#it took me so off guard because the comment about them having feelings and whatnot was pretty quickly moved past like hOLD ON WOAH WOAH WO

[seilon]

thinking about the fact that pv said the weird goo clone things he was torturing trapping ko with were, indeed, just clones of his friends and not the real deal. but then went on to say something about them being cloned to have souls and actual feelings and memories so that they essentially are actual people and he IS killing them in front of ko every time. they’re just not the original two. like am I. am I just remembering that wrong or was that like. severely fucked up

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Hey 👋

I swear I'm addicted to your writing😁 Thank you for the amazing post❤

Can I request a usually calm reader coming home to Hanni and Wil with n bruise on their cheek and/or blue knuckles from n fight. And when they question reader they find out reader defended their relationship.

Or

Them reacting to reader with cigarette burn scars from childhood or self harm scars.

Sorry if it's specific I had a dream about the first one and I'm insecure about my scars😅 Also if it makes you uncomfy ignore me🤣

Have a wonderful day/night/afternoon💕

Hey anon, sorry it took me a hot minute to get to this. Hope you enjoy!

Gender neutral y/n comes home covered in bruises. Their lovers Hannibal and Will need to know why.

trigger warnings: blood, threats of violence, mention of firearms, stalking

You spit a mouthful of blood into the snow before you even thought about turning the doorknob. Any random passerby would look at you and think you were attempting to rob the place. You couldn't say you disagreed, though: your hood was pulled over your head and you held a tire iron in your singular non-bleeding hand.

You knew it wasn't wise to let the old-money Baltimore socialites catch you in such a compromising position, but you had to double-check your mental map of the house one more time. Hannibal would undoubtedly be cooking; hopefully so in his element that he wouldn't notice you slipping by. Will was the one you had to worry about. When it came to you, he'd become as alert as a German shepherd with protective instincts to match. Where he was in the house was anyone's guess, so you needed to be on guard.

You removed your heavy boots and opted to leave them outside. You then tossed the tire iron behind a nearby planter and slowly, quietly turned the knob. The door creaked as it opened, making you cringe. The sight of neither of your partners immediately running up on you was a bit of a relief; you hadn't been discovered quite yet.

You just needed to make it upstairs so you could barricade yourself in the master bathroom and use that oh-so-rare sliver of privacy to cover up your bruises. Then you could climb down the trellis, grab your shoes and make a proper entrance with hello kisses and whatnot.

"[F/N]?" Hannibal called out before you could even breach the threshold.

With no thought on your mind other than "fuck", you turned your head away from the direction you heard him. "Yeah, I'm home."

"I'd rush to give you a kiss, but I'm a little tied up at the moment." He said, undoubtedly grinning to himself as he trussed a chicken with sturdy cooking wire. "So you'll have to come to me."

"Oh, yeah." You called back. "Let me just get cleaned up first."

"If you insist." He said with a dramatic dip in his voice. "But hurry right back. Dinner is almost ready."

Hurdle one was cleared. Now all you had to do was clear the second, much higher hurdle.

You ascended the stairs, but forgot to skip that one consistently creaky step that always alerted the dogs. A small army of dogs came pouring into the upstairs hallway, blocked only by the baby gate Hannibal had installed as a compromise. Enthusiastic barks filled the foyer as you desperately tried to calm them down from the top step.

"Winston! Max! Harley!" You rattled off as many names as you could remember. "Hush, please!"

"[F/N]?" Will said, turning the corner.

You momentarily considered throwing yourself down the stairs. It would be easier to explain the bruises and you could still soak up that sweet, sweet throuple affection without having to tell a story that even you didn't entirely believe. Common sense, however, kept your feet firmly on the ground.

Will appeared in your line of sight. You pulled the brim of your hat down and stuffed your hands into your pockets. "I, uh- forgot how to open the gate again."

The dogs parted in Will's path and he looked at you with suspicion as he effortlessly opened the gate. "Is everything okay?"

You turned your head to the side. "I'm fine. It's just really cold outside."

"I'm sure those wet clothes aren't helping." Will cocked his head. "We can start by throwing that hoodie in the dryer-"

Before you could pull away, he pushed your hood and your hat off in one fluid motion. He knew what was going on.

"I'm no doctor, but I don’t think busted noses and black eyes are side effects of low body temperature." He said, folding his arms.

You put your hand up, unintentionally revealing the bruises on your knuckles. "You learn something new every day."

You tried to scoot past him, but he grabbed your hand and pulled you back.

"[F/N]--" Will said, a blistering fury beginning to percolate in his chest. "Who did this to you?"

"I ran into a bus stop." You lied, not even trying to make it sound believable.

"That bus wouldn't have happened to be headed to Dacula, would it?"

Your silence spoke louder than any excuse you could think of.

Will sighed. "Right. I think I know what happened."

"Will, I-" you protested.

"Save it for dinner." He scolded. "I'm sure Hannibal would love to hear this."

You'd been found out it was much worse than anticipated. You felt like you were on trial, which, given the circumstances, you could have actually been on trial in a real court of law on the charge of aggravated assault. However, that didn’t make you feel any better.

Hannibal demanded an explanation and couldn't wait until dinner. He was willing to let one of his culinary masterpieces burn in the oven, knowing of course that a much rarer delicacy was in the cards once you gave him a name.

He brushed his finger over an open cut under your eye. A light click of his tongue reached your ears as he examined your face.

"Give us a name, love." Hannibal probed, holding your jaw between his fingers and following the trail of bruises down your neck. "Who did this to you?"

"It's not a big deal, really." You assured him, squirming against his grip. "I started it."

"Now that, I find hard to believe." Hannibal contested. "You're not a preemptive strikes kind of person."

"Nor would you go all the way to Dacula to throw a few punches." Will added, approaching you with an ice pack.

"Okay, so maybe I finished it." You corrected.

Hannibal smiled proudly to himself. "That's more like it."

"What exactly did you finish?" Will asked, gently placing the ice against your bruised knuckles.

You sighed. You mentioned Dacula once and they already knew the answer. They were just waiting to hear you say it.

"My ex-boyfriend, Sidney." You leaned back on your one good wrist. "He was a being a completely irredeemable shit, as usual-"

"Details, darling." Hannibal said in too singsongy of a voice than was really appropriate while wrapping your hand in gauze.

"Acting entitled, talking like I belonged to him-"

"You have no idea how little that narrows it down." Will shook his head.

You were compelled to agree, but couldn't bring yourself to admit that and the fact that you ever dated Sidney in the first place. "Right."

"That isn't out of character for him." Hannibal said.

"And certainly not enough to make you willingly drive back out to cousinfuck nowhere to beat him up." Will finished.

"I didn't go out there with the intent to beat him up!" You contested. "He said that if I could meet him for coffee he'd never speak to me again. I know it's a lot of gas money, but I really was gonna hold him to the whole 'never speaking to me again' bit."

"So what happened?" Will asked, growing impatient.

You looked at the ground, embarrassment stopping the words at the tip of your tongue.

"Somehow, he caught a whiff of our... arrangement." You tightened your hands into frustrated fists. "And he made some really shitty comments about... you."

Hannibal and Will exchanged looks. They let the silence linger, urging you to fill it.

"He went into obscene detail about how mmf threesomes are his favorite category of porn," you tried not to gag as you recalled the disgusting details. "And then said if I 'let him watch', he wouldn't tell the local baptist church that I was a whore-"

"The man is a pig." Hannibal said, matter-of-factually.

"I got up to leave." You continued. "Obviously. Then he said he knew where you lived. Announced it to the whole diner. Started to go through his list of semiautomatic weapons. So to make sure he knew I meant business-"

"You threw the first punch." Hannibal finished the thought for you.

You nodded. "Naturally."

Will smiled to the floor and pushed his glasses up his nose. "I would have loved to see that."

"As much as it pains me to say," Hannibal began, resignedly agreeing. "It's only fair that you stand up for us the way we stand up for you. From time to time."

Will brought your bruised knuckles to his lips. "Though we desperately need to teach you how to dodge. Because the next time you come home covered in scratches, someone will pay."

You took both of their hands. "I should get beat up more often."

[cherriesfineline]

Au Pair – Chapter I

It's finally here – I'm sorry this took so long, this past few weeks have been a mess but here it is, our first chapter for the Au Pair series; I kinda hate this, ngl- I always hate first chapters, a lot of introductory info and bla bla but yeah.

In the weird case you happen to enjoy this and want to be added into the taglist (starting next chapter) you can request it here.

Feedback, likes or reblogs are so, so appreciated! I'm very much new to the whole writing world so yeah it'd be really helpful to hear your thoughts about this <3

Love you all, have a wonderful week beauties!

Warnings: none specifically for this chapter – age gap.

WC: 6.6k

Masterlist

Y/N was tired, to say the least.

And it wasn’t the tiredness she used to feel after a long work shift at her previous job -where her boss was an old, grumpy lady with horrible manners- or the exhaustion felt after spending hours crying due to a fight with her mother. No, this was different. It was a tiredness she couldn’t get rid of; a tiredness no lavender smelling bath or hours upon hours of sleep could amend.

She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment her brain shifted in such a drastic way. Y/N could easily recognize and admit her life had never been an exciting one; a memorable one. Ever since she was a little girl it all seemed to fly by; graduations, birthdays, friendships – nothing ever seemed to leave an impact and nothing ever seemed as exciting as everyone else put it to be. She knew she struggled with allowing herself to enjoy things, but this far her life had been pretty average.

Maybe it was the fact that she was 22 years old and never been in a real relationship what skyrocketed her fear of dying alone. Now, she knew it might seem exaggerated – 22 years wasn’t a long life at all, but the pungent emptiness she’d been feeling felt like her inevitable destiny – like that’s how life was supposed to be for her.

England felt different, though. But in all honesty, her emotions hadn’t had switched into completely different ones like she’d expected to happen when she applied for this job as an Au Pair all the way back in February.

With a steaming hot cup of coffee between her cold hands, she sat down next to Coco (a very soft grey Scottish Fold) on the giant couch of her new home, scratching in between his tiny ears earning a low purr in response. Coco had become one of her closest friends so far, along with Anya, a three year old girl with cute blonde locks and a laugh so contagious it made the muscles on your cheeks ache after a long playdate.

Maybe moving away wasn’t the smartest choice. It actually might be one of the stupidest choices she had ever made, actually – moving all the way across the globe when she cried herself to sleep most nights due to her loneliness overcoming her (almost inexistent) self-awareness. Y/N liked to believe she had a wide understanding of her emotions, but it was a blatant lie.

At least she was distracted for most of the day – taking care of two kids and looking after a teenager wasn’t an easy task. It required a lot of mental presence; but by the time she was in bed at night, it all hit back again. She thought maybe this is how life is supposed to be for her, lonely – maybe it was not her brain playing her tricks but her brain making her see how her life truly was.

It’d been two weeks since the Lockehold family picked Y/N up from the airport, and on one side getting physically adjusted to this new life hadn't been as rough as she thought it’d be. She did have it easy, if she had to admit – a big room in a giant, beautiful home and a car to her disposal. Emotionally, on the other side, life was still the same.

She knew the moment she heard heels hitting the cold marble staircase Bella was on her way down with Ivy, the eldest of the three sisters, following close behind, complaining about a hangout she was apparently going to miss because they “are expecting a guest” as Bella announced, meaning neither of her parents could drive her. That’s how Y/N found herself sitting in her (borrowed) blue Jeep Renegade driving Ivy to her friend Lily’s house – who lived in the same rich, over-the-top neighborhood as her guest family, which meant the ride to and back was no longer than twenty minutes. During those minutes together, though, Y/N could physically feel the irritation running through Ivy’s blood because first, she still wasn’t too fond of Y/N because she is 16 and doesn’t need a babysitter -her words, not Y/N’s- and second, Y/N is still not accustomed to driving on the other side of the road.

Technically, Y/N had the weekends off. Living with the same people who employed her gladly didn’t mean working 24/7, but she hoped she could earn a couple of points in her favor if she took her free time to drive her around.

After a short conversation between the two (where Ivy refused to save Y/N’s number in case an emergency came up because she could always call her dad), Y/N dropped her off and drove back to the Lockehold’s. What caught her off guard, was the sight of someone in the driveway at the house next door getting suitcases out of the trunk of a black cab – there hadn’t been any movement in the old Victorian mansion since she’d moved in next door. A man, definitely very tall, dressed in a dark suit is all Y/N could decipher since it was already dark outside and she had to strictly concentrate on not switching to the opposite side of the road out of habit.

Alex was coming down the stairs when Y/N locked the front door – Bella’s husband was a very handsome man for his age, probably anyone could admit it. He was kind of scary sometimes, but was a true sweetheart on the inside; he’s in his mid-40’s and it was clear as day his family meant everything to him, he even treated Y/N like his own daughter, always making sure she’s comfortable and inviting her to most family hangouts – even though Y/N declined pretty often to allow them to have quality time as a family (and because being too socially involved drained her, but they needn’t have to know that)

“You wanna join us for dinner? We have a guest tonight. A family friend.”

“Oh, no, I'm good, you guys enjoy yourselves. I’ll say hello, though.” Y/N replied with a smile; and as before mentioned, even though she had the weekends to herself, they still loved to insist on her joining them for fancy dinners and whatnot. The Lockehold’s loved being hostesses, loved having people around (from what Y/N learned this past two weeks) but she really wanted -and needed- some time for herself after being with them the entire week, and even though she loved hanging out with them, she just wasn’t in the mood tonight.

“You sure? Bella made homemade pasta, from scratch. Her specialty.” Mouthwatering, Y/N thought. Bella was such an amazing cook, and even though she worked hours upon hours every day, she still came to her husband and kids in time to make dinner every night, not missing a single day.

“Sounds delicious, but I think I’ll pass, I’m just really tired.” And before anyone could make another comment, the loud bell ringing through the main floor of the house startled Y/N as it’s louder than ordinary – and sounded kind of old and creepy, in her opinion. By the time the constant thud in her chest lowered to a normal speed, she could recognize Bella’s voice in the foyer, meaning she was the one who received their guest, with a deep voice following after saying 'thank you for having me'.

"He's here!" Alex clasped his hands together, a wide smile appearing in his face. Y/N followed him into the living room where Bella was already chatting animatedly with a man; tall and with broad shoulders (but not excessively; just the right amount) his figure was leaning slightly forward as he listened to Bella rambling about all the 'good things he had missed while he was away'. His hands were clasped on his back and when he lifted his head, he made direct eye contact with Y/N without even having to search for her eyes. His brown curls were perfectly placed on top of his head looking extremely soft, and when he ran his hand through it Y/N couldn’t help but swallow harshly. He undoubtedly looked like someone who belonged in Hollywood next to a young Leo DiCaprio and he was definitely older than Y/N – probably already in his 30's, she guessed, but ageing like the finest wine. He had the softest looking wrinkles in the corners of his eyes – those eyes, forest green; reminded Y/N of what used to be home for her. His intense gaze held a lot of emotion, a lot of thought, unlike his face, that appeared stiff and cold, with a slight crease between his brows. His pink, heart-shaped lips were pressed in a line, a cute mole adorning one side of his chin.

"Harry! It's so good to see you, we've missed you." Alex's excitement forced him to drift his gaze away from Y/N, leaving her like a heated teenager salivating for him. Y/N honestly thought he might had left her speechless and most likely with increasing probabilities to make a fool out of herself if someone needed her to talk, as she was certain she wouldn't be able to formulate any coherent sentences.

Harry. It totally suited him, Y/N repeated his name a couple of times inside her head to check on its pronunciation. Alex reached him and pulled him in a big hug, patting each other's back, and Harry's lips broke into a huge smile making a line of pearly white teeth appear. And dimples. God, he had dimples.

This is how I die, Y/N thought.

"So good to see you, Alex." If sex was a sound, his voice would definitely be it.

"Your skin is glowing, Harry. Italy always does you wonders." Bella gushed. And she was right – his skin had this beautiful golden undertone, but it looked natural and radiant, almost like the sun itself kissed and caressed his skin with the softest touches. Alex snapped Y/N into reality when he turned to face her and grabbed her hand to pull her closer to them, starting a long introduction no one was paying much attention to, explaining how he’d missed her arrival, like he even cared, and how she was the Au Pair they’d all been talking about ever since February. It wasn’t until Alex mentioned something about Y/N and Harry probably seeing each other a lot she was suddenly interested in what was actually going on.

“He owns the school the girl’s attend.” Alex directed towards her. Now, Y/N assumed the moment she laid eyes on him he was probably rich – who wears a suit to a Sunday dinner with friends? Rich people are weird, that’s something we can all agree on; but owning a school which’s monthly fees per kid were worth three of her salaries? That was quite unexpected.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry." Y/N offered him her hand, trying to sound as casual as possible, even if her skin felt like it was burning under his intense gaze and her eyes were definitely betraying her.

"The pleasure’s all mine, Y/N." He shook her hand. His strong hold sent shivers down her spine; the cold rings making a big contrast against the heat his hand radiated and she couldn't help but fantasize about how his touch would feel in some other places.

The sudden embarrassment feeling hot against her cheeks made her turn around impossibly faster, feeling guilty at the dirty thoughts consuming her brain while around her bosses – and in front of him. Making a beeline straight to her room, announcing she was calling it a night, she sent Harry a quick -but quite charming- smile, and couldn’t help but soften at the sound of Anya running down the stairs yelling an excited ‘Harryyyy’ once she was past the kitchen.

She knew she got lucky with her commodities – an entire studio-like apartment past the main kitchen of the house, where the servant’s area used to be located a handful of decades ago; but she cussed in a whisper when she remembered half way through her making of a sandwich (four hours after she’d retreated to her bedroom and because she decided on skipping dinner that night, not having enough energy to cook) that her lazy ass still hadn’t bought mayonnaise. Her small kitchen had enough space to hold her snacks, along with some ingredients to make a few meals, since she only had to worry about food on the weekends. Reluctantly, she took the small plate holding her sandwich and made her way towards the main kitchen. There was no way in hell she’d eat a sandwich with no mayo – never in a million years, too dry to go down her throat.

I guess they won't mind if I grab just enough to put on my sandwich, she thought. The house was quiet, everyone probably already in bed, therefore she almost pissed herself when she found Harry sitting in one of the kitchen stools, looking down at his phone with an annoyed expression adorning his face. Almost as if he could sense someone was in the same room, he looked up to find Y/N standing at the kitchen threshold, his face abandoning any sort of emotion.

"Hey."

"Hi." Y/N walked towards the fridge on the far right of the kitchen, opposite from where she came in. "Sorry, I thought no one was here."

"Don't worry, just waiting for Bella and Alex to come back down to have some tea, they're putting the girls to sleep. Would you like to join us?" He offered. And honestly, she'd love to say yes and just listen to him talk with that deep, melodic voice, but her stomach was really hating her right now.

"I'm good, just grabbing some mayo. Thank you, though." She declined with a small smile.

"Next time." He sounded more demanding than suggesting, which slightly baffled Y/N. "Can I ask where you are from?" He asked respectfully.

"A small town in the Argentine Patagonia." Y/N replied with her back facing him as she busied herself with the mayonnaise container.

"Never been to Argentina. Or anywhere in South America, actually." And when Y/N turned around, sandwich in hand ready to go back to her room, their eyes met across the kitchen and she felt the heat creeping up her neck for the second time that night. Y/N wondered how his gaze was always this intense – she wasn’t a fan of how they’d barely exchanged a few words and somehow she felt so exposed.

"You should. It's beautiful." She almost, almost, choked on her own words and when she looked down at her fuzzy pink socks and back to him to try and calm her growing nerves down, he surprised her when she caught him looking up and down her body – in any other case she definitely would’ve felt creeped out, but there was something about him, the fact that he definitely didn’t do it with the intention of her catching him (she noticed how he shifted uncomfortably on his seat after the exchange) and how he simply added a “I’m sure it is," afterwards, she knew she was fucked right then and there – she wanted him looking at her. Was that something bad?

But then – then she remembered how she was wearing her soft cotton pajamas, and she began wondering if he was just laughing internally at her outfit instead of checking her out like she initially thought. And just like a save from heaven, Bella and Alex appeared in the kitchen discussing who was picking Ivy up from her friend's house. "Hi Y/N, still awake?"

"Yeah, got hungry. Stole a bit of mayo, hope you don't mind." She shyly held the plate up.

"Please, this is your house too." Alex waved her off.

"Thanks. Gonna go back now." Y/N pointed towards the small hallway that led to her room. "Goodnight." Turning her body to walk away, she caught Harry's eyes, again, still staring at her, but decided on simply walking away, breaking eye contact, making that small interaction their last one for the night.

&

The following week consisted of Anya and Y/N playing lots of fun games, trying to get a word out of Charlie and Ivy ignoring her for the most part. Her relationship with each of them was completely different, each trusting her at their own peace, getting used to having a stranger around. Anya seemed the only one openly excited to hang out with Y/N every day, and even though she could tell Charlie didn't exactly mind her presence, she still hadn't talked to her as much as she'd like her to.

"What are you up to, Charlie?" Y/N asked the seven year old as she sat next to her in the big playroom they had on the main floor. Charlie kept her gaze locked on her drawing with a handful of crayons on her right hand as she drew with her left. "You're left handed? That's so cool!" Bella had mentioned some time ago that Charlie had a really hard time letting people in, Y/N knew it'd take some time for her to see her as a friend -like she wanted her to- rather than someone who gets paid to hang out with her, but Bella confessed Charlie was actually really excited to meet Y/N, which felt like a small relief, knowing she actually wanted her there – unlike Ivy. Charlie spoke only when necessary and struggled with making friends but her psych pedagogue said she's just really shy and that ‘once she breaks out of her shell, she's unstoppable’. "I love the birds you drew here." Y/N pointed at some small birds sitting in a tree branch.

"Bluebirds." She murmured.

Getting a single word from her was considered progress, in Y/N’s opinion, but that’s all she got for the entire afternoon – even after constantly sending comments her way while playing with Anya so Charlie wouldn’t feel left out, not a single word came out of her mouth. Anya mentioned Harry at some point while talking about her favorite doll (which Harry had gifted her for her 3rd birthday) and the flash of captivating green eyes almost blinded her internally (she couldn’t deny she’d thought about Harry every once in a while this past week)

And it wasn’t until later that same day, after spending a long while sitting alone in a nearby park, she got the chance to see him again – even if he had scared her (almost) to death, she couldn’t help but feel an annoying flutter in her stomach.

She would like to say she loved her long walks during the most unreasonable times at night, but her reasoning behind her late night needs of distraction didn’t exactly thrill her. It was during the quietest and most peaceful times of the day when her mind seemed to speed faster than ever before; the sleepless nights and brain-wrecking thinking of how alone and empty she actually felt, along with the laziness and reluctance when it came to things that used to make her happy weighed her down like carrying a sack of potatoes on her back.

As she was walking past her neighbor's house (the one where she had seen that man with the suitcases last week) she noticed someone sitting on the large porch. Weird, she thought. She hadn't noticed any movement in the house since that night a week ago, to the point she even considered it being empty again. The silhouette seemed oddly familiar though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

"Y/N." She slightly jumped as she heard them call for her, in a strong and deep accent. Was that...

"Harry?" She asked befuddled. Did he live there? She watched as he stood up from his sitting position on the outdoor couch and walked across his front yard to take a closer look at him stopping at the bottom of the short staircase that leads to the porch. "What are you doing up so late?" And then something clicked in her brain – he was probably the man she saw that night, with his suitcases. It made sense, how he probably got home from vacation the same day he had dinner at the Lockehold's – the same day Bella mentioned something about him being in Italy

"Can't sleep." He simply replied, with a small sigh. He then nodded to the seat behind him, and Y/N could physically feel her brain going a thousand miles per minute. She sat on the far left of the couch as he retook his seat on the right, "what are you doing up so late?" He repeated her question.

And Y/N repeated his answer. "Can't sleep."

So they sat in silence, what felt like hours barely being a few seconds. "Didn't know you lived next door." Y/N took the time to take in his side profile - sharp and long nose, the tip curving slightly downwards when he spoke the next line.

"Never mentioned it." He replied apathetically. The unexpected switch in his tone made her immediately shut up, and even though it confused Y/N as to why he would want her joining him if he didn't want to talk, she was dreading going back to her room alone to drown in her thoughts again. She'd take uncomfortable company over being alone when her head got like this, it helped her get distracted; overthinking this situation instead of the same scenarios that constantly lived in her head.

They again sat in silence for a while, this time for longer than a few minutes, and even though it was slightly uncomfortable, there was an unspoken understanding between them. He just wanted company, and so did she. This time, however, it was him who tried for conversation. "Why did you choose England for your Au Pair program?"

"I was actually convinced I was going to choose France," Y/N shared with a soft tone, "but when I met the girls in one of my interviews I just knew I had to come here. Anya was so excited about meeting me, she thought it was already settled." She ended with a small smile on her lips. The memory of Anya smiling happily at her through the computer screen even when she hadn't had met her yet warming her heart.

It was true, the fact that she’d chosen England because of the girls. She wanted to learn French – she knew her way around the English language pretty well; but the French family whom interviewed her didn’t come close to the Lockehold’s at all – she thought maybe the experience of living in a whole different continent with a wonderful family was better than choosing a place because of the language – the experience was being experienced either way.

"Anya is a very special kid. They all are." Harry declared, the left corner of his mouth turning upwards in a small half smile.

Y/N nodded slowly before asking, "How long have you known them?" She could recall Alex saying he was a family friend – but she had no other information about him besides that.

"A while." The small conversation went for a long while, he shared the real reason as to why he was awake so late, explaining how he has struggled with falling asleep ever since he was young, but besides that comment, he kept his life very private; not sharing much information about himself during their chat, and every time Y/N reciprocated a question, he would either answer vaguely or didn't answer at all, changing the subject with another question. "It's really late" He commented, Y/N’s phone reading 1:08am.

"Yeah, I should probably go to bed." She lifted her head to look at him, who was already searching for her eyes. Y/N cleared her throat when a few moments passed by, again, with no one speaking a word. She wondered what could possibly be going through his head at the time, but he nodded, got up and said, "I'll see you around, Y/N." Her name flowed so nicely out of his lips it made her knees get weak. Locking herself in her bedroom (after entering it by the door at the side of the house – which leaded straight to her room) she laid in bed trying to understand why they’d just hang out in his front porch way past midnight when they clearly didn’t know each other very well – or at all, better said.

&

First day of classes came by in a heartbeat. The first Monday of September Y/N found herself getting up earlier than she was accustomed to, since the girl's sleeping schedule was different during the summer. 6:15am read her alarm when she lazily threw the soft covers off her body. A quick shower and minimal makeup application later, she stood naked next to her bed checking the weather app, as to know how to prepare the girl's clothes.

After putting a soft pink sweater on and a pair of flared jeans, Y/N left the warmth of her room to wake the girls up. Going for Charlie first (since she didn't need any help changing into her uniform and Ivy used her own alarm) she didn't give Y/N any work at all, waking up immediately after softly calling her name once. Picking her uniform from her closet and leaving it for her to change, Y/N left Charlie’s room to walk towards the next door.

"Morning, Anya." She whispered as she brushed some of her hair out of her face. Anya’s little nose scrunched up and a soft whimper left her mouth as she switched positions, now laying on her side, "gotta wake up, love." Y/N shook her arm softly, and she finally opened her eyes, a tired smile creeping up her face as she noticed it was Y/N sitting next to her. Y/N left her to rub the tiredness off her eyes while she picked her clothes (since her daycare was at the same school her older sister's attended -Harry's school, Y/N couldn't help but think- her uniform consisted of only a white t-shirt with the school logo along with any pair of bottoms she chose for the day.

After picking up her cute small rain boots and help her get dressed up, Y/N did a cute hairstyle on her with the small butterfly hair clips she chose, and went back to Charlie's room to do her hair, Anya coming along.

They arrived at their school; a big, period-like brick building with hundreds of students roaming around and a beautiful fountain at the front – which actually made Y/N’s childhood look like a big joke; the school she had attended was located in the middle of the mountains in a remote field.

"I'll be here at two thirty. Good luck, girls, I'll see you later." Ivy walked away sending a 'mhm' her way to let her know she heard her, and Charlie offered a small smile along with a wave and walked away like her sister. Y/N took Anya off her car seat and helped her get out of the car, her tiny backpack sitting on Y/N’s right shoulder as she grabbed the hand Anya offered her.

"Mommy said I have the penguins' classroom!" She said with excitement as they walked through the doors at the right wing of the building.

"That's so cool! I love penguins, let's search for the door which has penguins on it, shall we?" Y/N suggested even though she could clearly see their door at the end of the hallway.

"Yes! This one has elephants," she pointed at the door they were passing, "look, butterflies!"

"Like your hairclips!" Y/N exclaimed, and she giggled nodding her head. "Ah! Look what we found..." Y/N pointed at the next door.

"Penguins!" She skipped towards the door, dragging Y/N along. They entered the big and colorful classroom where they found some kids crying in their parent’s arms, others being as excited as Anya.

"Hi there! Anya, am I correct?" A woman who appeared to be around Y/N’s age came up to them, scrunching down to be on Anya’s eye level. She nodded frantically, excitement dripping from her smile. "My name is Miss Pia, I'm going to be your teacher this year." She introduced herself, Anya gave her an even bigger smile and slyly asked if she could go meet her classmates, to which Miss Pia agreed, asking her to first hang her small backpack in the rack at the back of the room, taking it from my hands and running excitedly to do it.

"You must be Y/N, then?" Miss Pia asked, getting back up to her feet. She was short with blonde curly hair sitting high in a ponytail, rosy cheeks and a cute teacher apron on top of her regular clothes.

"I am." Y/N offered her hand.

"The administration office said we would be having an Au Pair this year, they always give us a heads up with situations like these." She explained, and Y/N nodded as she continued, "we have the parents, nannies or in this case, Au Pairs," they both laughed," stay for the introduction, you can leave afterwards."

"Perfect, I'll sit at the back with the rest of the parents." Y/N ended up staying for about half an hour, smiling at Anya every time she turned to search for her when something exciting seemed to be happening. She won't be needing any adaptation, as Miss Pia said, and she was dismissed right before they had their first trip to the playground outside, taking advantage of the fact that it hadn't started raining yet.

Right when Y/N was walking out of the building, she spotted Harry at the main entrance, reading something on his phone. He was wearing a navy blue suit with a white shirt underneath, and he looked even more handsome in the daylight. She made her way towards him, walking up the marble stairs (marble stairs! In a school?), and when he noticed her, he put his phone away and slowly (and trying to be as discrete as possible – which he failed to, again) looked up and down her body. Something about him giving her his full attention made her insides burn, and she couldn’t help but bit her bottom lip to suppress a smile.

"Hi." She stopped in front of him, taking a moment to look at his eyes; they definitely looked a lot lighter now that there was natural light surrounding them.

"Hi." He repeated, "Dropped the girl's off?" He motioned towards the building with his head.

"Yes, just left Anya’s classroom." She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Miss Pia?" He asked, squinting his eyes.

"Yes. She's nice, looks like she knows what she's doing." Y/N shrugged. She didn't exactly know her enough to have a conversation about her – and she most definitely couldn’t be one to talk, since she herself didn’t know what she was doing half of the time. “How’s the first day back been so far?” He got cut off from his next comment by his phone, and the small crease between his eyebrows grew deeper, which didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N. "I'll leave you to it." She announced, but his eyes found hers again, and it was almost like he was asking for her to not leave him to it, but Y/N didn’t trust her instincts, not with him – not when he made her so nervous her brain couldn’t process things around him, and she was scared of misreading his expressions; he was hard to read. Not like she was expert at reading people but he was frustratingly confusing.

&

They didn't see each other again until a week later on a Tuesday evening – the same day Charlie, Anya and her decided to go for a walk and treat themselves with ice cream from a cute shop across from (what had come to be) her favorite park, Harry and Y/N found each other's eyes across his front garden, just like that night, but this time it was easy for her to recognize him as she could see his face clear and glowing from the sunset shine. His eyes were glued to her until the fence that divided their houses blocked his view, and again, Y/N wondered what could be going through his head.

It wasn’t until after dinner, past her work hours, she decided to leave the house through the door on her room with the sparking curiosity to test if she would run into Harry. Stopping on the sidewalk in front of his house, she noticed he was not sitting outside, and even though that's exactly what she had expected -he was not going to sit there for hours and hours, right?- There still was a small feeling of disappointment that rushed through her, and when she snapped back into reality, it was too late to stop herself as she knocked on his front door.

And Y/N didn’t know where to hide – not like hiding would be less embarrassing but God she did hate herself that moment. The embarrassment running through her veins was painful and made her lightheaded – she knew she had trouble sometimes with not thinking things through, but this was beyond her. He barely knew her. And suddenly his door was wide open.

"Y/N?" Of course she was not lucky enough for him to be asleep and not hearing her knock – life would’ve been too in her favor for that to happen. Of course he was very awake with a half drank cup of tea in his hand and the softest looking pair of grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips. "Are you ok? You look really pale." His voice was calm, probably the softest it'd ever been in her presence. At least he doesn't sound mad, Y/N thought.

Harry wanted to be confused, but he was more curious than anything else. For some reason, he felt very intrigued by Y/N – how she seemed confident but insanely insecure at the same time; it reminded him of himself, if he had to be honest. He just learned how to hide the latter.

"Uh, yeah- um, I was-" she nervously turned around halfway to look behind her and back at him again. He raised his eyebrows in curiosity and Y/N really tried her hardest not to step over her words. "I was about to go for a walk, uh, I was wondering if you'd like to join me?" Stupid. So, so stupid, Y/N thought.

"No, I'm good." He replied, finding oh-so-amusing the way her eyes gave her embarrassment away – he was having fun, watching her like a lost puppy trying to think through her next words.

Her mind was, of course, over speeding. She now felt even more embarrassed. Of course he doesn't want to go for a walk, Y/N conscience spoke to her, it's a Tuesday night and he's probably tired and I'm his friends' Au Pair – he probably thinks I'm this young and annoying girl who has a stupid crush and- "would you like to join me?" He interrupted her self-beating up raising his cup and she noticed the half smile adorning his face, almost like he could tell the wheels in her brain were fast-moving.

"Wouldn't want to interrupt-"

"You're not. I wouldn't have invited you in if you were. C'mon in, now. It's kinda cold out here." He disappeared inside of his house, leaving her on his porch with an open mouth and a blank brain. After closing the door behind her and taking her black vans off, she turned on her left as she guessed that was the way Harry went – and she knew she’d guessed correctly when she stepped into a big open-plan concept living room with a giant kitchen on the far back, Harry standing with his back towards her preparing her tea, "sugar?"

"No, thank you." She sat in one of the stools at the kitchen island as she took the scene in front of her. Her very cute (and much older), very hot neighbor Harry, in sweatpants and a very thin white shirt, a small patch of skin showing on his hip, making her tea. His shoulders were broad and she could see his back muscles moving as he poured steaming hot water into the cup, the little curls on his neck so inviting, if only she could run her hand through his soft looking hair just once-

"There you go. Cardamom." He snapped her out of her (probably inappropriate) thoughts, and she thanked him as she grabbed the cup from where he placed it; he stayed in his position standing in front of her on the other side of the island, with his forearms against the cold marble, sipping on his own mug, thinking about how strange it felt to have someone he wasn’t close with sitting in his kitchen after so long. "Why are you up so late?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"I figured. I couldn't either, looks like we both have a bit of sleeping issues, huh?" He sounded playful, but tired. Y/N knew exactly how it felt, being so tired but not being able to peacefully go to bed and get some needed rest.

"I remember you mentioning it before, I figured I'd check if you were up. Walking helps me relax, thought maybe you'd enjoy it too." OK, that wasn't entirely true but her reasoning to be there was quite similar – to check if he was up so they could, maybe, share a quiet night like that one a few weeks ago. None of them understood why they found such comfort in each other’s company – none of them felt like they needed to try too hard.

At some point during their conversation they moved to the couch, where they laid with a wide gap between their bodies. "Elton John's was definitely an interesting read. Lots of crazy anecdotes, you should read it."

"Probably not as good as Keith's, but I'll give it a go." He let a dimpled smile creep into his face, turning his head to look at her from across the couch and the annoying turn her stomach made obliged her to return it, just as bright as his. Finding out their music taste was quite similar made Y/N’s insides all warm and fuzzy, he showed her his vinyl collection (which was quite large) and ranted about how the modern industry was missing a rock star with some of that unexplainable essence old rock bands have – to which she respond saying maybe that something that makes them special was the fact that they were old bands... added to the fact that even though she was an old music lover, modern pop was her guilty pleasure.

Their third teacups were long forgotten on the modern coffee table by the time he noticed Y/N’s eyes were slowly beginning to close and he, as last time, said, "it's really late." And Y/N only nodded and tiredly got up from her position, with him following close behind.

"Goodnight, Harry. Thank you for having me even though I came unannounced." She shyly said, her actions still making her embarrassed even though it had already been a couple of hours.

"My pleasure. We should- do this again," He coughed into his hand, and uncomfortably continued, "I enjoy your company." That sentence alone made her heart explode with a thousand emotions, because even though they barely knew each other and it clearly pained him to admit he enjoyed having her around, his presence made her calm but anxious in a peculiar mixture of emotions. All she did in return was gift him a big smile, face hot of embarrassment (a nice kind of embarrassment, that feeling when you just want to smile really big and tightly hug whoever is making you feel that way) and slowly pushed herself up on her tiptoes to give him a sweet kiss on the cheek. "Bye." He said lastly, and closed his front door with red cheeks and dimples on display.

- Joey.

[shihalyfie]

Yamato, Adventure’s most dramatically emotional cast member

The “edgy cool bishounen rival” has been such a staple of shounen anime for years that the moment you look at Yamato and his position next to Taichi, it’s easy to go “ah, yep, there it is.” But just like how Taichi’s actually very different from the shounen hero stereotype, Yamato, despite what his first impression and character design might suggest, is in fact the complete opposite!

Actually, I’ll start this off with an interesting story from Yamato’s own voice actor, Kazama Yuuto:

Yeah. When my agent asked me which role I wanted to try out, I thought I couldn’t do a pretty boy character like him, so I was really astonished when I was chosen for the role. Afterwards, when I asked Kakudou-san [the director] about it, he said that he’d decided on me the instant I’d come in... I’d heard that Yamato was a cool character, which I thought was a part of him that didn’t agree with me. So there was that factor in the beginning. But I learned that he was actually quite similar to me, and a surprisingly passionate guy.

I don’t generally have a huge tendency to include voice actor comments in analysis about writing, but I do think it says a lot that even his own voice actor walked in expecting the typical “pretty boy rival” character to the extent that he felt he’d have difficulty doing the role at all, only for the actual nature of Yamato’s character to catch him off guard! Because, yeah, that really is the case: Yamato’s first impression really is very deceptive, and his actual personality is, indeed, full of open passion and emotion in nearly every way.

Yamato in Adventure

...No, really, it really does not take long for it to be very clear that Yamato’s immediately not like the stereotype his character archetype would suggest, considering that even as early as Adventure episode 2, he was depicted as very obviously being open about his opinions, even if that made him quick to criticize.

When you talk about “rival” characters, usually, the reason such characters seem cold and standoffish is that there’s a certain degree of pride to them, or, in other words, they want to keep up a facade of being “cool” and rational and thus aren’t quick to show their emotions. But Yamato isn’t like that at all! From the very beginning, he speaks often, is very open and honest about his thoughts, and doesn’t seem to even really care what others think at all.

The Adventure novels do, in fact, make clear that he was more closed-in prior to arriving in the Digital World, and these bursts of emotion were actually unusual behavior for him at the time -- but it’s not because he’s prideful or anything! Firstly, it wasn’t necessarily that he deliberately cut himself off from others -- rather, he was still willing to engage in some degree of friendly interaction:

It wasn’t because he was lonely. In fact, many of his classmates would greet him with a friendly “Yo!” or “Hi~!” when they came across him and, naturally, Yamato would respond back with a smile.

And, in fact, said novel indicates that there’s a lot going on deeper than him merely suppressing his emotions for the sake of it:

The people around Yamato may have thought that he was a cold, aloof person, but that was only because he didn’t show what he thought to other people. When had he become like that? He hadn’t been like that when he was younger. But after his parents decided to divorce and his mom took Takeru by the hand and left home… Don’t go! Please don’t go! Don’t leave me! The truth was, he had wanted to plead with her and cry — but he couldn’t. Part of it had to do with his father standing by his side. Maybe his mother had secretly wished for Yamato to say that to her. But at that moment, Yamato had thought that he would never show weakness in front of his mom, even if he died from it. It was his own decision to follow his dad. Ever since coming to the Digital World, even Yamato was surprised by how much emotion he expressed. All of the emotion that he’d held back while at home, at school, had come bursting out without pause.

It’s also important to understand the reasons why he blows up so easily at Taichi in Adventure episodes 3 and 6 and whatnot -- he does it because he’s constantly looking out for the others and worried about their welfare. Pretty much all of the arguments he has with Taichi for the majority of the series involve him objecting to his perception of Taichi as insensitive, because Taichi has a tendency to tease others or bid for everyone to keep pushing forward into dangerous situations or when they’re tired. So, really, Yamato gets angered and emotional and picks his fights with Taichi because he cares too much, not because he’s deliberately trying to cultivate an image of being detached. Once they were outside the range of his family and their classmates and stranded in another world, Yamato’s bleeding heart instantly won out, and he started advocating for the welfare of everyone else.

This is why Yamato’s the one who gets the Crest of Friendship, because even though he starts off by putting up a defensive wall between himself and the others and seems very difficult to deal with, even when he gets angry and upset, he’s constantly upset on other people’s behalf. Even from the very beginning of the series, he’s actually one of the most caring people in the cast!

Really, the entire first few introductory episodes with Yamato can be pretty succinctly described as Yamato coping really badly with all those years of emotional suppression and letting it out in some pretty severe outbursts, especially when it comes to Takeru, whom he’d never been able to properly take care of as an older brother due to their parents’ divorce. (And while he’s definitely a little better at managing it, Takeru himself is actually also doing a pretty bad job with that whole emotional suppression and lack of catharsis thing.) Standoffish and cold? Nah -- not when Yamato has the single highest count of openly breaking down and crying out of the whole cast in Adventure.

And, for all it’s worth, remember that stereotypical “cold rival” characters in this kind of shounen series would normally be very ashamed at others seeing them so emotional, but Yamato...doesn’t really seem to care about the others seeing him do some really embarrassingly reckless stuff during his episodes of exploding over Takeru’s welfare. Once it’s past him, he doesn’t really dwell on it and moves on. Again: Yamato isn’t the kind of person who actually cares that much about what other people think of him.

Adventure episode 18 is an often-overlooked episode when it comes to Yamato, but it’s significant because it makes it clear that he doesn’t really have a problem being conversational and friendly with others (especially since, remember, any emotional suppression had more to do with the trauma and sensitive feelings surrounding his parents’ divorce and a desire to not show weakness) -- he starts a very lighthearted, friendly chat with Koushirou over why they’re looking for their Crests, and even admits that the reason he wants his own Crest is that he’s self-conscious about the idea of everyone else changing and improving as people while he gets left behind. That’s a really personal thing to admit, and arguably something very sensitive! It’s something you wouldn’t even blame him for potentially being self-conscious about! But he’s perfectly humble in admitting that this is something he wants to improve in, and carries on this entire conversation in a light-hearted, cheerful manner.

This episode takes place during a time where everything seems to be “safe” (they’re within Piccolomon’s barrier and finally have a proper place to sleep), and are on the verge of finding their own Crests in a situation that does not ostensibly involve running for their lives, so this is when you get to see Yamato in a relaxed situation. And, really, he’s very friendly and open, with no restraint about it. He really isn’t the kind of person to be condescending or cold by nature!

It’s even more incorrect to pin Yamato as someone who tries to act more on rationality (again, like the “cold rival” stereotype would suggest) because, in fact, he’s the kind of person who gets completely carried away by his own caring for others to the extent of irrationality. For instance, in Adventure episode 23 when his conflicting loyalties to Takeru versus wanting to help Jou in his situation get all mixed up, and he tries to buy into PicoDevimon's trick to turn Jou against him as a solution to taking sides before Jou clearly indicates this is the case, and Yamato doesn't hesitate to feel really bad about it. Openly so. Condescension? Nah.

No, really, I could just keep taking screenshots from Adventure all day if you want evidence of “Yamato is openly and passionately emotional to explosive degrees because he cares too much about others, and makes no real pretense of hiding it.” If you’re still not convinced, I don’t know what to tell you.

When Yamato infamously succumbs to Jureimon’s bait in Adventure episode 44 and ends up picking a fight with Taichi -- possibly his most self-centered action in the entire series -- it’s interesting to see that Jureimon does use the word “rival”, the same word used in anime trope lingo to describe “the person you’re constantly fighting with and competing with in order to improve yourself”. The reason why this is fascinating is that Adventure is making a point here that this kind of “stereotypical anime rival” relationship would be extremely unhealthy for these characters.

No, really: at least as far as Yamato’s concerned, and what defines the kind of “friendship” these particular kids need, what these kids need is mutual emotional support, not engineered conflict that can be passed off as “they fight but it’s a sign of how much they know each other!” Remembering that Adventure is, in many ways, a series that prioritizes wanting to focus on portraying the intimate nature of human behavior, it’s not surprising that it goes out of its way to make clear that centering your relationship with a friend around needing to “outdo” them is a really bad thing. (Observe how 02′s Daisuke and Ken also don’t fit the “rivals” archetype at all and are merely a straightforward relationship of best friends in little to no conflict, despite occupying the stereotypical position.)

But Jureimon successfully digs into all of Yamato’s insecurities about his perceived lack of self-improvement and his tendency to compare himself to the polar-opposite Taichi in terms of Taichi’s charisma and way of (ostensibly) playing better to Takeru’s dislike of being coddled. And so, the engineered conflict happens, and, of course, it traumatizes everyone around them. When Yamato finally manages to get over himself after some timely intervention from “the one who seeks stability” (Homeostasis) in Adventure episode 45, everyone in the group is miserable from the ordeal.

Adventure episode 51 basically lays down the two major issues Yamato had been facing up until that point, and ties it into a neat bow: the reason Yamato had become so obsessed with self-improvement was because he wanted to prove he was "independent" and "not weak", but in the end, he still sees himself as an inferior person compared to everyone else -- culminating in him eventually seeing Taichi as a better person than him. Gabumon reaches out to Yamato by clarifying Yamato’s right to not compete, but be unique; it’s not about competing or being a “better” or “worse” version of others, it’s finding his important niche in the group or in the world with the things only he’s good at. Yamato says it in explicit words in Two-and-a-Half Year Break:

Dad doesn’t remember. On the day when we had to decide whether Takeru or I would go with him… Neither Dad or Mom could decide, so I did. I thought, this way, Takeru would be able to stay with Mom. I chose for myself. And after that, I always chose for myself. Or that’s what I’d planned to. Even though I was called a Chosen Child, it was me who was going to choose what to do. No way was I going to be used for other people’s convenience. Maybe that’s why I went so far to keep myself from making friends. But in the end, I acknowledged that what I was doing was unreasonable. After all, I’m not living in this world by myself. If I hadn’t met Gabumon, I never would have realized that. The person I am right now, is not alone.

As long as Yamato only ever sees himself as a replaceable piece meant to fill in the same niches as everyone else, he’ll continue to be horribly critical of himself for not being a perfect person and ultimately being “useless” or “not necessary”. But it’s not about being perfect or a better or worse replacement, it’s about embracing himself and what he can do in his own way, and, indeed, at the end of the episode, Yamato’s arrival on the scene makes it clear that the group ultimately needs both of them, not just one.

It’s also interesting in that, whereas most of the kids (especially in the Adventure finale) are very open about their own feelings to their own partners, Yamato and Gabumon are capable of “communicating” in some sense just by Yamato playing the harmonica. But it’s perhaps because Yamato is normally so open and passionate about his own feelings that such a tacit method is something they can do -- they’ve already bared themselves to each other so many times already, that in the end, all they need to do is just enjoy the abstract things together.

Yamato in 02 and after

So by the time we get to 02, any trace of coldness or detachment from Yamato has completely vanished.

I cannot emphasize this enough: completely vanished. Even in the middle of being a heartthrob for the teenagers in school thanks to his good looks and work with his band, he’s open and lacking in condescension whatsoever, and it’s basically like seeing the openly friendly Yamato from Adventure episode 18 for a whole series. Actually, it already says a lot that he’s in a band, considering it feels like shifting his music activities to a full-on band is there to make a deliberate statement that Yamato is now much better at socializing and working in organized groups now -- it’s a far cry from having to work solo or independently, and it’s significant that “the person who wanted to be able to do everything by himself” is now interested in doing something a bit more cooperative. (And to lend further to the idea he’s sentimental and constantly thinks of others, his band, the TEEN-AGE WOLVES, is all but confirmed to be named in indirect tribute to Gabumon.)

He’s open, conversational, makes a lot of silly faces throughout the series, and basically the only thing he has left that remotely resembles the “pretty boy rival” stereotype is that he’s deep in the aesthetic. But even then, you get the impression that he just does that because he genuinely likes it, not because he’s trying to be “cooler than you” or anything. And it’s easy to see why: Yamato, quite simply, got over himself. He stopped restraining himself all the time in his attempts to become a perfect person, and simply let himself loose to express himself how he wanted, and ultimately became a perfectly sociable and friendly person who’s now even popular at school!

Yamato’s punch on Taichi in 02 episode 10 is often taken as evidence that Taichi and Yamato embody the “rivals who constantly get in fights but are somehow still friends” trope, but this tends to avoid the actual context of the rest of the scene -- in fact, Daisuke himself rightfully points out that if Yamato had done this out of any actual anger or condescension, this would have been a really cruel thing to do to Taichi when he’s already going through so much. But Yamato’s not doing this out of resentment or condescension, he’s doing this for Taichi’s own sake to help him get out of his stupor, and the important part here is that he immediately holds out a hand to him afterwards. Or, in other words, this isn’t something they’re doing out of conflict, but out of communication, and it’s now at the point where Taichi understands Yamato’s intent, and Yamato knows that what he wanted to do would be conveyed to Taichi, without words.

That is why Taichi and Yamato are finally so close now: they understand each other’s feelings. They’re not competing with each other. They’re not resenting each other. They’re sympathetic and forgiving of each other, and they communicate, verbally or otherwise.

It’s followed by a scene in 02 episode 11 that’s also often construed as Taichi and Yamato advocating fighting as part of a healthy friendship, but, again, this omits context: they talk about their fighting in past tense! They’re referring as fighting having been part of the things they had to do to understand each other now, when they clearly aren’t in that kind of conflict anymore. The idea they’re espousing is that Daisuke and Takeru need to let out their feelings and have some catharsis if they want to truly understand each other (which is, indeed, how Taichi and Yamato eventually settled their differences) and hopefully get to a position of mutual understanding, instead of the others forcing them to have peace for the sake of peace and not letting their feelings get out on the table. (And, ultimately, Daisuke spends the rest of the episode thinking about Takeru’s position, and none of the 02 kids ever end up in this bad of a brawl for the rest of the series, yet manage to build a friendship in spite of that -- so, yes, the important part was that they had their feelings out in the open and got catharsis, not fighting in itself.)

Yamato also has an interesting role in the 02 drama CDs, including one entirely devoted to him (Letter). Said drama CD has quite a few things to note:

Gabumon says that Yamato being rather silent and not speaking up about what he’s thinking is unusual behavior for him.

As much as Yamato’s managed to do a better job opening up in general, he’s still suffering from extreme self-worth issues, considering himself as worthless if he’s not able to do anything for a girl in the hospital, even though it’s of course completely reasonable he can’t do much. Despite that, he continues to emotionally fixate on her welfare and basically self-flagellate and do a lot of pretty emotionally occupied things in the process.

Speaking of getting emotionally occupied, as much as he ends up snapping a bit at the people on the beach who keep annoying the hell out of him, he eventually feels so bad for the shaved ice seller that he forces himself to eat it just for him. (Even though it’s freezing.)

Yamato’s a really poetic person. Almost sappily so.

On top of that, Armor Evolution to the Unknown gives us an ever-so-slight glimpse of his dating life with Sora -- which, while he hadn’t been super-flagrant about, he also hadn’t been hiding either (he’s clearly willing to engage in a bit of PDA as per 02 episode 43), and, if the admittedly-kind-of-crack drama CD is to believed, he’s actually very emotionally passionate about his relationship to her, and very dedicated! Beyond just the (very sudden) passionate declaration of love to her in the middle of tap dancing, when Sora is found to have been worrying about him being cold lately, he immediately goes out of his way to try and make things right and prove his love...

Yamato’s initial appearance in Kizuna pretty much defines in a nutshell what his and Taichi’s relationship eventually turned out to be: they’re willing to banter because they’re comfortable with each other, but when it all comes down to it, they appreciate and trust each other deeply. Again, the point is that Yamato and Taichi are emotionally there for each other, considering that (even if he ribs Taichi a bit for it) Yamato’s willing to come all the way down to meet Taichi for late-night beer and talk to him through his emotional troubles.

And, yes, Yamato’s still there to be a concerned minder for Taichi and to make sure he doesn’t get too inconsiderate of what he’s doing -- but there’s no conflict over it, just the two of them balancing their necessary roles as part of the group and keeping each other in check. Again, as was made clear back in Adventure, it’s not about one person being more necessary than the other, it’s them both working together to fulfill their own roles.

As one of the central characters in the movie, Yamato’s also having an existential crisis of adulthood, and in his case, it’s that he’s playing everything too much by ear but isn’t really sure what he wants to commit to. He’s still enjoying music as a hobby, but it’s apparent he doesn’t want to commit to it as a career (which is, well, quite the common thing for those who have hobbies in middle school) -- and moreover, the novel indicates that it’s not bringing him happiness the way it used to. (The movie goes out of its way to depict Yamato feeling isolated with both a harmonica and a band, referencing that neither Adventure nor 02′s ways are doing it for him anymore.)

Beyond the motorcycle we see Yamato driving a few times in the movie, the official website profile makes it clear that this is one of his major new interests, and it’s presumably why he’s also attending an engineering school -- he can’t decide on a long-term goal, so he’ll at least experiment with the thing he likes. Yamato’s always been someone who thinks with emotions and feelings, so it fits him.

We also learn that he’s surprisingly studious, and is picking up some things that run contrary to his image (the glasses!), including the fact he seems to like school enough that he wants to do more school while he figures out what he wants to do. This is something that happens in real life for a certain kind of person in a career-based existential crisis -- as many people as there are who play very badly with educational structures, there are also people who rely very heavily on the structure of college or grad school basically handing you tasks to do on a plate, and find the job market to be scarier than staying within that bubble. It’s not too unreasonable to imagine that Yamato, who in certain ways has never really been the kind of person to assertively have an idea of “this is what I want to do!” and generally works by immediate feelings instead of long-term goals, would end up becoming that kind of person. As he says, it’s really just him trying to postpone the inevitable decision and get a grace period.

Since “shutting out one’s own partner (and therefore one’s own inner self)” is key to the cause of partner dissolution, Yamato’s way of it isn’t as direct as Taichi or Sora (who end up actively shutting out their partners in a bid to become an adult), but is most certainly there -- especially when he’s the one who drops a mocking line about the idea of bringing Gabumon to his school. (It’s not about whether it’s actually doable or not; it’s the fact that he laughs and scoffs at how stupid this is.) The fact he treats friends drifting apart as an “inevitable” thing, and eventually is shown very obviously to be keeping Gabumon out of the phone conversations (in stark contrast to the 02 quartet going out of their way to keep them involved on the other end) ultimately boils down to: neglect. Yamato’s coasting by on everything he likes, but it also means he’s just letting everything happen, instead of consciously pursuing things and passionately following things with gusto, the way he used to.

But we do see Yamato’s single-minded and passionate side come out again -- while Taichi shuts down and ruminates on what to do about his impending loss of Agumon, Yamato’s the one who desperately runs around trying to figure something out, recruiting the 02 quartet into it, losing sleep over it, and eventually having a passionate confrontation with Taichi as the climax approaches. (Note that this, again, is not a real conflict in nearly the same way the two of them would be spitting insults at each other all the way back in Adventure; it’s just the two baring their own feelings, and Yamato quickly accepts Taichi’s answer very easily because he, too, feels the same. Again: they’ve become very good at communicating.)

Yamato does eventually let Gabumon back into his periphery instead of neglecting him so much, and their final scene together in the movie involves them resuming their old method of tacit communication that they’d once shared together, with Yamato playing the harmonica. It’s a sign of Yamato finally embracing those things in the past that used to make him happy rather than cultivating an uncomfortable relationship with it just because he’d kicked it out of his career prospects, and ultimately coming to terms with what he likes and what makes him happy.

And speaking of career prospects...

The question of “why did Yamato become an astronaut?” is one that’s infamously weirded out people all over the globe because of how much it clashes with his image, and how much of a kind of “out-there” thing it is that had virtually no precedent whatsoever in Yamato’s prior hobbies. (Although, if you really think about it, space travel isn’t that huge of a hurdle as it sounds for a world like this where Digital Gates exist to bend space-time; you just send a probe with a Digital Gate link up there...) The original meta reason was, simply, that it was a holdover from one of the original ideas for the third Adventure series, in which they would be investigating forces that were obstructing evolution from space. (The original logical progression was that Adventure would have a threat from the Digital World, 02 a threat from the real world, so the theoretical third series would be space...) When you think about which of the original Tokyo Chosen Children would be the most likely to actively pursue this route, it actually is likely to be Yamato, given that Taichi is more of a person who’s an overall leader and coordinator, whereas Yamato, who’s much more up-front aggressive and openly passionate, would be more likely to want to tackle the situation with his own hands.

Kizuna -- or, more specifically, its novel -- offers another (and not mutually exclusive!) explanation:

While studying at graduate school, Yamato came up with a dream he had for his future. He wanted to study cosmology, and become an astronaut. The way there would not be easy. There was a whole mountain of things he’d have to do to get there. But Yamato had a certain ambition in mind. Someday, he was going to go to space with Gabumon. Whenever he thought of that future, Yamato was willing to do anything to get there.

Remembering that Yamato was at an engineering school (presumably originally from the motorcycles connection), it seems that he eventually “ran into” the career option by chance and happenstance, and thought about it and decided he wanted to follow it for the sake of going with Gabumon. It’s a very “romantic” and sappy kind of “out-there” dream, and, actually, that’s the point -- Yamato is a ridiculous romanticist, the kind of person who waxed about barbecue back in Adventure episode 6, and compared his relationship with Takeru to Hikoboshi and Orihime back in 02 episode 17, and spouted a bunch of poetic words at the sea during Letter. And, remember, he’s always been openly shameless and passionate about everything he’s felt and liked, and has never cared what other people would think.

And in the context of Kizuna, where Yamato was slowly losing touch with himself and his passions and eventually lost Gabumon as a result, it’s a very important sign that everything’s on its way back to healing, and that he’ll be able to achieve that future where they meet again.

[anonymous-tals]

Oops, I wrote a 5 page Mythic Quest fanfic instead of doing my homework...

I was bored so I wrote a story about if Brad helped David pack up for moving apartments.  This is definitely centered around mental illness/mental health whatnot but no specifics of anything are discussed.

TW:  Implication of eating disorders/disordered eating, implication of depression whatnot

Anyways, I hope the story is enjoyable.  I don’t know if it’s any good but I had an enjoyable time writing it.

The Move

 The week was coming to a close and Brad was finishing up his work for the day. Warm sunlight poured through the windows, indicating the sun was setting.

“Hey, Brad!” Brad turned to see David standing in his doorway. “Can’t wait for tomorrow!” Looking around cautiously, Brad stood up and walked over to David.

“Let’s keep this under wraps, ok? I can’t have anyone thinking I’m a nice person.”

“Well, I think you’re a nice person!”

“Shut up. Just keep this on the down-low. I just needed an excuse to get some activity of sorts in.”

“Packing up for a move can be quite exhausting. Make sure to have a good breakfast. Or, even better! I’ll make us breakfast! How do you feel about pancakes?” Brad rolled his eyes before walking back over to his desk.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, David.”

“I’ll take that as a yes on the pancakes.” David walked away, cheerfully while Brad sighed, going back to work.

… 

Ding dong! It was exactly 10:00 a.m. when David heard the doorbell to his apartment sound out. He rushed over to the panel and pressed the speaker button.

“Brad, is that you?”

“Who else would it be?”

“Well, sometimes it’s people trying to convince me to join their religion but I just ignore them-”

“That was a rhetorical question, David. Let me in.”

“Ok. I’m in room 203.”

It was about a minute before David heard a knock on his door. He rushed over and opened it to see Brad, looking exhausted.

“You good, man? You look like you’re going to pass out. It’s only one flight of stairs.”

“I’m fine, David. Now, let’s get started.”

“Wait just one second there, bud!”, David said, rushing off down the narrow hallway. Brad peered down the hallways as sounds of clattering echoed through the apartment. Brad then turned to the rest of the apartment that he could see. It was a mess. A fire hazard, for sure. It looked like a mess that could only accumulate after weeks upon weeks of not cleaning. Suddenly, David rushed back holding two plates. “You almost forgot about breakfast!” Brad stared at the pancakes, not moving. David gestured one of the plates towards him. “Any day now!” Brad reached out and delicately took the plate from David’s hand. “Great! Now, how about we sit over there!” David pointed towards a couch in a small living room area that was quite cluttered. Books and knick-knacks were strewn about haphazardly. “Sorry, it’s not always this messy. I’ve just been trying to sort through things so everything is all over the place.”, David laughed. Brad was still staring down at the pancakes as an awkward silence filled the room. “Ooookay, then. Let’s go!”  

They headed over to the couch and they sat down, placing the plates on a small, magazine-covered coffee table. David carelessly pushed the magazines onto the floor. He started eating while Brad poked at the pancakes with his fork and looked around the room.

“You know, for not having food in your mouth, you’re awfully quiet!”

“Mhmmm.”, Brad said, acknowledging David speaking without giving him anything to work with.

“Well…” David tried to think of something interesting to talk about but he couldn’t. “Anything fun coming up for you?” Brad didn’t respond, now staring intently at the pancakes. “You can eat them, man. They are yours for the devouring!”, David chuckled.

“You know, I’m not hungry. Where’s your kitchen?”

“You sure? I have some other stuff if you want something else.”

“No, I’m good.”

“Ok, um, it’s right down the hall. The second doorway.” Brad stood up without another word and beelined to the kitchen, disappearing out of David’s line of sight. David could hear the sound of scraping followed by thumps and crinkly plastic. “You can just put it in the fridge!” Brad didn’t respond. David sighed before going back to eating his pancakes, Brad returning not long after.

“So, when are we going to get to packing up these boxes?”, said Brad, seemingly more energized than before. He had started bouncing his leg impatiently.

“Well, look who’s eager to help!”

“That’s what I’m here for. And I’m planning on catching a movie later so I want this all to be done sooner rather than later.”

“Oh, really? What movie? I really enjoy comedies. Like this one-” Just then, Brad interrupted him before he could finish his sentence.

“It’s a documentary about cheetahs and their role in the ecosystem.” David nodded.

“Oh… Mhmm, I see. Interesting.” David sat there, unsure of how to continue commenting on that. Despite David’s clear lack of interest, Brad continued.

“It’s really interesting to see the ruthlessness of nature and the wild and how everything plays a part in keeping life evolving and growing and just existing. You know what I mean?” There was a spark in Brad’s eyes that David only saw when Brad got a good deal in a sale. David gave a small nod.

“Oh, for sure… Well, I mean, no, but that’s very interesting.”

“It really is.” Brad didn’t seem to acknowledge David’s lack of knowledge or interest in what he was saying. He was just fully lost in thought. Suddenly, he seemed to come back to reality, as if he was escaping from a trance. “Well, um, anyway, let’s get working.”

“Perfect timing, too! I just finished my pancakes. Let me just take this to the kitchen and we can get this show on the road!” David and Brad both stood up and David headed to the kitchen to put his dish in the sink. It only took him a couple of seconds but by the time he came back, he saw Brad was looking at himself in a small mirror that hung by the door. David paused before brushing it off. “Ok, let’s get this thing started!” Brad spun around, caught off guard. It was as if he’d forgotten that he wasn’t the only one here.

“Right.” Brad seemed a bit out of it, as he’d been not long before. “Where do we start?”

“I guess we can start at different sections.”, said David. You can start over there…”, said David pointing to the corner of the living space. “… and I’ll start over here!”, he said, pointing to a bookshelf next to the TV, not too far from where Brad would be working. “Let me get the boxes!” David rushed down the hall and Brad walked over to the area that he’d be covering. He noticed an odor growing stronger as he approached it. His nose crinkled as he peered around the mess. He suddenly came upon what looked to be a Chinese takeout box.

“I’m starting to wonder if he’s ever cleaned this place.”, Brad said to himself. David reappeared with two boxes.

“Ready to rock and roll?”

“Sure.”, Brad paused. “When’s the last time you cleaned?”

“Oh, very recently. As I said, I’ve just been sorting through things and-”

“Really? Because the amount of mold on this old takeout seems to indicate otherwise.” David walked over to where Brad was standing.

“Oh, uh… I must’ve, um, missed that. I’ll get a garbage bag.”

David cleaned up the rotting food and they both sat down to get to work. Brad started picking up items and placing them in the box. It was silent between the two of them. Brad would’ve spoken but he didn’t know what to say so he kept quiet. He placed things carefully in the box, using the space as efficiently as possible. He fit one last item in the box before turning to David.

“Hey, where’s the tape?” Suddenly, a puzzled expression grew on Brad’s face. David’s box was empty. He just sat there, tapping his finger on the side of the box. “David?” Suddenly, David jolted his head up.

“Huh, oh, uhh…” David picked up an item, pretending that he had been being productive the whole time. “The tape?”

“Yes, David. The tape.”

“It should be on the coffee table.” Brad scooted over to the coffee table and shuffled the items around before turning to David.

“I don’t see it.” David was quiet. His face looked tired yet he hadn’t even done anything yet. Brad sighed and moved closer to David. “You ok?” David looked at the ground and fidgeted with a coaster that had somehow made its way onto the floor.

“I’ve been trying to pack for weeks now but I just keep putting it off and putting it off. I’ve just been so tired and I can’t do anything but I’ve been trying. I want to do it but I can’t! I’ve barely had the motivation to clean, as you can see. Once I get home, I just am so drained. The thing is, I don’t even do anything at work! I just stand around. I’m useless.” David spoke quickly and his speech got shakier and shakier as he spoke. “I thought having a friend here would help me but I just can’t do it. I can’t do anything right.”, David said, flopping over and burying his head in his lap.

Brad sat there, watching his boss break down in front of him. He’d seen David have panic attacks before but nothing ever like this. Nothing this depressing. In an attempt to comfort him, Brad patted him on the back.

“Hey, man, you aren’t useless!” Brad paused. “I understand how you feel, though.”

“You do?”, David sniffled, poking his head up.

“Yes…and that’s as far as I’m going to go into it.”, Brad said quickly. They sat in silence for a moment, David sitting back up. His eyes were glazed over.

“You can just leave if you want, Brad. I wanted this to be fun but I ruined this whole thing.”

“I never expect anything I do with you to be fun so you didn’t let down my expectations.” Brad started to regret making that kind of joke but David seemed to find it funny, a small smile forming on his face. “I’d be happy to stay and help.”

“Really?”, said David.

“Really. Now, I’m going to go look for the tape and I’ll be right back.  You just relax and I’ll work on packing your stuff up.” David nodded before looking back to the box.

Brad searched around, eventually finding the tape in a drawer and grabbing another box on the way back to the living area. As he entered the room, he saw David still staring at his box except, now, there was an item in there: a book.

“Hey! Look at you go!”, Brad said, reaching out his hand for a high five. David weakly tapped his hand before going back to staring at his box. Brad walked over to his side of the room and started packing stuff up.

… 

Brad placed tape down on the last box before sitting back and sighing. He looked at the clock on the wall of David’s bedroom. 11:49 p.m. He stood himself up, placing his hand on the dresser next to him to steady himself. Yawning, he entered the living room to find David lying on the couch.

“I did it! Your stuff is all packed and ready to go.”

“Thanks, man. I owe you. Really. I can’t begin to describe how much this means to me.” Brad gave a tired smile. They were quiet for a moment. “You want anything? It’s good!”, said David, raising his plate of chicken, rice and mixed vegetables. Brad shook his head.

“No, I’m good.” David looked at him puzzled.

“Have you eaten anything today?”

“I’m just not that hungry. I’m not a very hungry person, David.”

“Yah… I know.” David looked at him, a mixture of confusion and concern was expressed on his face. Silence filled the room again.

“Well, I think I better head home.”

“Home?”, said David, turning fully towards Brad. “What about your movie?”

“Oh, it played hours ago. Sometime around 6. I thought we-… I’d be done by then.”

“What?! Why didn’t you go?”

“I don’t know. You needed help moving! … Shut up.”

“I’m sorry, Brad. If I had helped, you probably wouldn’t have missed your movie.” David flopped down onto his back. “I’m just a waste of people’s time, aren’t I?”

“Jeez, man. Calm down.”, Brad said, sitting down next to him. “You know how I am. If I wanted to leave, I would’ve left. I was happy to help, ok?”

“You sure?”, David said, propping himself up and meeting Brad’s eyes.

“Yes. I’m sure.” David smiled.

“You know, Brad, deep down, you are a nice person.”

“Don’t you dare repeat those words to anyone or else I will not hesitate to destroy you.”

“Got it.” Brad then stood up.

“Well, I’m going to go so…”

“Ah, yah. Goodbye, Brad!”

Brad walked over to and opened the door when David spoke.

“Hey, promise me you’ll eat something when you get home, ok?”, David said, with a smile.

“Sure… I promise.”, said Brad, giving a weak smile before it fell to a tired expression. “Bye.” 

The door closed and David let himself fall back down onto the couch. He looked around at all the boxes. His apartment was barren except for the furniture. Guilt from not helping still lingered but his appreciation and gratefulness topped whatever guilt was left. David thought about getting up and going to his bed but he was too tired. He reached for the remote and put on a random channel and lay his head down. Today was the last day in his apartment. The last month or so had been rough but David was just glad that the last real memory that he’d made here was not entirely horrible. As he thought, David slowly closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 20: Second Assist

Characters: Captain Logan “Sy” Syverson, Shane Benton (OFC), various other original supporting/secondary characters

Summary: Shane reunites with friends and family, hashes out some feelings, and gets real with Sy. Can their relationship survive her trauma? And the threat that still looms above them?

Romance and Smut Abound HERE!

Word Count: 4500

Warnings: Mention of rape, alcoholic beverages, violent imagery…feels out the butt.

Author’s Note: You guys are so splendid and beautiful! I can’t thank you enough for your support and encouragement to finish this piece. First, welcome to new readers! I know poor Henry’s injury and subsequent physiotherapy has driven some of you here, and while I’m sorry for him, I’m glad I can consider myself something of a pioneer in this particular genre and provide you some help for your newfound thirst. To my OG readers, it is to you I owe this entire work, parts written and incomplete, and I hope an eventual book deal. I mean to mention you in my acknowledgements, should this ever reach a willing publisher. You’ve inspired me so supremely that I cannot quantify it, even with the words I hold so dear.

Since my last chapter was posted, we’ve said a relieved goodbye to 2020 and a tentative hello to 2021. To be honest, this year has started out worse than last year. Lots of bad weather in my area this winter, my sister is currently on her way to a new life in another state, and my grandmother, the last grandparent I had, passed away in February. Those last two things have been especially difficult to shake off and recover from, both coming to fruition pretty suddenly. Amongst all that, I’ve been pretty distracted by my other fandoms, especially Marvel, and I’ve been reading a killer book series that I’m utterly in love with. (The Throne of Glass novels by Sarah J. Maas. 10/10 recommend.) But I knew I needed to get back into Shane and Sy’s story, especially given the new and rekindled interest in the subject matter. In all honesty, I’ve had most of it written for months. It’s just been a matter of finishing it off to set up the rest of the story.

I really hope you all enjoy Chapter 20, Second Assist, and would love your feedback and notes. You are all so important to this story, and your notes, reblogs, and comments are cherished. Thank you so much for reading! Love from Hannah!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism. This is an original work by me, Hannah. Please reblog if you wish to share. Please do not repost either in whole or part, as the work of anyone but myself. Thanks so much for reading!

Tags:

@onlyhenrys @cavillryarchive​ @summersong69​ @titty-teetee​ @bloodyinspiredfuck​ @agniavateira@oddsnendsfanfics​ @omgkatinka​ @thisismysecretthirstblog @speakerforthedead0​ @tumblnewby  @suavechops​ @radkesgirl83​ @wheretheriversrunintothesea​ @heartfelt-pen​ @auds24  @geekycanuck @lunarstarknight​ @wilma-g  @coldmuffinbanditshoe @feralrunaway​  @sugarpenchant​ @bichibibi @mzchievous-blog @shesakillerkween @madbadidc7ed @foodieforthoughts @toomanyfandomsshreya @oqueequesentes-borboletas @kebabgirl67 @indigosaurus (some of you new readers didn’t ask, but I took the liberty. If you want me to remove you, I totally will without hard feelings.)

If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Shane woke in her warm bed, late morning sun streaming in through her sheer curtains, the heavier drapes parted to let in the light. She wished she'd remembered to close them before now. She really was not ready to be awake.

She was sore. Achy. Her sleep had been fitful and full of shadowy nightmares and muffled screams. Beyond that, she didn't try to remember images or events. She knew the general premise of the dreams. It would take a lot of time, effort, or a miracle to make her forget those traumas she'd been through in the last week. Not even forget. She knew she never would. But move on from them. Accept them. And heal from them…even that seemed a mighty obstacle. One she was not sure she could surmount.

Through the open bedroom door, she could hear Lynyrd Skynyrd and the clanging and sizzling of pans, and she could smell bacon and freshly brewed coffee. Sy had left the room, but had not, it seemed, gone far. She gingerly sat up, stood from the bed, and donned her robe as she walked out into the hall and down the corridor to the kitchen.

The sight before her warmed her heart. There was Sy. In only his boxers, daringly frying the notoriously dangerous breakfast meat. Upon her entry to the kitchen, she could also smell pancakes, and she thought syrup, as well. He seemed to be warming a bottle of the maple unction in a pot of hot water. He turned as she stepped on a squeaky floorboard, and grinned widely at her.

"Mornin' sunshine." And she was struck by the irony of someone with such a radiant smile calling her sunshine. Especially when she didn't feel much like beaming. But she couldn't help return the expression, even through her pain.

"Mornin' bear. Did you go to the store?" She knew she couldn't have any bacon in her fridge, and she doubted her eggs and milk were still good at this point. But she also couldn't think that he would leave her for any reason.

"Nah, some of the guys brought over some provisions. Matt worked on your car all night, too, and filled up the tank. It's as good as new. He and Nate brought ‘er over as well as the groceries. I just had ‘em get stuff I knew your family wouldn't be bringing later. They've had tons of food given to them this week, and they're ready to share. You should have seen your mom loading me down with sandwiches and chips and whatnot when I visited them."

"I still can't believe you met them. I really wanted to introduce you personally." Shane's face fell. She would never be able to get that back. She wanted to cry. Sy had poured her a cup of coffee and sat it in front of her with her favorite creamer.

"Darlin' I’m so sorry. I had to talk to them."

"I know." she sniffed. "I'm not mad. Not at you. Just…"she didn't want to say Elliott's name. "I'm disappointed that the experience was stolen from me." That so many things had been stolen from her. By that monster. There was no other way to describe him. Sy growled. As if he could read her mind. He really just knew her well enough and shared her thoughts.

"Well, don't worry, we'll have a nice dinner with them one of these days, and we can pretend. Sound good?"

"Yeah, and I can feign nervousness." she laughed.

"And I'll pretend too. That I'm scared to meet your dad." he chuckled. "What if he threatens me with his shotgun?"

"I'll pull the ol' 'Daddy, no, I loooooove him!' line, as I throw myself between you!"

"That oughta work." he laughed and kissed her on the forehead as he stepped toward the stove and flipped a pancake.

As they sat eating their late breakfast, Shane's mind wandered. Nothing had changed on the surface, but everything was different now. This cozily mundane breakfast with her boyfriend felt like an out of body experience. As delicious as it was, as wonderful and comforting as it should feel, her guard was up. Even through her amiable façade. She was not the person she was two weeks ago. She was not the same woman who said goodbye to Sy at the base. Maybe that was the real transformation. Maybe that was why nothing felt normal. It wasn't the world, but her own self coming back into it.

"Shane?" Sy asked, gently, but it felt like he was speaking through a megaphone directly into her ear. She was so startled, she nearly dropped the half full mug of coffee that was paused midway to her lips. A bit sloshed out onto the table and splashed her shirt.

"Shit!" she chided herself. It wasn't a big deal, but she felt stupid jumping at the sound of her own name.

Sy reached for the closest towel, hanging from the oven handle, grabbed it and started for her clothes with it. She stopped him. But she couldn't think about why the intimate act made her uncomfortable.

"No, don't, it's fine. These clothes have seen better days, anyway." She pulled the towel from him and began to mop up the small puddles of coffee around her plate.

Sy seemed to note the stains already present on the shirt, as if trying to divine their history. She was something of a messy eater, so the battle wounds of many a barbecue, spaghetti dinner, and hurried breakfast peppered the now off-white SATB club tee she'd gotten her second or third year in college choir. She thought back to a huge room with high ceilings. White, cinder block walls, flecked tile floors, a beautiful, glossy, black baby grand in front of a long whiteboard with black lines to resemble sheet music. She thought about the mnemonic device she'd learned to help her remember what notes appeared on each line, and in the spaces between them. She pondered the deeper meanings and implications of these devices. EGBDF…every good boy does fine. She thought about the "good boys" in her life. She knew many. Her dad, her brother Ethan, Sy, obviously, her many male coworkers and friends…and honestly they did far better than "fine." They were wonderful. But she was letting the "bad boys" she'd encountered dictate her mood. Permeate her psyche. Tear her down. She didn't want to be like this. Then FACE came to mind, and above their purpose of indicating the notes between the lines on the staff, they called her to action. To face these newly minted demons with all the strength she knew she possessed, and she too would "do fine." But as with almost all actions, this was easier said than done.

She felt a warm presence on her left hand which had paused it's torture of the now coffee-infused kitchen towel. Sy's hand was squeezing hers gently.

"Shane." he uttered, barely above a whisper this time. She looked at him through tears that she had not realized had formed. He continued.

"Shane, what can I do, darlin'? I'll do anything."

"Babe, you're doing everything you can, and more. This…this is all going to have to come from me. I…don't know when I'll be myself again…" she paused, tears streaming now. "I'm…I'm different."

"You're not though." he reached for her face, but she pulled away.

"I am, damn it! Sy, I was…" Words had power. And the one she was thinking of had more power than she thought was warranted. She knew that uttering it would take away it's power…and yet mustering the courage and strength to actually do so…seemed impossible. She took a deep breath, and disassociated herself from the statement, even though it was about her own past.

"I was raped." She refused to cry. She felt it all again. She had never said the words. She had never thought it necessary. Everyone understood. Sy, his friends, and she was sure her own loved ones had made the connection. But she knew she needed to say it now to drive home the points she was about to make.

Sy, looked at the table, nodding, not needing to be told in so many words something he already had surmised from the clear evidence. He remained silent. She went on.

"I love you, Sy. I have since the day we met, on one level or another, and I believe that I always will. But I…right now I can't be a proper girlfriend to you. I can't…be with you, touch you, be touched by you, in the way we used to be. In the way you deserve…and I don't know when…or even if…I ever will. Not that I don't want to. That's ALL I want in the world. To go back. To be the woman who fell in love with this…incredible man. To make love with you, but…I can't."

Sy's eyes were full of tears, their predecessors already descending his round cheeks and disappearing into his thick, dark beard.

"Sy, I don't want to lead you on and keep you tied to a relationship with no life in it. You deserve someone who's whole. Someone who can be a fully invested partner for you, and not this broken, damaged--"

"You stop that, Shane. I won't hear no more of this kinda talk. Y'hear? You're my girl. My woman. My person. No matter what. You gotta know I'd never leave ya just cuz you aren't ready for sex again. You don't think that I would, do ya?"

"Well, you went to Virginia…you took that job…knowing the distance it would put between us. Literally and figuratively."

"Biggest mistake of my life." Shane raised her eyebrows in surprise as Sy elaborated. "I couldn't focus on my classes without wishing you were there. Wishing I could team up with you for discussions and hand to hand combat training…that thought got me a little too excited, if you catch my drift." He smirked, pulling a sheepish smile from Shane. "Then in that forest. I dreamt about you every night. I thought of you constantly. I could barely breath sometimes, I missed ya so damned much. I was an idiot. I was insane to think that I needed anything other than you. Any MORE. There IS no more. You're it. You're the MOST! The most important thing in my life."

The declaration hung like vapors in the air, more felt than seen. Tangible yet ethereal.

"And when I found out that you were missing…I was…well, I think I looked like death…and not warmed over. You can ask the program director I met with after I got the news. She could tell I was just sick over it. And as I thought about it on the way home, pieced things together, started thinking about who'd taken you, I got murderous. Shane, I have been in dozens of battles, skirmishes, firefights, you name it. War. But…the sheer bloodlust I felt thinking about what you could be going through…I've never experienced anything like it. Everything was red. Everything. For days. Until I saw you, alive. And then it went red again when I saw the fear and damage on your face." she could tell he was doing his best not to talk about the farmhouse and that basement, but she still flashed back to the moments before and after his appearance there. The moments when she simultaneously prayed to live and hoped to die.

"You don't owe me anything, Shane. I just want you in my life, and I don't care what your presence looks like. Romantic, platonic, or somewhere in between. I'm here for you. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

Shane felt the urge to wrap her arms around her boyfriend, but could not seem to move more than one arm to place her other hand on top of his. She hoped the gratitude and love behind the small, but heartfelt gesture landed. It was all she had in that moment, no matter how abundant her affection.

~~~~~~~~~~

Shane's family's arrival was a complete blur to her. It was joyous, tearful, and the happiest she'd been in a long time. The moment she opened the front door for them, she was surrounded, engulfed with hugs from her parents and siblings. They stood in their affectionate huddle for several moments before Peg waved Sy over with marked insistence. He'd been standing by, observing happily, but not wanting to intrude on the familial reunion.

When they finally dispersed, John asked the two younger men to help him bring in groceries. The women headed into Shane's bedroom for a more private setting in which to talk. Shane filled her mother and sister in the best she could given the rawness of the wounds left on her mind by the events.

She leaned against the headboard cuddling with Gabby while her mom rubbed her feet. She had insisted on doing this thing that had always comforted her children, and made them feel much better when they were younger.

"Well, I'm very proud of you, pumpkin." The girls both looked at their mother, who rather uncharacteristically hadn't spoken in some time. Shane was nonplussed. Peg elaborated.

"You survived something that many women don't. You're talking about it now, which even more women don't. You may think you're broken, but you're just a tree damaged by a storm, but standing stronger than ever." Trust her mom to lay such wisdom on her. When she felt like giving up. When she just wanted pity. When she could only see defeat. Her mother had always found a way to encourage and buoy her and show her the victory.

"Mom's right." Gabby affirmed, and it was Peg's turn to be nonplussed, as the two women, though similar in so many ways, never seemed to see eye to eye. "It's true. Shane I've seen a lot of women come into the clinic in shoes very much like yours. And trust me…some of them…they don't make it to this point. You've got a long way to go before you're fully recovered, don't get me wrong, but you'll get there. You have us. And you have Sy."

"And then there's Sy." She diverted. "How am I supposed to plan any sort of future with him when…" She looked at her mom, and hesitated. Peg rolled her eyes.

"Shane, I know what the two of you get up to when you're alone. You don't have to be shy with me."

"Still…" she took a breath and spoke. "When I can't bring myself to…sleep with him?"

"Look at him, you're kidding, right?" Gabby chided, insensitively, but recanted at the pained expression on Shane's face. "Sorry, sis. Trying to lighten the mood a touch. Too soon. But seriously, I don't think this reluctance you feel will be permanent."

"And even if it is," Peg took over, "that man is out-of-his-mind in love with you, Shaney." She kissed Shane's toe before putting a sock on her foot. "He almost seems to worship you. Now, you know how I feel about using that term outside of religious context, but that is exactly the kind of love I want for you. Devout, and unconditional."

"But, mom, I can't--"

"Did you hear me? I said 'unconditional,' sweetie." Peg interrupted. "No matter what. No matter the obstacle. No matter the distance. No matter the circumstances. Love unwavering. That's what Sy has for you. I've seen it in him. Trust the momma."

The insistence her mother placed on trust had always ruffled Shane's feathers. Gabby's too, who she could feel stiffen slightly beside her. But Shane, for once, really wanted to trust her mother, hoping against hope that she was right. And that she, herself  wouldn't screw up the best relationship she had ever been in or was likely to ever be in again.

The girls had begun talking about some of the coworkers who'd brought food in the past week, and Peg couldn't resist remarking on the character of her favorites and judging the ones she didn't care for…oddly enough, getting more or less, the correct measure of them, as Shane saw it.

After what must have been an hour from the time they'd arrived, they heard a knock on the slightly ajar bedroom door. John poked his head in.

"Ladies, we've put a casserole in the oven, and completed various manly projects around the house--"

"Oh, daddy, what projects?" She cringed. She hated that the men had felt the need to "fix" things.

"Babe, your guest bathroom had not one, but two leaky faucets, your kitchen table seemed to be more of a teeter-totter, and half the light bulbs in the living room were out. Among other tiny things. You're welcome." he smirked his crooked smirk so similar to her own, and she returned it as if he was looking in a mirror.

"Thanks, dad."

"Anyway, lunch is almost ready. So, when you've finished your confab, let's eat."

Dinner passed amiably, Shane found a reserve within herself to allow some quasi-normal behavior, as long as you didn’t look too closely. She was talking animatedly with her siblings, making their parents and Sy laugh riotously. Shane noticed some odd looks passing between Sy and her father, but chalked it up to paranoia. She wished at least Gabby and Ethan could stay, but Heather would be over soon, and she deserved her own dedicated time. Shane wanted to give that to her.

She said her farewells to her family with promises to visit them the next day, and at least one more time before her siblings went back home, if she could work it out.

Sy was so wonderful the whole time. Standing by her, a hand resting lightly on her shoulder as they waved goodbye to the departing vehicle. He made her feel so safe. They went into the kitchen and cleaned up from lunch. Well, Sy cleaned. Shane was texting Heather about when she'd be over.

"Heather says she'll be here in about a half hour. She's picking up wine and pizza." Shane told Sy without looking up from her phone. She could see out of the corner of her eye, though, that he had just closed the dishwasher and was selecting a cycle.

"Sounds great. Do you want me to get out of here? Give you guys some time, one on one?" He asked as he dried his hands, wet from preparing dishes for the machine.

She thought about it, and shuddered. She played a scene in her head that startled her. In her mind's eye, she saw Sy leave and then moments later heard a knock on the door. Presuming it was Heather, she opened the door with abandon, only to see Elliott standing there under a flickering porch light, smirking maliciously at her and ready to overpower and abduct her again. She shook the thought from her head, but remained uneasy as she answered his question.

"Uh, no. Thanks. I'm sure she'll want to talk to both of us. She likes you." Shane grinned softly at Sy in an attempt to mask her trepidation over the thought of him leaving her alone for any period of time. She thought it had worked.

"Okay, well, whatever you think, sunshine. I don't wanna get in the way." He was wiping down the countertops. She felt so impossibly full of love for him, she was starting to wonder how she hadn't yet burst with it. She couldn't bear the thought of holding him back from a fulfilling relationship. He deserved everything she couldn't give him right now. And she knew she should make him leave her. Cut him loose. But she was, as she'd been since she'd met him, a weak woman. She couldn't stand the thought of being without him. Of him no longer being hers. And somehow worse, of not being his, herself. She would always need him for so many reasons, not least of which being her love for him. Maybe one day, she'd recover from this trauma, and be able to be who he deserved. To give him what he needed.

"You're never in the way, bear." She walked up behind him, wrapped her arms around his middle and squeezed him as tight as she could. He placed a loving hand over hers, sighing and smiling, though she had no visual proof of the latter. It was just a feeling.

Heather's greeting was no less exuberant than that of Shane's family, but it was more joyful and less emotional, even though she was immensely relieved to see her best friend after so long. They talked as if no time had passed, and Shane mustered up the dregs of her former self to have one more interaction for the day. Thank God it was Heather and not someone who would require more. She wouldn't have it to give.

"I am so glad you're okay, Shane! Things around the clinic have been bleak as fuck. Susan is loosing her mind, Anita is beside herself with concern, and the rest of us just plain ol' miss the hell out of you. And not just because of all of the overtime everyone has been pulling to get your patients seen."

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry! I didn't realize…wow, I'm awful. I didn't even think---"

"That you'd be missed? Think again, sister. The place would fall apart if you ever really left. But don't feel guilty. It's the least everyone can do, and they've all said it themselves. We all love you, and know that you'd do the same for any of us if you could at all. Hopefully you won't have to, though!"

Shane nodded, eyes wide in agreement. She wouldn't wish the last week of her life on her worst enemy. On the worst person in the world. Except maybe the people responsible. Tit for tat.

"Well, I'm sorry my absence has caused extra work for all of you." Shane looked into the deep glass of Chardonnay Sy had poured her from the bottle Heather had brought. She felt about as small as the air bubble making it's way up the sloping curve of the stemless vessel. She felt a guilt that she knew was fully void of logic. It made no sense for her to feel guilt for being kidnapped. But she had always had this notion, this nagging voice in her head that told her that her misfortunes were a direct result of her decisions. That she'd inadvertently stepped on the butterfly that resulted in the monsoon she was currently experiencing, and whatever cataclysmic events she would face next.

"Why in God's name are you apologizing for this, Shay?" Heather's tone was kind, but still mildly scolding.

"If I'd never been with Elliott, none of this would have--"

"Bitch, are you a fortune teller?"

"No, but--"

"Soothsayer?"

"No."

"Time traveler?"

"I wish!" Shane chuckled. But she really did wish.

"Have you any real and proven success at consistently predicting the future?"

"I don't, but--"

"No. No buts. No howevers. You had no idea what becoming involved with Elliott could have done. Were there signs, sure. But you can't look on the past as a rubric to judge the quality of your decisions. You know that. You can only learn from your mistakes. And you have."

"Heather's right, sunshine. You really have learned. You look for Elliott's behaviors in mine and shut me down quick if you see 'em. You're not going to let yourself go down that road again. And I'm proud of you for it."

Shane silently worried her wine glass. It was hard to argue with such truth. But it was hard to agree when her own feelings were in such stark opposition. So she did neither.

"Well, I've preached my sermon for the day." she laughed. "I've taken up enough of your time. Oh, your phone. It's in my purse. I think it's fully charged, but I turned it off."

Shane thanked her friend, then Heather hugged them both and took her leave.

"Y'okay, bug?" Sy asked her after what she surmised was several minutes of silence. Minutes she didn't notice as they passed.

"Mmm…" she trailed off.

"Can I do something for ya?" And she really thought about the question. He could probably do a lot of things for her. He could make love to her until she felt whole again, even if it hurt her at first. Not an ideal option. He could probably get them both some new identities and enough money to spirit her away to somewhere her past wouldn't follow. If she became someone new, literally, would she have to bring that old baggage, those old scars, with her? Again, suboptimal. But he could definitely take the source of all grief and turmoil in her life far into the Missouri back country, somewhere not even the hunters would venture, some fallow field or forgotten cistern, and end him. Snuff out his spark of life like a candle caught in a tornado. Spill a fatal amount of his monstrous blood onto the unforgiving earth and send him to the Hell to which he was undoubtedly destined. But did she want that? Did she want another soul as a scar on that of the man she so deeply cherished? He'd say it was worth it. He'd say he'd take a thousand more for her. A million. That was Sy.

"Nothing comes to mind." She lied. And he knew it was a lie, but didn't push it. She was so grateful that he respected her, not for the lie itself, but for the reason she wasn't giving him the whole truth just now.

His phone went off and he picked it up as he stood from his seat at the table. She could only hear that it was Matt, the guy she thought she understood had the car place, before she heard tension in Sy's voice. Even from the next room, she could tell something was wrong, though he was talking too quietly for her to make out words.

She heard him suddenly shout a stream of profanities that he rarely said at all around her, at least, let alone together. There was a bang, and the walls of her kitchen quaked like the tectonic plates beneath them were shifting.

Sy walked back in, his face was red, as were his knuckles. He was shaking an injury out of his hand.

"What's wrong?" she asked, deep concern at his appearance and demeanor, suddenly ominous.

"I need to fix your wall in there." he grumbled, evading, without success. She'd be doing therapy on his hand, next.

"What's really wrong?" she repeated, sternly.

"That was Matt. Elliott's…escaped, somehow. He's in the wind."

Shane's heart became so heavy, she could almost feel it smashing through the kitchen floor and burying itself deep in the cement floor of her basement.

"Oh, God! No! What if he goes to the police!?"

"Fuck that, I'm more concerned about him coming after you!"

The two stared, faces full of equal measures of concern for the other.

Up Next: Chapter 21-Patient Education

[trulivin]

Hands Off, Please

A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first fic that I wanted to share with you just so you could get a sense of my writing style and whatnot. Please let me know what you think and requests are open

Kaz Brekker X Reader, Six Of Crows

Warnings: Mentions of Abuse in the past but nothing too graphic!

*I also made this aesthetic so if you would like to use it please just tag me or give me credit for it! And yes I know my gif is janky, but it’s fine!*

Y/N sat at a table on the main floor of the Slat with Rotty and Specht, waiting for Kaz to get out of his meeting with whoever he had a deal with this time. As a long-time member of the Dregs and someone who was practically brought up by the notorious Dirtyhands, Y/N was held in high respect, partially out of fear, among her fellow Crows. Most of the time at least. Of course everyone teased her and called her ‘the bastard’s queen’ or ‘Brekker’s shadow’ because he had always left her in charge whenever he was busy, or she somehow was allowed to beat up anyone who was out of hand. People just listened to her since Kaz gave her so much power. Her reputation as the assassin of the Barrel helped as well.

It was surprising to people like Inej, Jesper, Wylan, and Nina to see Kaz get extremely close to someone, but he had let his guard down with Y/N. He could let his guard down with her. Though he would never admit it, Inej could easily notice the slight change in his demeanor when Y/N was around. Even Y/N showed a subtle difference in her eye when she was around Kaz. It was like they were the same person, always watching their own backs behind a mask, but when they were together all the disguises were disregarded. Jesper was also quite convinced the two were in a secret relationship because of how Kaz somehow always picked Y/N out in a room. On a job, Jesper noticed how he would somehow keep an eye on the dark-haired girl and make sure she was out of harm's way, especially during the raid of the Ice Court and the events following that nearly killed them all. But, sadly the two never showed any signs of physical or emotional connection. They were always together but out of each other’s reach in the slightest. However, there had always been an unsaid establishment that Y/N was Kaz’s and no one could have her.

Of course, that wasn’t known to all of the members of the Dregs. Mainly the younger boys and the newest members.

Rotty and Specht saw a couple of the new boys head over to their table and moved over a bit letting the newbies come and join them. Y/N smiled kindly and also scooted over allowing more room at the little table. “Well we did it!” a boy named Flynn said on Y/N’s right. “Oh did you now,” Specht smirked at Rotty and Y/N. Flynn and Riker were sent to shake up some filthy wannabe boss for the money he owed Kaz for getting him out of trouble.

“So you got the money then?” Y/N asked, bored already with this lot. The newbies smirked and plopped a leather bag on the table in front of her. She leaned back, slightly impressed these idiots actually did it. Of course she trailed after them, making sure they could actually get the job done. The guy may not have had a lot of people backing him, but he had two other guys that could easily take out two, arrogant teenagers.

“We sure did, sweetheart,” Riker smirked at her. Y/N raised an eyebrow at the boy. Rotty and Specht dropped their grins and their eyes went cold. “Watch your mouth,” Rotty snarled. Y/N was actually somewhat excited to see how this would unfold. No, she did not appreciate the little rat calling her that, but if a fight was about to break out she wouldn’t be opposed to that. “I didn’t do anything,” Riker said putting his hands up as if he were surrendering but Y/N could see a glint in his eye. She rolled her eyes. Boys she thought.

Y/N was undeniably a sight for sore eyes in the Barrel so she was bound to draw attention from people, but no one in the Dregs dared to make a move out of fear of what Kaz Brekker would do to them.

“So we got the money. What do we get in return?” Flynn asked. Y/N, Specht, and Rotty sent him a nasty look. “A place to crash and more jobs,” Specht snapped. “Surely we get something better,” Flynn pressed, winking at Y/N. Who the hell was this kid? It was cute at first, but the jokes were already getting old. Riker seemed content with sitting in silence and not pressing on with the jokes and almost looked as shocked as Specht, Rotty, and Y/N at his friend’s response. She glanced up at Per Haskell’s old office hoping Kaz would be finished soon, but the door remained closed. “Why don’t you keep your dicks in your pants boys,” Y/N snapped. If Rotty and Specht were dogs, the hairs on the back of their necks would be bristling. The two had been good friends of Y/N since they met, and if it weren’t for Kaz, they’d probably be the most protective of her.

“Oh come on, you’re the hottest one here,” Flynn said, “Surely you’ve shacked up with the other boys before, yeah?”. Y/N pursed her lips, “I think you hurt Anika’s feelings.” She ignored his other comment. Then Flynn did something no one was expecting: he rested a hand dangerously high on Y/N’s leg. Her cold eyes snapped to his smirking face. That did it. Rotty shoved Flynn off of her and swung. There was a definite crunch.

Riker being an idiot lunged at Rotty landing a solid hit before Specht launched himself into the fight. Everyone’s attention turned on the fight and a few of the younger members joined in trying to back up Riker and Flynn. Y/N somehow got shoved over as more people started taking sides. What the hell was happening in here? She huffed to herself before trying to tear Flynn off of Rotty. He turned and swung not realizing who was. Y/N took a hit to her eye and felt a little blood run down the side of her face.

His face drained and said, “Oh. Darling I am so sorry.” Darling? All the voices of the horrible men rang out in her head for a moment. Y/N glared at him before pulling her arm back and breaking his nose. She then kneed him in the crotch and managed to wrestle him to the ground. Everyone was practically fighting on top of each other. Y/N’s anger flared as she shoved him harder into the wooden floor and scraped his face to make sure some splinters would come up. “You ever lay your hands on me again and I will break both of your arms,” Y/N hissed in his ear digging her need further into his neck. “You crazy bitch!” He screamed in pain.

“You have no idea--” Y/N started, but a loud shot went off and everyone fell silent. “What the hell is going on here?” Kaz growled on the balcony holding a pistol in one hand and his cane in the other. I close my door for one second and this whole damn place falls apart. His eyes were darker than night, and when his eyes landed on Y/N’s partially swollen face his eyes somehow went darker. He was beyond furious. “Well?” He snapped as everyone stayed frozen where they were still holding on to their opponents. Unfortunately, Flynn had been the one to decide to open his mouth, “This psycho,” he gestured under Y/N to Rotty, “Attacked me!” “Yeah well why don’t you keep your hands to yourself then you filthy little perv,” Rotty bit back.

“All I did was flirt a bit with her! Like everyone else does!” Y/N dug Flynn’s face harder into the floor and jabbed him with her knee again. “There’s a difference between having a conversation with someone, flirting, and then trying to feel them up,” She hissed at the boy. She could feel Kaz’s hard stare on her as she seemed to be in the center of a circle now.

Y/N twisted his arm tighter and dug her nails into his skin. Flynn cried out in pain and his eyes went to Kaz. He stood there with narrowed eyes. After a bad childhood, Y/N had always been wary of a man’s touch. Much like Inej, she was picked up and taken to the Menagerie for a majority of her childhood on top of being raised by an abusive father with brothers who seemed to follow in their father’s footsteps. Kaz of course was the only one who knew about this, but Specht and Rotty had a faint idea of what happened after they found her in a closet puking her guts out, pale as a ghost after a job went awry with a nasty man who had a taste for young pretty girls.

“Well? Aren’t you going to help me?” Flynn begged Kaz. Kaz looked at the picture in front of him. Y/N was dangerous right now. He knew the boy laid a hand on her as soon as he came out of the office to see her practically smothering him. She always had that look in her eye that told Kaz when someone stepped out of line. He was screaming inside to just go and strangle the kid for laying a single finger on his girl, but he didn’t need to lose anymore newbies. They were useful for mediocre jobs that Kaz didn’t need to do himself.

Kaz pushed off of the railing and began making his way down to the main floor. “Y/N,” he said calmly, “Up you go.” She glared at Kaz but said nothing, releasing her grip on Flynn. The boy stood up and rolled his shoulders as everyone began picking things back up. Kaz didn’t even have to say anything and they all started cleaning up the mess they made. Rotty and Specht flanked Y/N’s sides as soon as she stood up. Flynn and Riker were still in between them and an approaching Kaz.

“Thank you,” Flynn scowled at Y/N. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He went on, “You’re crazy, bitch. Now I get why you didn’t acknowledge my other comment earlier,” Flynn spat, “No one would ever want to sleep with you, I mean they’d have to--” Kaz’s cane collided with the back of Flynn’s leg causing him to collapse. “Finish that sentence and I’ll let Y/N break more than just your arms,” Kaz growled quietly. He never shouted which made him more dangerous.

But Flynn ignored the pain and smirked again at Y/N. That did it. Y/N grabbed the two daggers in her belt and flipped them up before lunging at the boy. She didn’t care if she was going to kill him. Kaz wouldn’t kick her out of the gang and if he did then screw him too. Y/N knew boys like this. They’d only grow up to be monsters.

Rotty and Specht tried getting in her way because even if they didn’t like this kid, they weren’t going to let Y/N kill anyone in the gang. She easily slipped out of their arms hitting them hard in the face causing them to double over in pain. Just as she was about to slit the kid’s throat, strong arms grabbed her. She felt cool leather hands on her bare arms and a body blocking hers from the cowering boy on the floor. Just how it should be, she thought maliciously. “Let me go!” Y/N snapped, struggling to get to Flynn.

“No,” Kaz said calmly. “Get him out of here,” Kaz ordered Specht and Rotty. Y/N struggled harder against Kaz.

“You can’t just let him go! I will hunt you down and kill you!”

“No you won’t,” Kaz said coolly in her ear, but she ignored his comment.

“I will kill you if I ever see your face here again!” Y/N screamed after the boy that was being dragged out. “C’mon,” he muttered half dragging Y/N up to his room. He was considerably out of breath by the time they reached the top.

Kaz threw her in the room and stood in between her and the door. He knew she was heavily triggered by her past so he let her scream, shout, chew him out. Whatever she needed. “You’re letting him walk? You? Of all people?” She yelled, “You shouldn’t have done that! I know boys like that! They all turn out the same. Disgusting rats who find it fun to take advantage of young, helpless girls!” She hissed. Kaz watched silently observing all of her features. Even as angry as she was with him and beaten up, Kaz seemed to find Y/N even more beautiful. Practically glowing he thought to himself.

“Are you done?” he asked. Y/N stopped pacing and glared daggers at him. Yet, she let out a breath and nodded. The tunnel of red she saw was slowly fading and she came to her senses. It was simply just her and Kaz in the peace and quiet of his room. He looked at her before his gaze softened a bit. He wanted so badly to brush his bare hands across her face, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to. She was intoxicating to him, and he had been slowly working on skin to skin contact with her whenever it was just them. She knew about his brother and she knew how it felt to drown.

It was so easy for her to slip back into her rage and terror over a simple gesture of affection, and Kaz didn’t want to be the one that caused her to act like this. “What happened?” He asked calmly, peeling his gloves off. Y/N caught the movement and stared at his slender hands refusing to let her fascination with them get in the way of her still bubbling rage.

“That little boy thought it would be fun to get a reward for shaking up that guy who owed you money,” Y/N scowled. “And that reward being you?” Kaz quirked a brow. “Yeah,” she spit. “How are you so calm over this?” she growled a moment later. Usually he was more worked up about this and deep down it stung that he didn’t seem to care about her well-being right now. Of course she had no right to care about what he thinks of her. He’s not your boyfriend she scolded herself waiting for his response.

Kaz eyed her for a moment and sighed, “You can take care of yourself.” That wasn’t the answer she was really expecting, but what was it she wanted him to say? He approached her slowly, never taking his eyes off of hers. Y/N stood still, her heart skipping a beat as he stopped in front of her. She saw him take a breath before allowing his hand to brush up against hers. The pain in his eyes over the smallest touch made Y/N pull away. She didn’t want to put him through this. He didn’t owe her anything. “Wait,” He said when she moved her hand.

Kaz’s warm fingers grazed hers before he ran them up her wrist. Any left over anger had subsided as a chill ran down her spine. His dark eyes studied her face and he noticed how her eye now had a purplish tint starting to form, and then he saw where her perfect skin had split and a little blood ran down the side of her face. Kaz gritted his teeth, allowing his temper to begin to rise. In all honesty, he didn’t really know what to think when he saw Y/N on top of the boy digging his skull into the floor. And even worse, for a fleeting moment Kaz had wished it was he who was under her under different circumstances. But he quickly pushed aside any thoughts that weren’t relevant to the event of her killing one of the Dregs in front of everyone.

After a moment, Kaz slowly moved his hand to her face running his fingers lightly across the cut. He allowed his hand to trail down her face as she watched him trace her features. Eventually, his hand fell back next to hers as he allowed himself to intertwine it with her own small hand. Y/N watched as he took a moment to collect himself. She waited for his outburst, but it never came. It was always like this with them. The seclusion of his room, unspoken words that needed to be said, and the smallest touches that left both of them with a burning sensation.

Kaz was getting better at this. After the whole heist and everything, he was getting better with physical contact, but it was still a struggle for him. Even if it was Y/N. He longed to be able to run his hands through her hair, kiss her skin, and just be able to touch her. But somehow, Jordie seemed to slip in his mind as soon as he’d lay a finger on her.

“No one is allowed to lay a hand on you” Kaz murmured partially to himself. She was his and he preferably didn’t want to share. Those nasty little rats, he scowled.

“What is this?” Y/N blurted out softly. Kaz gave her a confused look as the sound of her voice caught him off guard. She even surprised herself. “I mean,” she started with a shaky breath, “What are we?” she finally asked. Kaz looked at her and saw the frightened girl he picked up off the streets as she had escaped the Menagerie. He thought for a moment. What were they? Kaz wondered the same thing. “I-I don’t know,” he said watching her face slightly fall. “But,” he started again, “It doesn’t mean we can’t be something,” he concluded. It was true, he had always wanted to be with her, but he knew she’d have to be patient with him, and he’d have to be patient with her. Kaz couldn’t tell her he would spoil her and shower her with hugs and kisses and gifts because he physically couldn’t. He didn’t want to do that to her and even if he could get over his fear, he didn’t want to push her either.

“It’s hard for me too you know,” she spoke again pulling him from his thoughts. He knew, but he let her talk anyways. “They beat me,” her voice wavered, “and left me in the freezing rain. They laughed at me--” “Don’t, Y/N just don’t,” Kaz stopped her. She didn’t need to explain herself and why she wanted to kill that boy. “You’re safe with me,” Kaz said more firmly now. And hesitantly he did something he didn’t expect himself to do. He pulled her into him and wrapped his arms around her. Y/N froze not knowing if she should hug him back. Timidly, she wrapped her arms around him and the two stood there in silence. Everything inside Kaz screamed at him and the bile rose in his throat, but he forced it away the best he could. She needed him right now even if he felt like he was drowning.

“Kaz,” Y/N mumbled, pulling him up from the cool water that he was slipping under. She could sense his uncomfort and knew it was time to let go. She unwrapped her arms from around him and slowly untangled herself from his body. Surprisingly, he missed the warmth her body brought, but he was also grateful she stepped back and gave him some space. A small smile played at her lips as he stepped back and put his gloves back on. “C’mon,” he spoke softly offering his now covered hand to her. Y/N took it with ease. It doesn’t mean we can’t be something played over in her mind. She was as happy as she could possibly be even if it would take time. She would wait and she knew it would take time not only for him but for her as well. Y/N was just happy Kaz was officially hers in some way, and she got the feeling he was content with that too. Although, she didn’t know she had always been his in his own mind.

They made their way back down to the landing above the Crows. For the most part, the room had been picked up but everyone was still cleaning the mess up. Specht and Rotty had returned with a very bruised Flynn helping pick up broken tables and chairs. As soon as Kaz and Y/N made it on the landing, everyone could sense their presence. All heads turned to them.

“The tables and chairs all better be replaced by tomorrow morning,” Kaz’s hard stare was back. “I didn’t fix this place up with my own money for a bunch of idiots to go and destroy it all.” Y/N stood closely next to Kaz, her eyes narrowed as she was watching the crowd. “And no one lays a hand on Y/N anymore,” he hissed. “If I ever catch any of you with your filthy hands on her, insulting her, or even looking at her without a single ounce of respect, I will break more than just your face.” That was a bit much, Kaz she thought to herself but smirked a little at how much he was actually riled about this.

“Got it?” he snapped. The crowd nodded and gave a terrified “yes” as he glared down on them with his usual Kaz face. Y/N scanned the gang below and found most of the young ones refusing to look at her and Kaz. Flynn was looking anywhere but her. “Did you get that?” she snarled at the newbies. “Flynn?” she spat. All eyes snapped to hers as her anger seemed to be returning. “Yes,” he mumbled along with the others before diverting his eyes. “Back to work,” Kaz snapped, and just like he pushed an unfreeze button, everyone jumped back to picking up damaged pieces.

Flynn, Riker, and a few others decided to head out and find more chairs and tables. When their backs were turned and they were walking out, a very sharp dagger whizzed by Flynn’s ear and hit the wall an inch away from where he put his hand. Everyone jumped at the thump and he turned, wide-eyed back to the landing. Y/N stood there with Kaz behind her. “Next time he won’t stop me from killing you,” she threatened. Flynn and the others recoiled in fear and simply nodded. “Off you go then,” she dismissed them.

Specht and Rotty watched as Kaz stepped aside and let Y/N go up the steps first and saw his hand hover the small of her back as they disappeared back upstairs. “All hail the king and queen,” they joked and went on with their cleaning.

_____________________________________________________________________

I hope you enjoyed this and again please send feed back! Request away my darlings! xoxo

[mushroom-cartel--writing]

begrudging (love-)blindness

Summary: You are, to him, unquestionably, terrifyingly lovely.

Relationship(s): Gojo Satoru & Reader, Gojo Satoru/Reader

Note(s):

Here’s the link to read this on AO3! (You know the drill, extra tags, different notes, the format I intended, etc.)

Personally, I think this is hot garbage in terms of structure and pacing (it’s loosely all strung together is what I’m saying, but I just needed to get it off my chest before I wrote anything else. Yet... I guess I had fun? Yeah. I did!

There's spoilers from the manga mixed with headcanon.

I still hate spacing and formatting on Tumblr, it sucks. Please, please, please, this is for your own good, click the AO3 link, this fic is such an eyesore on this platform.

|||

There’s a tug at your chest, sending you hurtling backwards and into something hard. A wall. Tiles. Smooth.

The heavens and the earth view one another through a layer of haze of light at night.

There are thousands of people gathering, their footsteps thundering echoes in your ears. Their chatter is a constant hum in the air. It stinks of sweat.

(“The train will be arriving soon. Please stand behind the yellow line—”)

You sigh.

“Dammit, Satoru! A little warning would be nice,” you hiss to the man. You hear him whisper something back but his voice is swallowed up by the crowds and then he, too, is consumed.

You feel him wander farther away from you; not left with much choice, you follow him. And down, down, down you go.

You pause when there’s an invisible wall blocking your path of his own making. “Hey!!” you shout, starting to scream expletives at him from the top of his lungs and he doesn’t look back.

A few seconds pass. The people, these poor, clueless civilians who just want to go home for the night are like sardines in a can, their bodies pushing and shoving. For space. For air. Requiring neither, you phase through the wall and the remaining levels to catch up to him, the thoughts going through your head solely focused on figuring out why he has let you out. He wouldn’t do something like this without warning you beforehand.

Why now? What now?

You pull out from the shadowed cracks of the feeble curtain set up along the fifth floor underground, suddenly feeling a heaviness you hardly ever experience. You run a cursory swipe over his teeth; the blood in the air is fresh, there are more civilians down here than up above, more sardine-ing (their presence is fading away, the above platforms’ panicked din becomes extinguished, it’s ghastly quiet, a moment frozen in time), but no Satoru. Not physically.

He loves you, you know. (You don’t understand though… Why?)

It’s a burden, draining you of what vigour is left in your soul, barely just clinging on to this plane itself.

His love is a curse in itself, really.

"I don't want you to see me hurt," he had said often, back when you were children, oblivious to the power of those words until you got older.

What they meant.

What they did—to him and you.

Still as the wind, you stand together, hands brushing up against each other's, your fingers infected with poison where his is not; the calloused skin and scars shared between you weaving a tale for the ages that will never be told.

You’re both nineteen at heart but certainly not in spirit.

You lean against him, completely unseen, waiting for him to flick his finger back.

Waiting for him to obliterate the first person he thought he could trust outside.

He doesn’t. You disappear for another time, expectant.

His love is a burden and you're not sure where you would be without it.

If he hadn't looked your way, would you be the same person you are today?

It's frightening, these thoughts of yours, but he usually chases them off when he senses them bubbling to the surface. (You want him to be annoyed.) A casual grin and stance, a flick of his wrist, a rush of wind by your side, then the phantom pressure is gone, yes, gone, however—it's never banished completely. It never can be.

You don't remember the colour of his eyes but there's a memory of you claiming they looked like marbles, buried somewhere (somehow), in the back of your mind. Like the marbles you'd smash glass bottles to obtain, their fizzy contents only drained seconds beforehand; stubby, sticky, small fingers sorting through the shards, squashing ants in the process.

Those very same fingers, now, haven't changed a bit, save for the chipped nails and whatnot duress they’ve sustained throughout his life.

You use them to push the blindfold up to his forehead, taking in the surrounding sights.

Why now? The fact that you can feel them, his fingers and everything else—that’s a bad sign. A very bad sign.

You breathe, inflating the faux lungs.

Finally, you see it. The reason why you’re walking and talking and fully corporeal.

You gulp at the living corpse, its stitches wonky and fresh. Cerebrospinal fluid spills from its face in fat droplets and lands upon the clothes of a dead man. Disgusting.

“So I was right in the end,” you say, more for yourself than anyone else. “You’re not Suguru.”

(Satoru owes you a thousand yen. You told him to burn the body immediately. Or, you know, the usual. But what’d he do instead? He went and passed it off to a third party! Man, why’d that old hag have to kick the bucket so soon… If she was still around she’d probably kick Satoru’s dumb ass for trying to be decent.)

“How are you free?” Not-Suguru asks.

The real Suguru wouldn’t ask about your appearance. He would make a comment about how the temperature has dropped and burrow into his collar. He wouldn’t question things.

The real Suguru never acknowledged you, but he knew there was something in the corner of his eye that took the image of his friend and laughed alongside them when they pulled their antics during missions.

The real Suguru is gone.

Who the hell knows where Shouko is.

Yeah. A little warning would have been nice. Real fucking nice.

There’s a cube with a dozen eyes between the two of you, the crater on the ground betrays its unassuming weight. Satoru’s muted presence, a shrunken pearl of light, emanates from the cube.

Not-Suguru follows your line of sight to it.

Giving him an answer would be a waste of your time.

You can’t, they say.

Young master, please, don’t go there, implores the servants and guards.

The elders, his grandmother especially, tell him not to enter the storehouse tucked away in the garden behind an avenue of camellia trees because that’s something they’ll discuss when he’s older.

He doesn’t listen to them, the curiosity of a three-year-old child cannot be satisfied by mere words. (“Let this be known,” the gardener says in his defense, one cold summer’s day. It is raining outside. His grandmother shoots the only person in the compound that doesn’t treat him like a blind fool with a withering glare. He does not see them again until—)

What’s in the storehouse?

A library of cursed objects? Spiritual remnants, artefacts, texts, poisons, weapons?

Maybe the mummified corpse of an ancestor whom they keep around to ward off evil?

Perhaps a curse, frozen in time forevermore?

Maybe it’s nothing and the adults are all in on some kind of elaborate hoax, he figures. Mm, yeah. Sounds about right. No one else knows about the storehouse.

It’s old and earthen. Wild plants curl the walls to one side and splotches of moss grow on the tiled roof. Where the sun hits least is pristine. Clean. He wonders if that’s where the wards are placed, out of sight, out of mind.

Oh.

Standing in the entrance of the open door with bare feet, at the threshold of the aged structure, fulfilling his desire, he learns why they wanted him to remain ignorant.

It’s a child. (A human…? This whole situation is off.) A kid his age. He can’t tell whether or not they’re older or younger. They might be a bit taller, though.

No, he wants to shout, this can’t be it! He stomps his foot. That’s cliché! Boring, boring, boring! Again, he strikes the ground. Ugh, whatever—

A sigh escapes the emaciated figure sitting in the darkness, hunched over themself against the wall of the bare storehouse.

“Ah, my f̶̥̍r̵̝͐̏i̷̳end,” they start, softly. “M̶̹̦͒y̸͍̮̋̚ f̸͉̓̋r̴͇̦̕ǐ̴̦͇e̵̫͠n̷̢͉̅̓ḍ̸̅, my very dear, old friend. You have returned.

“My e̷̳̭̿y̶͈͂e̷͔̭̎͘s̴̭̄̊, have you come to give them back? Ask for several others?

“I have waited for you, as promised. Come. Closer. Please. I do not know how long has passed since I last gazed upon your visage. Do not be afraid.

“I no longer lust for flesh as fervently as before, I will not ask of y̸͖͔̒o̵̳̍u̵͍̘̓ ą̴͕̈́n̵̫̓d̸̛̳͛ y̵̻͑̎o̵̖̥͒͌ų̴͋̐r̵̦̩̓s a sacrifice to please me.”

Their voice is garbled, the resemblance to a broken radio off-pitch jarring his reaction time, a music box opened underwater gurgling, ghosts beat to the rhythm of the blood in his ears and titter buried mysteries.

In the corner of his eyes distant stars burn, galaxies explode to life and die repeatedly, the vast cosmos is shredded apart. Universes are swallowed whole. The plane he stands upon bends to the will of the one whose gifts he uses carelessly to play the role of a deity and dictate the balance of the world.

People have said [they] reflect the very heavens.

His faith wanes.

.

a trio of ragtag orphans,

escapees, survivors and starved,

on the verge of being

no better than beasts,

happen upon a traveller taking respite from the winding roads.

a foreigner no doubt

they guess from the strange hued garb;

rest, everyone around these parts,

they know comes not

easy to scum, scoundrels, sinners and

deceivers alike.

.

.

.

mad ones, rushing to death

—without protection i must add—

oh my darling children, you are!

consume my flesh,

defend those unseeing,

purge the blight

and you shall witness

my return before long, indeed?!

.

They do not move and neither does he.

What he assumes to be their head tilts ever so to the side, gauging him, this fool of a boy trespassing on their domain. This part of the garden, the little boy realises too late, is theirs.

This, the storehouse and now him.

(—the gardener finds him sprawled out on his back come dusk. They help him to his feet and dust him off, the sparkle in his eyes an unusual occurrence; they ask their precious young master what happened and he points them in the direction of the doors sealed shut.

“I took a peek inside,” he lies. Children are supposed to do that, right?

“And what did you find?”

“Nothing.” The gardener knows he’s a bad liar.

“Good. Now come.” They lead him away from the path of the camellias. “Lady Mitsue has been beside herself over you, mister.”

His grandmother hasn’t. She probably knows what he has done and will instruct him to feed the council what they want to hear. My son was too soft, she asserts before and after every meeting with those windbags.

You have to do better.

And his father is dead, so only time will tell who’s right.)

He starts having weird dreams (memories?) several days later.

Trying to ignore them doesn’t work.

Every waking moment is subject to gore.

He has to resist the urge to scratch his own eyes out while he trains.

In the world beneath his eyelids, there are shadowy figures claiming it best he is blinded and locked away and fed what no other soul could hope to consume without issue. And just as they force open his jaw—every night, every time—he wakes up.

Satoru doesn’t know what to make of it. Doesn’t know what to make of you.

One day, he dreams of years of living without sunlight causing you to screw your not-eyes shut and look away upon the opening of a door into your domain. When you recover, you turn to the door, the emotion of curiosity tugging for your attention out of the myriad of beings you’ve eaten.

Standing at the threshold, ethereal, desperate and short of breath, is a young man. In his arms is a woman, his wife, you presume. They’re stark shades of white, binary stars of a celestial system long dead.

You smile, recognising them in an instant. “Ah, my old friends, children of my children’s children a dozen times over, tell me, what is it you wish for?”

“My wife and our child,” says the man, “please, I beg of you, save them!”

Oh? A healing? It’s been quite some time since that was last requested of you.

You skitter to the pair’s side and shut the door gently behind them, ushering them further in.

You click your not-tongue at the woman’s state, wondering why no one thought to come to you earlier. If they did, the price they’d have to pay would be much less than what you’re about to tell the man. Humans are such prideful creatures, Satoru knows this, but he can’t help but feel tense as you instruct the man to lay the woman down and state your cost.

First, he opens his mouth. Then it shuts. Opens. Shuts. The man regards his dear wife with something Satoru has never seen before in the eyes of those around him.

His reply?

“I accept—”

A harsh smack to the head disrupts the memory; he looks up, unsurprised to meet his grandmother’s gaze, wrinkled eyes so very much like his own piercing his soul.

“Being distracted in the middle of a fight is unbecoming of you, boy,” she says. “What seems to be the matter?”

He can’t tell her.

He stays silent.

“Satoru.” She raises her hand, fingers crossed, indicating the void’s opening. “We Gojou pride ourselves on our ability to adapt. That is why, in fact, I say my son was too soft. He could not accept that he would lose my daughter-in-law and the child she carried in her womb to common illness. He could not accept that it was impossible to cheat death. He could not accept the position he was placed in. And for that, he died and of the aforementioned two, only you lived. Do you understand?”

No. He doesn’t want to understand.

What is adaptation if they’ve yet to rid themselves of and bow down to your constant presence? Is that not their most fatal flaw?

You eat them.

One life in exchange for another; you told his father it was the only way.

You were given the corpse of his mother a hundred days after his birth by the elders.

Every Gojou after death, you grind their bones between your teeth and their flesh rots at the bottom of your belly. Their soulful essence fights for dominance against the forces of the innumerable curses the clans feeds you—the hate, the sentiment, the sheer bursts of techniques and mighty powers clashing, click, click, click—you embody and absorb the aftermath of each childish scuffle, playing the bored jailer adjudicator. Corpses, tools, objects, energy and flesh. It’s how you’ve lived for so long without light or human thought to taint you: the jujutsu world’s dirty little secret, waste disposal.

You are, to him, unquestionably, terrifyingly lovely.

He loves you for that one reason.

A means to an end, forever.

(The boy, a few days shy of his fourth birthday and inauguration, does not know what love is. He thinks he does, having read the definition in a dictionary in order to familiarise you with modern speech, but love is not a word to be thrown around lightly the way he does.)

“I do,” he lies again, this time, to himself. “I understand everything.”

His sight is black.

He pushes back against the current, against instinct telling him to relinquish control and reaches forward for the dream that he was ripped from.

Your true form towers over his mother’s prone form, dripping ichor and the fluid of loose entrails all over. His father stays seated even when you lift an arm to draw blood, the man facing you without a trace of fear.

“I accept—but on the condition that my child receives your protection.”

“My p̶̹̽r̴̽ͅo̵̠͐ť̷̬e̶̺̊c̶̻̒t̷̙͑i̵̮̓o̶̱n̷̖͂?” Do they not teach the younger generations what that entails?

“Yes. My ancestors wrote that you were a benevolent being in a past life. That you were a kind-hearted human who accidentally drank poison before being found and buried alive, condemned and reviled, forcing you to become what you are now. Does that still not hold true?” His father’s face is hopeful.

It doesn’t. But who are you to tell him that? That ‘benevolent being’ never existed in the first place. You’ve always been this.

The vivisepulture part was true, but the beginning? Debatable. Your memories of ‘being human’ are foggy; you’re not sure if they’re real or someone else’s. Satoru’s is the clearest thus far because you abide within him. And he’s young, there’s little to garner.

What other nonsense has been made truth in the time you have withdrawn from the world?

He wants to go down that rabbit hole.

You grab the cube and run, warping reality in your wake.

You are many things.

Alive, you are first; secondly a parent, a teacher and a friend; cursed thrice times over; quarter something-something or rather by this point; and last, your hollowness complements the damned hallowed.

You are Gojou Satoru but not.

His skin peels off in delicate scales from the speed you’re going.

The first and last time you puppeteer his body, Satoru invokes his father’s contract with you for the second time in his life.

Like the first occurrence, it happens by accident.

(The first occurrence is a stain on your memory.

Mitsue looked her grandson in the eye and tasked him with a futile quest, one that would decide the future headship of their clan. You personally thought such practices outdated but you held his tongue and grit his teeth, faking laughter for the audience they had.

She reminded you too much of your youngest, both in the way she cobbled herself together and how she suspended time long enough to catch a glimpse of you hunched beside him, flickering in and out of her void domain with the ease of a toddler climbing free of their crib.

Beautiful and deadly.

He nearly died.)

He is unaware of the finer details, but where his consciousness ends at getting a scalpel to head, it rouses again with him standing before the man who has the blood of Satoru’s friends on his hands and left him to bleed out undecapitated.

On a high from escaping Izanami’s clutches, he sprouts math and whatever nonsense off the top of his head and ragdolls up, down, across and through the air.

He feels like a being higher than the gods. Doesn’t mean he is, though.

He’s barely in control.

Violent swashes of red and blue fill the sky. He sees beyond his opponent rising from the earth the heavens condemning his breaching unto their space.

“Hey, stranger, did you know purple was her favourite colour?”

“Whose?”

|

“Satoru.”

“Hm?”

“You are Satoru, right?”

“Yessssss?”

“You… you’ve got a bit of…” Suguru gestures vaguely around the lower half of his face.

“Oh.” You rub the corner of his mouth with the pad of his thumb and see it come back tinged pink. The drying drool on his sleeves is used to rub the rest of the blood away. “Thanks.”

“Have you found her?”

“Amanai? Her body?” Suguru flinches. Your gaze is drawn to the cultists clapping. “Yeah, I did. Sorry.”

“What are you apologising for?”

“I don’t know,” Satoru says. “I feel like killing these people. Should we?”

“Why?”

“I’m still h̸͓̟͐u̴̦͗n̴͇͈̅͛g̵͔̒̕ŗ̴͕͂͘y̸͚͍͘͘.” Two wasn’t even a snack.

“I’m angry that we failed too. But we can’t do anything now, it’s out of our hands.”

|

Several days later finds him back at the entrance of the storehouse, none the worse for wear.

In the shadow of the building grows a lone weed.

“It’s changed.”

“Of course it has.”

“Will I end up like them?”

“Yes.”

[celestialtitania]

The Letter

Thank you to @nothingwillsuffice for betaing! Written for MWG's April Event. Can also read on AO3.

Alya stared at her two friends in disbelief. They had gone from having limited contact to practically snuggling with each other in front of the whole class!

"I know you two finally started dating but how are you so affectionate already?" She demanded to know, waiting for her best friend to immediately spill the details.

"Isn't this how all couples interact when they love each other?" Adrien asked innocently.

Marinette leaned slightly away from Adrien, so she could whisper in Alya's ear without being overheard. "He gets his romance from anime. Don't tell him anything!"

Adrien Agreste, the famous supermodel, was into anime? Alya raised a disbelieving brow at Marinette who nodded at her in all seriousness. Adrien rested his head on Marinette's shoulder just then and Alya had to control herself from whipping out her phone and snapping a picture.

"Hey, dude and dudette," Nino greeted them as he walked in, fist-bumping Adrien and tossing an arm around Alya. "Hi, babe," he greeted her with a smile. Then he took a double take as Adrien went from resting on Marinette to full-on snuggling into her.

"What are you, a cat? Keep climbing like that and Marinette will be too tired to do anything," Nino shook his head at them.

"It's fine," Marinette waved Nino off as Adrien pouted and snuggled further. "Marinette's warm and if I let go, I'll miss her too much!" Adrien whined in protest. Marinette simply patted his head with her free hand as Alya gaped in disbelief.

"I always knew this day would come but this is too soon. Even for them," Nino lamented and Alya turned to her boyfriend in confusion.

Nino dramatically looked up at the ceiling and shook his head before turning to her. "It's time we face it, babe. We're no longer the romantic ones of the group," Nino said mournfully. Alya's jaw dropped in indignation.

"Nino! Of course, we're the romantic ones. We're very romantic!"

Nino simply gazed at Marinette and Adrien in response. Alya sighed in resignation. "Okay, fine. No one can be as romantic as these two, but we're still plenty romantic."

"These two have me thinking we're not romantic at all."

"Okay, that's so not true," Marinette disentangled herself from Adrien to lean forward. "You two are my favourite couple." Beside her, Adrien nodded solemnly in agreement.

Nino gave them a grin as he played with his hat. "Yeah, you're right. We're an awesome couple." He gave Alya a quick kiss on the cheek as Marinette slid out of his seat. Alya smiled at Nino as she headed towards her own seat but what he had said was starting to get to her. An uncomfortable feeling grew in her stomach and she turned to Marinette, who was watching her carefully.

"Girl, I need you to tell me the truth. Are Nino and I really not that romantic of a couple?"

Marinette sighed. "You two got akumatized for playing "Super Penguino" on a class trip and we all know you weren't playing a video game. You two are very romantic and so clearly in love."

"But what if Nino doesn't think that's true anymore?" Alya whispered, anxiously picking at her nails.

Marinette frowned. "If he thinks you two aren't being as romantic as you used to be, why don't you just do something extra romantic for him?"

Alya tilted her head, thinking it over. That was an intriguing idea. "Like what?" She asked, a little lost for ideas.

Marinette hummed thoughtfully. "Oh! You're an amazing writer, especially when it comes to the facts."

"That's true. Any journalist worth her salt has to be a good writer," Alya pointed out before pausing as she took in the smirk on Marinette's face.

"Why don't you write Nino a love letter?" Marinette whispered excitedly.

Alya blinked having expected something unnecessarily big and complicated. "A love letter?"

"Old-school romance, I think it's the sweetest thing ever. Getting that love letter would just make your heart flutter, especially when it's from someone you love more than anything." Marinette confirmed, sighing dreamily at the idea of receiving a love letter.

Alya quirked an eyebrow at her. "And how exactly do you know this?"

Marinette smiled. "Maman was telling me stories about how Papa courted her, yesterday."

Alya couldn't help but gush at that herself. That must have been so sweet. She paused, replaying the emotions that had just overcome her as Marinette looked at her triumphantly.

"So, you doing it?" Marinette asked innocently, though she couldn't quite hide her smile.

Alya simply rolled her eyes at her best friend. "Nobody likes a gloater," she said, turning to pay attention to Mlle. Bustier's lesson even as Marinette quietly squealed in anticipation.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Alya held up her freshly written letter and squinted at it. Marinette sighed at her from where she was lying on Alya's bed.

"This is like the tenth time you've rewritten it!" Marinette protested when Alya turned around to give her an annoyed look.

"I have to make sure it's perfect!" Alya smiled, her competitive nature coming to life. "He'll regret thinking we're not romantic, if it's the last thing I do!"

"Okay, tone it down over there with the possible supervillain origin story," Marinette laughed. "Alya, Nino loves you. He'll see how romantic it is no matter what you write, okay?"

Alya pursed her lips. "Maybe if I just change one more thing," she mused, reaching for the eraser. Marinette caught her arm before she could get to it and gave her a hard glare.

"No. No more editing," Marinette commanded. Alya looked up at her pleadingly but Marinette was not swayed in the slightest. "Put it in the envelope, Alya." Grudgingly, Alya folded the letter and put it inside the rose-scented pale pink envelope they had specifically picked out.

"Now, seal the envelope," Marinette handed Alya the glue stick, dashing Alya's hopes that she could just take the letter out again later. But Alya didn't argue, knowing Marinette was right to force her into it.

"It's done. It's official now," Alya groaned, resting her head on her desk. Marinette giggled at her. "Not quite, you still have to give it to Nino."

Alya's eyes widened. "Like hand the letter to him? In front of everyone?"

"That'd be so bold and romantic," Marinette gushed.

"Are you sure you haven't started getting your romance tips from anime too?" Alya asked dryly.

Much to Alya's surprise, Marinette blushed. "I had to! Adrien would keep flirting with me anime style and I wanted to know the best ways to catch him off guard."

Alya stared at her best friend. "Never tell me anything about how you and Adrien flirt, got it?" She ordered, inwardly shivering at whatever would cause Marinette to blush so furiously. Marinette opened her mouth to protest but Alya waved her finger at her. "Never," she repeated.

This time it was Marinette's turn to pout at her but Alya also did not give in. After a few moments of an intense staring contest, Marinette gave in with a huff. Satisfied, Alya turned back around to consider her letter.

"Why don't we mail it to Nino instead?" Alya asked hopefully.

"What if his parents or Chris find it and open it before Nino sees it? That would ruin the romance aspect," Marinette pointed out.

"Well do you have a better idea? Because I am not walking up to him and giving it to him at school. That is way too much pressure."

Marinette gave her a mischievous look. "What happened to the fearless journalist who doesn't back down from the truth?"

"She's on vacation," Alya deadpanned making Marinette laugh.

Marinette picked up the letter, her eyes moving around the room. Then she blinked, a slow smile appearing on her face. "I have a plan," she informed Alya.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

"For some reason, I feel like you came up with this plan just so you wouldn't have to babysit by yourself," Alya commented as they watched Manon play with Marinette's handmade dolls, as they sat on the park bench.

"Would I do that?" Marinette asked, curled up on the bench. Her eyes kept drooping and she let out a gigantic yawn.

"Based on how tired you are, you most definitely would. Girl, are you not getting enough sleep? You didn't use to be this sleepy." Behind all of Alya's teasing, she was worried for her friend.

"I'm okay, I just get behind on school and whatnot. You know what they say about vicious cycles," Marinette shrugged. "Come on, let's go over the plan one more time."

Alya nodded determinedly, as she pulled out the written she had so carefully written. "Nino will like it, right?" She asked her best friend, a small niggle of doubt making her hesitant.

Marinette beamed at her. "He'll love it," she confirmed. Then she sat up looking more attentive than she had been in hours. "He's here!" She whisper-squealed as she pointed in a general direction. Alya followed her finger to where Nino and Adrien had sat down. Clearly, neither boy had noticed the girls.

"Manon!" Marinette called out to the little girl, who looked up curiously at the sound of her name. When Marinette gestured for her to come over, she quickly abandoned the dolls and ran to sit on Marinette's lap. Manon had turned expectantly towards Alya.

"Is it story time?" Manon asked innocently.

Alya shook her head. "Not yet. Do you see that blond boy, the one you took pictures with once Ladybug got rid of all the ice?"

Manon's eyes lit up in recognition and she nodded eagerly. "Well, can you give this letter to the boy sitting next to him?" Alya held out the letter for Manon, who was frowning. "If you do, I'll tell you all the stories you want."

"Deal!" Manon exclaimed happily, quickly grabbing the letter from Alya and heading towards the two boys. Marinette and Alya watched with bated breath as Manon went to go talk to the boys. Soon enough, Manon was running back to them.

"There! Now a story!" The little girl demanded, plopping herself into Alya's lap. Alya wanted to keep watching the boys but a deal was a deal. Marinette only laughed as Alya began to spin tales of unicorns battling robots.

She'd gotten all the way up to the climax when Marinette interrupted her, by tapping on her shoulder. Adrien and Nino had come up to them. Nino was frowning while Adrien looked extremely uncomfortable.

Marinette winked at Alya before getting up to give Adrien a hug. He hugged her back but not as tightly or lovingly as he always did. Instead, his arms came up hesitantly while his gaze remained trained on Alya. Meanwhile, Nino refused to look at her.

Exasperated, Alya turned to Marinette hoping she would have some idea of what was going on. But Marinette looked just as puzzled as Alya felt.

"Adrien? Is something wrong?" Marinette asked, gently laying a hand on Adrien's cheek which caused him to flinch. A look of surprise and hurt crossed Marinette's face as she took a step back from him.

"Nino? What's happening?" Alya frowned, as she put Manon down to stand next to him. Her boyfriend simply fiddled with his hat, like he always did when he was upset with one arm crossed across his chest defensively. Adrien gave Marinette a regretful look before taking in a deep breath.

"Alya," Adrien said, his voice was hard and unforgiving. "Why would you give this to me?"

Alya looked at Marinette instinctively. She hadn't given anything to Adrien. That was when Adrien reached into his pocket and pulled out a pink envelope. A very familiar pink envelope.

"Why do you have that?" Alya asked as she threw a hurt glance towards Nino. Even if he hated the letter, her boyfriend could have had the decency to keep it to himself rather than pass it on to his best friend.

Then she registered what Adrien had said. "W-what do you mean, give it to you?"

In the corner of her eye, Alya could see Marinette slapping her hand to her forehead before crouching to speak with Manon.

"Manon said it was for me," Adrien defended. "And it has your name on it!"

"You said to give it to the blond boy!" Manon piped up, helpfully.

"No, we said to give it to the boy next to him," Marinette corrected, a relieved smile on her face. "You weren't listening, were you?"

"What?" Nino stuttered, his arms falling down as his eyes met hers. Marinette rolled her eyes.

"Obviously, the letter was for you, Nino. Why on earth would it be for Adrien?"

Adrien and Nino gaped as Marinette scolded Manon for being so excited about a story she ended up not doing her job properly. "Only responsible little girls get stories!" She finished making Manon nod sadly.

"Sorry for making a mess," She apologized before running to hug Marinette's leg for some comfort.

Adrien was visibly relieved as he handed the letter over to Nino before going to Marinette. Alya shook her head at both Manon and Adrien before turning her gaze back towards her sheepish boyfriend.

"Hey, Alya, I just–," Alya didn't let him finish, swatting him on the arm. He yelped before rubbing it to soothe the pain.

"How dare you?" Alya hissed. "I pour all my time and effort into making you the most amazing and romantic letter possible and you think I would send it to Adrien?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Alya saw Adrien open his mouth to protest but Marinette elbowed him in the gut before he could say anything.

Nino wrung his hands together. "I didn't really know what to think, I just...it was your name on the letter and Manon insisted it was for Adrien, and I…"

They turned towards Manon, who gave a little shrug. Alya supposed she should let it go, Manon was only five years old, making her younger than even Alya's twin sisters. And they would have made the mistake much worse than just giving it to Nino's best friend.

Nino's lack of trust on the other hand…Sensing she was about to yell at him again, Nino took her hand in his. "You know I love you, babe. The idea of losing you hurt me too much." He gave her a soft, pleading look.

Alya raised an eyebrow and Nino sighed. "I panicked and acted like a complete idiot. Please forgive me?"

Alya rolled her eyes before pulling Nino into a hug. She could feel her boyfriend grin against her before he pulled back just enough to kiss her. When he pulled away, Alya couldn't help the wave of disappointment that had washed over her.

"Nino? Read the letter," Marinette advised. Then she turned to Alya. "You know, all the movies say that couples that go through misunderstandings like this are the most romantic. But I guess that's just my opinion."

Alya's bestie scooped Manon into her arms before dragging Adrien away. Alya sent Marinette a grateful look before turning back to her boyfriend.

"It smells nice," he said lamely.

"Wow, so nice of you to notice," Alya snarked. He seemed to wilt under her gaze as he carefully opened the letter and began to read. Alya was rather gratified to see the myriad of emotions crossing Nino's face as his eyes misted up.

"I love you too, Alya. I love you so much, babe. I'm so sorry I'm such an idiot." Nino said, at last, his hands trembling as he gripped the letter.

Alya rolled her eyes once again. "And we're an extremely romantic couple, I was completely in the wrong," Nino added.

A smirk crossed Alya's face, making her shrug. "I suppose I can forgive you, just this once," Alya mused out loud making Nino laugh. Before she could react, he pulled her into a kiss and Alya decided there were more important things to care about.

[aer-in-wanderland]

구미호뎐 | 김범 - Kim Beom ‘Lee Rang Talk’ Instagram LIVE 2020.12.01 

In which Kim Beom addresses fan questions and comments he searched the internet for personally, entirely of his own accord. #Bless ♡♡♡

Time signatures are from this recording uploaded to youtube -> [x]

Because the LIVE was quite long (nearly an hour) I’ve selected out questions and topics that I thought were interesting. For the parts that I omitted, I’ve left time signatures and brief descriptions of what was discussed. If there’s a topic you're curious about that I haven’t included here, feel free to send me an ask. Finally, because the sound quality isn’t the best and he’s sitting back from the camera, there were a few words here and there that I had trouble making out. Sorry in advance!

Introduction & Greeting

Yes, hello! This is actor Kim Beom. And I’m Lee Rang. Before the final episode, before the final week’s broadcast, I wanted to greet you all directly, so I’ve appeared like this dressed as Lee Rang. And...right now you can think of me as someone somewhere in between Kim Beom and Lee Rang. 

To be honest, there’s no decided format. I just went and looked up the things you all were curious about on my own. It could be a bit incoherent, but I hope you’ll enjoy watching. Also, I think there are fans who are worrying how I’ll do a LIVE, since I don’t really know how to, and I haven’t even been on Instagram that long, but actually, in order to do this, I spent the weekend writing the script myself (holding up his cue cards). I wrote the script myself. Actually, yesterday I also had a meeting about how to do an InstaLive, so I hope you’ll enjoy watching. 

[0:01:22~0:02:20] Greeting to international fans in English

[I was impressed by his English here. You can tell he isn’t just reading off his cue cards but actually knows what he’s saying by the way he self-corrects.]

[0:03:00(3:30)~0:05:05] Let Rang eat!

[0:05:10~0:08:04] Re: Color of clothing

Ah! There were a ton of comments about clothing color as well. Uh...I also read a lot of comments where you all were analyzing various things. And, well, a certain amount of it was really accurate...I was really thankful and also fascinated to see that it seemed like you all picked up on some of the things I had put thought into. For example, in the early part of the show when I appeared in red clothes, in a suit, of course there was also the fact that I was making an effort to exude the feeling of a villain, but the other piece that I had been thinking of was that, because there were a ton of scenes in the forest, in the forest on the island, I wanted a color that contrasted with green, so I looked for that sort of complementary color. 

Uh...so, for the case of Forest of the Starved, as with wearing red in the forest in the early episodes, I intentionally wore camel colored clothes and such. Uh...and because it was running, because a lot of the scenes in the Forest of the Starved were of us running, for visual purposes, the director proposed that we wear long clothes, so I wore a long trench coat and such. Also, for scenes that involved a lot of CG, we also, from a technical standpoint, for those bits with hyung...we wore a lot of colors excluding blue and green.   

Also, what else is there? Ah! The white clothes. There weren’t many scenes where I wore white clothing, but....very simply, in scenes where I bled (chuckling) so that the blood was easily visible...I wore a white shirt and such. One of the comments I read that really stuck with me was, ‘learned...learned pervert’ (laughing). That I was a learned person. I also had input here, and my stylist team also had the same thought, so....(very quietly) I was called a ‘learned pervert.’ Yes. 

Also...That’s right. A lot of what you all thought was really spot on. So I was also really fascinated and I thought, ‘Wah~ They even notice those sorts of things, I have to prepare even more diligently in the future,’ and for me, personally...from my standpoint as Kim Beom, I think this was the most costume fittings I’ve ever done. I also did a lot of test filming during the fittings. A JDG hyung who I’m close with and who is a photographer did a lot of test filming for me and really helped me a lot in the process of making Lee Rang. Oh, and also, in the process of doing tests for Lee Rang, perhaps because I took a liking to his image, I changed my profile picture for the first time in 10 years. I also changed my signature papers. It’s now Lee Rang, it’s Lee Rang’s image. I want to hurry up and provide you all with signatures too (laughs). Is this how I’m supposed to do this? I don’t know... (chuckles) 

[0:08:05~0:09:12] Re: Movements & gestures 

Ah, and also about movements and gestures and such...you talked especially a lot about things like me sleeping curled into a ball that got broadcast not too long ago. I saw a picture of me curled up asleep put next to an image of a fox sleeping, like this. Yes, that’s correct. From the very beginning I talked about wanting to give off the image of a fox, of a baby fox [glances to his staff] What? Show them? (chuckles) Like this, (does the gesture) sort of curled up sleeping. Foxes all sleep curled up, it turns out. So, there was an image of me curled up sleeping and, it should show up in the final episode, but there’s an image of me sitting curled into myself as well. When I’m sitting curled into a ball, even down to my toes I’m sort of, like this (does the gesture). Sitting like this was also something I did in order to give the impression of a fox. 

Aside from that, in the action sequences as well, if you look closely you can see that while people swing their fists like this, we made gestures, actions, like raking our claws. I think those sorts of things helped to make the character of Lee Rang, and also the gumiho, the other gumihos, so I was also really pleased while doing it. Yes. And I was even more thankful that the viewers picked up on that. 

[0:09:17~0:11:00] Re: Ad libs

The ad libs...for the ad libs as well, many people are asking just how much is ad libbed, especially since Yeon-ie hyung [Lee Dong Wook] is extremely good at ad libs and does them a lot. If you watch the behind the scenes videos and such, you can see the actors acting opposite him being caught off guard a lot. Hyung’s ad libs looked really cool to me, so I actually tried to emulate him a lot, but for that, it’s not possible with just your average [comedic/dramatic] sense. It’s the sense of someone who’s over a thousand years old, so one ad lib I made with the sense of a 600 year old was...there was one that was broadcast not long ago: “I’m warning you~~.” ‘I’m warning you~’ is an ad lib (laughs). 

The original line was...what was the original line again? (checks his cue cards) Ah, well, it was a line to the effect of, ‘don’t make me laugh’ or something like that, but seeing hyung saying ‘I’m warning you,’ I had the thought that it would be good if I teased him, so I was like, ‘I’m warning you~~’ as an ad lib. Also, in the café scene where we met after I returned from nearly dying, the drink hyung gave me was...there was a multi-colored drink, and for that, originally in the script it just said, ‘It’s tasty right? Have some, it’s tasty,’ or something like that, but hyung saying, ‘Have some, it’s rainbow flavored,’ was also hyung’s ad lib. And well, it didn’t appear in the broadcast, but I called it unicorn flavored. I think it was cut from the broadcast because it would have left people wondering ‘has he tried eating unicorn before?’ 

Those sorts of things...I also really learned a lot, I think, while doing them, such as hyung’s ease and whatnot. I was really jealous and he looked really cool. It came up in our lines too, but hyung always looked like he was shining brightly; he looked really cool.  

 [0:11:00~0:12:31] Re: Hyung Lee Dong Wook

To tell you more about hyung, hyung is...while being extremely sensitive, he’s the type to look after the other party in a brusk manner. For me personally, when I was studying and making Lee Rang’s character, I don’t think it would have been possible without hyung’s help. At first, I also...for the first time in a while I wore the clothes of another character and stood before the camera, and until that point I really had a lot of concerns and worries, but hyung gave me advice and really cheered me on a lot from the standpoint of an actor who has walked this path a little farther than me. So he was really a great help, and a source of strength, and whenever we were on set and there was something I didn’t know, I’d go ask hyung. Also, when I was agonizing over something, hyung would come over to me first and ask me if he could help, he was like that. 

And aside from that, the director, and the writer...Actually, Lee Rang’s tails have never appeared on screen, but in any case, Lee Rang should also have nine tails, right? There are nine. I have nine tails, but one of those was given to me by hyung. And one by the director, and one by the writer, and many others besides. Because they gave me tails, I was able to become a gumiho with nine tails, that’s the feeling I get. Yes.

[0:13:06~0:14:03] Re: Lee Rang’s Necklace

Ah! That’s right. There were also people who were curious about this necklace, wondering if this...if this wasn’t symbolic of something. In fact, in the beginning I had also thought that far. I thought of using it to express Lee Rang’s signature or something, so at first when he transformed I had gotten rid of it. Like when I appeared with glasses on (leans forward to show off the necklace better) this. It’s this necklace, but for my first transformation when I appeared with glasses, or...at those times I purposefully removed the necklace, but later on when I, when I transformed into hyung, if I wasn’t wearing it....if I was wearing it! I worried that you all would notice. You’re all extremely observant. Like gumihos. So in the end I decided to just leave this as fashion. 

[Note: This doesn’t fully make sense to me in terms of wearing it or not, but I double-checked and I translated everything exactly as he said it.]

[0:14:02~0:14:53] Re: Transformations

And since we’re on the subject of transformations, I’m always being found out and saying, ‘Ah that damn dress code...’ and such, but, everyone, I’m not being found out. Lee Rang isn’t so foolish and incompetent. Conversely, in order to mess with people more, he’s intentionally giving them a hint. So he’s being like... ‘Even if I do this will they not notice? Will they not notice?’ by intentionally giving them a hint with his shoes. And so, for Ji Ah, and for Sajang, that was me intentionally giving them a hint, and in fact wanting them to realize. While being like ‘if you figure this out then I’ll have to mess with you even more,’ I’d then mess with them more. And so, conversely, when I transformed into hyung to fool Sajang, I fooled him perfectly didn’t I? I’m not such an incompetent person as that. 

[0:14:55~0:16:05] Re: Romance 

There are many people who are extremely curious about Lee Rang’s romance as well, but actually, romance [for Rang] didn’t appear in our Tale of the Nine Tailed. Because his love for hyung is so great. And his love for Yoo Ri was also somewhat different from the love between a man and a woman. It was a familial love, and also a love that came from wanting to fill the void, it was that sort of love. Uh....I saw someone say something like this. Mm...when Yeon-ie hyung falls in love it’s to this extent, but if Rang-ie, who is a rule-breaker, who ignores all the rules, were to fall in love, the earth would probably have been destroyed. Or at the very least, Korea would have been destroyed. haha Someone said that, but I think that probably would have been the case. If he had directed his love not at his hyung but at a woman, because Rang-ie isn’t afraid of his hyung, or the afterlife, or even hell, I feel like he would have had that sort of a [world-ending] romance. 

[0:16:48~0:17:37] Re: Lee Rang’s fortune (wealth)

[0:17:38~0:18:19] [Reading and responding briefly to live comments]

[0:18:32~0:19:24] Q: Would Lee Rang have dreamed of being either a full fox or a full human?

Ah...this was a very sad question. [Rang is] a half-human, half-supernatural, but would he have dreamed of being a full gumiho, would he have dreamed of being a full human? There was talk to that effect. Uh...I think Rang-ie wouldn’t have wanted to be either. On the supernatural side as well, because he’s a half-supernatural...I don’t imagine he’d have been welcomed, and among humans, because he has supernatural blood, we also saw him being mistreated a lot. But then, amongst all of that, my one and only source of support was my hyung. And I think that’s why [Rang] was so obsessed with his hyung. I think he probably wouldn’t have wanted to belong to either side. Because he’s that sort of free spirit. Yes, that’s what I think. 

[0:19:30~0:19:58] Re: Lee Rang’s Favorite Food

Q: If Lee Rang had a favorite food like Lee Yeon’s mint chocolate, what would it be?

His favorite food is, you all may already know this, but it’s alcohol. Rang was always together with alcohol, and he was a character who goes well with alcohol. Somehow...it was like how lonely people reach for alcohol. I think it would have been that sort of feeling. It always kept him company, in place of his hyung (chuckles). That sort of, that sort of...his favorite food is alcohol, yes. 

[0:20:02~0:20:50] Re: Favorite fan comments/Not a baby 

[0:21:00~0:21:46] Q: Spicy fox [i.e. fox with an attitude/a bite] vs. baby fox?

[0:21:47~0:0:22:39] Q: The most dangerous gumiho or the most endangered gumiho?

[0:22:45~0:23:34] Q: Favorite Lee Rang look/style?

[0:23:41~0:25:10] Q: Good vs Evil?

Ah, and, there was also a question about what percent of good versus evil exists inside of me, but...I also really thought hard about it when I received this question. Rang-ie was a very kind child when he was young, who couldn’t even pick a flower...he was a kind child who couldn’t even kill a bug, but then, that sort of...should I call it societal evil? Due to some misunderstandings and...painful times, he gradually begins to ‘live devoting himself to evil,’ there’s that expression, in Korea. I think all of that evil would have seeped into him. So while at first he would have been 80-90% good, even so...mm~ at 51 to 49%, wouldn’t 51% of him be good? That slight bit that he tries not to lose. Because evil, because the side of evil kept pulling at me, whether that be Imoogi, or Sajang, unavoidably evil would have pulled at me, but...I get the sense that Rang-ie, to the very end, wouldn’t have given up the good in him...Nn? [Staff catches his eye] Yes, so that’s why it’s (???)* hehehe Oh? (???)* Sorry. Hahaha Ah, sorry. I just startled myself as well. [Pointing at his staff] Your face has turned red!

[Note: The expression he uses for ‘to the end’ here could either be used literally or figuratively. So obviously he accidentally gave a huge spoiler, but if he - or rather, his staff - hadn’t reacted so much it might have just been glossed over. Also, I think he’s using terms associated with a video game here which is why I’m having trouble parsing the blanks.]

[0:25:12~0:26:56] Kim Beom reminisces about his time with TotNT

[0:27:05~0:27:43] Re: Stickers

Ah! There was also talk about the stickers. Hahaha Uh...for the stickers as well, of course, in the script it was simply expressed as, ‘Rang, who is asleep covered in stickers,’ but actually, what stickers got stuck where was something that I decided myself. So I tried sticking a lightning bolt to my forehead, and, I’m not sure if it was visible in the broadcast, but the earring (the star on his ear) was a reference to the character So Yi Jeong that I played back in the day [Note: this is a reference to his character in Boys Over Flowers (2009)]. Well, I’m the type to overthink things like that, so hehe. I think a lot. 

[0:27:45~0:28:56] Re: Soo Oh

[0:29:12~0:30:00] Q: Are you more of an older or younger brother type?

For that question...whether that question was a question for Kim Beom or for Lee Rang, I actually wasn’t sure, but someone asked, ‘Are you someone who is suited to being an older brother or someone who is suited to being a younger brother?’ Uh....to answer as Rang, Rang is of course more suited to being a younger brother, it fits his natural tendencies. That Kim Beom guy,* I mean, Kim Beom is... (chuckling under his breath) ‘that Kim Beom guy’ what am I saying? Kim Beom is...more suited to being an older brother, he has that aptitude, that inclination I think. 

[*Note: When said this I burst out laughing. The literal expression is, ‘that chingu (friend) called Kim Beom,’ and it’s just not a way that you would ever refer to yourself. He said he was somewhere in between Lee Rang and Kim Beom, and it really feels like that here haha]

[0:30:12~0:31:10] Re: Nicknames

And, well....If Lee Rang, if there is a nickname that Rang-ie likes or a nickname that remained with him [what would that be]? A whole lot of people also wrote to me with that question. The overseas fans have also been calling me ‘baby fox’ (said in English), and that was really amusing. Uh...also, well, ‘baby fox’ (in Korean), and things like ***** [Note: he censored himself here so I’m not actually sure what he said other than that it’s rude haha], I really had a lot of fun seeing them. Like, these people who, if I met them in real life, would say, ‘Spare me!’ and run away were treating me like a baby... (nodding to himself). It was funny (chuckles). 

[Reading the chat] People keep commenting ‘baby fox’ (in English) hahaha

And so I also, later on....Somehow, at first I thought, ‘Huh?’, but then later on it was something that really made me feel good...(nodding) It was funny. (chuckles)

[0:33:30~0:33:57] Re: Mountain God Lee Rang?

Q: If Lee Rang ever became a mountain god, what sort of world would he have created?

I probably would have made a wonderland for hyung, right? For hyung’s sake alone. So that hyung could enjoy himself, I would have tried making this and that....to make hyung smile once. I feel like that’s what I would have done, and because of that, because [Rang is] that sort of simple guy, he probably wouldn’t have become a mountain god, right? I’m good being a mountain god’s younger brother...

[0:33:58~0:34:54] Re: Rang’s name

Also, Ah~ things related to Rang’s name, too. To my knowledge, the name ‘Rang’ was bestowed by his hyung. So originally he was a half-human, half-supernatural who didn’t even have a name, who was also abandoned by his family. He had been lonely like that, so it was probably hyung who gave it to him. The name ‘Rang’ means ‘shining.’ Most likely, at that time, wouldn’t he have really cried a whole lot? From happiness. Seeing as he continued using the name Rang, seeing as he continued using it for 600 years. If he had disliked it, he probably would have changed it, so he really took a liking to it. It was probably a happy time where he thought, ‘Now I too have a name~’ That’s right. 

[0:35:11~0:36:39] Re: Spin-off

Ah! And also, there was the spin-off to talk about, right? In another world, in a slightly wider world, uh...there was a spin-off telling my story, and to be honest it was an extremely new attempt, and I also, at first, I approached it as an answer and a gift in response to all of the love that so many people had sent. Uh...thanks to that, I think it was nice that I was able to show you Lee Rang from another point of view, and I actually worried about it a great deal. 

Uh...Rather than our existing team, another spin-off team did the filming for us, and so I worried a lot. Because it wasn’t our team. But, they very diligently, and well...shot it for us. And for me, because many people supported us, thankfully, compared to what I had been worried about, I think it worked out well. Actually, when I was really at the end of my rope from worrying so much, I called hyung [Lee Dong Wook] from set, from the spin-off set, to say that I was worried, and I also met up with him in person, and the director [Kang Shin Ho], I told him I was worried. In the off chance that the fans of the Tale of the Nine Tailed main series might hate it, I was really very worried. But hyung really comforted me a lot, and told me it was cool, so that made me feel really good. 

[0:36:41~0:37:28] Re: Yoo Ri (Kim Yong Ji)

Also...I have to talk about Yoo Ri too, don’t I? Our Yoo Ri. Our Yoo Ri...from the very first time I met her she seemed like Yoo Ri. She was really really like a gumiho, like a fox. Like someone of mixed race. In reality, too, we met up recently and were eating together when she told me this. People from Russia are actually sending her DMs, she said. Asking if she’s really a mixed-blood Russian. Hearing that was so funny that I remember we both burst out laughing. But to that extent Yoo Ri [Kim Yong Ji] is that much like Yoo Ri, even when you see her in real life. And also, because she became such a perfect Yoo Ri when we were working, from the very beginning she was very reliable to film with, and I think I was also really able to immerse myself while filming. 

[0:37:29~0:38:01] Re: Shin Joo (Hwang Hee)

And also, Shin Joo hyung, too. Actually...I didn’t have that many scenes in common with Shin Joo, but we became so close on set that later on - ah! Actually it’ll probably appear in tomorrow’s episode. Me and hyung [Hwang Hee] (catches the staff’s eye, raises his eyebrows, and then censors himself).....have a scene together, and you’ll probably get to see a very different Lee Rang, a very cheerful, uh...Lee Rang will appear, so I hope you enjoy watching it. 

[0:38:31~0:40:00] Re: CG

Ah, and also, we can’t not talk about the CG. Because, in a sense, it was one of the biggest aspects of our genre, from the first time we started filming we did a whole lot of tests. I think, in any case, we worried that those who see a lot of (computer graphics? - sorry, I’m actually unsure of this word) would feel that something was off, so we tried once using actual contact lenses, and also tried using actual (physical) tails. And for things like the Imoogi special effects makeup, it was a combination of makeup and CG that came to be through the help of truly a lot of people. My eye, and also hyung’s tails, and our abilities, Imoogi’s skin. I’d like to take the opportunity here to thank everyone involved once again. For giving me such a cool eye. I also, while watching the broadcast, was like, ‘Wah!’ 

Hm... also, I think my only having one eye that changed was probably the director’s idea. Because I’m a half-blood, in any case, his opinion was that it would be nice if only one eye changed, so I was able to have a really cool eye (leans close to the screen with a wild Lee Rang smile and then sits back chucking). It would be nice if it changed, but I’m unable to change my eye by myself (chuckles).

[0:40:05~0:42:00] Re: Stunts/action sequences

And our stunt team, our action team as well. We can’t not talk about them. I’m reminded of the first time, the times we went to action school to practice martial arts. From when we first began action practice, I would coordinate the timing with hyung [Lee Dong Wook] and we would go and practice together. So from the beginning, until we had created the action that would suit our characters, we went several several times for several hours at a time to practice. And then on set, they created things far beyond what we had practiced for us, so our action team really worked very hard as well, and the agwi and such that you saw...for many of those, our staff played all those roles for us. They really had it extremely hard, uh...yes. The (???) director, the (???)* director, and many stunt and action hyungs, all worked very hard. Hyung [Lee Dong Wook] also talked about this during our press conference, but they really worked very hard. On hot days, in the Forest of the Starved, they nearly....and they gave a very impassioned performance, so I was also able to immerse myself so the filming went well.

Mm....To be honest, I’m the type who really likes action, but the gumiho action this time, uh... (nods to himself). There were many stunts that appeared that were at a level beyond what I could have imagined, so while I enjoyed doing them, there were aspects that were difficult too, but when I saw how I appeared in the broadcast, I was very satisfied, and...because [the fans] really liked our sibling action scenes, it made me feel good. 

[*Note: Sorry, because he’s talking half under his breath here I’m actually having trouble making out which directors he’s referring to.]

[0:42:05~0:43:38] Re: Crying scenes

You asked me if having so many crying scenes wasn’t taxing, but...I know, right? More than I thought, more than the Rang that I had originally pictured, [he] was actually quite a crybaby. There were many more crying scenes than I had thought there would be, and depending on how you look at it, it feels like maybe I cried nearly as much as Ji Ah....I get the sense that because [Rang] is a guy who carries a lot of pain and sadness, he had a lot of tears. And also, because I had to cry in a way that was Rang-like, at first I was like, ‘How should I cry? In what manner do I have to shed tears?’ but once the camera started filming...I felt like they were Rang’s own emotions, so. Yes. 

If I think of hyung [Lee Dong Wook], actually, even now I get really choked up. So, when I, myself, Kim Beom, had a photo shoot recently, the topic of hyung came up in the course of the interview and I froze for a second because I nearly started crying, that also happened...

And then on set when I gave my final thoughts upon wrapping filming, I still somehow had many of Rang’s emotions left over, so I...seeing me crying, hyung said, ‘Are you going through puberty?’ hahaha, I have memory of him saying things like that to make me laugh as well. 

[Note: Kim Beom is referring to his photoshoot and interview with Elle Korea. I translated a good bit of it here.]

[0:43:40~0:45:06] Q: A character you’d like to try transforming into?

Also...I, well, hyung also transformed once, but for me because it’s one of my core talents, and because gumihos are the sort of character to do that, I received the question of whether there isn’t a character I wouldn’t like to try transforming into other than the ones that appeared in the drama. Honestly, if I was Lee Rang, I probably would have transformed into Ji Ah and tried to break her [and hyung] apart. Mm....I would have really hated transforming into Ji Ah but, uh...in order to separate her from hyung, and also, out of jealousy, due to his wish that [his hyung] wouldn’t fall in love with her again, out of love for his brother, he would have transformed into Ji Ah...isn’t that originally what gumihos are like?

However, because in that case then Ji Ah [Jo Bo Ah] will have to act that out again, probably (chuckles)...next time, if there’s ever an opportunity, I’ll transform into Ji Ah and... (starts making finger hearts without finishing his sentence) yes. I would like to show that to you all. 

[Reading the live chat] Right? People are asking me if I’m a genius. If it was Lee Rang, Lee Rang should have to transformed into Ji Ah, right? I also honestly just surprised myself by thinking of it just now. 

[0:45:14~0:46:04 ] Thoughts before the final episode

[0:46:24~0:47:28] Re: Charades with Imoogi (Lee Tae Ri)

[0:47:30~0:48:15] Re: Director Kang Shin Hyo

[0:49:26~0:50:21] Q: Memorable Lines & Scenes

Also...about the lines. Memorable lines or memorable scenes, you’re asking a lot about these sorts of things, but I truly haven’t forgotten a single scene I was in; I remember all of them. Because the script, and the characters, and the scenarios...and the scenes were all made so so well. 

Actually...well, at the beginning, when you see me fighting, bickering, with hyung, and I say ‘Didn’t you miss me?’ this line, and also...that sort of line: ‘I’m dying of anticipation.’ There were these sorts of lines as well. Uh...also, my lines that I say to Yoo Ri too. Like...‘Why would you shed tears because of me? Don’t make your life into a melodrama.’ There were these sorts of lines as well. 

[0:50:24~0:51:52] Re: Azaleas

[0:51:54~0:52:26] Re: Gumiho teleportation 

[0:52:27~0:54:00] Re: Rang’s throwing axes

[0:54:32~0:55:11] Re: Dokdo shrimp

[0:55:13~0:55:59] Q: Memorable filming location?

[0:56:00~0:5?:??] Re: Last episodes

[0:56:45~0:57:10] Q: Do you watch the original broadcast?

[0:57:12~End] Closing remarks

[oopcio]

henlo! I'm asking from my main but i have an ask for the arcana. How would the Main 6 react to an MC that's a Fae, like how would they see them as a person? would they trust them? I'd like to know! you don't have to do this immediately, you can take your time! - alegna-thefool

hhhhhhhh oh please yes this is so adorable tysm!!!! 💖💕💜✨🥰✨💜💕💖

ps i’m picturing this as the fae from wiccan/pagan folklore 👉🏻👈🏻

asra:

his first impression is wary, since he’s been told all his life that the fae aren’t always as friendly and kind as they seem, and that they cannot be held to human standards. maybe it started out as something as simple as losing a charm he uses often, only to find it a few days later in the backroom where he reads cards, a place he often visits. he had to be cautious while expressing his thankfulness, seeing as he didn’t want to unknowingly put himself in a contract with the fae. however, the first time he actually found you, looking around the shop at all of the potions and the crystals, his heart stopped. he spent days and weeks talking to you about all the stuff in his shop. “yes, i actually made the cards myself! ah, you really think so? why, thank you!” it was only a matter of time before he found himself thinking that maybe he could trust you, if none of the other fae. it was quite obvious to him that you weren’t like the others, you were not looking to make contracts and gather offers, you were interested in all the things that decorated the store. soon enough he wasn’t thinking of you as a fae he had to pick his words carefully around, you were just another person intrigued in his knowledge of spells and tarot. he even started to leave you offerings, even if you explained you didn’t need/want them. he’d put cute little shells, small flowers, pretty rocks, tiny crystals, pretty much anything that was small and reminded him of you. “yes! i saw this when i visited the market the other day, and i thought it’d look so adorable on your offering table. oh, please, just accept it! i got it just for you.” sure, he’d went against everything he was ever told about the fae, but he quickly realized he had no regrets about doing so, and he’d do it all over again if he had the choice.

nadia:

nadia is the type of cautious that you’re unaware of. she’s so careful in displaying her apprehension that she does it in a way you wouldn’t notice, and, the way she sees it, anything other than such would seem rude. “milady! someone is in the palace!” a servant would alert her, tension in all points of their body, proceeding to tell her that they were spotted heading into her quarters. she advised them to calm down and sent them away, claiming she’d handle it. she headed into the baths, and, sure enough, there you were, letting your legs dangle in the water as you take in the view. her intuition had immediately told her that you were no threat. in fact, she knew exactly what you were as soon as your eyes met. “i can’t seem to recall having business with anyone in my private bath,” she smiled, watching as you stride towards her. you were definitely charming, but that was to be expected. she easily loosened her stance, with her newfound peace of mind. you grab her hand gently and place a jade necklace into it. you explain that this was merely a impromptu visit, as you were here to return the necklace that rightfully belonged to her. all the other fae were far too scared to come return the pendant once they had realized that what they’d taken belonged to the countess, so you came in their stead. needless to say, nadia began to trust you almost immediately, and she even let you clasp the necklace around her, as well. “why, thank you. i apologize for all the commotion you must have faced as you tried to come into my quarters.” you told her it was certainly no trouble at all, and that it was all worth it for this moment. “i’m glad to hear that this feeling is mutual. after all, i quite enjoy your company. shall i leave offerings for you, should you wish to return?” no matter what you tell her, it will become a daily routine to have her servants place only the finest jewelry and gems as offerings for you. even if you ask for something simple, she will insist on spoiling you. “well, i’d like for you to know that you’re welcome in my quarters at any time,” she adds, the faintest blush covering her cheeks.

julian:

he’s been quite interested in things like the fae and whatnot ever since mazelinka would mention them when he was younger, and it really sparked again when asra would sometimes make a passing comment about them when they used to work together. but the poor thing is oblivious, so when his pens and notebooks start to disappear and show up again, only a few days later, at a place he frequently went to, he figured it was just himself simply misplacing his belongings and forgetting where he put them. it was nothing too worrying. well, not until he seen somebody with an incredible energy surrounding them in his office, about to place one of his medical notebooks in his drawer. “who are you? how did you get in here?” but it didn’t take long for the dots to connect in his mind - in fact, it was almost like the moment he seen your eyes, he knew what you were. but, he still had to be careful; that much he knew. you held up the notebook, lightly waving it around in answer. he let out a quiet ‘oh’ and simply took a seat, waiting with his hands outstretched for the book. you pull it back and watch all the blood rush to his face, patiently waiting for you to give it to him and hoping that you don’t open it. all hope was quickly lost, though. you open it in search for one specific page, and once you find it, you show it to him with a proud, mischievous grin. it was a drawing of a fairy, albeit not correct at all, with plenty of notes and scribbles. there was a lot of care on this page, especially, you noticed. “h-hey! i know what you’re trying to imply, but!... i’ll have you know that is... a medical... diagram...” each word got quieter and quieter, and eventually, he gave up on the explanation. you simply giggled and placed the book back in his hands, done with the teasing. “how am i supposed to make a diagram if i didn’t know what a fairy looked like until now?” he huffs, a blush spreading over his cheeks to the tips of his ears. you grin, leaning back against the wall as you seat yourself on his desk and offer to help him with his diagram. and, well, it ended up looking more like you than a general fae. hey! it was the betterment of science and medicine... and it also didn’t hurt to have you keep coming in for health check-ups.

muriel:

he first found a fairy ring in the forest, not too far from his hut, but he knew far better than to step foot inside of it. however, just because he knew better, didn’t mean he couldn’t accidentally stumble into it... hey, don’t look like that! it wasn’t his fault! he didn’t mean to! he just had a misstep! what he didn’t expect - never in a million years, in fact - was to come home one day (from trying to set protections against the fae, ironically) and find a fae in his hut. even when inanna tried to walk forward to greet this being (which, she never did, by the way), he was cautious. “why are you in my hut,” he would ask, doing anything and everything he could to avoid your eyes. you’d explain to him that you come to try and help him set protections against the other fae, since you knew how they could be and how to properly do so. a whole evening later, spent putting up the protections and complimenting his handiwork around the hut just to see how adorably flustered he’d get. then he realized it’d be a real shame if he had just put up a protection against you, especially with your help, but how could he say that in a way that wasn’t weird? “..........hey, um......... does this keep you out, too?..........” his eyes quickly widened. “not that i want to keep you out!.....” he huffed, getting all flushed again, and you smiled. you explained that if he wanted, he could set up a small offering table for you. you wouldn’t ask for much, and you didn’t want to trouble him. you just didn’t want this to be the last time your paths crossed. and then began a tradition! each day he’d place a small flower or blade of grass he found on a table inside the den of the hut, and when you came around, you’d sometimes help him place protections or even weave flower crowns with him. sure, he acted like he absolutely hated it, and he’d cringe when you placed the forget-me-nots on his head, but he’d always get flushed and turn his head to hide the smile that threatened to creep up on his lips. you even made inanna one to match with muriel!

portia:

she definitely had no prior knowledge about the fae. she thought they were just made up, but she was familiar with the little fairy houses some people put in their gardens, and she thought that was just so cute! even pepi might enjoy it, so, when she made one, she thought nothing of it. but as soon as she found a fae, a real one, she was caught waaay off guard. because she didn’t know anything other than the made up bits, she will definitely ask a lot of questions. “so, can you really fly around? do you carry little pouches of fairy dust around with you? ooh! can you put some on my garden?” you explain to her, telling her what is myth and what is fact. while you’re at it, you cautiously (and politely) warn her of the dangers of attracting forces you don’t know a lot about, and she takes the information to heart. “i swear on pepi i’ll never do something so silly again!” she beams at you when you do offer to help her with her garden, and you even make it a bit of a routine. you playfully take turns pushing flowers in each other’s hair until it seems there are more flowers than hair. she takes great care of the fairy house from this point on, decorating it with little rocks and plants in case you ever want to stay there. if you ever tell her, though, that it might be better if she takes it down so none of the other fae can take advantage of her kindness, she will listen to you and take it down as soon as possible. she greatly enjoys your company and soon enough, you spend many mornings drinking tea together in the cottage while the both of you cuddle and pet pepi.

lucio:

“what do you MEAN my exotic golden spoons and forks are gone?! i had them RIGHT HERE!!!” he notices that his priceless belongings keep going missing and he blames it on the servants at first, only to find them a few days later. still doesn’t stop him from damning everyone and everything he comes into contact, though. “where is my EYELINER?!” he shrieks, only to find an ethereal looking being in his quarters, placing his stolen goods back on his dresser. they look back and smile, quickly apologizing for their friends who seem to get a kick out of taking his belongings (but, like, who doesn’t?). the absolute charm and the energy this being carries has him literally swooning, bending over backwards to insist it was no trouble at all. “oh don’t worry!!! when you’re this charming you can get away with sneaking into my room anyday.” he takes great interest in the fact that there is what is known as a ‘fae’ in his room, a term he’s only heard a handful of times in stories growing up, as he’s roamed here and there. expect many questions coming your way. “do you have wings?! can you make yourself small? like, the size of my pinky?!” he’d definitely start to leave offerings of lots of gold and expensive things, even if you asked for something simple, but he’d always make note that it was for you only. he’s definitely angered the other fae by now, though. you better prepare him for many misfortunes.

(a/n: woa these ended up coming out really long, sorry!!!! i really enjoyed writing these, esp muriels 👉🏻👈🏻 hope you don’t mind!!!)

- jiah 💖

[sukarabia]

Ruggie x Sky - How Pretty

Because I’m a sucker for festival dates, after all T_T

Sky let out a dejected sigh as she walked through the festival stalls. Everywhere she looked were couples, friend groups, or families, all having fun: yet here she was, ruminating as she hung her head low. Night Raven College was celebrating one of its anniversaries, and truly, she couldn’t even remember what that celebration was for. But what she knew is that she messed up, big, big time.

--

“Oi, Sky- you sure about this? That box’s kinda heavy, isn’t it?” Ace looked dubious as he saw Sky pick up a box full of paint tins.

“Ace, what do you take me for? Carrying such a small box will be a piece of cake for me.”

She regretted those words as soon as they left her mouth. What was even in that box? Sky was told it was only 'a few’ paint tins meant to help the art club design posters, but the box was a lot heavier than she had thought. Nevertheless, her pride wouldn’t let her admit that she couldn’t carry it- so off she went, legs wobbling. But seriously- why was that box so big? She couldn’t even see the ground, and-

“Wah- Sky, careful!”

“Huh?”

As soon as she heard Ace’s voice, Sky looked up- only to feel herself lose balance on the slippery ground. Her brain couldn’t process what had happened- but in the span of a few seconds, she landed on the ground, the box’s content shattered on the floor, and saw... someone drenched in paint?

“Sky, you oka-” Ace rushed over before stopping. “Who- WAH? Dorm Leader Riddle???”

“R-Rosehearts-senpai?” Sky’s eyes widened as she heard Ace pronounce his name. But her classmate was right- right in front of her was Riddle, completely drenched in green paint.

“.....”

Riddle stood there for a second, seemingly processing what just happened. Ace and Sky, frozen in fear, waited for him to explode- but to their surprise, Riddle just sighed and wiped some paint off his face. His eyes seemed to say, not surprised.... as he spoke to Sky:

“Sky, I think it’s better if you don’t handle the manual work- as a matter of fact, I think it’s better if you walk around the festival for now.”

--

Sky felt tears prickle her eyes as she recalled the events. Ah, seriously, how could she embarrass herself that badly? Ace tried to cheer her up, “Do you not realise how lucky you are?? It would have been off with your head for me!!”, but even her friend’s attempts at recomforting her felt futile as she remembered the expression on Riddle’s face.

It’s not like I was expecting anything from you, anyway. It was the exact expression everyone always looked at her with. Especially him. It felt that as time passed, the distance between them was growing further and further- she was trying her best, but no matter what she did, things always ended up going south. Would she always remain the little black duck of the family? Lost in her thoughts, Sky did not notice the silhouette behind her, until she felt a hand on her shoulder-

“Kyaaah!! what-” Sky jumped, startled, until she recognised the owner of the hand. “Ruggie?? You scared me!”

“I could say the same thing, y’know! What’s up with ya? I tried callin’ you, but you just wouldn’t pick up. What are ya doin’ all alone?”

“Ruggie....”

“Huh? Why are you crying? Wait, wait, explain-”

--

“... So that’s what happened, huh.”

“Ugh... Seriously, so embarrassing... I wanna hide in a hole....” Sky sighed, sitting on a bench, a little further from the festival.

“But aren’t ya happy? That he didn’t get mad, I mean?”

“Of course not!! If he doesn’t get upset, that means he was totally expecting it!!” Sky eyes teared up again. “I tried so hard to build a reputation, but now it feels like everyone knows how useless I am, that they don’t even have expectations for me anymore....”

Ruggie looked at the young girl next to him. Slowly, he reached his hand to pat her head, looking away as she started sobbing. The laughter and lights from the festival in the distance seemed almost cruel as Sky struggled to catch her breath. Why do things never go as planned?

“... Ain’t that better, though?”

“Huh?” Surprised, her tears stopped as she peered over at Ruggie.

“The fact that people know how you truly are, y’know. Doesn’t it feel better, to not have to keep up a front and whatnot?”

“But-”

“No one’s perfect, y’know. Not Jamil, not me- not even Vil-san, or Malleus-san. Everyone goes through hardships ‘n’stuff. Ain’t that normal?” At the mention of Jamil’s name, Sky’s face fell. “We all go through trials, and that’s what life’s all about, doesn’t it? Doesn’t come with a guide book or anythin’.” His eyes met Sky’s. “What just happened, wasn’t that because ya didn’t ask for help? It’s rich comin’ from me, but y’know, asking for help isn’t a bad thing. No one’s gonna judge you for that, m’kay?”

Sky let out a small hum as she diverted her attention back to the stall. The lights seemed even stronger reflected in her teary eyes, and Ruggie was almost enchanted by the sight. Shaking his head, he snapped out of it, and stood up. Startled, Sky looked at him with a surprised expression as Ruggie extended his hand to her.

“Now, what d’ya say about us visiting the festival? Might as well, right? Shishishi ~”

--

“Waaah, Ruggie, you’re amazing!!!”

Sky marvelled over Ruggie’s goldfish scooping skills, as the young hyena managed to catch another 3 goldfishes at once. The Octavinelle student responsible for the stand seemed to grow more and more uneasy as his goldfish stock began to shrivel. Seriously, how is that guy so good at this...?

“Heh, that’s nothin’ for me, y’know ~” Ruggie’s ears wiggled, obviously delighted by the praise. “In my hometown, we often go fishin’, and stuff.”

“Fishing? But... not for goldfishes, right?” Sky looked caught off-guard. Eating goldfishes...? Seeing her expression, Ruggie could not resist teasing her.

“Shishishi, of course we did. Goldfishes are delicious, y’know? Want me to cook them for you later?”

“H-huh? No!!!! You shouldn’t eat goldfishes!! Look how adorable they are!!!” Instinctively, Sky protectively held her goldfish to her chest. Ruggie couldn’t help but laugh at her innocence.

“Shishishi, you believe me way too easily ~” but Sky’s expression remained full of suspicion. “... Oi, what d’ya take me for... Why would I eat goldfishes, there’s barely any nutrients in them, y’know.”

“.. Pff... Hahaha... Ruggie, you’re seriously so weird.” It was Ruggie’s turn to get caught off-guard. Sky finally looked like she was back to normal, and he couldn’t help but slightly blush at her smiling face.

“.. Ah, that’s right. Wanna go to another stand?” He tried changing the subject, looking away to hide his rosy cheeks.

“Ah- I completely forgot about it!” Sky jerked up, startling Ruggie in the process. “Ignihyde are doing a carabine stand- I heard Mayu sewed cute plushies as prizes, I wanna go!!”

--

“Aaah ~ that was fun....” Sky sighed as she sat on a bench near to another stall.

“Sure was. Didn’t know those Ignihyde guys designed a whole zombie-style shootin’ game... Kinda felt off with the whole festival theme, but it was fun ~” Ruggie leaned back on the bench, stretching as he drank a can of fresh coke.

“Ah... We walked for so long, I’m super thirsty now...”

“Mh? Wanna drink mine?”

“Huh?” Sky blushed as her eyes widened. “N-No way! That’s basically an indirect kiss!!!”

“An indirect ki-” Ruggie looked caught off guard, before switching to a grin, scooting closer to Sky. “Shishishi, if that’s the first thing ya thought about, must’ve been on yer mind, hasn’t it? ~”

“W-??? No, of course not!!!” Sky got up, as red as a tomato. “I-I’ll go get my own, you stay here!!!”

“Want me to-”

“No!!!! I don’t need you to come!!! You stay here!!!”

The young girl stormed off, ears flaming as Ruggie let out a small laughter. Man, was he glad to finally see her acting like her usual self again. Jamil’s Overblot really affected her, after all: for a few weeks, she barely smiled, sighing and looking dejected whenever she was alone. Ruggie had been seriously worried about her- she really took her vice dorm head’s ob personally, and had avoided all social interactions for a while. But a month after, it finally seemed like she was regaining hope. Aah ~ how troublesome... But I’m glad. He thought, watching over Sky as she pondered over which drink to buy.

“- Hey, isn’t that Gray-senpai lil’ sis?”

“Ah, Sky Cymatilis, right? Yeah, heard about her.”

“She’s kinda cute, isn’t she? Man, they’re really do look alike.”

“Nah, leave it, wouldn’t bother. They’re like night and day.”

Ruggie snapped out of his thoughts as he overheard two RSA students walk past. Were they talking about Sky? Little sister? Sky never really talked about her family, but Ruggie remembered overhearing Sky and Ace complain about older siblings. What that ‘Gray-senpai’ her older brother? And what was that last comment about?

“Alright, I’m back!!!”

“Ah, Sky, welcome back. What did ya get?”

“This cool drink from the Mostro Lounge stall, they had so many flavours!”

“I see, I see ~” Ruggie sipped on his drink absentmindedly, before turning to the girl next to him. “... Hey, Sky. Got any siblings?”

“H-huh? S-siblings?” Sky expression looked like she had just swallowed salt. “A-ah.. Well... I do... K-kinda... An older brother...”

Ruggie hummed a small ah, I see, as he finished his drink. Sky’s reaction told him what he wanted- that it was a sensitive subject all right, so he chose not to pry about it further. She’d tell him about it in due time, probably. On the other hand, Sky seemed preoccupied as she twirled the drink in her hand. Siblings, huh.... After a few minutes of silence, Ruggie plopped a hand on her head.

“Wanna go see fireworks? They should be startin’ soon. I know a perfect spot for that ~”

--

“Waaah, this place is so nice!”

“Heh, of course ~ Savanclaw’s the best place for firework viewin’.”

“Seems like a lot ofstudents thought the same, huh. It’s fuller than I expected.” Sky leaned back on the rock Ruggie chose, considerably higher than the rest. “But it’s a lot comfier than I thought, and we’re going to get such a great view of the fireworks!!”

“Shishishi  ~ Got that right.” Ruggie smiled, turning his head as soon as he heard a loud BANG! “Oh, they’re startin’.”

The two young students remained in silence for a while, in awe of the fireworks. Crowley made sure that NRC’s festival would be more impressive than RSA’s, all the way down to the colours of the fireworks- the green and blue-ish colours filled the night sky, reminiscent of auroras.

“Wow.... The colours are amazing... It really feels like I’m in another country right now....”

“Yeah, they really went all-out with that one, huh.”

The show went on for a few minutes, occasionally accompanied by a bunch of “Ooh”s and “Aah”s as the fireworks depicted the face of the great seven, as well as Crowley’s own mask- which brought a few laughter from the crowd. As a rain of spark came on during the finale, everyone cheered, raising their hands to the sky, entranced by the sight.

“Wow, that is so pretty...” Sky marvelled.

“Yeah, you’re right about that.” But Ruggie hadn’t been watching the fireworks. How could he? All his attention was devoted to watching Sky’s dewy eyes, illuminated by the large-flowered fireworks.

“.... How pretty.”

[chocolatemillkk]

Intensity JS-wip

“We’re dating each other.” Y/N bursts into my room. “Okay? You’re my date.”

“Who-“

“Byron let me in,” she explains before I could ask my question.

“Why-“

“Long story or short?” She plops herself onto my bed and falls back, grabbing a pillow to scream into.

“Is that the short story?” I chuckle as I go back to folding my laundry.

“Long story it is. So you know how going back home for the holidays is always such a pain because my extended family is a pain in the-”

“Yeah-“ I try to get in but she cuts me off.

“And remember I’m always forced to face my ex-the one I dated for two bloody years and who dumped me for my cousin?”

“You’ve mentioned about a million tim-“

“So this year my mum invited that little bitch to ours for Christmas dinner because her parents are travelling the world or some shite and she has no one for Christmas dinner. But here’s the kicker! Turns out she’s still with my ex and they’re engaged now...”

I listen, amused at how fast Y/N zooms through her story. She’s equal parts angry, stressed, and already convinced I would say yes.

“So in order for me to keep the sliver of respect I still have, and not to look like a complete loser who hasn’t held a steady boyfriend since...well...since him. I need to bring a boyfriend home. I thought about bringing home a girlfriend just to freak everyone out-you know...but none of my friends were up for it. They already look at me weird because I do Youtube for a career but-“

“Y/N,” I push my clothes aside and jump onto the bed to push her down. She goes down with a shout and I kneel over her. “Shut up will you? I’ll bloody come as long as I’m back in London by Sunday.”

“Oh you will. Dinner’s Friday and we’re leaving right after!”

“You’re mad you know that?” I shake my head and she delivers a foot to my stomach. I lose my balance and come crashing down onto the bed beside her.

“You’ll see why I’m so mad when I take you home.” Y/N scrubs her eyes.

“I’ll finally ask your mum if she dropped you on your head as a child,” I say, pushing Y/N’s buttons even more. I get the desired response-a string of swear words before she bounces off the bed.

“Now I have to go look for a dress that’ll make me look uh-mazing,” Y/N pauses by my door. “And I’ll pick you up Friday at 3.”

“Alright,” I sit up in bed. “And Y/N?” She turns to look at me, her cheeks flushed and mind whirring, a million miles away. “I don’t think you’re a complete loser.”

I manage to pull her back to the present as she focuses on what I’d just said. She rolls her eyes and sticks up her middle finger before leaving but not before I see the smile grace her face. I lay back down on the bed with the same smile that she never failed to leave me with.

•••

Y/N and I were complicated but at the same time we weren’t. We’d met on New Year’s a few years back and after a flirty night we somehow decided to stay friends. Somewhere along the way we became inseperable. But sometimes I wondered what would have happened that night if I did work up the courage to kiss her like I wanted, or if I asked her out on a date the next time we met instead of asking her if she wanted to join the boys and I for brunch.

Y/N was fierce to the outside world but I knew the softer side of her. The one she allowed me to see after many vulnerable drunk conversations and road trips we often took alone. She was my partner in crime and I was lucky she’d picked me to talk to that New Year’s Eve.

I sit in the passenger’s seat of Y/N eco friendly car-a spot I was so familiar with the seat probably had an imprint in the shape of my bum. Christmas carols play softly through the stereo but I can’t focus because Y/N continues talking through them.

“So not quite a year but almost,” Y/N tries to get our fake history right.

“How about we say we made it official at last New Year’s so it’s easy to remember?” I suggest.

“Oh you’re genius,” she grins a toothy grin. “Yes-oh by the way Josh was telling me about the costumes you ordered for that video? When’s that happening?”

We get side tracked talking about work and by the time we pull up to Y/N’s childhood home, she’s less anxious but its not completely gone. I manage to get her out of the car and hold her her hand as we get to the front door. Her mum opens, trying to hide her shocked expression at my presence but reassuring me she has plenty of food. Y/N’s younger sister barely spares me a glance from her phone, already decided years ago that I was weird after walking in on Y/N and I trying to eat cupcakes without our hands (in all fairness it was for a video). Her dad welcomes me warmly and we’re all sat in the sitting room when the doorbell rings.

“Oh that’s probably Eve and Jim!” Y/N’s mum gets up to get the door.

“Wonderful,” Y/N glances at me and then says something to her sister which sets her off laughing.

Y/N •••

“Y/N,” my cousin sounds scandalized as she observes Joe. “Is this Joe?”

“Yeah,” Joe’s hand circles my waist answering before I could. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“I didn’t know you two were dating,” she eyes our posture and wraps her hands around Jim’s waist. Her fiance. Gross.

Jim greets Joe wearily and glances at me before deciding to concentrate on the Christmas tree. I’m better off without him, I remind myself. Eve and him were a better couple anyway. I had moved on to better things. He wasn’t even that great.

“Yeah we are,” I find my voice. “Joe and I. We’re...in love! Right?”

“Very much,” Joe smiles at me but his eyes are teasing me so I avoid looking into them in case I start laughing again. He made it very hard to stay serious.

“That’s so cute!” Eve says before moving on to greet my sister. I roll my eyes to Joe before we take our seats which happen to be right across from the vacant seats Eve and Jim were going to take. I’m grateful for Joe who wraps his arms around my shoulders and keeps me comforted until dinner. He knows exactly what to do and say to make it believable, even pecking my cheek when Eve asks our first date story which he pulls out of his arse. He deserved an Oscar. I would tell him after.

Joe •••

“So Jim,” I say halfway into dinner. He didn’t speak much but I wanted to know the guy who was Y/N’s firsts. He didn’t seem much her type but I figured there was more under the surface. “What are the plans for the wedding?”

“It’s a summer wedding,” he says slowly. “I thought autumn would be nice but Eve didn’t want to risk bad weather and whatnot.”

“Not just bad weather,” Eve cuts in and begins detailing her wedding plans which Y/N kicks me under the table for starting.

“You see you two going that way?” Jim asks me after a while as Eve continues to explain to Y/N her bridesmaid dress.

“Y/N and me?” I ask, caught off guard.

“Yeah,” Jim laughs, raising an eyebrow. “I can see the way you two look at each other. And she’s a great girl.”

“Yeah...you would know,” It’s easy to slip in my question. “She’s kind of close lipped about what happened with you two...?”

“Really?” Jim glances at Y/N almost like she scared him. “That doesn’t sound like her.”

“Guess not,” I force a laugh. The truth was Y/N went on many rants about how unreliable men were and I knew that was due to Jim, she’d told me vaguely he broke up with her and started dating Eve a few weeks later. But never the details.

“We were young and-“ Jim hesitates and glances at Y/N and then back to me. “She was always a little intense you know? It was just...a little much for me.”

“I think she’s perfectly intense,” I feel myself getting defensive and Jim catches it too.

“Who’re you calling intense?” Y/N says at the same time, her eyes burning...well...intensely.

“Uhm,” Jim shakes his head. “Just talking to Joe-“

“You.” I say. “I was saying I loved your intensity.” Y/N stares at me suspiciously, trying to read whether I was lying or not. “It’s part of your charm.”

“Y/N’s charm is scaring everyone away,” her sister comments and Eve laughs.

“Shut up idiot,” Y/N stares daggers at her sister but she just shrugs.

“Well it’s sort of true,” Eve gloats. “In secondary everyone eventually stopped hanging out with you because you scared them all away.”

“Or maybe it’s because you always bitched about me to anyone who listened,” Y/N bites back but her voice shakes.

“Language,” Y/N’s dad warns.

“Well hey, I’m still here,” I interrupt and grab Y/N’s hand to hold, hoping to change the subject around.

“Yeah that’s cause you’re...weird. Like Y/N.” Her sister eyes me.

“Hey,” Y/N’s mum scolds everyone but I mouth a thanks to her sister and she rolls her eyes. She looked just like Y/N. “Let’s not have this conversation right now please. Eve your plate’s empty would you like seconds?”

“Yeah Eve,” Y/N spits. “Want some sloppy seconds?”

Eve’s mouth drops and Y/N’s parents scold her as her sister giggles.

“So mature,” Eve crosses her arms. “No reason to stay jealous Y/N.”

“Why would I be jealous of pathetic Jim over here.”

“Y/N!” Her mum scolds.

“Y/N you’re-“ Jim starts.

“Shut up!” Y/N cuts Jim off and I almost feel bad for him. “You don’t deserve to talk. Not to my face, in this house.”

“Well you better get over it,” Eve cuts in. “You’ll be seeing a lot of him since we’re getting married and all. He’ll be around for a while.”

“Lucky for you-no competition-your only other available cousin is underage.”

Y/N’s sister’s jaw drops and the table explodes around us. I figure Y/N had taken it too far but she’s already stomping away before I could reach for her. I leave the noisy table and find her exiting the front door. I grab her jacket and make my way outside.

“Do you still like him?” I ask after I hand her her coat. I don’t know why I ask. But it’s suddenly important for me to know.

“Ew gross, Sugg. I thought you knew me better.” Y/N glares at me.

“I do. I’m just wondering why you’re still upset after all these years. You don’t have feelings for him so-“

“I don’t know!” Y/N turns away from me. “I just hate seeing them together. It just hurts! It reminding me every time I do how I was such an idiot, it reminds me of the shitty time I had in secondary, and how Eve always wins at everything. Even my parents take her side over mine even though they clearly see everything she put me through! Jim dumped me because Eve talked bullshit about me all the time and complained to him constantly. He never minded I was so intense but suddenly he was scared away directly into her arms-“

“So fuck him!” I grab her shoulders.

“I already did!” The words fly out of Y/N’s mouth, and she tries to stay angry but her face cracks and suddenly she’s laughing. “Jesus he lost his v-card in the bedroom above from where he sits. I wonder how Eve feels about that.”

I laugh, relieved that Y/N had run out of her rage.

“Y/N,” I tell her. “You’re not scary or a loser. There’s nothing wrong with your job or you intensity. You’re perfect.”

“Is this where we kiss?” Y/N raises her eyebrow.

“No mistletoe,” I look above us.

She rolls her eyes but I glimpse a smile as she looks down. “Want to walk down to my old school? Where nobody liked me?”

“Yeah,” I button my coat and grab her hand. “I’ll beat up all the fake bullies.”

“You don’t have to hold my hand out here,” she looks down at our clasped hands.

“Keeps us warm,” I kiss her forehead and we’re off. She tells me stories from school and I imagine her here walking these streets as a kid. I finally get the full Y/N story by the time we reach the playground. We pause in front of the front entrance and she gazes up at the building. Suddenly, she turns to me and closes her arms around my shoulders, burying her face into my neck.

“I’m sorry for dragging you all the way out here for this shitshow and wasting your Friday.” She says close to my ear. I ignore the shiver that runs through me and wrap my arms around her waist.

“It was fun,” I tell her. “I liked the look on your cousin’s face when you asked her about your sloppy seconds.”

Y/N giggles into my neck before facing me. She grows serious as she scans my face this closely. “I never actually asked anyone else to be my fake date.”

“Hm.” I let the information sink in. “So you wanted to lure me out here all by myself.”

“Sort of,” a mischevious smile plays on her lips. “You got a history lesson out of it.”

“The only one worth paying attention to,” I say just as she tugs my sleeve and is off running towards the staircase leading into the building. She stops at the side, and stands there with her back against it.

“I never asked anyone to be my fake date because I wanted you by my side,” Y/N watches me intensely as she tells me what I already knew, but her confirmation gives me the only push I needed.

“Well,” I step forward, closing the distance between us and her breath catches as she looks up at me. “It’s good. I wouldn’t have wanted any other fake date to be able to do this.”

I lean down and her eyes are already fluttering close as I press my lips to hers and just like everything about her, it’s intense and passionate and entirely electric.

“Why haven’t we done that sooner,” she asks against my lips when we part but my senses are too jumbled to form a sentence. It didn’t matter we hadn’t done it sooner, I pull her into me to kiss her again, it was perfect the way

[winterknight1087]

Flower from the Fae (ch 20)

Chapter Title:  Fairy Parades and Markets

Summary: Virgil likes plants, but when he goes to investigate a plant his friend, Remy, tells him about, he doesn’t exactly check out the plant. Little does he know that the handsome man he meets there is a fairy who is about to challenge the world Virgil knows.

Word Count: 3227

Chapter Warnings: anxiety, Sympathetic Deceit, 

Chapter Pairings: LAMP

AO3 Link      My Writing

A/N: this is chapter 20, so read the first chapter here! 

“You…How… I can’t…” Dee was spluttering at Remy, looking furious. “A fairy told you that they were taking Anx and you were like ‘chill’?”

“I gave Logan my number if they needed to get ahold of me.”

“You let Anx go to the Realm of the Fae!”

“Logan looked shocked that he even agreed to go in the first place.”

“Did you even check to see if Anx agreed to go!?”

“He’s got an iron-forged protection amulet, he’ll be fine.”

“HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?!?”

 ****

 Have I lost my mind? Virgil was really starting to wonder as he found himself standing in front of the line of mushrooms that marked the fairy circle. Gala was in Roman’s arms, calmly purring as if all of this were perfectly normal for her. Logan was giving him a run-down of how the circle would work and what it would feel like, trying to help Virgil prepare for it. Logan made a point not to consider whether the necklace Virgil was wearing would inhibit the magic, as there was no way they were going to ask him to take off the thing that brought him a little mental peace.

“Alright,” Logan said softly. “You can tell us at any point you want to return, but this is the last stop before you cross into our realm. We will make sure that you are back here in your realm with plenty of time before the end of Samhain, which, once again, is sunset November 1st. Are you sure you want to do this, Virgil?”

NO! “Let’s do this.”

Virgil knew he hadn’t drunk enough to be drunk (that was also ignoring the several hours he’s had to sober up), but he was still going to wonder if he had too much to drink because he was stupidly doing this. Being fair to himself, he also didn’t expect this to work, so there wasn’t anything to actually be afraid of… right? He’d step past the mushrooms and nothing would happen. They’d laugh as they couldn’t believe he fell for the joke and he would join them for his own dumbness and everything would be fine!

Still, he took a deep breath and stepped forward. The ground seemed to throw him forward. It reminded him of doing forward flips underwater as he frantically tried to find his balance. When the ground settled, Virgil officially lost balance and fell face-first into a stone floor. He laid there, already wanting to go home and sleep this entire mess off.

“VeeVee! Are you alright?” Patton asked, kneeling next to the man.

Virgil mumbled something into the stone before sitting up. Looking around, he realized he was in some stone building with wide windows showing the sky starting to lighten up. He realized with a start that this looked like pictures he’s seen of those old stone castles. Patton gently helped him to his feet as he tried desperately to convince himself that this was all some huge joke.

Patton carefully looked him over once he was on his feet. “You’ll feel a bit disoriented but otherwise you appear to be fine, Vee.”

“Why don’t we head to my study? It is close by and will offer a place to view the village while he accustoms to the realm.” Logan suggested.

“My study is closer, why didn’t you suggest it?” Roman pouted.

Logan turned to look at the fairy. “Unless you decided to randomly clean your study while we slept yesterday, your study is trashed with crumpled up papers, half-finished projects, and whatever else you use in there scattered on the floor.”

“Sorry, RoRo, but Logan has a point. We don’t want Vee slipping on a stray pencil while he’s a bit disoriented.”

“Uuuuugh, fine!”

With that, the group started down the hall, matching Virgil’s speed. The entire place screamed wealth at him. Along the inner walls were tapestries and statues. Decorative arches even made the otherwise boring stone decorated. Logan started commenting on different things they passed, telling Virgil of the history or significance of a tapestry or statue.

They arrived at Logan’s study and Virgil practically collapsed into the chair Logan offered him. He took note that the study was full of books with a large desk in the center, pretty much what he thought a study of Logan’s would look like. Patton hummed as he got everyone some water. Roman set the kitten in Virgil’s lap before sprawling in another armchair, unconsciously wrapping his red wings around him so he was comfortable. Logan went over to his desk to see that someone had brought him more work with a grimace.

“Well, welcome to Castle de Fae, Vee,” Roman commented.

“Roman, did you not send that agreement off?” Logan asked, looking through the papers on his desk.

Roman pouted. “It’s a holiday, Lo. I’m not forcing some page away from their family to deliver paperwork that is just being submitted for records and whatnot.”

Logan pinched his eyes, knowing that there would be no way to send it off today. “You need to send it off first thing tomorrow. Any longer and you get to deal with the extra paperwork you cause.”

“Don’t mind them,” Patton said, offering Virgil a cup. “They aren’t supposed to be talking work stuff today. How are you feeling, Vee? Less wobbly?”

“Uh…yeah, thanks,” Virgil answered, awkwardly. “Uh, why are we in a castle?”

“When returning from your realm, we normally return to wherever we live. Since the three of us live in the castle, and as it is a huge security breach to have fairies being able to pop into a room without permission, those who arrive in the castle come to a central entryway so guards can monitor who comes and goes.” Logan answered, filing away the paperwork for later.

“You guys live in a castle?”

Virgil noted that Roman had the look Remy called ‘Remus slapped you with a fish’ look as he answered. “You’ve got to be kidding. Not recognizing that we are fae was one thing, but I literally told you who I was. Of course, we live in a castle. Where else would the prince and his partners live?”

How much more was he going to be able to take? “I… I thought you were just one of those people who put more worth on your last name. I didn’t realize it was a title. Oh shit, that means I technically fought a prince. Isn’t that like treason or something? What is even going on? I don’t believe any of this. Magic can’t be real, but how the heck did we randomly travel to a castle and that means it is real and I apparently fought a prince and oh shit Remy is going to kill me when they find out that I went from discovering my crushes were actual fairies to being thrown in some fairy jail all in one night. Oh shit…”

“Virgil, breathe with me,” Patton said, gently.

Roman watched Patton get the purple-haired one to slowly breathe. “Virgil, you’re not getting thrown in some cell. Don’t you remember? I threw my glove at you; therefore, you were in your right to fight me. Relax, you are safe with us, Vee. I swear upon my wings and honor that you are safe with us.”

“Vee, are you OK?” Patton asked softly. “You can always head back if this is too much.”

Please! He can’t take more of this nonsense! Just let him be and pretend this never happened! “No, no. I’m fine. I’m just mentally screaming.”

“We could always go do something normal like my favorite pastime: annoy the authority figure.” Roman offered, grinning.

Logan gave him an unamused look. “Which means either me or your father.”

“Oh come off it, Lo.”

Virgil awkwardly coughed, deciding that he had to suspend his disbelief in all of this, if only for his sanity, at least until he returned home and could properly think. “So, uh… what are we going to be doing, I guess? I figure you lot had some sort of plan when you asked.”

“Well, it’s all with the reminder that you can say no to any of it, but this morning there is a parade to celebrate Samhain. Market will be showing off all sorts of things, so maybe that afterward. After that, we can figure it out.” Patton said, smiling as the kitten screamed at her human to place her on his shoulder.

“Won’t the…uh… the fairies, or what… I mean whoever, notice that I am not exactly a fairy?” Virgil asked, worriedly, but also in disbelief that his anxiety was already adapting to this mess.

“There are witches who attend Samhain festivities with their companion. There is usually a handful of prospective humans attending with a fairy while they see if a deal would be beneficial.” Logan answered. “While I doubt anyone would actually ask, you can just tell them that you are one of the handful of prospective humans.”

Virgil scowled. “You say that as if us humans actually have much of a say.”

“While I will admit that just as with any group, there will be outliers who go against the norms, the fae will generally go out of their way to ensure that the potential companion has their voice in the matter.”

“You keep using companion, but earlier you lot said that you wanted me to join your relationship as your witch…”

Logan nodded. “Yes, we wish you to join us in a romantic sense. The relationship between a fairy and a human does not always have to be of a romantic sort. Plenty of fairies enter a deal with their best friend so that they may see the world together. Some are temporarily formed in part of a real deal, where both receive something once the deal is completed. Just like relationships among beings are complex out there, they are just as complex in this regard as well.”

Virgil pursed his lips, thinking about how screwed he’d be once they forced him into this deal of theirs, as Gala nuzzled in closer to his throat. “Hypothetically, if I do agree to whatever this is, what would happen?”

The three fairies took this question as a good sign however as Logan answered. “Well, it would have little to no effect on you and what you are already capable of. What it would do is allow us to travel past the fairy circle with you.”

“But you three were at the diner and Remy and Emile’s house?”

“Well, on Samhain, we can leave the fairy circles. For our first date, Patton spent a little bit of time exploring various circles and found one within your town, where luck would have it was a restaurant. The circle was crushed, so it was a little harder than normal to maintain our presence, but it was there.” Roman answered.

“Oh,” he shifted, uncertainly with all this information.

Patton glanced at Roman. “So, should we head to the fairgrounds or do you think we should drag your dad out of bed before heading out?”

“Knowing him, he’d be put out if we don’t introduce him to Vee. But, on the other hand, why do I want to go deal with my dad? Let’s go find a good place to watch the parade, so long as Virgil wants to go.”

Just keep agreeing so they don’t get angry, Virge. “Well, who am I to say no to a good parade?”

Patton giggled and dragged Virgil out of his seat, scaring Gala by the sudden movement of her pillow. Pat apologized to Gala but continued to drag her human out the door. Roman grabbed Logan’s hand and quickly followed. The two who were being dragged glanced at each other with an eye roll, accepting their fate from the two energetic ones.

Virgil finally and completely gave up on trying to make sense of any of what he was seeing. He didn’t want to upset the three fairies and if he questioned everything, he would, without a doubt upset them. Still, he decided that was probably the best decision he’s had as he looked around with awe.

Every inch of the place seemed to be touched by what Virgil could only call magic. People were flying like it were no big deal. Strange animals caused the normal kinds of mayhem. There were even little clouds roaming around, watering all of the plants, including a little weed sticking up from the sidewalk.

The parade was almost the same as any other parade Virgil had seen: loud, lots of dancing, feats that even had Logan impressed, and all that. The four of them were constantly handed little things from the people participating. Virgil was the only one who wasn’t properly prepared for all of it, they realized, as Logan and Patton shoved things into their bags and Virgil started to run out of cauldron space.

As Virgil watched, he picked out a bunch of people who didn’t have wings. They also seemed to zone in on him, making sure that he got candy, little prizes, a vial or two of soft silver liquids, one person even handed him a beautiful necklace that had to have been worth hundreds in the human world. Even Gala found herself getting pets, cat treats, and some comments of ‘you’re a pretty familiar, aren’t you?’

Once the parade was over, Roman took Virgil’s elbow (he had too much in his arms and the cauldron) and pulled him to the market. With a small grin, Roman quickly got him a proper bag for all the little prizes. Virgil went pink, but accepted the bag, knowing he wasn’t able to carry everything all day. Once the anxious man took the bag, Roman smiled brightly, before dragging him off to look at everything.

Virgil quickly found himself laden down with even more stuff. If he looked at something longer than thirty seconds, Roman promptly bought it for him, regardless of whether he actually wanted it or not. Virgil noted that he gave Patton and Logan a full minute before doing the same, but they were at least suffering the same fate.

“It’s how I show love, mi amor!” Roman announced when Virgil finally asked, bright red and awkward. “I have little time to spend with my loves so I balance it by spoiling them all! I’ve got the money and it goes to local people who can use it, while I show my love!”

“You don’t need to spoil me, Ro,” Virgil said, softly.

Roman took his hand and gently kissed it. “I don’t need to do anything. It’s what I want to do. Logan shows his love by helping others. Patton loves physical shows of love like hugs or cookies, I show my love with gifts! If it bothers you, I will stop, though. Don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

Once they had visited every stall in the market, they returned to the castle for lunch. Roman was a little nervous as they headed to the dining hall, but he knew his father would love this new partner. Wait, we still haven’t actually asked if he wants to make it official, with or without being our witch, oh well.

“…these are the best though!”

Patton giggled. “Sounds like they’re still splitting their candy.”

The group went to the head of the table where two fairies were in the middle of a staring contest while the smallest of the trio was munching on some fruit. Talyn waved at them, before noticing the addition to the normal trio. They said something to Thomas, who nodded but didn’t stop staring at Joan.

“Uh, what’s up, Dad?” Roman asked.

Joan gave a shout as Thomas’s eyes twitched, glancing at his son. “Your dad and I were in a staring contest for Talyn’s rainbow candy, which he just lost!”

Logan chuckled as he pulled one from his bag. “Here, we did break your concentration, so you can take mine. They’re too sweet for me anyways.”

“See!” Talyn shouted before turning to the new addition. “So, I take it that you’re Virgil. A pleasure to finally see who Lo and Pat were gushing over. I’m Talyn. That’s Joan and this is King Thomas.”

“Thomas. Just Thomas.” He said, finally seeing the new being, before freezing.

Virgil did not like the look on the fairy’s face as Thomas struggled to keep his thoughts off his face. Is this when I finally find out just how much I messed up agreeing to all of this or everything else? Am I about to be thrown in make-believe fairy jail? The day so far has been sort of nice, even if I’ve been terrified of the other shoe dropping, but I guess this is when it finally does.

The entire group looked at him in confusion, not used to Thomas not having already cracked two jokes with a new person. Thomas’s advisors glanced at each other, extremely worried while Roman, Logan, and Patton just watched the scene in confusion. Patton and Logan had shifted as if to hide Virgil, but they didn’t need to.

Thomas’s logic finally caught up with him as he offered a strained smile to Virgil. “I’m completely sorry, this is a thousand percent not on you and completely just me.”

With that, Thomas bit his arm and screamed before finally managing to relax, much to the horror of the group. “OK, I’m better, sorry. Uh… Virgil, is it?”

Roman tried for a grin, but he was just as worried as Virgil. “Hey, normally takes me several days of random shit before I get him to screech like that. You’ve already beaten me in my own game!”

“Uh, Thomas? Everything alright?” Joan asked.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry again, Virgil. You just look similar to a young woman I once knew and those were some extremely repressed memories. It’s nothing on you, I promise.”

“Dad, with a woman? Yeah, no that’s impossible.”

“I helped her do something once and that was it, Roman. Your Pa and I were already married. Now, let’s just move past this, please.” Thomas then spent half an hour shooting down all further questions and tried to keep the conversation light.

Once Thomas and his advisors were called away for some business, Logan glanced at Virgil. “Well, that was not what was supposed to happen. Sorry, Virgil.”

“It’s… alright? What now?” he answered, now just wanting to do something to block that experience from his mind.

 ****

 It was about an hour from sunset when Remy arrived at the hill. Logan was sitting there with a sleeping Virgil next to him. Not saying a word, Remy easily collected the sleeping figure, shocked to sense just how deep of a sleep he was in. Remy glanced at the fairy and couldn’t help the grin seeing how tired Logan was as well.

“You lot must have been running around for how exhausted he is,” Remy commented.

Logan grinned, tiredly. “Pat and Ro are already fast asleep. Once you get him in your car, come back for the rest.”

“Rest?” Logan waved at the pile of junk Roman had practically forced upon the man.

“Boi, do you lot want another partner, because like holy cow, I thought I spoiled my babes.”

The fairy yawned. “Just get on with it.”

Next chapter

Taglist: @that-one-nb-kid, @hufflepuffxfox

[gamerwoo]

Seonghwa: Facade (Part 3)

Characters: Seonghwa x female reader (featuring Hongjoong)

Genre/warnings: royalty au, sorta arranged marriage au, slowburn, fluff, a little bit of angst

Word count: 3,301

Summary: Being an assassin, you’ll do anything for anybody as long as they can pay for it. However, you might’ve met your match after meeting your next target, Park Seonghwa, the prince of the kingdom. It’s not that his fighting skills match yours or that he’s even a little suspicious of you – it’s how he has a heart of gold, cares so deeply for his kingdom, and would do anything for you despite the fact he has only just met you. So now you have to make a choice: fail your orders and accept death…or kill the man you’ve fallen in love with.

a/n: IT’S SEONGHWA’S BIRTHDAY SO I’M POSTING A DAY EARLY LMAO

Previous | Next

Day 17; 10:41 -- 73 days until deadline.

You hadn’t seen Seonghwa since that day that you saw Hongjoong for the first time while he watched you and the prince. Somebody would come to your bedroom and apologize on Seonghwa’s behalf for not seeing you, but it wasn’t until the day before that you were finally told he was sick -- by Hongjoong who could tell you were anxious because nobody would tell you what had happened. Seonghwa was your target, so you thought he’d either found out and was actively avoiding you, or plans had changed and nobody told you. Either way, it made you nervous.

“He didn’t want you to know because he didn’t want you to worry,” Hongjoong had explained. “He’s not deathly ill or anything, it’s just a stomach bug.”

So three days had gone by since he had first gotten sick, and you’d been in your room all three days. You were starting to get bored, even with Hongjoong coming in to ‘check on you’. Nobody else in the castle seemed to give a shit about you except for Seonghwa, which made no sense since everybody thought you were going to be the new princess and then queen. You thought the people that lived in the castle would pay a little more attention to you. You may have had a mission to do, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t ‘befriend’ anybody while you were staying there.

Instead of suffering another moment of boredom, you waited until the castle had gone mostly quiet before sneaking out of your room. The halls were much darker than you’d ever seen them since you’d never snuck out of your room other than to climb out the window and shimmy down the vines that climbed up the side of the castle, but you knew this was good since it meant everybody was asleep. So you made your way to the kitchen and tried to throw together a soup as quickly as possible. It was one you would make for Mingi or any of his friends when they fell ill, and you’d learned it from a sweet midwife whom you’d had to stay with for a mission before. She claimed it could cure any stomach bug, so you paid extra attention when she made it -- even though you knew it couldn’t actually cure anything.

Once the soup was made, you held the bowl of soup between both hands and made your way to the prince’s wing of the castle. Despite everybody seeming to be asleep, you kept your steps soft and light, and your senses sharp just in case somebody happened to be lurking. You were sure most of the guards were still awake, working in shifts to protect against possible intruders or any other dangers.

When you’d reached Seonghwa’s door, you balanced the bowl in one hand to knock softly. You didn’t hear a reply, but you slowly opened the door anyway, peeking your head inside.

Seonghwa laid in bed, his face illuminated by the fire in the fireplace across the room. His eyes were barely open, watching the flames as they made the wood crackle every now and then. He didn’t even look at you as you slipped into the room -- a task that was much easier with this thin, milky white dress that you were given as a nightgown rather than the stiff, thicker dresses you had to wear during the day -- and closed the door softly behind you.

“Seonghwa,” your voice was quiet when you spoke his name.

Immediately, his brown eyes flashed over to you, a tired smile spreading over his features, “Darling, what are you doing here this late? I don’t want you getting in trouble over me.”

“I heard you weren’t feeling well, so I made you soup,” you told him, bringing the bowl over and setting it on one of the two nightstands.

Seonghwa pushed himself to sit up. His cheeks were flushed pink, and there was a very light sheen of sweat on his forehead that made little strands of blonde hair stick there. When the blanket fell away from him as he sat up, you saw the fancy attire he had to wear wasn’t on his body, either -- not that you expected him to wear fancy garments to bed, but you didn’t expect him to be shirtless. You’d been around plenty of shirtless men before, so you weren’t sure as to why you felt your cheeks heating up. You blamed it on the warmth from the fire that was across the room.

“How’d you find out?” he frowned as he reached over for the soup with the spoon resting in the bowl. “I told everybody to keep it secret from you. I didn’t want you to worry about me.”

You just shrugged, coming up with the best excuse you could, “If we’re to be married, worrying about you is something I’ll be doing often. May as well start now.”

Seonghwa chuckled as he stirred the soup slowly, “I guess that’s true.”

He ate a spoonful of soup, humming softly at the taste. He seemed to like it enough to eat more of it, but he didn’t comment on it like you assumed he would. You raised your eyebrows at him while watching him eat another spoonful, his eyes meeting yours and pausing with the spoon in his mouth.

“Hmm?” he asked around the spoon.

You laughed softly, “Good?”

“Mm!” he took the spoon out of his mouth and swallowed, putting the spoon down and nodding eagerly. “Yes, it’s very good, darling. Thank you for making it for me, I greatly appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome. I learned the recipe from...a kind woman from my home.”

“It tastes a lot better than the soup they’ve been giving me, actually. It tastes more...like...home. Does that make sense?”

“No,” you admitted with an amused laugh.

“The soup I’ve been eating tastes like the fancy stuff we eat at dinner parties and whatnot,” Seonghwa explained, ignoring the fact that you were technically laughing at him. “This tastes like what I imagine soup made by your mother would taste like after hours of playing outside in the snow and coming in to warm up. It tastes like home -- warm, happy, and made with love.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, shaking your head, “That was very cheesy, Seonghwa.”

“Yes, but it’s true,” he stated before eating more of it.

Seonghwa continued to eat and continued to keep thanking you for making him anything so late at night. You reassured him it was no big deal since you typically stayed up late anyway, but then he started lecturing you between coughs on the importance of getting enough sleep. You promised you were getting enough sleep, but he wasn’t having it -- even as sick as he was.

“Once we’re married, I can always make sure you’re sleeping the proper amount,” he nodded to himself.

“Shouldn’t you be worrying about yourself? You’re going to cough up a lung,” you joked. “And speaking of sleep,” you began, standing up and taking the almost empty bowl from him and setting it on the nightstand, “you need a lot of rest to feel better.”

Seonghwa flashed you a dazzling smile even though he was pale and flushed, “Tuck me in?”

“Are you a child?”

“No, I just want my fiancee to spend more time with me.”

“Weren’t you just telling me to go to sleep earlier?”

“Then sleep beside me.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes, “Okay, now I’m sure this fever is messing with you.”

Seonghwa whined softly as you gently pushed on his shoulders, making him lay down before you pulled the covers up and tucked him in anyway. He grabbed for one of your hands, holding it with both of his, “At least stay a little longer. Until I fall asleep. I haven’t seen you in three days.”

You sighed, looking into the puppy dog eyes Seonghwa was giving you -- the same eyes you’d seen from Mingi whenever he wanted something, too. But you knew you had to continue to act the part, so you gave into Seonghwa with a slow nod.

“Fine, I’ll read to you until you fall asleep,” you decided.

Seonghwa smiled and released you from his hold, allowing you to walk over to one of the few bookshelves in his room. He watched you the whole time, thinking you were absolutely stunning like this -- no makeup, no fancy hairdo, and a simple dress that showed off the curves of your beautiful body but was also very plain and let your own natural beauty speak for itself rather than being too overpowering from the intricate detailing. Like this, you didn’t look like every other noblewoman he’d seen -- you were even more beautiful. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t checking you out and admiring you.

When you’d finally chosen a book, you went back over to his bed, sitting on the edge and angling yourself to face him. Seonghwa reached up with one hand, cupping your cheek and stroking it softly with his thumb.

“I didn’t think it was possible to think you were more beautiful than I already thought you were,” he murmured, realizing this was the first time he was seeing you without all the extravagant clothing and makeup. He’d never just seen you before.

Your cheeks blushed pink under his touch, your eyes falling from his face to the bedding you sat on. Your heart started beating quicker, but you knew it was just an involuntary response to the compliment.

“Your fever is making you delirious,” you chuckled before you opened up the book and began to read to him.

Seonghwa knew he wasn’t delirious, and he knew he had never seen anybody as breathtakingly beautiful as you, but he would have to wait until he was better to convince you. So, for now, he kept quiet and let you read, listening to your every word until his eyelids began to get heavy. Your voice was just so soothing and nice to listen to that it began to lull him to sleep.

When you’d noticed he’d fallen asleep, you closed the book and placed it on the nightstand beside the bowl. You stood from the bed, made sure he was tucked in properly, and then went for the door, trying to keep as quiet as possible. You spared him one last glance as you opened the door, his slightly sweaty skin glowing from the dim light of the fireplace. It was no secret Prince Seonghwa was beautiful, but he was even more beautiful with his face completely serene, his full lips slightly parted as he slept.

You quietly slipped through the door, silently and slowly closing it before turning around to leave. That was when you jumped and let out a quiet gasp seeing somebody right in front of you.

“What are you doing?” Seonghwa’s uncle demanded in a hushed tone.

“He’s sick, so I went to take care of him,” you explained. “He’s asleep now.”

The man’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at you, “Why would you do that? You’re not actually falling in love with that retched boy, are you?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes slowly just so he knew how dumb he sounded, “I would never fall in love with my target, sir. I’m simply doing what any fiancee would do. I have to act the part, don’t I?”

And with that, you walked past him and down the hallway that was only dimly lit by candles, making your way back to your room.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Day 19; 23:52 -- 71 days until deadline.

After the little stunt you pulled two nights ago, you weren’t allowed to visit Seonghwa anymore. You were told it was because they were afraid of you falling ill as well, but you knew it was because Seonghwa’s uncle was mad at you. You didn’t really care if you got to take care of him or not, you just wanted something to do to keep you from rotting away in your room from boredom. However, one of his maids came in to ask you how to make that soup because Seonghwa refused to eat anything else. You got to go down to the kitchen for a day to make a large pot that they could reheat whenever Seonghwa got hungry.

That only kept you occupied for one day, though. So now you were back to sitting in your room, reading whatever books you had, doodling on whatever stray papers you could find, and staring out the window while you daydreamed of doing anything other than sitting around a bedroom. You did visit Mingi the last two nights, but you could only do that for an hour tops. It didn’t keep you from getting bored during the day.

But that night, you were debating on going to find Mingi again. You knew sneaking out too much would get you in trouble, so you tried not to go check up on him every single night -- he was an adult, anyway. You just missed your brother, and you hated feeling so useless and just bored all the time.

A soft knock on your bedroom door had you turning away from the window that you sat at to look out at the night sky.

“Come in,” you called softly.

When the door opened, you expected to see the grumpy old man giving you a stern look and ready to interrogate you. But instead, you were met with quite the opposite -- a handsome prince with a dazzling smile. Seonghwa quickly closed the door after he entered, walking over to you with soft steps as you stood up.

“What are you doing here?” you asked him in an urgent whisper.

He chuckled, “Nobody can hear us. I just wanted to thank you for the other night. I haven’t gotten to seen you since, so I snuck out. I assumed you got caught since my uncle specifically told me I couldn’t see you until I was better.”

Seonghwa took one of your hands, holding it up against his before slowly lacing his fingers through yours. You stared at the way your hands intertwined as you tentatively did the same. You weren’t sure if you liked these small gestures now or if you were just getting used to them being done.

“You didn’t get in too much trouble, did you?” Seonghwa asked softly, fluttering his eyelashes at you while he held your hand to his chest, right above his heart.

You shook your head, “No, he just asked what I was doing in your room unsupervised and after hours. I’m sure he was more upset with any guards around than me.”

“If anybody bothers you, you send them to me, alright? I’ll deal with it.”

Then, Seonghwa did something you weren’t expecting. He bowed his head, pressing his lips tenderly against your forehead. It barely brushed your skin, but you still felt the touch. You felt your heart leap out of your chest at the gesture, but you were already composed by the time he pulled away and smiled at you.

Maybe you weren’t used to the gestures yet.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he promised before he let go of your hand and left your room.

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, your shoulders slouching forward as you dropped your head into your hands. You had no clue what that even was. Why would he kiss your forehead like that? Anybody else you’d ever had to form ‘romantic’ relationship with only kissed and touched you in sexual ways, but Seonghwa...

There was another knock at your door, and you suddenly stood up completely straight, staring at the door like you’d gotten caught doing something you weren’t supposed to. You were positive it was going to be Seonghwa’s uncle this time.

“Yes?” you called.

The door opened, but in walked another surprise guest: Hongjoong. You sighed, letting your eyes close and your body relax.

“Good Lord, can you and Seonghwa stop with these surprise visits?” you groaned.

“What are you so tense for, _____?” Hongjoong teased as he silently closed the door.

“What are you doing here?” you countered, not bothering to answer his question.

“You and I haven’t gotten a chance to properly talk,” he shrugged, walking over to sit where you’d been sitting in the windowsill. “I spoke to you all of three minutes the other night. Haven’t gotten to go see Mingi, either. How is he?”

“He’s alright last time I checked,” you told him. “He said you had a mission in the castle.”

“And apparently, so do you,” he smirked. “Please tell me it’s that fucking awful uncle of his. God, that guy is insufferable.”

“Really? You don’t like him?” you asked, walking over to sit beside him.

“No one does. He’s the only family Seonghwa has left, though. Lord, I can’t believe Prince Seonghwa and that man are related at all. Seonghwa’s so kind and caring and loves people and nature and everything, and his uncle is... Well, he’s the devil if the devil were a tall old man with a resting sour face.”

You looked at Hongjoong curiously, “You like the prince?”

Hongjoong just scoffed as if the answer were obvious, “Who doesn’t? Prince Seonghwa is amazing -- you should know, _____. How long have you lived in this kingdom? Since you were born?”

“Yeah, but you know I stay under the radar and don’t pay attention to the law.”

“That is true. Still, he rules over all of us so I thought you’d like him, too.”

“...Should I like him?”

“Do you like him?”

You opened your mouth before slowly closing it, letting out a sigh. You looked at your lap, your hands gripping the seat of the window, “I was paid to assassinate Prince Seonghwa. That’s why I’m here.”

The silence that followed your statement told you that Hongjoong’s jaw had all but dropped to the floor. Even he was stunned by this, but you had to be truthful with him -- he was somebody you could trust, anyway.

“O-oh...” was all he said.

“I’m sorry,” you told him, finally meeting his eyes again. He actually looked sad, and you were actually sorry. “If I don’t do this, though, then--”

“Then you die,” Hongjoong nodded, “I know how it works. Don’t worry, _____, I’m not upset with you and I don’t blame you for going through with it.”

“Really?” you asked as Hongjoong stood up and walked toward the door.

He nodded, only pausing to look at you when he opened the door to leave, “I just wish it didn’t have to be him. He’s so genuine and kind and-- ..._____, I think he really cares deeply about you. I do get what you have to do, I just-- If you could ever find a way out of it, I think you should.”

“...Really?”

Hongjoong closed the door again, apparently not done talking.

“_____, do you really not feel anything toward Prince Seonghwa?” he wondered. “Not even just in a friendly kind of way?”

You paused to think about it. You did feel...something when he complimented you or did things for you or gave you gifts. At first, you just felt nothing but sorry for him whenever he was nice to you, but now you felt almost grateful sometimes when he treated you with such kindness. You could admit you didn’t think Seonghwa was a bad person, but you didn’t know what else you could say past that just yet.

It didn’t matter, though. Your opinion on him wouldn’t change anything.

When you didn’t say anything, Hongjoong left you alone in your room.

[danbensen]

…or how tracking my life told me I was abusing coffee and social media

So there I was, my nails digging into my palms, my right molars pressed into each other. The air hissed in through my nose as my vision narrowed to a point. It was like hurtling down a roller-coaster. It was was terrifying, and I had no idea why it was happening.

I’d be doing nothing especially ominous – sitting down on the couch, carrying my younger daughter, thinking about bread – and suddenly I’d be gripped by this intense sensation of danger. BREAD! The image of a whole-grain loaf gained the mass of a church bell. DOOM! It rang. Toll the yeasty knell, oh brazen fate, for all men shall one day die. Die, oh, mortal flesh. Die and meet thy baker. (whoo! I am so sorry about that pun. Deep breaths now…)

Tiny drops of steam Ebb and flow before the light With each of my breaths.

It was ridiculous, but of course knowing that it was ridiculous didn’t help. I was like a cat, freaking out for no reason. Or was there no reason? Aren’t I supposed to listen to my body, now that I’m meditating and whatnot? But what exactly was my body supposed to be telling me? Avoid carbs? Run from the couch? Something about my daughter…? Yeah, If I searched hard enough for a reason to be terrified, I’d surely find one. Now there’s a reason for fear.

So I meditated more. I stopped using social media. I took my daughters to the park and watched the sky as it changed from brass to rose and the street lights blinked on. I talked to Pavlina. And I realized that over the course of the past month, I’d gone from drinking two cups of coffee a day to four.

The trees turn black and The sky, indescribable. Look up and it’s changed.

Scheduling is hard. My older daughter’s in first grade now, and school starts at 8:10 in the Center. The younger one’s in kindergarten, which starts at 8:30 in Levski G. At some point, it would be nice if Pavlina and I could go to work, which is back in the Center. If we want to have breakfast and drink our coffee in peace, we need to wake up at 6:15. Three hours later, I’m finally in the office and I’m tired. That scares me because I associate being tired with being sick. Fatigue=death.

I’m supposed to listen to my body, but my body is a stupid animal. It’s not going to say, “you’re drinking too much coffee.” It says “coffee reminds me of being happy!” and “not being productive scares me!” It says “I’m tired! I must have cancer again!” It’s up to me to keep track of what I’m doing, cut out the distractions, and give myself enough mental room to notice the patterns.

Right. So that’s why I’m not doing social media any more. Because part of the reason I was too distracted to notice I was drinking too much coffee was the last newsletter I wrote. I posted it on facebook, which made me want to check facebook for likes and comments. And once I was on facebook, why not see what other people are posting? Oh. Oh. That’s what they’re posting. Oh no.

I debated writing this explanation. Why not just stop using social media? Why talk about it on social media? But my litmus test for whether I should write something is “will this help people?” Maybe this is helpful: social media is distracting and depressing. It fills my head with noise. Maybe you have the same problem and this is the solution.

The sky at seven The color of hope that hurts And the crying swifts

I’ll continue to post my work on my website (including these newsletters) and mirror or link to those posts on Tumblr, Twitter, and Facebook. Readers are welcome to like and comment, but I’ll only read those comments once a week (Friday seems like a good day). Comments on my website, PMs, and emails to me will get my attention earlier. I won’t read any content that isn’t sent personally to me or that I didn’t sign up for. Hopefully that means I’ll still get news from people I care about, but not about tragedies that I have no power to solve. That way, I can continue to function from hour to hour.

What do you think? Is this going to work? Can I stay connected without sacrificing my mental health? Let me know in the comments. Or even better, email me.

In other news, I had some good writing stuff happen this month. Interchange has hit its 2/3 mark and, more importantly, its rhythm. I’ve managed to block off a fairly reliable 90-minute chunk of time in the mornings, which I use to meditate and then “speedwrite,” which means writing without thinking about what I’m doing. I generally end up with a single element of a scene, such as the conversation the characters are having, how they feel, what’s going on in the environment, or what actions the characters are taking.

Then I usually have some time after lunch (and my second and final coffee), and I can layer those scene-pieces onto each other and smooth the edges. If I have more time, I do research, which usually involves shooting messages to generous experts. In this way, the inestimable and inspiring Thomas Duffy helped me tie a ribbon around the center of my book, in which a biologist’s subconscious belief that she owns the environment she’s studying leads her to destroy it. As the forest crumbles around her, she blames herself…then makes exactly the wrong decision about what to do next. Yeah! Fiction! Thomas, I’m going to send you roses or cacti or something.

Another new tradition I’ve instituted is spending my Friday mornings not working on Interchange. It’s a little release of pressure, a chance to play and remind myself that writing isn’t just another chore I have to do. The first week, it was a short story. That one turned out so well, I’m going to try to publish it. It’s called “The Sales Event” and it’s about smart phones and general relativity. Do you want to beta-reader it?

I got another couple of “no”s from publishers about The Sultan’s Enchanter, but one of them was that very gratifying “no” that comes at the head of a long list of things I could do to fix the story. Making those fixes will be educational, even if that particular publisher still passes. Wealthgiver is rather like The Sultan’s Enchanter, after all, and the lessons I learn from one will be important for the other. The world needs more books about amoral Balkan people!

Yeah, I’m still working on Wealthgiver’s neo-Thracian language. I even posted a little of it on Tumblr. But don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten my little goats!

Kapt kapēnon ainē kesa / byźai darsai ypo dēsâ. Ēbron, aiźi, byźâs kâ / skalmon, bleptē, bystâs kâ, As tae yper iatśikan / kapâ pe ta ve abbrinkan.

There were at one time / brave goats under heaven. A kid, a nanny, and a billy goat / clever, loyal, and tough, Who would dance up / a hill for to make themselves fat.

Dâ ispilsen opē rinkon strymē / parân ân, śân târâ dymâ. Iśē iserpa źēryntē / źymlē mērē urdēnē. Byźulâs ada pyrân źilmân / dâ bolvarâs pia rhobton saimân.

But a quick-flowing river blocked / the path with an evil guard. There coiled a beast / a great water-dragon. A goat will eat green grains / but a serpent will slurp blood

Peskēnon ērga ēbron do. / Pliskon ērga śân negō. Źymlē zē semân iglytsa. / “Kis ēs tu?” Neston iglâtsa. “Semâs manon ēm ēźo.” / “San ar ēsti? Abadam so!”

First comes the kid. / It splashes with its hooves. The dragon heard this. / “Who are you?” she roared. “This only am I.” / “Is it so? I will eat you up!”

Things are heating up! I’m still not entirely comfortable with the articles and deitics, but I do like that last line. And the orthography is shaping up nicely. I love googly things over letters.

Another potential conlanging project for that other hundred years I plan to live: Western Hellenism. What if the Greeks had conquered Iberia?

And finally, PROTECTOR! This is the comic project I’ve been working on for literally six years. Words by me and Simon Roy, inks by Atryom Trakhanov, colors by Jason Wordie, and lettering by Hassan Otsmane-Elhadu. What a crazy, fun, glorious process this collaboration was!

Protector is a post-apocalyptic scifi story about a slave who stumbles across “a demon of the Profligate Age,” a military cyborg who’s been in hibernation for the past thousand years. The post-human robots who are terraforming the Earth are not amused, and send in some sweaty future-vikings to put a stop to these shenanigans.

There will be five issues, and issue one comes out in January. If you’re interested, please order a copy, or better yet, tell your local comic or book store to order lots of copies! Give us some numbers that will convince Image to ask for a sequel

And finally, some books and stuff

Daring Greatly by Brené Brown – this book wasn’t as transformative for me as it could have been because I’ve read Brown before and I already agree with her. Shame is bad. Vulnerability is the cure. Bam. What I like about Brown is that she collects good data, lets it prove her wrong, and suggests how the lessons from the data can be usefully applied. It’s not just science, it’s engineering.

Falling Free by Lois McMaster Bujold – I think this was the third read. What happens when GM humans become obsolete? What happens when an engineer has a spiritual epiphany? It wasn’t quite as much fun as some of Bujold’s other science fiction, but it has a lot of heart.

Spooky Action at a Distance by George Musser – an excellent physics book, examining the concept of space, which lies at the center of the contradictions of relativity and quantum physics. If space didn’t exist, the universe would be chaos, but a lot of experiments only make sense if space _doesn’t_ exist. Great stuff, and it inspired that short story I’m so proud of.

Death by Water by Kerry Greenwood – a refreshing splash of chilly New Zealand sea spray. Phryne pursues a jewel thief and has a little bit of sex, but a lot of good food, drink, and dancing. There’s also a hakka.

Wicked Prey by John Sandford – it was actually a little boring. The police’s side of the story didn’t hold up as well as the criminals’. But this is a relatively early book in the series, which means Sandford is improving.

The Upright Go Pro – it’s a little device that you glue to your upper back so it will buzz at you when you slouch. Immediately after I put it on, I realized I have little tiny tyrannosaurus arms that don’t reach any table or counter-top. It ran out of batteries one day and man did my back hurt that night. So I guess it’s working.

Gravity by Against the Current and Brighter by Patent Pending – Good Interchange music.

Be Kind to Yourself by Andrew Peterson – It makes me feel better.

Song of Durin by Clamavi De Profundis – I haven’t gotten goosebumps from a song in a long time. It’s about dwarves.

The Twits by Roald Dahl – I read it to my older daughter and boy howdy did Roald Dahl know how to write for children. Everything seems utterly ridiculous but it all somehow satisfies. Like eating dirt cake.

Steven Universe – My younger daughter found me rewatching it on my phone and made me cast it on the big TV. Now it’s all “I wanna watch Steeben dabout a Giant Woman. I’m Pearl.” No, younger daughter, you are not Pearl. Pearl is my older daughter. My younger daughter is Amethyst. Nobody is more Amethyst than my younger daughter. (I’m Peridot)