. His skin prickled at the thought of being so greatly outnumbered. He dropped his head lower and avoided eye contact, hoping they would simply lose interest. To his relief, Logan vaguely registered the prince's voice as he quietly sent the guards away. But still, he didn't look up, clenching his hands into fists to keep them from shaking.

    Please.

    Just leave me alone.

-

    Looking down at the man before him, Roman’s heart sank. His was covered in layers of grime and dirt and he was clearly distressed by Roman's presence in his cell with him. He exhaled slowly, trying to mellow his own indignation as he looked at condition of the stranger’s face. Despite the thick layers or grime, it was apparent that dark bruises lined the man's face and his face was swollen from lack of proper treatment. Roman sighed. His heart suddenly felt heavy with grief of how this man had suffered for him.

    Roman took a step away from him slowly and slid down to the ground against the wall opposite the man. He desperately hoped this made him seem less threatening. He saw the man's gaze follow him nervously as he sat down but he'd immediately looked back to the ground once he'd noticed Roman watching him.

    “Your name is Logan, right?” Roman spoke softly, trying not to startle him.

    There was no response from the man as he continued to stare at the ground. Roman's heart ached at the slight tremble in the man's frame.

    “Please, I won't hur—”

    “Yes, sir. My name is Logan.”

    Roman stared at him for a moment, taken aback. The response had come a little too quick and strained and it was clear the man feared repercussions for not complying. Roman bit the inside of his lip and continued to speak softly. “Right, well, I do believe I owe you my thanks. I hear that if it weren’t for your brave actions a few days ago, I quite likely would be dead.”

    Logan didn’t move, his body tensed as Roman spoke.

    He kept talking, hoping Logan might relax . “I'm apologize that you been as long as you have, Logan. It's not right that you were held even after you saved me. As soon as everything was explained to me, I tried to give the order for you to be released. Unfortunately, my decision was overruled and I was in no position to bargain on your behalf.”

    Roman almost continued but this time, Logan spoke up. His voice was hoarse and strained.

     “They wanted ensure there was no deception before they released me." Logan muttered flatly. He sounded numb to his own words. "The decision reached me eventually, sir. Fortunately, the news reached me before the executioner did.”

   Roman watched Logan shudder. He sighed. “I am sorry you had to endure any of that unnecessary stress. You should never have been treated like a criminal.”

    Logan glanced up at him for a moment and Roman could see surprise in his eyes. “Logan? May I ask you something?”

     Fear clouded Logan's vision once more and he hung his head. “Of course, your highness.”

    “There is no need for formalities. You may call me Roman.” Roman paused, cautious. “Your life has value, Logan, and I don't want to treat you as any lesser than myself.”

    Logan snorted.

    Roman watched as Logan seemed to realized his mistake. His eyes shot to the ground and he seemed to tense even more than before. Roman sighed, pressing forward. “Why did you do it, Logan?”

    “To what are you referring, sir?” Logan asked, pulling his legs closer. His voice was shaking.

    Roman sighed, speaking softly. “You escaped the dungeons, Logan. You could easily have fled the castle. Why did you save me?”

    “I wouldn’t have made it far.” He sounded defeated. The cuffs around his wrists jingled together as he pulled them to his chest.

    “You moved through the halls completely undetected for hours while the castle were on high alert to find the supplies you needed to craft the cure. To do so while evading capture of my entire guard is a near impossible feat.” Roman paused, watching as Logan sunk back into the wall behind him. “You weren't even caught because of your own mistakes. You were caught because you were out in the open inside my infirmary room. Which was heavily guarded, by the way. Even now, no one's figured out how you got in there without being spotted. It's hard for me to believe that you thought you couldn’t have made it out of the castle.”

    Logan shrugged again, looking down at his feet.

    “You must have wanted something out of this, Logan. What was it?”

    “Truly, I expected nothing in return.” Logan absentmindedly traced his finger in the dirt on the ground. “If anything, I expected to be killed on the spot.”

    “Why then?” Roman pressed. “If you only expected to die, what was the point?”

    Logan's body was shaking but he gave no response.

    “Logan—” Roman pushed.

    “Listen, in every scenario I crafted in my head, I was certain I was going to end up dead. I simply didn't see why you had to die too.” Logan cut him off loudly, his voice cracking. “I simply took the only chance I saw that resulted in one of us surviving.”

    Immediately, Logan seemed to regret his outburst. He retreated closer into himself, curling his arms tight around his legs. He almost seemed like he was bracing himself for Roman’s reaction, but Roman could only stared in stunned silence. After a long minute, he finally spoke softly. “You’re not going to die, Logan.”

    Defeated, Logan held up the shackles binding his hands. “As far as I’m concerned, it's still on the table.”

    Roman's heart sank as Logan's eyes glistened with unshed tears. He leaned forward slightly, smiling encouragingly at Logan. “Logan, I'm going to reach into my pocket and grab the key to your shackles. There's nothing to be afraid of as I do so. Okay?”

    Logan paused and nodded at him suspiciously.

    Roman smiled faintly and reached down to pull a small bronze key out of pocket. He held it up for Logan to see. “If you’re okay with me approaching, I will take those off.”

    Logan looked up at him cautiously, as if trying to gauge the truthfulness of Roman's words.

    “I can also slide the key to you, if that would make you more comfortable.” Roman paused, feeling guilty. “I swear I would have taken them off immediately, but—”

    “But you were afraid I might escape—” Logan swallowed, looking away despondently. “—or that I might hurt you.”

    Roman raised an eyebrow. “No, Logan. You’re clearly shaken and I didn’t want to frighten you by immediately stepping into your space.”

    Logan looked up at the prince, cautiously processing the words. His glance eventually fell on the key in Roman's hand.

    “There's no catch. I tried to have you released days ago.” Roman's smiled encouragingly. “The door's open, Logan. There's nothing keeping you here any longer.”

    Logan raised an eyebrow and leaned forward around the cot next to him to see the door hanging open. Surprised, Logan slowly turned to look back at Roman, suddenly not breaking eye contact.

    “Alright.” Logan held out his wrists. “Please, sir. Take them off.”

    Roman nodded and slowly made his way across the room, careful not to loom over Logan. He gently held underneath Logan's binds, holding them still as he slipped the key into the shackles’ locks. He frowned seeing the bruises around Logan's wrists. The skin looked like it had been rubbed raw the bruises gave way to irritated, red welts.

    “That doesn't look good.” Roman commented as he unlocked the binds on his other wrist.

    Logan pulled his arms back, crossing them and hiding his wrists. Logan looked away. “I suspect I had a mild allergic reaction to the metal. It should abate once they’re off.”

    “I'm so sorry.” Roman looked at him sympathetically. He paused briefly as he unlocked the other cuff, gently setting them off to the side. “Logan, I know you must be anxious to get out of here but—”

    Logan tensed, closing his eyes.

    “—I'd like to ask you to join me for a walk. There is more I would like to discuss with you, if you’ll have me.”

    Logan paused, looking up at him in shock. “That's all you want?”

    “Nothing more. You have my word,” Roman smiled encouragingly at him. “and you can say no, if you like. You’re not a prisoner anymore.” Roman offered Logan a hand up.

    Logan hesitantly took the prince's hand, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. He staggered slightly but the prince caught him.

    “Careful there. Are you okay?” Roman asked.

    “I'm fine. I simply got dizzy.” He pulled away from the prince’s grasp, leaning against the wall. He looked away, guiltily. “I haven't been sleeping well lately.”

    “No, I suppose not.” Roman said, glancing at the uncomfortable looking cot.

    “I'm fine. Can we go, sire?” Logan muttered, avoiding eye contact once again.

    “Of course, but please let me know if you need assistance.” Roman frowned at Logan's return to addressing him formally. With a sad smile, he stepped out of the way and gestured for Logan to lead the way.

-

    A few minutes later, Logan stepped out into the castle courtyard, nearly blinded by the sunlight. He paused, squinting.

    “I’m sorry, Logan. It's been raining for days. I didn’t think it would be so bright.” Roman offered, noticing his discomfort. "We can walk inside, if you would prefer."

    “Please,” Logan’s cheeks burned with shame. “If you'll allow me, I'd prefer the courtyard. I h-haven't felt the sun in days. I only needed a moment to adjust, sir.”

    Roman smiled and nodded and they walked down the path in silence for a while. Logan didn’t mind all that much at first. He hadn't had a chance to stretch his muscles like this in a long time and the warmth of the sun felt good on his skin. Eventually though, he started to notice that his appearance was attracting odd looks. He kept his head down, finding himself walking nearer to the prince in an attempt to avoid the malevolent gazes.

    He knew he shouldn't be surprised. He couldn't imagine how he looked walking next to the pristine and elegantly dressed prince.

    “People are staring.” He observed, trying to appear nonchalant as he glanced nervously up at the prince. He folded his arms over his chest, trying to hide the injuries on his arms.

    Roman didn’t even look up. “Let them stare. I couldn’t care less what they think.”

    Logan exhaled slowly, hesitating to speak. “So, is that what this is about, your highness?”

    “What?” Roman looked over at him, confused.

    “Are you parading me around to prove your not a judgmental ruler? Is this all some ploy for political favor?”

   “What?" Roman looked up from his daze, appearing genuinely confused. “Of course not. What made you think that?”

    "You asked me to accompany you on a walk and you haven’t made a point to say anything to me." Logan hung his head, rubbing at his sore wrists “From what information you've given me, I have to conclude that parading me around the castle was the point of this outing.”

    I’m sorry, Logan. I see what you mean now." Roman glanced around at the crowds passing them by. “But, no. That was not why I asked you here. I simply got lost in my own thoughts and forgot to speak."

    “About what are you thinking, my prince?” Logan prompted nervously. Internally, he cursed his own tongue, but he had to know. The suspense was killing him.

    “To be honest, I wasn't sure what would come of our conversation until I met you.” Roman paused. “But in light of our conversation, I'm certain this is the right decision.”

    “What decision?” Logan looked over at him anxiously. His heart rate picked up as anxiety built up in his chest. He glanced around at the thinning crowd around them. Only now that the prince had made such an ominous statement did it seem like few people were paying him any attention. He tensed, glancing around the courtyard for help.

    “I'd like to offer you a job.”

    “A what?” Logan stopped walking, staring at him incredulously.

    Roman smiled at him, amused. “You didn’t mishear me. I would like you to come work for me.”

    “Why?” Logan managed to spit out in shock.

    “You're clearly intelligent beyond your means. Despite extremely limited resources, you managed to do something no one else was capable of. Not to mention, your intentions seemed to be purely selfless.”

    Logan stared at him dumbfounded. “What if I was lying?”

    “I'd be able to tell. You are clearly not a practiced liar." Roman smirked knowingly at him, gesturing for him to continue following him. “Besides, if you were deviously plotting against me, I doubt you'd try so adamantly to convince me not to trust you.”

    Logan thought for a moment, absentmindedly rubbing his wrists as he continued to follow the prince. “What type of job?”

    “I would like to appoint you as my personal advisor.” Roman smiled.

    Logan was quiet, eyeing him nervously. “You’re not serious.”

    Roman stopped and turned to look at Logan. “Dead serious.”

    “Y-you just met me.” Logan stuttered, staring at him. “Less than a week ago, I was to be executed for your murder.”

    “I think we've established that you did not make an attempt on my life, Logan. If anything, I owe you a debt for choosing to save me, rather than yourself.” Roman shrugged. “What can I say? I have to trust my instincts on such matters.”

    “You're instincts put you in the infirmary for a week—” Logan paused biting his lip as he gauged Roman's reaction. When Roman merely smiled, tension released from his body. He suddenly felt tired. "I have no formal education or training."

    Roman tilted his head in confusion, slowing his own pace. “Honestly, I'm a little surprised you don't have a formal education. You’re impressively well-spoken for someone who's self-taught.” Roman shrugged and continued walking. “Either way, I have no doubt you'll learn quickly.”

    Logan scrambled to catch up. “But—”

    Roman interrupted him, holding a hand up. “You can turn this down, Logan. I want to be clear. If you don't want the job, you can simply say no.”

   “It's not that.” Logan paused, looking at him. “I…I want it, but I can’t help but feel you’re making a mistake.”

    “I think you'll find it to be a good fit, Logan, and if it’s a mistake, that's my problem, not yours.” Roman smiled slyly at him. “I'm not worried though.”

    “When do I start?” Logan asked numbly. This was very much not how he'd expected this conversation to go.

    “The title is effective immediately but you don't have to start right away. You can take a few weeks to recover and then we can gradually work you into the job. I’d start with you accompanying me to meetings and doing some basic planning and research and then we'll just add things as you get comfortable.”

    “Okay.” Shock was starting to settle over Logan. He felt numb.

    Roman continued unaware. “You'll be given quarters in the tower, access to the castle's resources and as for pay I'm thinking starting at about fifty gold pieces.”

    Logan’s jaw dropped. “A month?”

    Roman raised an eyebrow and laughed at him. “Every week, Logan.”

    “What?” Logan stopped, stunned. “Are you sure?”

    “I wouldn’t offer, if I wasn’t sure.” Roman smiled.

    “I can't possibly accept that.” Logan pleaded.

    “That's nearly the base for this position,  and I'm not paying you for less than you’re worth.”

    “I can't…I can't believe this is happening.”

    “It is happening. Trust me.” Roman stopped in front of the tower. “So, that is your final answer? You will accept my offer?”

    Logan considered for a moment and then nodded. “I accept your offer, Prince Roman.”

    “Just Roman, please.” Roman smiled patiently. “Truly, I can't stand the formalities.”

    Logan smiled weakly and nodded.

    “Good, Logan. I'm glad to have you on board, and if that's settled, I do need to get back to my work. I've arranged for a courier to take you around the castle. They’ll take you around to the bathhouse, ensure you get fed and get you fitted for your new work attire. They'll also show you to your new room later tonight.” Roman paused, looking up at him guiltily. “I’d normally show you myself but as you can imagine, everything is in chaos with me being out of commission for over a week. Not to mention the extra security measures that have to be taken as a result of what happened.”

    “After everything else, I believe I can handle this.” Logan paused, his cheeks burning. “I appreciate all your efforts…and this opportunity. Thank you.”

    “You’re very welcome, Logan.” Roman reached out and touched Logan's shoulder. “Let's get you settled, okay?”

    “Okay.” Logan smiled, appreciative of the prince's simple comforting touch.

-

    Laid down in Roman’s bed, Logan contemplated his newfound dilemma. Thoughts bounced around loudly in his head making sleep impossible. He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. Objectively, he knew he shouldn’t even consider getting involved with Roman.  He knew it was guaranteed heartbreak.

    But his lips tasted so—

     Logan shook his head, trying to clear his head. It made no sense. They could never be open about their relationship. Certainly, suitors would continue to court Roman. Eventually, he would have to marry someone else. There was no happy ending for down that path. He knew that.

    But the way he blushed—

    Logan shivered and rolled onto his side. He'd only known Roman for a few weeks. He hadn’t even decided if he trusted him fully. He'd seen Roman lie to Remus. His ability to hide his true feelings had unnerved him before.

    All of this could be an act.

    Logan sighed, rolling onto his back. Somehow, he knew that Roman wasn't lying to him. He wasn’t cruel.

    He wasn’t his brother.

    Logan clenched his fists.

    You don't deserve him.

    Logan's heart ached.  He took a deep breath, trying to keep his darker thoughts at bay. He knew he should take Patton’s poultice soon before he drifted off on his own. He just couldn’t get comfortable. His thoughts had started to pick away at him.

    It's never going to last.

    Logan sat up abruptly, sighing in frustration. He swung his head over the edge of the bed.

    He'll get bored with you.

    Jumping off and walked over to the door, he grabbed the door handle. He hesitated.

    Give up.

    He pulled back from the door, turning around. Anxiously, he paced back and forth across the room.

    This is insanity.

    Finally, he walked over and to the bedside table where Patton’s poultice sat. Opening the container, he slipped two spoons of the poultice in his mouth, recoiling at the taste. An eternity passed in the next minute, but finally, Logan swallowed and sighed nervously.

    Now if anything goes wrong, I'll just pass out.

    He went over to the door, pulling it open slowly. The main room was dark. Roman had closed the curtains and the fire had dimmed to glowing embers. He glanced around for a moment before quietly darting across the room, his bare feet cold on the stone floor.

    Logan found himself standing over Roman, watching quietly as the man slept below him. Logan's own eyes started to droop at the comfortable sight and he almost chuckled out loud. Roman had a beautiful smile even as he snored. He knelt down by the prince's head, yawning. He reached over and pushed the prince’s hair out of his eyes.  Roman's stirred for a second before abruptly pulling back, startled by Logan's dark silhouette.

    “Relax, Roman. It's only me.” Logan whispered, grabbing Roman's hand.

    Logan saw Roman relax slightly, laying his head back down on his pillow. Logan thought he could see Roman smirk at him in the dark. “Lo, what are you doing still awake?”

    Logan yawned and smiled down at him. He looked down to where his fingers interlaced with Roman's. “I was having trouble sleeping.”

    Roman leaned up on his elbow, looking at Logan with concern. “Oh Lo. I'm sorry. Is it what I said?”

    Logan yawned. His cheeks felt warm and Logan was suddenly glad it was dark. “It's related.”

    Roman sat up all the way this time, swinging his legs over the edge of the couch. He still held Logan's hand, resting it in his lap. “Can I do anything to help, Lo?”

    "I—" Logan smiled shyly in the dark. He could just make Roman's face out in the dim lighting. "I don't want to sleep alone, Roman.”

    Roman looked at him quietly for a moment. After a moment, he spoke softly. “Really, Lo?”

    Logan nodded nervously.

    “Okay, then.” Roman smiled faintly in surprise. “I don't think I have it in me to deny your request.”

    "I don't know what this means." Logan clarified nervously. "I haven't thought things through yet."

    "You don't have to." Roman smiled at him patiently. "If in the morning you change your mind, that's fine too."

    Logan smiled, squeezing Roman's hand as he pulled him up off the couch. He led the prince back to his own room, letting Roman's hand drop as he slid onto the bed. He turned around as Roman climbed up behind him.

    Logan reached over and grabbed the collar of Roman's silk pajamas pulling him close underneath the blankets. He could feel Roman’s breath in his hair.

     “You continue to surprise me, Lo.” Roman whispered in Logan's ears.

     “Good.” Logan yawned, cuddling close to Roman’s warm body. His mind was finally quiet as he started to drift off, breathing in rhythm with the rise and fall of Roman’s chest.

    “Good night, love.” Roman ran his fingers through Logan's hair, pushing it out of his eyes.

     Logan shivered, pleasantly.  “Night, Ro.”

-

General Taglist:

@somehow-i-got-an-account @justanotherhumanstuff

You Belong With Me Taglist:

@cas-is-a-hunter @insert-cool-blogname @ironwoman359 @i-know-im-smart @imbadatnames8d @croftersphoenix @optimistic-violinist @chronicallynervouschild @croftersjam15 @actitus-hypoleucos @unbefuckinglieveable @justthatamount @eeveeeclair246 @taxicabinmemphis @dwbh888

[kellanswritingblog]

The final day of @tmafantasyweek!  Today I went with the prompt Legend and combined it with the Tower prompt from earlier in the week.

I want to give a big thank you to the organizers of this event and to everyone who participated, it is so cool to see what everyone has come up with!

Basira heard tales of an incredible treasure at the top of the tower, but none before her proved strong or brave enough to survive the climb.  In the end, she finds neither gold nor gems, but instead a woman named Melanie, and they attempt to find a path to freedom together.

CW: heights, vertigo, isolation, cave-ins

Basira pushed through the rotting wooden door and stepped inside.  She knew her trials had just begun.

The journey to the tower was difficult enough, leading through treacherous woods, across stormy waters, and atop mountainous peaks.  Now, she had finally arrived, ready to claim the treasure that awaited whoever proved strong enough to reach the top.

She expected levels of monsters and constructs meant to stop anyone from climbing it, but instead she found nothingness.  No stairs, no floors, no enemies.  Only a rickety wooden ladder on the far side of the rounded wall that led upwards into clouds and fog.

The only sign that anyone else had ever attempted the climb was in the remains that scattered the ground.  Other treasure hunters, but they had lacked the finesse to scale into the heavens.

Basira removed her plate armor and set it near the door along with her other supplies, save for an extra length of rope and a few pitons, just in case.  She didn’t need any extra weight pulling her down.

And then she began the climb.

The ladder creaked with every step, and the rope holding it together threatened to fray with the slightest wrong touch, but Basira continued to ascend, begging herself not to look down.  Looking up was little better, as the top of the tower was still so, so far away, hidden in mist.  Instead, she focused on the rungs in front of her, one after another.

Eventually, the ladder ended, and Basira thought for a brief moment that she’d arrived, that she’d made it to the top when so many others had failed.  She panted with exertion and hauled herself up over the edge, only to find a small outcropping, just large enough for her to rest upon, and still so much more distance to go.

She drank a bit of water from her canteen and regained her breath.  Once she felt she was ready to carry on, she looked up to plan her next moves, but there was no ladder.

From there, the only way up was to climb upon the stones themselves, to choose those that jutted out far enough from the rest to gain some purchase.  Basira tied her rope around her middle, making an impromptu harness, then attached it to a piton that she hammered into the wall by the outcropping.  That way, hopefully she wouldn’t fall all the way down if the rock gave out; but she still had no idea just how far up she had yet to climb.

And then she began, carefully testing her weight on each protruding stone before using it to pull herself up and up and up.  With the ladder, she could focus on the rung in front of her, but now she had to look up and down and all around in order to find the next safest step, which mean there was no avoiding just how much space there was between her and the ground below.  

She couldn’t focus on that.  She could only focus on the fabled treasure at the top.

After what felt like eons, a ceiling appeared above, and Basira knew she was almost there.  She had to be.  But her rope harness tugged at her as the length ran out.  If she wanted to reach the trapdoor up there, she would have to untie her safety line.

She perched carefully on the stones, and let the rope fall.  Without anything to catch her, she continued the climb.

The trapdoor was almost in her grasp, but her handhold crumbled beneath her grip and she very nearly began to plummet downwards.  She would not give up so easily.

With her last purchase on the wall, Basira pushed herself upwards and barely grabbed a hold of the ring on the trapdoor, saving herself from the descent. As the door fell open under her weight, a pristine wooden ladder folded out from the edge and gave her easy access to the top of the tower.

The legends said there would be jewels, gold, treasures beyond imagining. Instead, Basira found a relatively empty room.  It looked like a bedroom.

“Somebody actually made it?”

Basira had only just pulled herself into this room and pulled the trapdoor up to seal it; she didn’t want to trip and fall down there after all the work she’d done to reach the top.  Now, she turned to look at the voice that had spoken.

She was a small, wiry woman, with suspicion in her eyes and what looked like a knife in her hand.  

“Yeah, somebody did,” Basira replied.  She continued to sit on the floor and catch her breath, then shook her arms and legs as her muscles cried out in pain.  “I thought there was supposed to be treasure?”

“Oh?”

“They say there’s treasure up here.  I didn’t expect a person.”

“Right.”  The woman tucked the knife into her belt, and then came to sit on the floor across from Basira.  “I don’t know what to tell you.  I’ve been here as long as I can remember.  I don’t know about any treasure, it’s just me.”

Basira looked over at her, at the gauntness of her features and the paleness of her skin.

“You’ve been here forever?”

She shrugged.  “I don’t remember anything else, just this room.”  She gestured to the space around them.  It contained the basic amenities, but also a makeshift set of dummies along the far wall that had been slashed and pummeled.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”  

“I’m sorry too.  That there’s no treasure for you up here.”

Basira shook her head.  “My name is Basira.”

“Melanie.”

Basira held out her hand for Melanie to shake, and she did so.  

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you need,” Melanie added.  “I assume you’ll plan to climb back down at some point, but until you feel up to it, there’s room here.  And the food just magically appears three times a day, so I figure it’ll provide for you too.”

“Thank you.”  Basira stood, and Melanie followed suit.  “Have you never thought of making the climb down yourself?”

Melanie looked at her hands.  “I’m not strong enough.  I know I’m not.  I can try and keep myself fit up here, stop myself from atrophying, but I can’t make it down on my own.”

“We’ll find a way to get you out of here, I swear.”

She glanced at Basira and narrowed her eyes.  “I gave up on hopeful thinking a long time ago.  But… thanks.”

Basira stretched out her muscles and then collapsed into a chair that Melanie pulled over for her.  As she had suspected, a second plate of food appeared for Basira when it was dinner time.  Not that Basira had any idea what time it was or how long she had been climbing, just that it was long enough that she eagerly devoured the meal.

Melanie was quiet, examining Basira’s every move.  Occasionally she would ask a question about the outside world. She had read about it – at least her prison cell had a decent selection of books – but never experienced it herself, and there was so much she wanted to know.  Basira did her best to sate her curiosity, but didn’t make any more promises about getting her out so that she could experience the world for herself. Given Melanie’s disbelief before, Basira didn’t figure that it would help.

When Basira let out a lengthy yawn, Melanie chuckled.  

“I imagine you’re exhausted,” she remarked.

“I am going to be so sore tomorrow,” Basira laughed.  

“You’re welcome to the bed.  I can sleep on the couch.  Unless you don’t mind sharing.”

“I don’t mind if you don’t.  It’s your bed, after all.”

“Fair enough.”

Melanie offered Basira a spare change of clothes, and then they crawled into bed together.  They each clung to their side of the mattress, terrified of invading too far into the other’s space.  Basira might have made more apologies if she hadn’t been so exhausted, but, in her current state, she couldn’t even remember if she offered Melanie a proper goodnight or if she had fallen asleep without another word.

The next thing she knew, the floor was shaking.

“What’s going on?”  Basira exclaimed as she sat bolt upright, taking in the crumbling walls around them.

“I have no idea!  This has never happened before.”

Basira attempted to race to the window, but a chunk of ceiling fell in and blocked her path.  Instead, she threw herself back into the bed, and pulled Melanie into her arms to protect her from any other debris.  If the tower continued to collapse, it would do little good, but at least neither would die alone.

“I’m sorry…”  Melanie breathed as more of the ceiling clattered down around them.  She held tightly to Basira’s arms.

Basira didn’t have the chance to reply.  In a cloud of dust and smoke, they both had to shut their eyes.  The world shook around them and then, as suddenly as it had started, all was still.

When the coast was clear, they took in the collapse around them, coughing up the dust that got stuck in their lungs, but neither let go of the other. Instead of a locked tower room, they found themselves on the ground, the wonderfully safe and normal ground.  A few stone walls protruded from the landscape, but besides those and the untouched bed beneath the pair, there was no sign of the gigantic tower that had once stood atop the hill.  

“Are you alright?”  Basira asked.

Melanie nodded.  “You?”

“I think so.  That was… strange.”

Only now did Melanie extract herself from Basira’s grasp.  She looked around every which way, mesmerized by the tiny little details of the world that Basira overlooked.  

“I’m… free?”

“Looks like it.”

Melanie turned to Basira.  “I think you reaching the top somehow reset everything.  I don’t know how, but the whole place was magic to begin with, so…”

“Who cares how?  You can leave!  You can do whatever you want!”

“I don’t know what to actually do now that I have the chance.  Will you… will you help me?”

Basira smiled.  “Of course.”

Melanie slowly reached out and took Basira’s hand into her own.  Basira squeezed it gently and met Melanie’s excited and terrified gaze.  

“We’ll figure it out.  You and me.”

“Thank you for rescuing me.  And for everything else.”

Together, hand in hand, they made their way back along the path Basira had once trod alone.  They made slow progress, as Melanie darted around to examine the world she had never been permitted to experience, but Basira didn’t mind.  She couldn’t help but think that the legends were right, and that she had found a treasure atop that tower after all.