#it’s quite nice to have energy again to do something for my silly little useless hobby

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That Time Tim Totally Terminated Ra's Al Ghuls Entire Empire Part 1

So. I wrote something very silly. The title says it all, except it doesn't because this bad boy spiraled out to being over 10k and deserving of 2 chapters. Anyway, here is the first chapter featuring all the times Ra's kidnapped Tim because he wanted to recruit him.

Summary:

"Let us not beat around the bush,” Ra’s started, after taking a sip from his tea, “I have brought you here to make you an offer.” Tim nodded, that was obvious enough. Ra's had no reason to kidnap him this time beyond something like this.

“As you know, I’m always on the lookout for enterprising young individuals with both leadership and fighting experience to join the League of Assassins. Right now I’ve been on the hunt for the perfect person to fill a brand new executive role in a new chapter of my organization.”

AO3 Link

~

Tim wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up in this situation. No really. One moment he’d been in Gotham, crouched behind an old BMW that had been in the same spot for a month, waiting on Batman’s signal, the next he’d woken up in some lavishly decorated room. Was that silk? Or maybe velvet? He had no idea what was hanging around the bed he was laying in, but Tim really didn’t care.

What he was concerned about was his own personal state. He raised his arms --that alone was a good sign-- and confirmed that his mask was in place. He pushed himself up on the ridiculously plush bed, -which was unreasonably plush by the standards of a kid who'd grown up rich, and then gone to live with a guy who had both more money and even better beds.

The point was, the bed was so soft Tim actually had a bit of trouble sitting up.

When he did manage to right himself, he finished taking stock of his own situation and his surroundings. His Robin uniform was intact aside from his belt, but he saw that set on a trunk that looked at least as old as Bruce, a few feet away. The room was, as he already determined, lavishly decorated.

Tim pushed himself out of the bed and onto a carpet so thick he kind of wanted to pull off his shoes and curl his toes in it, but seeing as he still had no idea where he was, who took him, or why, he figured that was probably out of the question. He did make a mental note to ask Bruce for some better carpet when he got home. As a kind of gift for surviving a very weird kidnapping.

Instead, he moved to walk carefully around the room. He found no obvious traps, no cameras or speakers or microphones that were either hidden or out in the open, and both doors were unlocked.

The first he opened revealed a bathroom. The second he cracked open to peer out of. His eyes locked on that of an honest to goodness ninja standing guard outside the door. The man locked eyes with him and Tim snapped the door shut with a click.

Welp, that answered the who and maybe even the where of Tim’s abduction. Ra’s Al Ghul. He was pretty sure if he gave the ninja ten minutes to go find Mr. al Ghul himself, he’d have the why too.

While he waited, Tim snapped his belt back around his waist, comfortable to have its weight back, even if being in a League stronghold meant all the tricks in his pockets were basically useless on his own. Still, it was nice to feel fully like Robin again.

After that it was a matter of waiting.

Tim paced an actual trench into the thick carpet as he waited. Batman was of course looking for him. That was a given, he just had to wait for the man to find him. Or for Ra’s to send him home? He really wasn’t sure why the Eco-terrorist would have taken him in the first place beyond a really weird obsession with Batman's various sidekicks.

How come all of Bruce’s baddies seemed to have a strange fixation on Robins? It was weird how many went out of their way to kidnap and attempt to recruit him, Dick, and if the stories were to be believed, Jason too.

Just as Tim was starting to turn that particular thought over in his head, the door to his room opened and Ra’s himself strolled in.

“Timothy.” the man drawled.

“Ra’s.” Tim replied, suddenly totally and completely unsure what to do with his hands, voice, feet, and general self. This wasn’t a fight after all.

He settled for crossing his arms and being terribly glad his domino hid his eyes.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought you here.” Ra’s said.

Tim shrugged, “It doesn’t take the world’s greatest detective to guess that.”

The man frowned at him, and Tim started to wonder if maybe he should be watching his words a bit. He wasn’t in Gotham with Batman at his back after all. But then again, Ra’s must need something from him right? So a little sass was okay, what was Robin without a smart mouth after all?

“I mean--” Tim started, unable to stop himself now that he was thinking about it, “I can probably start to guess. You didn’t kill me and I’m not in a dungeon so you’ve got to want something from me right? I bet this is some blend of trying to win me over and also hold me above Batman because you--” he paused for a moment trying to remember if Bruce had been on Ra’s’ trail at all lately.

He dropped his arms and clapped, remembering, “You’ve been trying to break into energy and you want Wayne Enterprise to back you and legitimize your business. So you’re holding Tim over Bruce, but you probably want Robin because you and like half of Batman’s rogues have this weird obsession with teen heroes for some reason."

At some point he’d stopped looking at Ra’s and actually started pacing again. When he stopped talking his feet stilled and he looked back up at Ra's and grinned, ""So, am I hot or freezing cold?”

He expected Ra's to looked angry or irritated, instead he looked amused.

“You are quite warm. Though I would contend the assertion that I have a weird obsession with teen heroes. I am only interested in the exceptional, and you Timothy, are exceptional indeed.”

Tim gulped, “I mean--not really? But thanks.”

Ra’s waved him off, “We will speak more later. You are correct, I do intend to use you as a bargaining chip against your guardian--”

“Dad.” Tim interjected.

The man raised an eyebrow but continued, “However you are not a prisoner in the traditional sense. You may wander the compound with one of my men by your side to ensure you do not get into trouble. If all goes well you will be returned to Batman within a reasonable amount of time. Unless, of course, you do decide you would like to stay and learn from me.”

“I don’t really see that happening.” Tim said, “But I'll be sure and let you know if I make a sudden turn towards world domination.”

Again, Tim expected some kind of retaliation, but he was thankfully ignored. Ra’s left him with a warning not to cause undue trouble and soon Tim was alone in the room again.

He spent the next couple days wandering the compound somewhat aimlessly. He had a phone call with Bruce where he promised his dad that he was totally fine if a little bored, and spent the rest of his time trying to avoid Ra’s. The man was kind of relentless in his attempts at winning Tim over to his side and sought him out at meals, when Tim was trying to train a bit at one of the many gyms, and even once while Tim was wandering a rather fantastic garden. Each time, Tim did his best to wiggle out of the man's suggestions and just get back to wiling away the time between then and getting home.

Thankfully, it was all over in four days when Batman came crashing in with Nightwing and Batwoman to rescue him, and soon Tim was home and settling back into normal life.

He’d actually almost forgotten about the whole Ra’s kidnapping him until it happened again. Once had been a surprise, two times was starting to look deliberate.

This one lasted a week with Ra’s claiming it was because he still really wanted that energy deal and he just couldn’t understand why Bruce wasn’t willing to trade that for his ward (son Tim had ground out in irritation).

Tim almost believed him, until he woke one morning to find a pamphlet had been slipped under his door, it was literally a flyer promoting hiring in the League. Tim looked over it and had to laugh out loud. The text was done in a mix of papyrus and other fonts and whoever made it had used clip art. It looked like someone had typed it up in Microsoft word in like half an hour.

He spent the rest of his time there re-designing the flyer, with a ninja hanging over his shoulder as he used one of the League computers. The new one wasn’t the best flyer in the world, but Tim was pretty proud of it, and it was much better than the first draft.

When he was done, he pocketed the original, then pinned a note to the new one that said: Ha! Not until you get better designers.

Batman rescued him again, and Tim pushed the double kidnapping and Ra’s’ weird obsession to the back of his mind until the next time he was with Steph.

They were in the manor watching a Chopped marathon and Tim was telling her about both kidnappings.

“So he’s super into energy? How come he didn’t nab Dick? We all know he’s Bruce’s favorite.” Steph teased, popping a chip into her mouth.

“Setting aside that obvious lie, that’s the thing,” Tim continued, digging out the flyer he’d kept, “It has nothing to do with energy or Dick. I’m pretty sure Ra’s is trying to recruit me.”

He showed her the paper and Steph snorted, spraying chips out as she laughed, “No. Freaking. Way. I have to tell Cass. Let me show her this, please I’m begging you.”

Tim groaned, “Yeah, sure, but don’t you think it’s weird?”

She shrugged, taking the flyer to look it over, “Of course, but the B-man attracts weird like ice cream dropped on the ground attracts ants. Give him six months, and Ra’s will move onto a different way of trying to piss off Batman.”

“I hope so.” Tim said.

The third time Tim woke up in the elaborate room he was getting really sick of the decor and the headache that came with being knocked out and dragged halfway across the world.

“You know.” Tim started, the moment Ra's walked into his room (and it was actually Tim’s room he’d learned from one of the ninja guards), “You could have waited a month this time, to at least pretend this wasn’t all about your super weird plan to try and convince me into letting you adopt me.”

Ra’s opened his mouth to respond, but Tim wasn’t done.

“Which, by the way, I’m taken already. B did the whole adopting thing, so you missed that window. Though, I guess that probably doesn't really matter to you in the grand scheme of things since you keep kidnapping me. You are aware that kidnapping isn’t the best way to convince someone that your way is the right one, right?”

“Also, would it kill you to pick up some --I don’t know-- books on recruitment or something? I don’t understand how you’ve managed to get so many guys on your side it’s--” Tim started, but Ra’s had caught on to Tim’s mood at this point, conceded temporary defeat, and made a hasty retreat.

Tim didn't see him the whole rest of the day, and by the next morning Batman showed up, swinging in for another rescue and all was fine and good and normal for a while.

Until, of course, it wasn’t.

It was the fourth kidnapping that really set Tim off.

He woke up back in that stupid room with it’s stupid decor and those stupid posters ready to burn the place to the ground. But something stopped him, a premonition. Like if he was patient for just a little longer he’d find a good and proper form of revenge to take on Ra’s for his total inability to take a hint.

At some point two ninja came by to take Tim to meet with Ra’s. As they walked Tim couldn’t help but notice the posters literally lining the hallways they walked through.

They were of two wildly different styles, but both struck a thought of familiarity in his mind. One was obviously a play on the classic “I want you in the army” poster. The other ripped off old “pin up” recruitment posters. Both made him laugh, and Tim pulled a couple of each down to save to show the Titans. He had a feeling Bart and Kon would lose their minds over these.

He had just folded them up and shoved them in his back pocket when they reached an office. Inside, Ra’s sat in a chair and motioned Tim to sit in one across from him.

“Thank you for joining me, Timothy.”

Tim sat and shrugged, “Not like I had much of a choice.”

Ra’s waved him off. As he did, a different ninja from either of the ones who’d escorted Tim to the office came in with a tray of tea. He handed Ra’s a cup, then gave one to Tim, and left the set on a table between them.

The whole vibe was kind of awkward and strange. Tim felt very much like he had one time a year ago when he’d realized halfway through a date that things were not going to work out. He hadn’t been able to end the date then and there, and had spent another two hours awkwardly making small talk and trying to avoid promising a second date.

“Let us not beat around the bush,” Ra’s started, after taking a sip from his tea, “I have brought you here to make you an offer.”

Tim nodded, that was obvious enough. Ra's had no reason to kidnap him this time beyond something like this.

“As you know, I’m always on the lookout for enterprising young individuals with both leadership and fighting experience to join the League of Assassins. Right now I’ve been on the hunt for the perfect person to fill a brand new executive role in a new chapter of my organization.”

Tim took a sip of his tea in an attempt at avoiding having his mouth drop open in shock. Ra’s sounded like something out of a “Executive success seminar” that was just a veiled multilevel marketing scheme.

“To put it plainly, Timothy, I want you to become my apprentice. I know you and assume you might be hesitant to accept this lifestyle so I’ve prepared for you something of a presentation on what that might entail.”

Tim couldn’t stop a laugh from bursting out of him, but he did manage to turn it into a kind of cough.

“Wait--wait.” he said, almost choking on his tea, “Are you about to show me a powerpoint?”

Ra’s looked a bit put out at that suggestion, almost like he wanted to sigh, “Of course not, it’s more interactive than that.”

Tim held up his free hand, incredulous, “Is this--a job interview Ra’s? I thought you were pitching this to me.”

“No, no. It’s an interactive presentation designed to show you just what you have to gain from joining me.” Ra’s explained, as he did so Tim took another sip of his tea.

He lifted his cup and waved it lightly, “Oh yeah, so I’m just in one of those fairy tales then where you make me do three impossible tasks and at the end I get the happily ever after dip in the lazarus pit?”

“It’s only one trial--”

“So it is a task!” Tim declared, almost standing.

“Timothy.” Ra’s snapped, sounding a bit like Bruce whenever Tim and Steph’s antics pushed him a bit too far.

Tim crossed his legs and leaned back into the chair, “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Irritating the man was a bad idea, Tim knew that, but this was just ridiculous. He wasn’t going to be sent on a wild quest that might end up with him dunked in a Lazarus Pit or whatever else Ra’s had in mind that would supposedly prove how great it would be to work for him.

“If you are not going to take this seriously, then there are other ways of showing you why joining me is a good idea that are not nearly as pleasant.” Ra’s growled.

Tim held up his free hand, “I’d rather not find out, give me your pitch or send me off with your best ninja or whatever you were planning.”

He figured playing along would work for now. He could put off giving Ra’s an answer until Bruce came in for a third rescue. When he was home, they were going to have a serious conversation about ninja proofing the manor. Ra’s could not keep kidnapping him like this, they had to have some kind of security measures in place.

“Wonderful. I’m sure after your tour you’ll have a better understanding of what I have to offer you.”

Tim ended up following someone Ra’s called his “best general” around the compound for an hour. The guy showed Tim the training rooms, the medical suite, sparring rings, a variety of ninja’s actually practicing, and at one point they even ended up in the library. The general had been given instructions to pause anywhere Tim wanted him to, and so they lingered in the library for a bit.

He had to admit, Ra’s had a fantastic library.

The general didn’t seem worried about Tim getting lost, or escaping, and waited by the door while he wandered the massive room.

And boy was it huge. It was bigger than the main floor of the cave, with stacks and stacks of books on two floors. Some of the volumes looked ancient, and there were even scrolls shelved on the second floor.

He gingerly pulled one out to examine.

“That is worth more than you could ever imagine.” a sharp, young voice, declared, behind him.

Startled, Tim dropped it back onto the shelf and spun. Before him stood a kid, probably 8 years old, with tousled dark hair, dark skin, and a face that almost echoed some of Bruce’s school photos. It was startling.

“Hi.” Tim said, dumbly, “I know, it’s Ancient Sumarian right?”

“Tt.” the boy crossed his arms, “You are not an idiot then.”

Tim shook his head, “Nah, apparently I’m smart enough to be selected for recruitment.”

The kid nodded, “So you are Grandfather’s young detective. He speaks highly of you.”

Grandfather? Tim’s brain spun. This kid was Ra’s al Ghul’s grandkid? He ran the numbers, the kid’s mom was either Talia or Nyssa. If he had to put money on it, Tim figured the boy before him looked more like Talia than her sister. And his other features--like Bruce’s?

No.

No.

No. Freaking. Way.

“That is hardly language to use here.” The boy said, arching an eyebrow at him.

Tim hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud, but apparently his surprise had been so great he had. He cleared his throat, “Sorry, I just never expected Ra’s to have a grandkid.”

“It is not surprising to me, I am his heir. Born to inherit the League and rule the world one day.”

Okay, that was a lot to unpack. Just a totally wild amount, but Tim wasn’t super focused on the world domination thing just yet (maybe later when he had a chance to process all of--well, all of it), “Sorry to keep pressing but, doesn’t having an heir kind of--I don’t know, put his whole Eternal Ruler of the League thing in jeopardy?”

“Tt. It is not my place to question my Grandfather’s plans. I simply know what I have been told, that I will inherit the League one day in his stead.”

“Well,” Tim rocked back on his heels casually and grinned, “That might be a long loooong time.”

The kid’s brows furrowed as if he had not really considered that idea before. He opened his mouth to say something else, but seemed to decide against it, dropping his arms to his sides to shrug, “If that is his wish then so be it.”

“True.” Tim said, not really knowing what to say. Instead he settled on changing the subject, “You know, if your grandfather gets his way I’ll be spending more time here, so I guess introductions are in order. I’m Timothy Drake-Wayne, but most people just call me Tim.”

He held his hand out to the kid, smiling at him. If he really was Bruce’s then they’d be getting to know each other for sure. Just not here. Tim had zero intentions on letting Bruce’s child stay with the League. Did B he even know he had a kid? Tim thought he’d better figure that out first before kidnapping his little brother.

Little brother. Just that idea made something flutter in Tim’s chest. He’d always wanted a little brother.

The boy scowled at his hand, and did not take it, “You may be correct, even if I do not see what Grandfather seems to. I am Damian al Ghul, heir to the Demon’s Head.”

Tim bit back a grin at just how serious this kid was. He sounded like a little prince, all imperious and haughty. Damian, even his name fit him. He wondered how Damian would do around Dick? Or Stephanie. They’d figure out how to bring a smile out of him.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Damian.” Tim said, “I know we’ve really only just met, but I’m sure you’ll see what Ra’s does in time.”

Damian looked him over again, then gave a sharp nod, “I am interested in seeing what you have to offer.”

“Damian, I found it, where’d you go?” A voice sounded from deeper within the stacks.

Tim started at the sound of the voice. He knew it. Knew it from nights spent chasing shadows, from recording’s Bruce had watched a hundred times when he didn’t think Tim was watching. From Tim’s own desire to know and learn more about his predecessor. It was Jason Todd’s voice.

But that couldn’t be. Jason was dead.

“I am coming.” Damian returned, his tone more childlike than Tim had heard in their whole conversation. He turned back to Tim, “Do not ruin that scroll, I will see you later.”

Then he spun on his heel and walked away.

Tim stepped forward, reaching out for the kid, “Wai--”

“Master Tim, we really must be going.” Tim’s guide was back, stepping into his view as if from nowhere, and stopping Tim’s chase as short as it had been.

“Can we wait just one more second?” he asked, “I wanted to ask Damian something else.”

The man’s mouth turned down in a frown, “I do not have clearance to let you speak with Master Damian. Come, we have more to see.”

Frustration bubbled up in Tim, but unless he wanted to start a fight he wasn’t going to get a chance to talk to Damian right then. The kid had promised to see him later, so maybe he’d seek Tim out. If not, Tim would find a way.

As he followed the man out of the library, he kept searching the stacks of books for a sign of the others. It wasn’t until they’d left the room that Tim caught sight of Damian again, his small form waving animated at a taller, broader one. One that, while older, was unmistakably Jason.

Before Tim could say screw everything, the two turned around a corner, and someone else was clearing their throat. His guide seemed eager to move on, and so they did.

Tim tuned out most of the rest of the tour, and eventually found himself back in the office from before, once again seated across from Ra’s.

“Timothy, I hear you have met my grandson on your tour.” Ra’s started.

“I did.” Tim said, a bit hesitant to go into detail, his guide had seemed like talking to Damian was a pretty serious thing, and suddenly Tim was afraid he’d gotten the kid in trouble.

Ra’s smiled, “He is magnificent is he not? Already he is a skilled warrior, and well trained in his studies.”

“He said he was your heir?” Tim ventured.

The man waved a hand dismissively, “Of course he is, he is my grandson, but that does not mean he will inherit. The boy is valuable to me, for many reasons. He is an excellent tool to wield against my enemies already, and will only become more so as he grows.”

Anger bubbled up in Tim. There was something in Ra’s’ tone that made Tim sick, to call a kid a tool. To plan to just use him his whole life?

“And what, do you want to do that with me too? You said you wanted me to be your apprentice, but if your Heir is just a tool then--”

“No, as I said I want you to take over a branch of the League. You have talents and skills Damian will not. The boy is--” Ra’s shrugged, “Let us call him a vessel. A shell for me to wield in one way or another.”

Well, that just made Tim even more angry. Damian was his grandkid. What Tim wouldn't have given to still have his grandparents, and for Ra’s to just--If Tim wasn’t already dead set on getting Damian home, he would be after this conversation.

“You know what, Ra’s. Let me think on it a while. I’ll get back to you on my answer. I kind of want to see Damian in action a bit, learn what this training looks like in someone closer to my age.”

The man considered this for a moment before nodding, “I will let you watch his sparring session tomorrow. For now, I think we’re done. Have a good evening, Timothy.”

Tim nodded, and left. His mind was racing, he wanted another look at Jason. Wanted to tell Damian about his dad. Wanted to make sure both his brothers were okay.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he missed the black and blue clad arm that reached out from behind a curtain and yanked him back. Nightwing put a hand over Tim’s mouth to quiet him, and then pulled him out the window the curtain had been hiding. They dropped, into nothing--except it was solid?

Tim found himself inside the invisible jet. Inside, and flying away from his newly discovered siblings before he could even argue they needed to be rescued too.

One flight with Wonder Woman and Nightwing later, and Tim was home again, being told in stern tones by both Batman and Nightwing that he really needed to stop allowing himself to be kidnapped by ninjas (like he didn’t know that).

Then he was in his room, in bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind whirring. He had learned two things on this trip. Two impossible things. Two things he was going to leverage as soon as he could.

It was late, and he should be sleeping, but instead he texted Steph and Cass in their little group chat.

Tim: Want to cause some chaos?

Immediately he received a response:

Steph: Always

Cass: Who are we going after?

Tim smiled, his fingers dancing over his phone:

Tim: Ra’s.

Cass: Time to teach him a lesson?

Steph: I've been waiting for this, I’ll get the kerosene

Tim: There’s more.

Cass: Tell.

The light flashed on out in the hallway, Tim could see it flicker to life under his door.

Tim: Tomorrow, lunch at that place with the sweet potato fries. Come ready to plan a kidnapping or two.

The next day Tim found both Steph and Cass waiting eagerly for him at the restaurant, a heaping plate of sweet potato fries between them.

“Spill, Bird Brain.” Stephanie said, as he sat down, pushing some fries towards him, “I want to hear everything about this crusade against Ra’s.”

Tim rolled his eyes, and snagged a fry, dipping it in one of the sauces they’d gotten to accompany it.

“As you’ve probably already guessed, I had another visit to the League compound yesterday.” Tim started, “It was more of a day trip this time, but Ra’s did his very best to sell me on signing up.”

“More posters?” Cass guessed, then shook her head seeing Tim’s expression, “What did he do?”

Tim snagged another fry, “Yes more posters, but more than that he gave me a speech right out of a How to Recruit for Dummies book, then sent me on a tour of the building.”

Steph snorted, “Please tell me you recorded it.”

“I did not, but you will never believe what I found on my tour, or to be precise who.”

Both girls paused their snacking, waiting on him to continue.

Tim dropped the first bomb, “Jason Todd, alive and breathing.”

“What, no way.” Steph said, “How’d he even get there? I thought He was buried here?”

He shrugged, “I don’t have any of the details, but they’ve got a Lazarus pit, and Ra’s is weirdly obsessed with recruiting Robin’s, so I’d say his resurrection tracks.”

“Who else was there?” Cass asked, brow furrowed.

Now this he knew neither of them would be expecting. Tim hadn’t expected it. He still couldn’t believe it.

“Ra’s al Ghul’s grandson, Damian.” Tim said, watched both girls look even more confused, then added, “The son of Bruce and Talia. At least, I’m pretty sure he’s their kid.”

The fry Stephanie was holding dropped out of her hand.

Tim watched Cass processing the information, saw her realization that there was another child being raised in the League, then saw the determination cross her face at her own personal decision.

“We are taking them both, correct?” Cass asked.

“We’re taking them both, and burning the place down.” Tim confirmed, “That should properly pay him back for all the time’s he’s kidnapped me this year.”

Steph’s lips turned up into a sharp grin, “The law of equivalent exchange.”

Tim laughed, “You’ve been watching too much tv.”

“It’s prepped me for this very moment.” she shot back, voice falsely grave.

“Batman prepared you for this very moment.” Cass elbowed her.

“No.” Tim said, “I’m going to prep you. And then we’re going to put everything in action.”

They talked, and planned, and debated the pros and cons of letting Tim get nabbed again over just going himself, and eventually after many many sweet potato fries and sodas they were ready.

It was to be infiltration first, fire and kerosene second. Obviously the place was going to go up, but only after they set the stage for rebellion and convinced Damian and Jason to go home with them. Tim didn’t think it’d be a hard sell for Jason, but the kid was another matter altogether. If Tim couldn’t convince him to come along, they may actually end up having to kidnap Damian.

A key to the plan was that only Tim, Steph, and Cass were in on it. There was no way Bruce was giving the green light for such a thing. Besides, Tim wanted to see his face when they presented him with not one, but two, rescued sons from the League.

Over the next week Tim made himself the most kidnappable he’d ever been. He wandered outside, kept to himself, and tried to look as wide eyed as possible. He lingered in parking lots, and took shortcuts down empty alleyways. Basically, he did everything he could to signal he was alone and vulnerable besides hanging a sign around his neck that said “Take me to your (ninja) leader”.

At one point he even stopped, dead center in the middle of an alley and declared, “Wow this sure is a dangerous place to be! I hope I don’t get attacked and kidnapped by ninjas!”

The only response he got that time was from an older woman who stopped at the edge of the alley and very seriously called out, “Careful, young man. Don’t you know there are killer clowns out? You best be on your way before you get hurt.”

Then, at long last, Tim caught sight of one of the League members ducking behind a shadow. He paused his walk, and leaned over as if fascinated by something on the sidewalk in front of him. By the time he’d stood, the ninja was in front of him.

Tim held up his hands in surrender, doing his best not to actually look excited. Then, he was successfully kidnapped for the fifth --and if Tim’s plan worked successfully-- final time.

[whatifxwereyou]

Firestorm Part 9: Isolation

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021 Liu Kang x Reader

A/N: skalfjwealjf I live for the angst

Start From the Beginning << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

Your head was pounding. The stone you leaned against seemed to bounce with the throbbing of your head. A soft wet cloth was dabbed against it. Droplets trickled down your forehead and over your cheek only to be wiped away by a familiar hand.

Liu Kang.

You opened your eyes and found yourself curled against the wall in Raiden’s chamber. That was right. He’d had to read you after all that had happened in the fight pit. Each time you woke up from these experiences you had to face the terror of finding your friends injured and exhausted. But this time they didn’t seem to be any different than when you’d last seen them. Liu Kang’s eyes were filled with concern but he said nothing as he dabbed your burning skin. He offered you the faintest flicker of a smile to acknowledge that you were awake.

Behind him sat Kung Lao with his knees folded. He looked nervous. He had several scrapes that had been tended to while you’d been unconscious. Liu Kang looked like he hadn’t bothered seeing anyone for his.

“She’s awake.” Kung Lao’s eyes darted to the side as Raiden approached from somewhere behind him.

“Good.”

The guilt was overwhelming. Again. Guilt for hurting them. Guilt for being so useless in those moments. You’d been strong once but now you felt as though that were something you were incapable of. It was frustrating. You’d felt strong for just a few seconds before it had all gone horribly wrong.

“We must unravel this curse.” Raiden crouched next to where you were leaning. “I fear that there is not much time left for us to do so.” You had nothing to say. He was right. You knew that. “I think that we must uncover who you truly are, Y/N.”

“We know who she is.” Kung Lao was defensive. He’d always been defensive when it came to that kind of thing. Even as kids, he’d stood up for you when anyone questioned you.

“Kung Lao, that is not what I meant. I mean that there is more to her than what we know. I have a feeling that this thing is a part of you that’s hidden away, Y/N. Your gift of sight is unrelated to your arcana. I think that the answer might lie in your heritage. Something isn’t connecting. We have only parts of the full picture. There is a mystery within your mystery. I wish for you to return to the place where you were born to try and uncover it.”

“Most people went to Guilin for more complicated medical procedures. That’s probably a good place to start.” Kung Lao was again at your defense.

“I wasn’t born there,” You finally spoke but your voice sounded tired. Liu Kang kept dabbing the cloth over your forehead. The cold was soothing but it also gave you the shivers. You were freezing. It was probably a damn fever again. You missed having normal crappy days. Days where you’d been fine other than an annoying sinus headache or a stubbed toe. Everyday seemed to be something new and horrible now. At least it didn’t seem like you’d hurt anyone after you’d given yourself over to Raiden so he could understand what you’d seen. “I was born in South Korea. My parents moved to China shortly after I was born.”

“Really?” Kung Lao was surprised, maybe even a little annoyed that he hadn’t known that about you. He had been the Y/N-expert thus far. It was kind of charming how defensive he was over you.

“Yeah. Mom’s Korean and Dad’s Chinese. I’m trying to remember where it was.” You furrowed your brow and massaged your temple. Liu smoothed your hair back and you gave him a look but he averted his eyes with a slight smile. “Andong, I think. I meant to visit as I got older but never got around to it. I used to have the address to their old apartment but… that’s been lost. If I looked at a map, then I could probably at least find some familiar names.”

“When you have recovered then you will go to Andong.” Raiden instructed.

“To what end?” You frowned. What did he expect you to find there? It wasn’t like there would be answers hiding in any obvious places. For all you knew the apartment your parents had shared before they’d moved to China had been demolished and replaced with something else. And it wasn’t like you could ask anyone. Your remaining family thought you were dead.

“Start with birth records. There are memories, Y/N. Memories that I cannot see.

He could see your memories? Oh no. You didn’t like that.

“Memories?”

“Important parts of your history are locked away. They are hidden much like parts of your visions are. Someone doesn’t want you to know what is hidden there. Someone doesn’t want us to know. You must uncover these truths.”

“I still don’t understand how I’m supposed to do that.” It felt impossible.

“You will find a way. I have faith.” Raiden’s encouraging smile backed with the determination behind his eyes was encouraging even if you were running out of hope that there was anything after this for you other than being locked away until you withered and ultimately died. “Find a connection to your birthplace. Find your story where it starts. At the beginning.” When he said it, it made perfect sense but you still had no idea what you were looking for. “Liu Kang and Kung Lao will accompany you. I have a feeling that whatever has been hidden from you will be quite dangerous to reveal.”

“Okay.” You had no room to argue with a god. Any idea was better than no idea and Raiden seemed confident. Going to where the artifacts had been hidden in your vision had yielded results. If Lord Raiden thought that you needed to visit Andong and look at your birth records then you would.

“I’ll still take you to the city before we go. I promised.” Kung Lao smiled brightly at you. He seemed to be a beacon of positivity in a room of heavy energy.

“I could probably get what I need in Andong.” You didn’t see the point of taking a separate trip. You were far less worried about that now anyway. What was the likelihood that you even could get pregnant? You were so sick. Your body barely had any energy to give to you nonetheless a baby. You were pretty sure that something akin to a parasite would not survive within what you were now considering an inhospitable environment.

“No, no. I promised we’d go. And it’ll be a nice break before we go to Korea.” Kung Lao smiled and this suddenly seemed important to him so you weren’t going to argue. You didn’t have the energy to argue. Besides, you could use a few new things. “One of the monks offered to come with us just in case you needed medical assistance. Your friend. The mean one.”

“Chen?” You could not mentally comprehend the embarrassment of going on a trip with Chen and Kung Lao to the city so you could buy condoms and birth control because of Liu Kang. Later. That would be a horrible situation for later. Right now you were feeling too exhausted and defeated to deal with unpacking that. “Is that safe?”

“With Kung Lao there you should be fine.” Liu Kang spoke for the first time since you’d woken up. His voice sounded weary. He’d cleaned up but his scrapes on his face and arms weren’t tended to. The guilt again. It was awful.

“Raiden said he’d be on alert in case anything went wrong.”

“I just don’t know if it makes sense to do anything unnecessary right now.” You were afraid to go out into the world again.

“You can’t stop living because something might happen.” Liu bowed his head politely, clasping the prayer beads in his palm. He’d stopped dabbing your forehead. You knew he was right but it didn’t mean it was easy for you to consider putting anyone in harm’s way.

“Rest for a day or two. But no longer. There is work to be done.”

“I don’t think that whatever this is plans on allowing me to recover. It almost feels like… this happened because I had regained some ground earlier. It felt the need to take it away from me. I don’t know if that’s crazy or not.” You were sure that sounded silly. But judging by the look on everyone’s faces, they didn’t think it was crazy or silly at all.

“Rest, Y/N.” Raiden bowed his head.

“I’ll bring you to your new space so you can do that.” Liu Kang set aside the cloth, next to the bowl he’d been getting water from on the floor. He seemed to have much more to say on the matter but held his tongue. You guessed that whatever it was he wanted to say would be said in a private conversation later.

“I’ll start moving things.” Kung Lao jumped to his feet and dusted off his hands. Raiden offered you his hand and you took it. You were wobbly and exhausted, hands tingling. What had happened while you’d been out of it to make you feel this drained?

“Don’t be defeated. We will figure this out. I have a feeling that we’re close. Like you said, you were getting stronger when this happened. Whoever is behind this wants you to feel defeated. They want you to feel like you have no control. We will not allow that to happen.” Raiden’s determination on your behalf was remarkable. It must have been much easier to make lofty promises while being a god. You were a little touched that they were so willing to help you but the truth was that you were weak. You felt weak. The little bit of strength that you’d regained had been taken from you. You felt like you could have gone to sleep and never woken up. If it hadn’t been for Liu Kang and Kung Lao then you probably would have.

You thought that whoever was behind this was doing an exceptional job. Not to compliment them or anything but you were defeated. You were exhausted. At the end of your rope, even. Liu Kang offered you his arm and you took it. Raiden watched you go. Kung Lao chattered along the way but neither you nor Liu had much to say in return. It didn’t bother Kung Lao. He was happy to fill the silence.

“What happened when I was out this time?” You asked when Kung Lao parted ways with you. He was headed to your old room to gather some of your things while Liu Kang brought you to your new room. A much more isolated place. It was a far longer walk so far. Liu Kang sighed heavily as if he did not wish to discuss this. You were sure it was something ridiculous like talking in crazy demon voices and ink exploding out of you. “Come on, tell me.” You wanted to understand the exhaustion you were feeling.

“Nothing happened.” Liu didn’t sound very convincing.

“Bull.” You tried to joke but Liu Kang stopped walking in the hallway. He grabbed your hand to stop you from walking too and then stepped closer to you. He took your other hand and held both between you.

“Really. Nothing happened. You just… laid there.” He seemed more upset by this than he had been when you’d been speaking in odd voices and making ink thrones and dragons. “Raiden thinks that you were too drained to do more. At least that’s what he said.”

“And you don’t believe him?”

“I think that Raiden finds it easy to avoid saying things that might make us act rashly.” Liu Kang didn’t sound like he approved of the idea but he didn’t sound angry about it either. “Or sometimes he thinks it is better not to mention them.”

“And what is it you think he’s not saying” You didn’t like his tone. You didn’t like the implications. Liu Kang seemed to be the one avoiding saying what he thought was happening. He looked down at your hands and suddenly you understood without him having to say it at all. That was why Raiden had said that he didn’t think there was much time left.

Oh.

“We’re going to figure this out.”

“I’m not dying, Liu Kang.” You sounded awfully confident for a woman who had just considered going to sleep and never getting back up. Liu averted his eyes but you could see the slightest smile on his lips.

“I know.” He decided after a long moment of silence. “I won’t let you.”

You knew that neither one of you truly had control over life or death but you would fight until the end no matter what that end was. It was cruel to have someone like Liu Kang come into your life only for this to happen. It was cruel to be reunited with your childhood best friend only to slowly decay and potentially lose him again. You didn’t want to hurt them more than you already had. You had never wanted to hurt anyone. Even in your worst moments, when you’d been angry at the world, angry at the people of your hometown for treating you so terribly, you had never wished pain or unhappiness upon any of them.

But hurt was unavoidable. You had already hurt them.

“At least you didn’t have to fight my arcana while I was out of it this time.” You gestured down the hall and Liu Kang led them onward but didn’t let go of one of your hands. He just casually held it as you walked like that was no big deal.

“It is a pleasure to fight your arcana, Y/N. Even if you are exhausting in those moments.”

“You’re very sweet but I know that it’s draining for you. Maybe I was just too exhausted from everything that happened in the fight pit. Did Raiden tell you anything about the man I saw? How could I create someone and mimic their power like that without having ever seen them? I can barely create you two and control you properly and I know you very well.”

“He suspects that whoever has cursed you did it. Not you. That was all he told us.”

“I thought that thing was going to kill me. What a way to go. Killed by my own arcana. Are there any records of that? Would I be a first?”

“Not the first. There have been a few unfortunate incidents… one involving a laser and well, you wouldn’t be the first.” Liu Kang managed to joke with you and that was a relief. He led you down a flight of steps and the hall at the bottom was dark. Liu bathed his palm in fire and led you down the hallway and around the corner. The room he led you into was smaller than the one you’d had before but it was more secure. No windows and the doors were heavy. There was an old table with a singular candle atop it. Liu lit the candle before extinguishing the flame in his palm. “Welcome to your new home. Are you sure this is what you want?”

“I can’t think of another option, Liu.”

“But what if you get trapped… Kung Lao told me about that morning and…”

“No one else will get hurt because of me.” You spoke firmly. There was no arguing with you on this. “When I’m not this volatile then I will happily move back to the other room. But until then, Liu, this is the only solution that I can come up with.”

“I don’t like this, Y/N.”

“I know you don’t. I don’t either. But it’s the right thing to do.”

He sighed heavily. The door opened behind you and Kung Lao came in holding your entire desk. Then he slammed it down inside the room. “It’s too dark in that hallway. We have to put in some lights. I nearly died getting down here.”

“There’s got to be an easier way to move my things than you blindly carrying them through dimly lit hallways like a crazy person.”

“Name one.”

“I’ll go get a dolly.” Liu Kang patted you on the shoulder and then shook his head in dismay at Kung Lao before they continued about the task of moving your things to your new space. You sat on the edge of the desk and looked at the small, dark room. This was temporary. You would leave this space successful. You had to.

[my-arlington-academia]

Cliffany part 2

O-kay, and that’s it! I don’t know if I’ll write a continuation tbh since it was just a silly little idea that came out of nowhere. (Although I did have some ideas for more!) I haven’t really been active on my fanblog lately so it’s not like it’ll make much of a difference though haha. By the way, I’m thinking about making my blog more "Dulcet-oriented" rather than just SE. I hope you guys don’t mind? Recently, I’ve been getting more and more into Black Tarot! So expect my blog to change a lil 🔮🕯🌌

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It had been a couple of days now since Tiffany’s last interaction with Claire, and while she was still ignoring her like before, Tiffany’s efforts in doing so had increased. The moment she spotted her in the corner of her eye, she would move at a faster pace, as if running away. Was it guilt after all? No, she just didn’t have the energy to deal with Claire’s annoying and unnecessary empathy. The empathy that she knew she didn’t deserve which made her feel even more frustrated towards Claire.

All she should be worried about right now is getting more followers on Instaglam, not avoiding a nobody like the plague. On that note, spring was coming soon, the flowers started to blossom and the days were getting longer which meant... that the "cottagecore" tag on insta would go trending soon, no doubt! And of course, living on the Arlington campus as one of its students, this gave Tiffany the access to its beautiful garden. Although honestly, she only ever went there to take pictures and this time wasn’t any different. She had prepared some tea sets and dresses for the occasion, all of which she would throw away once spring went away along with its "trends."

Carried by her confident footsteps, she walked to the garden. That confidence was only a facade though. She knew exactly what kind of people and who in particular went to take strolls quite often in this goddamn garden. But hey, it was 7pm and the sun would soon start to set. Knowing that Claire always arrives 15 minutes in advance to any meeting and most likely always wakes up at 6am, there was nothing to be worried about. Chances are, she was either doing her homework before going to bed like a goody-two-shoes or watering her weird-ass plants. Tiffany always had the horror of seeing these at Raquel’s parties. It just didn’t fit at all with the rest of what was going on in the room and ruined the whole "party" vibe.

In any case, there she was, searching for a good spot to take pictures and set up a fake picnic. That basket filled with different colored blankets, tea sets, biscuits, tea and a pie was way heavier than Tiffany had initially thought. Maybe she really should’ve asked for collab pictures with Trisha from the fine arts department. She didn’t really like her but when it came to follower count they were surprisingly close, although Tiffany was still number one of course. Still, if she had asked for a collab they could’ve carried those heavy props together.

After finding a good spot next to the pond, Tiffany set everything up in an aesthetically pleasing manner and got down to taking the pictures. She was taking different shots to post them one by one throughout the week and give out the illusion that she was taking those the same day she posted them. She was ready to upload the first one, call it a day and go back to the dorms without touching any of the tea or cakes. It’s all just useless calories anyways. As she was putting the tags on the picture, she started wondering what were the names of those flowers in the background.

"Ugh, fuck. What are those orange shits called again?"

"Marigolds."

"Ah right, thank y-"

Tiffany immediately snapped her head back. This annoyingly gentle voice could only belong to one person.

"...What the fuck, Claire. Where did you pop out from?!"

There’s no was she was there the whole time, right? It’s true that Tiffany could get lost in what she was doing once she was focused but it wasn’t to the point where she became completely unaware of her surroundings.

"I came by a few minutes ago... Y-you looked so invested in what you were doing that I didn’t want to bother you! I didn’t mean to pry."

Well, Tiffany could always upload those damn pictures from her room. Claire’s arrival just meant that it was time for her to leave. However, seeing that Tiffany started packing up her things, Claire panicked thinking that it’s her fault. Which was in fact, her fault... in a way.

"O-oh! You’re not going to finish your picnic? I’m so sorry, I’ll just leave! Throwing all of this good food away would be such a waste-"

"Are you fucking dumb?"

Did she not get that this was all only a set-up for taking pictures? It was obvious that Tiffany didn’t have any intention of eating or drinking any of that. Not to mention that after everything that happened the other day, she was still not scared of approaching her?

"I don’t give a damn about the food, it was just for my social media accounts you dumb bit- ... dimwit. I was already done anyway so you don’t have anything to do with the fact that I’m leaving."

"I see! T-then maybe I can help?!"

Help? What did Claire even know about- Actually, on second thought. This whole "cottagecore" shtick was a great fit for Claire. She probably already had all of the things Tiffany bought last week for those pictures, even better and more authentic-looking ones probably. This was maybe the one and only time Tiffany would let Claire "help" her. But from her point of view, she was mostly just using her.

"Hm. Is that so? How can you help me then... Claire."

"Wait just a second! I’ll be back right away!!!"

She ran immediately towards the dorms. Well, she'll probably bring a bunch of random stuff. In the end, Tiffany was really torn between the idea of staying and waiting for who knows how long and the idea of leaving right now. Surely, Claire would make a hilarious expression when she’d realize that she was played with and abandoned. While trying to laugh it off, Tiffany accidentally remembered what happened a few days ago, along with Claire’s crying face. Damn... Okay, fine. She’ll wait for her but only because it would be annoying if she bawled again like a damn toddler.

And so she waited until, from the corner of her eyes, she saw a girl with a pink dress running towards her. That girl, of course, being Claire. She carried a picnic basket with her too, but much bigger and more practical. For half a second, Tiffany thought that Claire actually looked maybe, just maybe, a little bit pretty. She erased the thought in a hurry, covering it with harsh words as usual.

"Wh-why did you change your clothes? You think I’m gonna take pictures of you?"

"Ah, no, well..."

Claire looked at the beautiful picnic set-up and the cyan dress Tiffany was wearing.

"I just wanted to fit in with the rest of what you put up, I guess. Also, don’t you think that we kinda match? I brought some of the cookies I baked and my favorite teas and tea set. I think mine will look better with your picnic blanket! Uh- N-not to say that yours looks bad!!!"

She was trying so hard to make herself likable that it was painful to see... and kinda cute. God, Tiffany was really hating her thoughts today. She was just going soft because of Claire’s aura or something. Again, this was definitely the first and last time she was letting Claire help her with anything. I’d be bad if she turns completely brain-dead and clueless like her.

"...Whatever. Show me what you got. I’ll decide if it’s good enough."

Claire was pulling everything out of the basket one by one. Everytime, better and better items were pulled out after the other. Her cakes and cookies gave off a "homey" feeling which was more fitting with the aesthetic rather than Tiffany’s store bought patisseries. Claire was staring at her, wide-eyed and excited.

"W-what do you think, Tiffany? It looks good, doesn’t it?!"

"Uh. Yeah, it’s fine, I guess. I’ll take a few pics."

That was a lie. This looked so much better than the try-hard bullshit Tiffany had done. She was good at riding on the "trend wave" but Claire was a natural when it came to this one specific thing. Tiffany was trying to look as poker-faced as she could so as to not show her satisfaction, but clearly, her apparent enthusiasm for each shot was  betraying her. Sometimes, she would accidentally take one with Claire in the shot and ask her to move.

"Hey. You’re ruining the picture with your ugly fac- dress. Move to the right."

Before Tiffany could even do anything about it, Claire was already pouring some tea into 2 cups.

"Woah woah woah, put the teapot down. I didn’t agree to this."

"But...This is a kettle, Tiffany. Not a teapot."

"Oh, shut it!"

Claire gave off such a dejected face that Tiffany, once again, felt like she was kicking a poor puppy to the ground. She held back on going off on a rant.

"But we’re already here and the weather is so nice! It would be such a shame not to use any of this at all..."

Claire looked around, observing this beautiful setting, not to mention, the sun was finally starting to set. Going home right now would be like an insult to the utter beauty of this scene, it almost looked like it came right out of a fairy tale picture book. Without mulling it over any further, Tiffany took a sip out of her cup.

"I’m only doing this because I feel compelled to, got it?"

Claire’s eyes lit up nonetheless.

"Alright! Please try out my cookies too!"

Tiffany contemplated them for a second... is it true that home-made stuff is more healthy? Surely, that’s just a myth, right? A cake from the store and a home-made cake will have about the same amount of sugar in them regardless of who made them and how. Well, she did see Claire share her food from time to time with her friends and while she would never admit it, it is true that she was a bit curious about trying them herself. What was the last time she had eaten anything "home-made"? Or did it ever even happen?

"...Okay, whatever. I bet they taste shitty."

Tiffany reluctantly took a bite... It was surprisingly really delicious!

"It’s bad."

"R-really?"

As much as she wanted to lie about it, she couldn’t after seeing Claire make that dejected face again.

"Uhhh. No, um. Hmm... On second thought, it’s pretty average. It’s okay-ish."

Tiffany really hated herself right now. Being mean has never been this hard before. She couldn’t wait for the moment where they would be done with this ridiculous play-pretend and go back to her room. She tried drinking and eating as fast as she could without making it look like she was in a hurry to run away from this awkward situation. And God, it was so fucking hard...

Unsurprisingly, they were both pretty silent the whole time. Well, it wasn’t like they had anything to converse about or things in common. Right as Tiffany was about to get up and pack up her belongings, for real this time, Claire spoke up. Nervously fiddling with the hem of her dress.

"Um. So you know, I have something to confess to you, Tiffany."

Oh God, not now. As much as Tiffany found this timing annoying, she couldn’t help but poke fun at that poor choice of words.

"Confess? Oh my, so you like me in that way, huh? That explains everything."

"Wha- N-no! That’s not it! I mean, realistically speaking, t-that would never even happen!"

Was she implying that she could never like someone like Tiffany? Well, Tiffany herself was the one who brought this up but she was a bit offended at that statement. Regardless though, the way she was trying to deny it so hard was kinda cute. No. Not cute at all! If this went on, Tiffany would really become crazy before the end of this day.

"Last time, you said that I was only being kind towards others to profit off of them and I didn’t say anything but... that wasn’t true at all! I always wanted to help you because I thought that you needed it, I swear. Not to satisfy myself! ... Well. Except maybe..."

"Except...?"

"T-today. I admit that I kind of had ulterior motives."

Now that piqued Tiffany’s curiousness right away. Suddenly, she didn’t want to leave as much anymore if it meant that Claire would finally admit that she did some things for her own benefit. Why was it? Did she want to post a picture of herself on Tiffany’s Instaglam to fish for compliments, knowing that she had a lot of followers? Claire hid her face behind her hands and muttered a few words.

"I... wanted you to warm up to me."

"...Huh?"

That’s it? That was it? Claire’s ulterior motive was for Tiffany to "warm up to her."?

"So like, you want us to be friends or some shit?"

"Oh no! Not necessarily that far, just... good acquaintances!"

Is she stupid? There’s no way that she genuinely thinks those "motives" are bad. Tiffany sighed in exasperation.

"Listen. I’m just really tired right now, I don’t have the energy to assimilate all the shit you’re saying. I’m packing all of this up and going back to the dorms."

In complete silence, they gathered all of their belongings and walked to the dorms while keeping a fair distance between the 2 of them. As if to say, "we’ve got nothing to do with each other." Surprisingly, Claire didn’t try anything anymore. Didn’t even wish for a "good night" or a "good evening" which was weird to say the least. Tiffany tried to ignore it and when she got back and unpacked all of the props, she noticed something that didn’t belong to her. One of Claire’s lunch boxes with cookies in them and... a note?

Here’s my number just in case ;3 Please give me my lunchbox back once you’re done eating the cookies!♡

"...Your note makes me wanna barf."

So that’s why she didn’t try anything. That sneaky little... she must've slid that into the basket when they were packing. She already knew that Tiffany would eventually be forced to talk to her again... as if! Who says she’ll return it? She can just throw all the cookies away along with the box... Or so she thought. Tempted, she took a bite, then another one. And another one. Her diet was ruined for sure now. Damn you Claire and your stupidly great cooking skills, as if you needed another skill to be better and more perfect than you already are. Tiffany put the box away, trying to forget the delicious taste and smell. Back to Instaglam she goes. Uploading the picture while adding the "marigold" tag on it. Going through the pictures again, she noticed that some of them had Claire in the corner. She was thinking of deleting them but... well whatever. She can just crop her out later if needed. Her dress looks pretty so it’s fine even if she does appear in the pictures. All we see is a bit of her hair, as long as her face isn’t visible, it’s okay. Yup. It was totally not because Tiffany was slowly starting to feel something towards the girl she was trying so hard not to get involved with.

[many-gay-magpies]

{The Red Wall}

---

In my house, there is a red wall.

It was there when we moved in— a stark contrast against all the other walls in the house, all monochrome shades of beiges, taupes, and greys, achingly plain compared to the blood red wall separating the kitchen and dining room.

Of course, there was nothing wrong with plain— plain was good, my mother said. Like a blank canvas. Nothing much clashed with beige. There was quite a lot, however, that could clash with red.

My mother always talked about painting over the wall; Making it something teal or blue-ish and all the surrounding walls a warmer shade of beige. She talked about it often, every night after work, but she never did.

One day, one of my mother's friends came over, one who worked in magic; The kind of magic that still exists in the smallest ways yet no one believes that it does, too stuck on it being fantasy. He came to visit; Said there was some negative energy in the house— something leftover, like the remnants of something which didn't cause harm any longer. And as he spoke, I couldn't help but glance at the red wall.

There was something jarring about it. It felt like more than just it's blood red-ness stark against the muted greige of the room, more than just the way my mother would always highlight it, when talking about what in the house she would paint, when she wasn't so tired from work anymore.

Sometimes my parents would go on errands, and I would be alone in the house— I was old enough, they trust me and I trust myself. If it's in the mornings (or any time when I'm hungry, really), I'll heat up something from the fridge or freezer, leftovers or one of those bland meals the school gives us which I shower too much in salt or pepper.

One of those nights, when I was alone, I found myself stopping beside the wall, looking up at it silently for a few minutes. Something slightly enthralling about it.

"Hello," I said to the wall; Then felt incredibly stupid about it right after and longed to bash my head into it out of shame.

It's okay, I rationalized with myself— No one is home. No one saw you say 'hello' to a completely inanimate wall. Just pretend you were joking around and you'll be fine.

That night, I dreamt of a voice, whispering a 'hello' into my ears as sweet as honey.

The wall began to grow on my mother after a time. Me, too; My father, who was colorblind and not too focussed on such things as wall color anyway, never gave it much thought. My mother and I agreed that the deep bloody burgundy was a sort of nice color, and it went well with all the various ornaments we had stacked against it, the golden-stained buffet and the bronze-edged mirror and the little teal candle holder made of abalone.

Although any time I mentioned liking the wall, becoming accustomed to it, she would simply say, "No, I do want to paint it, soon. We should paint it, soon." But there was less force in her voice each time.

Another time I looked at the wall and said 'hi', quietly, in my mind— No one could hear me, then. Just myself; And even then I could play it off as another one of those stray, silly little thoughts I liked having.

That night I slept better than I had the whole month. Perhaps red walls like to be talked to.

On another one of those alone nights, I was sitting at the dining room table, eating, when I noticed a change in the wall. It was smooth— smooth all over. It shined, not like paint, not like it had, because dry paint wasn't supposed to shine, to shimmer like that.

The wall was rippling; Like a sideways lake someone had dipped a finger in, like a sheer veil over a bride's face, like deep red silk in the wind. And then just as it had resembles water, out from the water came a hand, then a face and then long, silky red hair the same as the color of the wall and then a whole person after that.

I wasn't as surprised as I probably should have been, by the woman of blood and porcelain and ebony black eyes that had just emerged from the red wall.

"Hello," I said, again, and she smiled; a melancholic sort of thing, on lips more rosy pink than bloody red. There were little red teardrops beneath her eyes; Like teardrops painted onto a clown's face with face paint.

"Hello." Honey-sweet, like in my dream.

"Why are you here?"

"To protect," she said simply.

"What from?"

She shook her head. "In time," She said. So I nodded. In time. It made sense.

I said nothing more and neither did she. She stayed, leaning out of the wall, for a while, before slipping away; The red slowly turning from a rippling mirror texture back into solid paint, back into nothing much surprising or unordinary, aside from the starkness of blood-coloring against boring beige.

Curiosity of the red woman plagued me for more than a week, so one night in the middle of the night I crept downstairs in my pajamas, pulled up one of the dining chairs to the red wall and sat in it with my knees up to my chest. I drew little things into the dark red paint, little hearts and swirls and doodles of eyes I could see with nothing but my fingertips.

Again the wall changed from paint to ripples, and again she came from it, pushing through the red like silk curtains.

It was hard to see her, in the dark— I hadn't turned on any lights. But still her skin illuminated under the palest bit of moonlight coming in from the outside window.

"What do you protect from?" I asked, leaning the side of my head against the wall.

"Nothing," she said quietly. "Nothing, now."

I nodded; Understanding in some way I wasn't entirely sure of, but didn't protest.

"Is whatever it was you protected from... gone?"

I thought I saw her nod in the dark. I may have. Nonetheless she spoke no more. I wondered if she had a limit, on what words she could speak per night; Or if she simply got tired after saying a few.

I didn't mind the silence that followed, though. Words could be tiring.

The woman came down to sit atop the gold-stained buffet. Her knees were pressed to her chest, like mine, her arms wrapped around them. I thought she looked smaller, in the dark. Less powerful, more childlike.

That in itself felt like a powerful thing.

"Goodbye," I found myself whispering, when she slipped back beneath her watery curtains again. Then I went up and slipped drowsily between my own.

"My mom is going to paint this wall," I said to her, the next time I saw her.

The woman rested dangling above the doorway between the kitchen and dining room that night— sitting atop the doorframe as if it, in it's white-painted glory, didn't have the same rippling effects as the blood red wall she had emerged from. It probably didn't; acting more like a chair of sorts, from which her porcelain legs swung to and fro beneath her, little drips of red falling from her dress and disappearing the second they hit the floor.

"Oh," she said, and I thought she looked sort of sad.

"Will you go away, when she does?" I asked her.

A nod. I found myself a bit sad about it too, somehow; about this being who was looking more and more like a young girl and yes like a woman as the nights passed by, or perhaps that was just my changing perception of her.

"Oh," I answered, quiet, because I still wasn't entirely sure what to say to a girl that had come out of a wall. "Well," I was again sitting in one of the kitchen chairs with my knees to my chest, but still at the table, this time, and facing the white doorway she dangled from. "She probably won't do it for a while. She's tired. From work. So, you'll... stay here a little longer."

A soft smile came to her rosy lips, "That's good."

I learned more things, in time. I learned that the people who owned the house before us had been trying to protect themselves from something, and created her for the purpose; I learned that when they moved, they had just left her there, like a family leaving a puppy behind in an alleyway when they no longer wanted to care for it.

Of course, I knew things were much more complicated than that. A red-clothed protector spirit was quite a bit different from an abandoned puppy. Sometimes, though— sometimes I looked into her eyes and I wasn't as convinced.

The next week, she told me she didn't want to leave.

I tried to think of ways to get my mother not to paint over the red wall, or ways to delay it, at least; although her work exhaustion did that pretty well on it's own. But when it came down to it, the wall would be painted, one way or another, and I, a person vastly avoidant of any form of confrontation, had no way of stopping it.

"It's okay," she said in a whisper one night, like all the others, us both sitting in the dining room together, me in my pajamas and her sitting on the doorframe in her red gown. "It's okay, I can go. I'm not needed here anymore." I'm useless.

Some days, when I had presentations for class, or when would lay awake at night, anxiety pulsing in my veins about every possible situation, I would be overcome with this feeling of warmth; of red.

Weeks passed. The red wall became a staple of comfort, like a deep burgundy blanket draping over me and snuffing out all the little candleflames of doubt, not really a medication for the anxiety but something that made the weight a little lighter, the thoughts a little more bearable when they would get so bad I couldn't breath. I would sit, and I would talk, with this protector in the wall who didn't have a name, who was like a lost puppy, a newborn child thrust into the world for a purpose that was so quickly pulled out from under her.

She started appearing less; not coming out of the wall to sit with me as much as she had, although sometimes I still saw a ripple, a faint sheen that was more than paint. I would still sit and talk, be it aloud or in my head, to the red wall; maybe hoping for something to respond again.

I began to wonder if I was a little crazy. Maybe I had imagined it all. Maybe I only dreamt the softer voice that told me 'thank you' and 'goodnight' after I closed my eyes. Maybe I was, indeed, mad.

Although I began to think that maybe that was her exact motivation, when summer came and my mother painted over the red with pastel-y teal and I wasn't as sad about it as I could have been.

---

In my room, there is a red wall.

It was painted a month ago— covering the wall behind the head of my bed, a stark contrast against the creamy beige surrounding although it is nice, somehow, too. It feels like a blanket; snuffing out the light from the windows in front of and behind me when it gets to bright, holding me in warmth when the winter gets frigid and we don't bother to direct the heater up onto my floor of the house because I've always preferred to sleep in the cold.

My mother was curious, at first, about my request to paint a wall red, as red had never been one of my favorite colors, but she didn't protest— and so now, in my room, there is a red wall.

[kiribaku-queen]

Home [5/10]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader, Kirishima x reader

Fluff, angst, werewolf!au

Warnings: cussing

Word count: 3.6K

A/N: I just want to thank you guy SO MUCH for the overwhelming amount of support I got from the last chapter. I was not expecting it and seeing each and every comment and ask made my day. Your support means the world to me and is encouraging me to make a better story for you guys! Read till the end for another author’s note! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

Summary: Being called the beauty of the clan isn’t as nice as it sounds. The beauty of the clan is supposed to exude confidence, power, and well, beauty. You were quite the opposite, only possessing one of those traits. Yet, the older you got, the more you fit into the role you were given. After your brother and all the boys of age come back from their training period, it was time to find a mate. But who will steal your heart? Is it Bakugou, the rising leader of the pack, or is it Kirishima, the personal guard and the strongest in the pack? 

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]

You got out of there as fast as you could. Nothing could have prepared your heart from what you just saw. You’ve been heart broken before. Sure. You were heart broken when the other kids didn’t want to play with you. You were heart broken when Bakugou left for training. You were even heart broken when he practically ignored you for days on end. But even with all that experience, this hurt on a whole new different level.

Kirishima took you far away from his place, far away from the city, from the people. And as soon as you guys were alone and he held you in his arms, you cried. You cried until the tears blurred your vision and stained your cheeks. You cried until your voice was hoarse and burning. You cried till you started hyperventilating and you were gasping for air. Your heart and emotions were reacting but so was your body. You were trembling. You held on tight to Kirishima for dear life. He didn’t know what to do or what to say. If he said the wrong thing, you could run away from him and never return. He was scared that if he let you go, you were a goner. So he held you and continued to hold you until you let go.

All of it didn’t make sense. One day he’s telling you he loves you and then the next he’s kissing another woman? Sure, that’s his fiancée, but… he loved you. Didn’t he? The more you thought about it, the more you could feel your heart break and tears would well up with tears. And soon you were a crying mess again. You were in Kirishima’s arms for hours. Nothing but the sound of you crying, sniffling, and heavy breathing. You sat in his lap, head lay on his broad chest as he cradled you in his arms. When you felt yourself having another crying episode, he could pat your hair and lean into you so that he laid his head on top of yours. When your quirk would appear to whisper depressing thought into your ear, Kirishima was quick to cancel those words out by saying sweet, encouraging words to you.

You’re useless.

“Look at how much you helped this clan.”

You’re nothing without him.

“You don’t need him. You’re strong. You are still you even without him.”

No one will love you now.

“I still love you. Your family still loves you.”

Your life is meaningless.

“You mean the world to me.” He counteracts every single comment, but you can’t help but feel that black ghost’s words are true. So you continue to break down in Kiri’s arms until you are physically unable to move. Crying takes a lot of energy out of you and by the time you finished crying, you were exhausted. Kirishima was so comfortable at the moment. The way he held you to the warmth his body was radiating to the way he smelled. All of it helped you calm down to the point where your eyes were slowly drooping down. The next thing you know, you were asleep.

Kirishima sighed as he looked down at your sleeping body. It hurt. It hurt seeing you in so much pain and there wasn’t anything he could do to make you feel better. His heart was hurting for you but at the same time, he was filled with so much rage. Bakugou always had the best life. He was born into a high-class family. He was destined to be the next alpha. He had the looks, the body and the girl. Ever since they were little, Bakugou only had eyes for you. What a coincidence, huh? So did Kirishima. But he never made a move or confessed because he was already aware of Bakugou’s feelings, even if he never talked or acted like it. Bakugou had everything he wanted. No matter how bad Kirishima wanted you, he already knew he didn’t stand a chance against Bakugou. He didn’t have the status or the charisma like his hot-headed friend. He was only the right-hand man. So he gladly gave you away and didn’t chase you, if it made you happy. But you weren’t happy. Right now, you were crying in his arms miserable. He gave up the girl only to see you being treated like this. That enraged him. As you fell deeply asleep, he picked you up and carried you princess style back to your home.

He was greeted by a worried and somewhat angry-looking Sero. No matter how much Sero wanted to bombard and interrogate Kirishima, the moment he saw your tear-strained cheeks and frown that was secured on your lips, he knew you were first priority. Interrogation can come later. Sero led Kirishima through the house until they got to your bedroom door. Kirishima gently laid you down into your comfy bed. As soon as you touched your pillow, you immediately relaxed and snuggled into the pillow. Despite feeling many emotions, Kirishima pulled a small smile upon seeing your action and he lifted his hand to gently pat your head. You’ve been through a long day and you were finally safe inside your bed. After admiring you for a quick second, Kirishima swiftly left your room, passing Sero on the way out.

“Watch her while I’m gone?” he asked which earned him a scoff from your brother.

“I don’t need permission from you to take care of my own sister,” he retaliated, speaking from his feelings. He knows Kirishima means well but he didn’t like seeing your tear stained face. Whether or not Kirishima did it or someone else, he took it out on the first person he sees, and that so happened to be Kirishima. As Kiri left, Sero sighed, letting a hand brush through his hair. He walked to your room and sat on the bed next to you.

“Silly girl, what am I going to do with you?” he asks himself while caressing your cheek with his thumb. 

 Kirishima enters Bakugou’s home, storming through the halls. He was on a mission. To find Bakugou. Kirishima spots Bakugou in his room just relaxing on his bed. This made Kirishima even more furious. When Kirishima slams the door open, Bakugou’s head snaps towards his direction.

“Oi, where have you-” Bakugou starts to say when he felt a hard force slam into his right cheek. As if it was in slow motion, Bakugou doubles over, his cheek throbbing. Teeth bared and eyes glowing, Bakugou leaps at Kirishima, holding him by the collar and flipping him over so that Kirishima’s body slam into the cold, wooden floor beneath him. The red head groans in pain as Bakugou has him pinned underneath him. “What the FUCK do you think you’re doing?!” Bakugou snarled at his best friend. With all his might, Kirishima flips him over. Now he was the one on top.

“Trying to show you a fucking lesson, you son of a bitch,” Kirishima snarled just as harsh back, if not even harsher. Without warning, Kirishima started punching Bakugou in the face from left to right. “How. Could. You. Do. That. To. (y/n),” he punched in between word with an emphasis on the last word. Upon hearing your name, Bakugou snapped out of it. He swung his leg up, kicking Kirishima in the head which caused him to pause his actions to clutch the back of his head. Bakugou took this opportunity to tackle him back to the ground, this time a death grip landed on his neck.

“Don’t. Fucking. Say. Her. Name. You don’t know anything so I suggest you shut your fucking mouth before I do something really fucking stupid,” Bakugou warned, face dangerously close that Kirishima could feel his breath on his face. But Kirishima was filled with so much rage and adrenaline that he didn’t want to stop.

“I don’t care what your reasons are. I gave up too much to see you break (y/n) like that. I swear, if you make her cry one more time, I will never forgive you,” Kirishima threatened. Bakugou just laughed in his face. His low chuckle turned into a loud, obnoxious laugh.

“Big talk for a guard,” Bakugou emphasized the word guard. He had to remind him where his place lied. Although they were friends since childhood, Kirishima’s job is to now be Bakugou’s personal guard. Bakugou was always lenient when it came to Kirishima, but right now, he was crossing a very thin line and Bakugou had no hesitation to put him in his place. “You talk as if you’re in love with (y/n).”

“I am,” Kirishima confidently says. He was a little too quick to respond. And this was the first time every revealing his true feelings out loud to anyone. The smirk that was on Bakugou’s face slowly faded into a frown and now he was glaring daggers into Kirishima’s soul. Kirishima looking unfazed. “I can make her happier in a week than you did in 4 years,” and with that, earned Kirishima a few, hard punches to the face. His fists causing open wounds to his face and his lips. Blood splattering everywhere.

“You don’t know when you shut up, do you? Fine,” Bakugou let go of Kirishima’s neck, shoving him back to the ground one last time. As Bakugou got up, Kirishima propped himself up on one elbow while the other arm went to wipe the blood from his lips. “Have her. Don’t come crying when she doesn’t want you.”

Kirishima dusted himself off and glared in Bakugou’s direction. He couldn’t believe his friend, your lover, could let you go so easily. Shaking his head in disbelief, he started to walk out the door. “Wouldn’t even dream of it,” he breathed under his breath, still loud enough for Bakugou to hear. Bakugou’s eyebrow twitch in annoyance.

“Oi, KIRISHIMA!” Bakugou shouted at the top of his lungs. Kirishima stopped in his tracks to look over his shoulder. Bakugou turned around to face him, a fiery finger pointed at him. “Don’t you ever think about coming back. You’re done.” Kirishima’s heart clenched slightly but at the moment he couldn’t care less. Without another word, he left his house. When the door could be heard being shut, Bakugou screamed in frustration. He continuously punched a nearby wall until his knuckles were raw and bleeding.

“What happened?!” you asked, concerned when you saw what kind of state Kirishima was in. You woke up feeling thirsty. Your throat so dry that you couldn’t even swallow your own spit. Luckily, your brother was right by your side and provided you with a glass of water. You downed the whole thing in one sitting. As soon as you finished your water, you suddenly realized how dirty you felt. You went to go check yourself out in the mirror, only to find yourself looking hideous. God, your skin was dry because of how much crying you did. Not to mention that your tears dried on your face which caused streaks to appear. Your hair was all over the place and you just looked like a mess. Groaning, you went to go wash up and relax. Despite a small distraction by your looks as soon as you woke up, your mind immediately drifted to Bakugou and how he was kissing another girl. If you could, you would continue to cry but you didn’t know if you had it in you anymore. Kirishima was at your door when you finished cleaning yourself up. But his appearance was not what you were expecting. His was all cut up and bruised. Blood was spilling out of his lips and a cut was opened on his cheek. You hurriedly ran to him to give him support. He gladly leaned on you.

“Don’t worry about it,” he gave you a reassuring smile but you weren’t falling for it. You led him to your bathroom and made him sit on the side of the tub so you could clean him up.

“Right, now tell me what happened. Who did this to you?”  you roughly grabbed his chin out of frustration because he wasn’t telling you anything. You weren’t being gently with him until he you everything. When you touched the wound on his cheek, he hissed and flinched away. But thanks to your grip on his chin, he couldn’t move far away from you. After a few more attempts to try to get him to talk, you did the only thing you could do. “Eiji, please tell me what happened,” you pleaded and looked up at him with the most convincing puppy dog eyes ever. He looked at you and sighed. You knew he couldn’t resist.

“I just got into a fight, alright?” he said, defeated that you got it out of him.

“With who?” you raised your voice a little. He looked away and that could only mean one person. If he fought anybody else, he would be bragging at how well he fought and how he won, even if he didn’t. But when Kiri fought with him, things would always get awkward and he would never admit that he lost. Your motions to clean his wounds stopped momentarily to just stare at him in disbelief. Why were they fighting? It just didn’t make sense. Furious that Bakugou could do this to Kirishima, you stood up and went for the door. You ran out there so fast that Kirishima didn’t have enough time to process what was happening. By the time he went to your front door to chase you, you were already long gone. Kirishima cursed under his breath. As he was ready to go after you, Sero stopped him. When he looked back to look at your brother, he just shook his head, knowing that you can handle it on your own and that you should handle it on your own.

Despite recent events, you stormed into Bakugou’s house like how you would on any day. You headed straight for Bakugou’s room to see him laying on his bed. Hand around his eyes and legs crossed, he laid there taking deep breaths. When he heard someone walk in his room, he groaned loudly and sat up. As he was about to scream at whoever entered the room, he saw you standing at the door with arms crossed against your chest, a disappointed look plastered on your face. His groan turned into a sigh and he laid back in his bed, going back to the previous position.

“How could you do that to Eiji,” you started you scolding. Bakugou refused to look at you but he was starting to feel the anger rise in him again.

“He was asking for it,” Bakugou plainly said. That wasn’t good enough. You needed an explanation.

“That’s no excuse,” you argue back.

“Yeah? Well maybe you should ask lover boy why he decided to show up in my house to punch me in the face first,” he snapped at you.

“What are you talking about?” Kirishima hit him first? Nothing was making sense. Kiri never initiated violence first. Bakugou swiftly got up and stalked towards you. He was coming at you with such power that you had to back up. Your back hit the wall but Bakugou wasn’t stopping. Both his hands slammed on the wall against your head, making you flinch. You looked up and frowned. You could see his face more clearly now and he also had cuts and dried blood on his face and lips. Instinctively, you brought your hand up to touch his wounds but stopped yourself. No, you were still mad at him. You were very upset at him. So why did you do that? You put your hand down but your actions didn’t go unnoticed. He saw the hesitation in your hand and he let out a deep exhale.

“I made you cry,” he voice softened immensely. Your shocked eyes looked at him and he was already staring at you. You looked back down, not really wanting to say anything. He took your chin in his hand and gently made you look at him. “Tell me. I did, didn’t I?”

“Why does it matter,” you removed his hand and continued to face away from him.

“It matters because even if I’m acting like an asshole, I don’t like seeing you cry,” he says. You let out a soft sigh. Bakugou was confusing. He knows he’s acting like a dick, yet he doesn’t want to see you hurt? How could he be so bipolar?

“Then maybe you should just tell me how you feel instead of kissing other girls,” you finally let the cat out of the bag. Bakugou looked at you surprised and somewhat embarrassed.

“You saw?” his voice barely above a whisper. You nodded, feeling the tears coming back. Your heart was racing and aching. The anxiety was coming back and you fiddled with your fingers. Standing still was killing you. You had to move something. Bakugou let out another breath, louder this time and removed himself from the wall. That gave you a little more breathing room. Bakugou paced around the room, ruffling his hair in annoyance. You could tell that he wanted to let out his anger and frustrations but he was trying to contain it. He was having a hard time doing so, it looked like he was about to explode.

“Why did you do it? Is it because you want to make things work with her?” you questioned. You closed your eyes, preparing to hear the answer to the question you’ve been wanting to ask forever.

“She kissed me first,” he started. You opened your eyes to look at him. You felt a little better at least. “But I do want to make things work.”

Crack. A sharp pain hit your chest and you bit your lip to stop it from quivering. For some reason, that hurt you more to hear those words than hearing he didn’t love you anymore.

“What about us?” your voice cracked asking that question.

“(y/n), this is more than just you and me!” he raised his voice once again. “I’m going to be the next alpha. I am responsible for this clan and its people. You heard my dad! Our clan is getting weaker by the day and if I don’t merge with this other clan, we might survive to see another alpha rule. I refuse to let this clan die out during my reign. So yes, I want to make things work with Uraraka because that’s my duty as alpha.”

“Why couldn’t you just tell me? Why did act that way for the past few weeks? Why did you make me feel unloved and unwanted? Why couldn’t you just tell me the truth?!” your voice raised with each question. Tears were streaming down your face as the questions were just getting more desperate. You were desperate for answers. You didn’t want to feel this way anymore. You didn’t want your heart to take this pain anymore.

“Because I knew you were going to ask like this! You wanna know why I acted like that? I wanted you to hate me so that it was easier for you to move on. I distanced myself so it would be easier for you to live life without me. But that made me feel like shit. You know how much I wanted to hold you in my arms every second of the day? If distancing myself wasn’t working, then I tried to be an asshole to you. But that didn’t feel right either. Seeing you cry because of me, made me feel so fucking shitty. I wanted to run after you and apologize but that would defeat the whole purpose. Fuck! I still want you. I need you. But I’m also trying to do what’s best for the clan.” He explained. Out of desperation, you clung onto his arm.

“If you still want me, then let’s be together! We can run away together! We can start our own family like you wanted. Please, I don’t want to lose you to someone else. Please…” you begged. Bakugou could be seen getting even more frustrated.

“What do you want me to do (y/n)?! Just run away from my responsibilities?! Abandon everyone and everything here? You didn’t want to do that in the first place. And I suggested marking you but you denied that to! What, do you want to be my mistress?” he questioned you. No, you didn’t want that either but you didn’t know what to say so you just stay silent. “See, you don’t want that. I’m throwing out all these ideas for us to be together and you just keep rejecting them! Do you even want to be with me? Because I’m trying to make an effort but I don’t see you doing the same” he was shouting now. You clutched your head, tears fully streaming down your face. You didn’t know what you wanted. You didn’t like this change all of a sudden. So many emotions were taking over your body and so many thoughts were running through your mind that you looked like you were in so much pain. Granted, you were. You were conflicted on what to do. So you just stood there, sobbing.

The sight of your crying was breaking Bakugou’s heart into a million pieces. He reached his hand out to comfort you. He wanted to hold you and kiss you. He wanted to tell you that everything was alright. But he would be lying to you and himself. So he retracted his hand. Fuck, it was taking all of his might to not touch and comfort you.

“Sorry (y/n)… let’s break up.”

A/N: I’d love to know your thoughts on this chapter and if it pulled on your heartstrings like it did mine when I was writing it! Also, this may or may not happen, but what do ya’ll think about a small smut scene??? I don’t write smut ever but I think it’d really fit??? let me know!

Tagged: @goodpop9 @superblyspeedydragon @tspice283 @marvelobsessedteen @rosetheshapeshifter @cabbagesquadfam

[sparkleswritings]

Hi! Can I request a scenario of Sanemi x reader and Genya to the mix (platonic with him)? Reader is trying to convince Genya that Sanemi actually loves him, but Genya doesn’t believe them & comments about not being born. Sanemi overhears and goes to prove to Genya that he loves him. Just lost of brotherly fluff plz. I hope I didn’t make this too complicated and I hope you accept my request, but it’s fine if you don’t. Have a nice day!

Hey there! And thank you for requesting! The Shinazugawa brothers really do deserve some love💕 This came out longer than I'd originally planned but I hope you enjoyed it!

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

You had noticed Genya looked a little down today, but had no idea it was this bad because you had been a little preoccupied with training today. He didn’t look like he had started with his training yet, so you thought it would be a good idea to invite him and train with you. Maybe it’ll get some of that bad energy off him.

"Genya! Want to be my sparring partner?” you called out to him. 

He was sort of just wandering around the grounds, he had a distracted air about him, which was a little weird for Genya. He was usually really focused when it came to training, especially because his brother was closeby.

“No...it’s okay (Y/N) I’ll train a little by myself a bit later,” he gave you a small smile and went on his way again.

Something’s not right, and you were determined to find out why your friend was so down in the dumps.

“Genya what’s wrong? You don’t seem like yourself today,” You jogged to keep up with him.

“I'm fine...it’s nothing really. I’m just being silly,” he waved the question off, but that wasn't convincing at all.

“Seriously? Who are you trying to fool? Come, sit, tell me all about it,” You sat on the porch that was nearby, passing him some water.

He thought it over for a minute then tentatively sat himself down next to you.

“So, tell me. What’s been bothering you?”

“It’s about aniki...it’s nothing really,” Genya mumbled, shuffling his feet.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me, we’ll be here ‘till sundown if needs be!” you huffed. Genya always thought so little of his problems while always helping you with yours, you wanted to at least be a little helpful this time. Especially if it was about his brother.

“I just don’t think he cares or loves me anymore. I mean...he sounded like he hated me when I first joined the corps. He pushed me away when I tried to get closer to him.”

“Oh Genya, I’m sure he still cares about you. He’s your brother no matter what. It’s just...he expresses it a little differently than most. It’s Sanemi after all!” you had to keep down a laugh, remembering the brash nature of the wind pillar. 

Genya puts his chin on his hand, avoiding eye contact with you.

“(Y/N)...look at me. My abilities are disgusting, I can’t use a sword and I’m useless with breaths. I’m just an embarrassment to both him and the corps,” Genya falls back onto the porch, covering his eyes with his arm.

“Hey, I think your abilities are amazing. They make you unique, Genya. And you’re not different than all the other demon slayers here, we all have one goal don’t we? I’m sure your brother sees that.”

“(Y/N), you’d think I’m cool even if I were a demon,” Genya snickered.

“Touche,” you smiled. You thought very highly of him, you just wished he would see eye to eye with you. And you really did wish for Sanemi to be a little nicer to him. Sometimes it was even hard to convince yourself that he still loved him, but you were sure under all that, Sanemi still cared deeply about his brother. He was just showing it in all the wrong ways.

“Maybe if I were never born...I wouldn’t be getting in his way. Then aniki wouldn’t be reminded how much of a disappointment his little brother is. Or reminded that he has one at all,” even with an arm covering his eyes, you swore you could see the glisten of tears underneath them.

“Genya...you don’t mean that,” you tried to reach over to comfort him, but decide not to. He looked so brittle just then that you felt even the slightest happening could shatter him.

“I just miss the old ‘nemi.”

Sanemi was planning on sharpening his sword on the porch when he heard his brother’s voice.  He wished he was never born, that part had hit him the most. All he wanted was for Genya to quit the corps and live a normal life. Now it was clear that his methods of attempting to protect his brother was cracking the space between them even more. 

He stormed off to his room, not wanting to be there any longer. If he had just flat out told Genya that he did care, it probably wouldn’t have been convincing, considering the way he had been treating him. This frustrated Sanemi to no end. Sure he wanted Genya to quit, but not at the cost of him de-valuing his own life. It dawned on him that he was the one causing his little brother to feel this way. He had to make things right, but how? Sanemi knew he was no good with words, whenever he tried to comfort someone would usually make them cry more. 

Throughout the next few days, it consumed his thoughts. No matter how much he hated to admit it, he still had a soft spot for his brother. The way he had been treating Genya had been downright cruel, but he had always justified his actions. It’s for his own good, I’m just trying to protect him. 

Sanemi had just finished his patrol, and was heading back through town when he passed a group of kids throwing a temari around. Temari...didn’t Genya used to want one as a child? They never got him one though, their mother always had a strict ‘no ball’ policy that Sanemi still found ridiculous to this day. His mind was made up in a split second, and before he had any time to stop himself, Sanemi bought a temari ball and carried it with him back to the training grounds.

Genya hadn’t seen much of his big brother lately, even though this was his training grounds. He was suddenly worried that maybe Sanemi overheard him and was now avoiding him. Genya put his head in his hands, that did not make him feel any better.

“Oi!” a sudden call made him sit upright, he’d recognise that voice anywhere.

“A-aniki, I-i’m sorry I swear I’m not slacking off I was just-” Genya immediately stood up from where he was sitting, fearing that the wind pillar would go off about the fact that he wasn’t training like the others.

Something was thrown at him, Genya wasn’t sure what, but he caught it in his hands. 

“A...temari?”

“Saw it when I was in town, you used to want one didn’t you?” Sanemi’s voice almost sounded accusing, but to Genya, it just showed him that his big brother thought about him after all.

“Y-yeah...thanks for remembering aniki,” Genya smiled.

Truthfully, Genya didn’t even remember wanting a temari ball, but he was both shocked and happy that his big brother had given him something. 

“And...if you get hungry after training...you can come over for some ohagi,” Sanemi said in a gruff tone, then turned around and promptly left.

Genya just stood there, surprised, but extremely happy nonetheless. That was the best treatment he had gotten from him since...well since a long time.

“Genya? There you are, I’ve been looking all over for you!” You ran up to him, panting. You hadn’t seen him all day and you were starting to worry.

“You sure seem happy today, not that I’m complaining,” you sat beside where he was, poking at his smiling cheeks. After how he was yesterday you were relieved it wasn’t repeated.

“Look what aniki got me,” he showed you the ball, the smile not leaving his features.

You peered in to take a closer look at the object cradled in his arms.

“I didn’t know you liked temari.”

“Me neither.”

But you knew that it didn’t matter. Sanemi could’ve given Genya a rock, but to him, anything from aniki was precious. You swear you could see flowers coming out of the boy’s head.

“Nemi really is the nicest person ever.”

[cosmic-has-moved]

The Vamp N Wolf - Chapter 4

The Mistress was quick to send out an investigation inside the castle for these small cameras, her daughters coming back with no results of these devices. Despite there being no more spotted, the Mistress still advised keeping an eye and ear out for anything out of the ordinary.

After that she decided to go find Hayden. If there were people spying on the castle, there’s a chance they’re also spying on the village.

It was easy finding him since he mostly spends his time in the piano room, he stood in the room arms crossed and cupping chin in deep thought. Alcina brushed it off as just concern about the cameras. “Hayden, I need you to do something for me.”

He snapped out of his thought and looked at her before standing straight. “What is it?”

“I want you to go patrol the whole area, including outside the village.” Cupping her chin she furrowed her brows. “If someone is spying on us, there’s a chance they’re still here.”

Hayden nodded “Than I’ll be going.” He went and walked passed her, but a hand on his shoulder made him stop and look up at her.

Alcina looked back down at him with a concerned expression. “Please be careful.”

He smiled reassuringly and patted her hand before making his way out.

________________________________________________________________

It had been nearly five hours since Hayden went on patrol and the four had grown worry, but Alcina chose to wait more. Thankfully their worries were quickly gone when Hayden returned, with what looked to be the spy over his shoulders.

Throwing the body onto the ground, he began speaking. “I found this person just outside the areas border. He was hiding in a hut that was built in the ground.” Lifting his hand that held the person’s cutoff hand, there was a walkie talkie in its grip. “He went to call for back up when I came in, but I put a stop to it.”

With a silent order from their mother, the girls began examining the body. It was clear that the guy was dead due to there being a large hole through his chest, Hayden explained that it was self-defense because the spy shot at him.

Examining the body vest and other items, Alcina knew who started to spy on them. Mother Miranda only mentioned them a few times because of their concealed reputation, it was the Umbrella Corporation.

“You did wonderful, Hayden.” Alcina ruffled up his hair and turned to her daughters. “Do with the body as you please, it’s practically useless to us now.”

With a nod, Daniella and the two grabbed the body and walked off. Leaving Alcina and Hayden to themselves.

“So I take it you have an idea on what’s going on?” Hayden asked as he gave her the bloodied hand.

“I was told of them from time to time, I heard that they have a bad reputation for creating a dangerous virus but that could just be Chinese whispers.” She wrapped the limb up in a cloth and called over a servant. “But they are a group that shouldn’t be taken too lightly. They’re easy to deal with, just annoying.”

After a servant came over and she gave the hand to them, ordering them to keep in the dungeon bin, with a nod and bow they left.

Hayden furrows his brows while mumbling the corporation name, “Umbrella Corp? Silly name.” Placing his hands on his waist and tilting his head. “We might need to do some digging if they’re spying on us, or at least get word out.”

The Mistress gave him a nod and smiled. “Yes, but I do think Miranda already knows what’s going on. She has eyes everywhere, nothing is safe from her.” Turning around and gesturing him to follow, she walked off. “Now come, I believe it’s nearly time for dinner.”

A huge grin grew on the young man’s face as he happily followed.

________________________________________________________________

Long after their dinner and everyone separating to do their own thing, the Mistress laid in her bed wearing her nightgown.

She barely sleeps due to lack of needing it, her energy lasting for a whole month or more. But when she does need sleep it can be quite difficult to wake her, this was one of those situations. The whole experiment Mother Miranda was running and previous troubles had caught up to her, she was psychically and mentally exhausted.

Closing her eyes and exhaling loudly, she allowed herself to fall into slumber.

She slowly opened her eyes and found herself in the family room, the fireplace crackling from the flames burning the wood. Looking down she saw her daughters, but they were way younger. Daniella and Novella were nearly in their teens while Anna was about six or eight.

“Ah.” Alcina came to the conclusion that she was dreaming up a memory, memories she has long forgotten and desired.

“HEY!”

Snapping herself out of her train of thought, she looked over at the source of the shout. It was Daniella wrestling with Novella while Anna cried over a torn teddy bear, she remembered how often the two would fight while Anna stood back keeping to herself.

Smiling and getting up off the chair, Alcina went over to break up the fight. It was easy separating the two and sending them off, next she picked up Anna and walked her over to her sewing machine that sat in the corner of the room.

The little one watched in interest as her mother sewed the bear back up, the thing was old but Anna still loved it. She smiled joyfully as Alcina handed her back her teddy bear and thanked her before running off.

Watching her child run out she sighed happily and stood up, the atmosphere to the Mistress felt nice. The warmth from the fireplace mixed with the smell of wood made it comfortable.

“I should sleep more often.” She whispered to herself before sitting back down on the lounge chair, quietly wishing she could take here forever.

While laying in the chair she noticed a taste in her mouth, leaning forward and slipped her index finger in her mouth before pulling it back mouth. No blood, yet she could taste it. It started out as feint but quickly took over her taste buds, it shook her enough for her to wake from the dream.

Her vision was groggy upon waking but the first thing her eyes met with was a clenched hand, the taste of blood filling her mouth as her fang dug into the person’s wrist. It was strongly delicious that she continued drinking without a care, later letting go of the hand and moving to the neck. It had been so long since she had her fangs dig into someone’s neck, especially from the ones who previously worked for her as her private toys. Their screams of submission echoed in her head, it deeply aroused her.

Her tongue tingled as her body heated up, her other hand caressing the person’s chest. Something was telling her to stop but her body continued. Occasionally she would pull her teeth out and lick their neck before going back to sucking.

After what felt like hours which were only five minutes, Alcina finally let go and sat up panting heavily. Licking the blood off her lips she looked down to see who had unluckily decided to be her meal.

Her eyes widened in horror as Hayden laid below her looking as pale as snow and close to losing consciousness, her hand gripping his wrist that was cut.

She was quick to get off of him and getting him up off the ground. “No no no no no no, what have I done!” She laid him on her bed and squeezed his wrist to stop it from bleeding. “What the hell happened!?”

Letting out a weak groan, Hayden opened his eyes a bit. “I’m sorry, Mother Miranda gave me orders to give you a bit of my blood. She said it was important or something.” He winced as his wound started healing. “It was only suppose to be a bit, but you tackled me to the ground and I didn’t want to wake the others.”

Alcina sat there with a look of deep regret and anger, that damn woman had nearly gotten Hayden killed again. Placing his hand on her lips she hushed him. “It’s not your fault, just rest.” Using her free hand she stroked his head and continued hushing him. “Worry not, everything will be okay.”

Slowly Hayden shut his eyes and fell asleep, Alcina making sure he was still alive after a few seconds. Placing his hand down she stood up and clenched her fist in anger, “How dare that old hag bring harm to my boy.”

________________________________________________________________

The morning was young and cold, Hayden still laid in Alcina’s bed resting peacefully.

Alcina herself sat at her desk staring intensely at the phone, waiting for it to ring. Mother Miranda would for sure call for results of her orders, if only she was given a phone that could call instead of answer.

As soon as the phone rang she picked up and answered, “About time you rang, I have a few choice words for you.”

There was a couple seconds of silence before Mother Miranda responded, at first she laughed. “So I take it Hayden did as I ordered. And judging by your attitude, you nearly sucked him dry.” She laughed more before calming down. “I only did that to see if my theory of his blood becoming irresistible was true.”

“Do you have any idea how angry I am, you caused me to nearly kill him!” She gritted her teeth as to hold back her yell of anger. “You better stop with this experiment with my son and pick someone else, I can’t bare to see more of my children hurt.” A bit of sadness trickled out of the last sentence.

Yet again there was silence, but there were quiet mumbles in the background. The silence was broken by Mother Miranda clearing her throat. “Fine, I’ll stop.”

Alcina smiled a bit upon hearing that, “But I do need him for one last thing, by the sounds of it he’s managing your blood very well.” Alcina’s smile quickly disappeared and she dug her claws into the desk. “This experiment only involves him mating, nothing more nothing less.”

After a few moments of thinking, the Mistress let out a defeated sigh. “Fine… Just stop hurting him.”

“He’s a stubbornly tough kid, he’ll be fine.” And with that she hung up.

Putting the receiver down, Alcina rested her head on the table. “This is just a huge emotional mess.” Lifting her head up and looking back at Hayden, who was sitting up on the bed yawning. “Hayden!” Alcina sat up off the chair and swiftly sat next to him on the bed, hugging him.

The hug startled him but he patted her back in return, “How long was I out for?”

Letting him go she smiled at him. “Not long, I was just worried since last nights incident.” Rubbing his neck she was relieved to see the bite mark has vanished. “Next time Mother Miranda ask you to do something, let me know first.”

Hayden gave her a slight nod, an apologetic expression on his face. “Again, I’m sorry about last night. If I had know that you’ll react that way, I wouldn’t have done it that way.” He was silenced by Alcina’s finger lightly pressing against his lips.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Hayden. Mother is the one I’m angry at.” Lowering her hand and getting up off the bed, “but more importantly, how are you feeling?”

Giving himself out of her bed, Hayden stretched his body. “I feel fine, bit sore and drained but a warm shower will help with that.” He went to walk off but Alcina grabbed his shoulder, causing him to turn around. “Hm?”

Removing her left glove and getting a claw out, Alcina made a large deep cut on her palm. Hayden protested but was hushed by her. “The least I could do after last night is let you drink from me. It’s safe to say knowing that you can handle my blood perfectly, you can drink it.” Extending her bloody hand towards him, she continued. “I’m ordering you to do so.”

Letting out a sigh, he took her hand and pressed the wound against his mouth. It did give the Mistress some relief that he’ll be fine blood wise now, she could now only hope that he’ll be fine afterwards.

With a lick of the cut and lips, Hayden let go of her hand. “I’m full, thank you.” After rubbing his mouth he looked up at her. “I’ll be going out on patrol today, just in case there’s more of these Umbrella folk. I’ll be sure to let you know of anything interesting.” And with that he left.

Alcina knew she should’ve mentioned Mother Miranda’s next plans for him, but chose it’ll be best to wait until he gets back. Figured it was best to leave him be for now.

________________________________________________________________

Some time had passed and the sun had lowered enough for the sky to be a dark blue, the snow storm that had been warned of coming was just misinformation. The cold temperature hasn’t changed and most likely never will.

The Mistress sat in the family room, Mother Miranda sitting just across from her drinking tea. It was visible that the Mistress was troubled by her sudden presence but kept quiet about it, she knew she was here for Hayden but a carriage would’ve been sent down, Miranda likely had something else to do to be here.

“It was a good idea to let Hayden patrol, it helps his health and hunting skills.” Miranda put her empty cup down and looked up at Alcina. “I have gotten word from your brother about the small incident, you should know by now how I feel about you two killing each other.”

Sitting back in her seat and taking a sip of her own drink, “My apologies, but you know how I feel about people sneaking around my castle.” Twirling her glass she looked at the lit fireplace. “But lets change the subject. I know you’re here for something else other than Hayden.”

The woman let out a slight chuckle, “You’re always sharp, that’s why I like you.” She lend down to a bag she had brought with her and picked it up. “When I first put Hayden into your care, I thought that afterwards you’ll keep him as one of your sex toys.” She lightly tossed the bag to the tall Mistress.

“So I was quite shocked to hear you call him your son, never thought you’d take him in as your own. After some thinking I thought it was best to give you all the information I have collected about him.” She crossed her legs and smiled. “I figured you’d want a copy of them.”

Opening the bag and leaning forward, Alcina got out a folder with Hayden’s full name labelled on it. She had to admit, she was surprised that Miranda had given her this. “I appreciate this, but I don’t know why you’d think I want a whole folder of information about him.” She opened up the folder and stared wide eyed at the photos.

“Oh there’s more than just files on his past life, it also includes notes from the test I’ve done to him and more.” Looking at Alcina’s shocked expression she continued. “I started after seeing him survived such a crash.”

The photos were of the crash site Hayden was found in, it was like a crime scene. But that wasn’t what shook Alcina, it was the photo containing Hayden laying in the drivers seat, a tree branch thick enough had been lodged into his head that only his bottom jaw was visible.

Going through the photos more she picked up three that showed his head regenerating back, each one of them labelled four days apart. She stopped looking at the photos and went to read through the files.

“There you are.”

The Mistress snapped her head up and at the source of the sound, making sure to close the folder.

Hayden stood at the room entrance holding a small box, his smile towards Alcina moved over to Miranda as he looked at her. “Oh it’s you, the soup lady from a while back.” He walked towards Alcina and stood next to her. “It’s safe to say that I couldn’t find anything out of place, but I’ll still look around again tomorrow when I can.”

Giving him a satisfied smile, Alcina patted his shoulder. “Good job for making sure the area is safe.” She looked over at Miranda as her smile faded. “Hayden, this is Mother Miranda.”

Hayden blinked a few times before looking at the woman in question, his body straightening up. “Oh, so we have met before.” Walking over to her he extended his hand to greet her. “Well it’s still a pleasure to meet you.”

As Miranda took his hand, he leaned down and kissed it. The gesture made her smile in response and wanted to be vocal about it. “My my, what lovely manners.” She looked at Alcina. “You have done well, Alcina. The women back in my home will appreciate it when I bring him back with me.”

The last sentence caused the young man to stared at her puzzled. “Being me back with you?” He looked over at the tall Mistress. “What is she talking about?”

“I was going to tell you when you got back, but she surprised me with a visit before your return.” Alcina put her drink down on the table. “You’ll be staying with her for an experiment, it’s harmless judging by what’s involved and you’ll hopefully be home by tomorrow.”

Looking back at Mother Miranda, Hayden tilted his head and asked. “What kind of experiment?”

Standing up off the chair, Miranda answered. “I need you to have sex with a few women, get them pregnant. If it’s successful and the babies turn out fine, you don’t have to worry about being involved in their lives.” Noticing his frightened expression, she giggled. “Now that you know, we better get going. I’m in a bit of a rush.”

As she took his wrist to drag him out, he spoke up. “Wa-Wait. Before I go, I have something for Mother.” Alcina blinked a few times in confusion as Hayden walked over to her, handing her the box he was holding when he returned. “It took some time to finish, but I made you this.”

Before she could say anything in response, they left. Mother Miranda must’ve been in a rush.

Sighing in frustration, Alcina looked at the box before slowly opening it and gasped. She got out a choker necklace. The golden curb had small pearls connected to it with a flower matching the choker material dangling slightly on the center.

A blissful smile grew on the tall lady’s face, “It’s beautiful.” She whispered before putting it on, it fitted perfectly. Gently caressing the metal flower, she hummed.

Her humming stopped upon remembering the folder, looking down she opened it up again. Grabbing the files she flickering through them, she picked out the top file and read it. While reading it was clear that Mother Miranda is interested in Hayden, but it was in a twisted way. She felt sick to the stomach knowing that she'll likely mate with him, but they were already gone so there wasn't anything she could do. She closed the folder and rubbed her temple.

"She better return him."

[normallee]

Furious Coffae || Tasmyn and Norma

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Coffee Plus PARTIES: @tasmyn-pearce and @normallee SUMMARY: Norma goes to get her “caffiene hit” as she’s told people do and makes new friends with a certain spriggan.

Coffee was such a human invention. They were so bland and boring, of course they were tired all the time. As much as Tasmyn hated to admit it though, it was wicked delicious. She had over time become very intrigued how different countries across Europe made coffee. She liked the fancy sweet ones the best. And the iced ones. And while she didn’t need coffee to keep her energy up, she did have one nearly every day. Today, when she arrived at Coffee Plus she noticed that the line was impossibly long. She sighed heavily as she got into the back of the line. If she hadn’t already set her heart on having a nice iced caramel frappuccino today she would have just left. Reluctantly, she decided that she would have to just wait for her turn to order. After all, that’s what humans expected people to do in situations like this.

Coffee culture seemed like a cult to Norma. She rather enjoyed cults, they brought so much controversy with them. They were such easy feeding grounds. While she wasn’t currently looking for a platform to work her magic, unfortunately, she was looking to blend in with mortals and they all seemed to enjoy this Coffee Plus location. She was no stranger to the dark, bitter liquid, it had been around for centuries now, but the pervasiveness of these cafes with complicated orders were a relatively new phenomenon that she didn’t fully understand. However,if she wanted to appear human, what better way than with a status symbol in the form of a small paper cup? As Norma walked directly to the counter, she wondered if any actual essence of a man named Joe was in the beverage she was about to order. That made it sound much more appealing to her. “One cup of Joe, please. Not John, he sounds less pleasant,” she told the cashier.

As Tasmyn patiently waited her turn she spotted a rather lovely looking woman walk into the cafe, ignore the line completely, and walk right up to the corner to place her order. She was both wildly impressed and disappointed in herself for not thinking to do such a thing herself. Sure, humans got controlling over their coffee. But for the most part, Tasmyn had always found them to be quite passive. She was quite curious to see how this was going to go, so she abandoned her spot in line and moved closer to the woman who had, very specifically, ordered some Joe. “Have you ever tried the blended iced coffees? They take all the bitterness out and replace it with sweetness!” She offered, offhandedly to the other woman. Admittedly, she was hoping to hop in on the swift ordering, but she wouldn’t be disappointed if that didn’t end up happening.

Norma was startled that someone else in the shop had spoken to her that was not an employee. And in a pleasant tone at that! So often humans were groggy and grumpy while waiting in cafes. In fact, most of the people standing behind them were exactly that and were grumbling as well. “A blended ice coffee? No I haven’t!” Norma turned to the cashier and said, “I would like one of those! Oh, actually, two of those. For the suggestion.” Norma gave the brunette a smile. “I’m Norma, it’s nice to meet you.” Before she could get a reply, another customer came up to them. “Um, excuse you,” the blonde behind her said. She looked rather perturbed. Norma couldn’t figure out why. Maybe she was a John fan. “Oh yes, I apologize, I should have said excuse me. Excuse me! Thank you!” Norma told her. She turned back to her newest colleague. “You don’t know her, right?”

Tasmyn had a good feeling about this woman. Not only did she take her suggestion with a smile, but she had also ordered her a drink as well. Finally, a human in this town who got it. Or, well, at least a not-fae. She had been mistakenly presuming all people who weren’t fae were human in this town, and rather quickly she was discovering how not true those assumptions were. “You’ll love it! Unless you don’t like sweet things. But? Who doesn’t like sweet things? I haven’t ever met someone who said ‘no thank you, that’s too sweet!’” To think she had almost decided not to come into the cafe today. “I’m Tasmyn! You have such a lovely name, Norma.” She huffed in slight annoyance when the woman who had previously been first in line said something to her new friend, Norma. “What’s that expression you american’s love? You snooze, you lose? You can get your coffee next.” People were so rude sometimes. “No, very thankfully I do not know that woman.”

Norma wasn’t sure how she felt about sweet things, at least not sweet coffee. It seemed a bit like an oxymoron. But she was certain she would find out! “It’s very nice to meet you, Tasmyn! I enjoy your clever comebacks and I’m very glad you don’t associate with this woman.” Norma leaned in to whisper, though not very quietly, “She seems very angry.” The blonde gave an offended huff and it delighted Norma, truly. “Here is my payment, cash man. Please take it and bring us the coffee,” she said, turning back to the cashier who seemed flustered, but ultimately decided it was best to just go with the flow and not argue with her.

“Hey, what’s going on up there?!” a man a little farther back questioned. A few others chimed in and Norma could feel the anger and hostility brewing within them, deep and dark like the liquid pouring out from the metal machines nearby. She wanted to drink it down and feel it filling her with energy. “These two cleary don’t know what a line is,” the blonde snipped back, eyes glaring daggers into them both. It brought a smile to Norma’s face. It was nowhere near as satisfying as using her powers properly, it wasn’t the full unfiltered chaos she craved. But maybe, she could reach out. It was right there, right at her finger tips. The strife and anguish she could stir up so easily. Her hand hovered in front of her, daring her to touch the blonde and whisper in her ear. But she stopped, clenched her hand and dropped it away, pulling Tasmyn along with her instead to wait for the coffee, away from temptation. “I heard it comes out over here. We should follow the silly hu-- I mean, the rules. Just the rules.”

For the first time ever, Tasmyn was genuinely surprised that she didn’t sense any fae in this woman. But she had such a good energy about her, and everything she was saying made perfect sense to her. Yet, she wasn’t fae. There was no way she could be human… could she? Were humans capable of being this awesome? Unlikely. Especially when she saw her listening to the people in line complain. She was just as entertaining as Tasmyn was. Which made sense, the people in line were clearly just embarrassed they didn’t think to do this themselves. Without hesitation, she followed Norma as she pulled her along away from the register. “Have you never been here before?” Tasmyn shrugged at her second comment, “Rules are so boring. So constricting.” Maybe it was because she felt empowered by skipping the line, or maybe it was the mushrooms calling her name in the distance, but she decided to take the next drink that was placed down on the counter for pick up. The barista placed it down, announced a large mocha latte for ‘Megan’, and Tasmyn just swooped in and collected it off the counter and brought the hot beverage to her lips. “Oooh, that’s better than I thought it was going to be!” She announced to her new friend with a smile.

“No, I haven’t! I have been to Coffee Plus Plus, though! They’re far slower over there. The service here is so speedy! I very much enjoy it more.” Norma could feel the ire of everyone in line growing. God it was delicious, if only she could stir the pot a little bit more. Her head snapped back to Tasmyn as she mentioned rules. “Oh yes, they are. But it’s fun to watch them bend and break as it were. But I do try my best to be a law abiding citizen and American. For the record!” Her lips pursed in a moment of confusion. Norma had lived far too long to care too much about committing things to memory, it turned out most facts were in fact useless, but she was fairly certain her new friend was named Tasmyn. She had recalled that correctly, hadn’t she? Megan sounded similar to a point. Maybe she had heard it incorrectly. “Is your name also Megan? Or does it just not matter what name you give them?” Before awaiting a proper answer, the barista called out a drink for a “Karen.” Norma did the exact same as Tasmyn and grabbed the drink in question with a quick thanks. She took a sip and… “Ugh,” she exclaimed, making a face as the bitterness and artificial flavors met her tongue. “Is this a cherry flavored coffee? Gross! Who does that?” Norma put the cup back down on the counter and slid it back to the barista. “Please try again, thank you.” From the side, a woman with a rather unfortunate haircut practically screeched. “That was mine!” she said, huffing and puffing. “Do you think steam could actually come out of her ears?” she asked Tasmyn in what she thought might be a whisper.

Since moving to town, Tasmyn had a hard time finding people with a similar outlook on life. But Norma seemed to get it. “Well, I’m not a citizen nor an American, but I suppose there's nothing wrong with trying to abide by the laws.” Asshe took another sip of her stolen drink, she could hear a woman, presumably Megan, complaining to one of the employees. “Yes! She just took my coffee, the one I paid for. Now I’m going to be late for work!” It made Tasmyn chuckle a little, the human reliance on coffee being their own downfall was quite entertaining. “No, I’m Tasmyn not Megan. But, I don’t think it matters what name you give them? Well, it does as in that’s the name they’ll call out when your drink is ready, but you can tell them your name is anything.” It was becoming clear that not only the customers were mad at the pair of them, but the employees were looking furious too now. Maybe because now they had to re-make the drinks knowing they weren’t getting more money for doing so. Tasmyn sipped again on Megan's drink, noticing that the new drinks coming out weren’t just being placed on the counter in front of them, but held until the actual customer came to claim them. “Oooh! That would be fun! But, I’ve never seen that happen before. Is that something hum- uh, people do?”

Somehow Norma felt as if it should be obvious to her that Tasmyn was not an American but, as it was, she still had no idea how borders worked or why or what they even were anymore. “Interesting. Where are you from? See I’ve been told following the law is the best way to stay out of trouble. Which is obviously something I liked to do.” That was untrue. But for the sake of her safety, she had to try at least. She started tapping her foot while waiting for a non-disgusting coffee, the supposed Megan and Karen glaring at her. Norma simply smiled and gave them a small “polite” wave. It seemed to incense them more. Wonderful. “Someone should really tell them that names are irrelevant in that case. They are very hung up on this.” Norma craned her neck to see if the disgruntled employees were making her new non disgusting drink. She couldn’t tell. But she could tell they were all flustered and grumpy. Her head tilted as she heard a similar tick to her own. The small slip of “hum” before swapping words. Was this simple social mirroring that most humans were prone to? Or did it mean something else? “I have never seen it literally happen to a human, no. Not naturally.Not without a little assistance.” She decided to test the waters, see how it landed. Likely this was not another fury she was speaking to, but there were plenty of options in between.

“Cornwall.” Tasmyn replied simply, her attention turning to the second part of Norma’s statement. “One could argue we’re about to get in trouble right now though. Which, honestly I don’t mind. Trouble is fun sometimes.” Usually Taz was the person in the room most uneducated about human politeness, but she was wondering if maybe she had met her match. “That’s because people are too reliant on their caffeine. So they don’t like us for creating a barrier to it. Because they think these drinks belong to them just because they paid for them. Which is an insane way to think about things.” As she looked around she saw a few of the baristas talking to some woman who was dressed slightly nicer than the other employees but still had a name tag on. Maybe the boss, hmmm… interesting. She presumed they were discussing her and Norma. “Assistance?” Her ears perked up and she returned her attention to her partner in coffee crime. “What kind of assistance?” There was a small smirk that spread across her lips. This woman wasn’t fae, but maybe she wasn’t exactly a human either. “Because, that would make this day far more entertaining…”

Norma nodded, searching her mind for where Cornwall was or could be. It sounded vaguely European, but then again, so did most American locations. Considering how settlement and colonization worked. She considered most of the old names superior but then again, she hardly remembered those anyway. Her head shot towards her new friend at the mention of trouble. “We are?” Her lips pursed as she tried to determine how to proceed. Part of her thought about running away, avoid trouble, but then again, she wasn’t alone in this. Surely between the two of them, they could pass the blame or cause enough confusion to get out of this. Maybe.

“Oh, I see. That makes sense. Though I do suppose a fair exchange of currency for goods is to be expected. Though it seems to be occurring with or without their expected timeliness.” Which, speaking of, she assumed it was her turn fairly soon, but just in case, she started waving at the baristas. Who, at this point, ignored her. How rude. “It looks like you have to wait your turn after all,” the Karen lady snipped. And as if on some sort of cue, the name Norma was called and she swept in to grab her drink. “It seems I do! This is much better, good job, coffee person. This effort is far superior to last time. You should always do this instead.” The barista looked confused but shrugged and went back to steaming milk, surely to take her advice while this Karen steamed herself. “Yes, assistance,” she assured. “I was thinking along the lines of a little… magic,” she added with a smirk. “You know, if one was skilled in that sort of thing. Perhaps?” It was a shame she couldn’t tap into her own store of powers. But it was worth asking if her new found friend was capable of causing enough chaos for them both.

“Just a little bit.” Tasmyn said with a slight shrug of her shoulders. Breaking rules never bothered her, mostly because they usually seemed like stupid ways to make life more difficult than it needed to be. When she heard the bitter coffee woman talk, she turned around towards her and sighed, “Waiting is so stupid. If you just grabbed any drink you could’ve been well on your way to where you need to go by now.” As she turned back she smiled widely at the fact that Norma seemed to be enjoying her coffee suggestion. “Isn’t it so wonderful! Much better than just normal coffee. Normal is boring anyways.” Not long after, the barista placed down Tasmyn’s cup and called out her name. Happily, she snatched it up off the counter and took a big sip of it. “Magic?” She replied, eyes wide and her tone in a soft whisper. She couldn’t tell if this was some sort of test or not. Was she a hunter trying to trap her? Fortunately, the truth wouldn’t really get her into any trouble here. “I’m not personally magically inclined.” Now she was slightly disappointed, it would have been hilarious to see her friend make steam come out of these rude peoples ears. “We should go try to befriend someone who is skilled in magic. That would be fun!”

“Oh yes, it’s wonderful! Definitely better than nor--” Norma’s eyes went wide as she realized what she was about to say. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with being normal, though, of course. In fact, I consider myself to be perfectly normal. I mean, look at me!” she said, gesturing to herself with a nervous laugh. True, she hated having to be a boring basic human, but it was the safest way. So proving her normalcy and leaning into it was vital to her survival, like it or not. She took another long sip of her drink, hoping it could give her a moment to collect herself, be “normal” again. At least coffee was normal, right? She was well on her way with that alone. “You’re not?” she asked back, a little shocked that the very odd and fun woman she was talking to was somehow not inclined to magic. It seemed unfathomable. She couldn’t possibly be just a human, could she? They weren’t capable of this sort of chaos on their own. “That’s a shame, but yes, we should! I used to know many people who were knee deep in the dark arts. Light, too, but those were less fun. I’m a little bit unable to tap into my own source of power in this town. If you follow.” This was more than she should be telling any stranger, true, but it seemed a risk worth taking. And if things went wrong, well, she was exceptionally hard to kill.

“Normal is a bit boring for my tastes.” Tasmyn responded matter-of-factly. She’d never understand the human fascination with being just like everyone else. Maybe her attempts to live in human towns and try to not draw all that much attention to herself would be easier if she just gave in and tried to be normal. But that simply wasn’t how she wanted to live her life. Generally, Taz was a rather trusting fae. She believed that people were often telling the truth, and maybe that was because she herself couldn’t do anything except tell the truth. While she knew Deirdre had warned her to be careful for hunters, she made the choice to trust her new coffee friend. “I can… do some things that some people might call magic. But, that regrettably does not include making steam come out of human’s heads.” She wasn’t entirely sure what it meant to not be able to access her power in this town. Were there beings that couldn’t do magic in certain places? Or was there some anti-magic hex surrounding the town? “I don’t follow. But it sounds like a very intriguing story!” While she loved making friends of all kinds, mystical and powerful friends were her favorite to make.

It was boring for her tastes, too, but there was no way she would be able to announce that here. “It can be very exciting sometimes, I’m sure,” Norma said, not sure if she was trying hard to convince her new friend or herself. It would be alright. She wouldn’t have to keep up this charade forever, surely. Demons got bored eventually. They’d lift those bounties someday, right? Norma took a sip of her coffee and tired to ignore the sinking feeling brewing her belly at the thought. There was no doubt in her mind, however, that Tasmyn was supernaturally inclined. Though not a witch. “You seem to have a natural talent for chaos, magic or otherwise. It’s quite impressive.” Norma supposed that new furies were made all the time, it was entirely possible this was a new one she didn’t know of. Human was out of the question, she knew that much. It might be safe to test the waters a little further. “It’s a very long story. One that I don’t know all the ins and out of just yet. Maybe I’ll explain it to you sometime later.” Norma could already feel some of her facade slipping just knowing she was talking to someone who was likely not human. Perhaps that was a mistake, considering they were still surrounded. With a sigh, Norma sipped her coffee and decided it needed something extra. She looked over behind the counter and saw those fun pumps of liquid there. She reached over and pumped one right into her drink, despite the barista’s protests. It couldn’t hurt, right? She took a sip and… ‘Ugh, not good. Can you fix this?” she said, handing her drink over to the barista. “Get. Out!” he shouted “Both of you! Out!” Norma looked around for who he could be talking to. Did he mean her? And her new friend? “Well that’s rather rude!” She remarked, snatching her drink back. And the one sitting at the counter.

Tasmyn smiled at the compliment. Or at least she took the comment about chaos as a complement. “Thank you. You’ve got quite the talent for it too.” While she had found a handful of friends in town who were willing to do wild and possibly irresponsible things with her, the fact that this total stranger was so open to it all was refreshing. They didn’t know each other, yet they seemed to understand each other, at least a little bit. “I would very much like to hear that story sometime later.” Was that a way of making future plans? She hoped so, she wanted to be friends with Norma. Tasmyn gaped a little when she saw Norma reach over the counter and put a pump of flavoring into her drink. Sure, nothing they had done in there today had been orthodox coffee shop behavior, but this was ingenious. Create your own flavors. Mix and match. She was about to do the same thing, going for a different flavor though since the one Norma picked didn’t seem to be great. But then the barista spoke. “What? Excuse us. We are customers. The customer is always right. I work at a restaurant, so I know that!” In defiance, she reached over the counter and put a big pump of raspberry flavor into her drink. They were just trying to enjoy their experience. Then the person from before, maybe the manager approached them. “Ladies. I need you both to leave or we will be forced to call the cops.” That struck a bit of worry into Tasmyn’s stomach. The cops? That seemed like an over exaggeration. She turned to her partner in alleged coffee crime, “What should we do?” She asked in a whisper.

“Thank you!” Norma replied instinctively. “I mean, I’m not that chaotic. I’m simply a normal human. Just a human,” she said quickly, trying to cover her slip up, making sure that the last part of her speech was the loudest. Just in case anyone was listening. “I would very much like to tell it to you! Just not here. In the open. I don’t think Megan would full appreciate it.” That said, she was having a grand time with her new friend. Up until a very forceful woman came up to them and asked them to leave. Norma froze a moment before realizing what the consequences of this could really be. Tasmyn whispered to her but here was no question in her mind what she had to do. “The cops? Oh no, I’m a law abiding American citizen! No cops, no thank you! Goodbye!” Norma scooped up as many coffee cups as she could carry from the counter before turning to book it. “Thank you, coffee people! Bye! Nice meeting you Tasmyn! Let’s meet again soon!”

[amnachil]

The College Society Chapter 4 Part 9

Next part!

Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey Saturday April 20

What had he said again ? I won't protect you anyway. Right. Fucking joke. Who the hell had he tried to fool ? His past self would've laugh so much at his actual self. He was fucking ridiculous. He perfectly knew Lucy the whore had something in mind. She and bitchy Miranda wanted to catch Liam, he had no doubt about that. Pretty obvious that the loser would take Doll man. They even bring along a third weel for Fatty roommate. Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey had all the reason in the world to go there and fuck the two dickhead right away. So why on earth was he hidden behind a fucking tree ? Why the hell was he only watching for afar uh ? Oh yeah the plan. Because Liam thought he could deal with that alone, the Dean's grandson had decided to trust him. What an idiot I am. Anyway, it would be good for his boyfriend if he was able to do something by himself. It would help his confidence. And a confident Liam was a ballsy and naughty Liam. A win-win situation. If only the baboon manage to escape the so-called witch, that is. The group headed towards the subway and he followed suit. He observed them through a newspaper, which attracted the attention of two old hags. Want to suck my dick ? I'm already dying of embarassment, don't make it harder. For now, Lucy was doing most of the conversation. Miranda tried to cling on to Liam, but he slipped away. Nice one babe. Eventually, they arrived at their destination : a fancy restaurant, which also had a dance hall. Would you believe ! Fuck the site which had revealed the baboon was a walking stomach.

"Sir are you alone ?"

Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey glared at the waiter.

"What do you think moron ? One table, and not far from this group."

The idiot looked at the pointed direction and made a face. Oh please.

"I'm sorry but..."

"Here's my ID. My family owns this place. Any other remark ?"

"No of course not. Follow me sir."

Yes, the junior knew this poor waiter only did his job. But damn he was just so pissed. I'll contact him later for sex. Hope it will make it even.

To say Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey was interested by the way Liam ate was completly wrong. It just happened in front of him so often that he became used to watch. Speaking of, watching the baboon from afar made the junior almost moan in public. Almost. Fuck that. I hate this world. Liam wasn't a messy eater at all. Quite the opposite actually : he had a certain charm and timidy while eating. He always started by his less favorite dish, and at a slow pace. Throughout his meal, his speed would increase. The baboon made always a point at being well-groomed and now wasn't an exception. From his spot, Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey observed him licking his lips several times. And damnit that was hot. The idiotic girls gave many plates to the baboon but they didn't feed him, which probably saved their life from the junior's wrath. Liam's body language was graceful, with no useless movement. His eyes. They're shining so much it blinds me from here. Damn. Damn. The waiter didn't comment on the Dean's grandson weird behavior, but he obviously saw his hard-on. You would be aroused too if your boyfriend was that hot ! Fuck you. Around the fourth or fifth plate (nobody counts those), another thing happened. Liam's belly started to grow. It was nothing but Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey was staring too much to not notice. The baboon had always been attractive. His recently acquired chubbiness made him even more handsome. And when he started to get stuffed... This is terrible.

"Sir, do you want anything with your coffee ?" asked the ever-patient waiter.

Man. I just... Fuck.

"You. Me. Bathroom for a quickie. Is that fucking alright ?" the blond lad suggested.

"We can do that." smiled the other.

When he came back in the room, he felt calmed. His desires were temporaly satisfied and the waiter had been nice enough to forgive him for his rudeness. After that, I'm sure he would've offered me the moon. Fatty roommate was still at their table with Third weel. As for Liam, the two bitches dragged him and Doll Man to the dance floor. For now, the baboon was barely moving, just watching them wriggle like two turkeys. Maybe I should go there and put an end to this ridiculous date ? Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey's phone suddenly rang.

"Best spy of the world to biggest penis of the world." said Nancy when he answered. "Got news for you."

"I'm listenning."

"I managed to track the IP of the moderator of the site in Canada." she revealed. "His name is George Blikes."

One dead man. I swear once I find you dude.

"But that's not all." Nancy continued. "I did a check of his background and bingo ! George is Samy's ex from highschool. Officially they're not in contact anymore but it's easy to keep these things secrets now."

"Samy." Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey muttered.

This... Fucking braindead asshole. Stupid fuckup. She would never see the light again. I need to call D.R. That could wait. Once his boyfriend safe, he would pay the asshole a visit. A very awaited visit. However, he had another problem at hands. Because his boyfriend just broke Lucy's nose with a probably deserved but yet violent punch in the face.

Liam Saturday April 20

"Are you sure you don't wanna dance ?" asked Lucy for the third time.

"I'm fine thanks." the lad politely declined.

Throughout lunch, he had understood two things. Firstly, the witch intented to charm him in order to corrupt his energy. This way, she would poison the unicorns and kill them. Secondly, the force of lights were stronger than he had imagined. It's no surprise the unicorns sent Colton to help me. His friend's dance was so graceful that it fascinated the human sacrifice named Miranda. And Nick was distracting the other, a girl Lucy introduced as Velma. The chestnut lad himself was well-fed and in top form. I can focus on our main ennemy : the witch. She smiled to him.

"Tell me pretty boy, I heard from a friend you were into food games a lot. I have an offer for you." she suggested. "I'll let you do things to me for each additionnal plate you eat. How does it sound ?"

Very evil ? He had yet to find a way to defeat her without violence. Maybe he needed to reason her...

"It's tempting." he lied. "At least the food part."

I wonder what Damian would think about that. Liam could do many things to him while stuffing his face with delicious cuisine. Maybe stripping him one clothe after the other for each plate he finished... And why not make bolder and bolder caresses, going closer to his intimate parts...

"You're dribbling." Lucy hissed. "Are you that much of a feedee ?"

The young lad blushed. Whatever he had been thinking was better forgotten. Or not. (He mentally decided to keep the idea for latter). Anyway back to the main topic. He had a witch to beat.

"Why're you doing this ?" he asked. "What did they promise you in exchange ?"

She blinked, seemingly confused.

"Can't a woman woo a man she finds attractive ?" she countered. "You're my type you know ?"

"C'mon I know you've a purpose... Do you know this is bad ? You shouldn't force people to do things they don't want. You look like a nice girl, you should follow the right path."

He was kinda proud of his little speech. Let's hope it'll make her change her mind. Lucy frowned and took several seconds to think. Maybe something was bothering her ?

"Is it about the money ?" she finally asked. "We can share if that's what you want."

The forces of evil hired her of course. Maybe it was Liam's own father who did such a malevolent thing ?

"Sorry but you won't corrupt me that easily. I don't want any dirty money. And you neither, it only brings problem. What if the cops are after you ?"

He was convinced the police were an army enterily built by the unicorns to maintain order. Lucy grunted.

"Nobody has to know. It'll be fast, just some photo and we're good..." she mutterred. "Don't be a prick."

The chestnut lad was about to decline (again) when his phone rang. Surprisingly, it was his sister Chloe. What is it ? She never calls unless it's important.

"Sorry but I need to take that." he said.

He entered in the bathroom to talk peacefully. A groggy waiter was leaving, but otherwise, it was empty.

"Hi sis." he answered.w "Is everything okay ?"

A muffled noise told him it was not. He had been knowing Chloe for the fifteen years of her life and he could count on one hand the times she had cried. Even as a baby, she had been way more tough than Luka or him. The last time he heard her sobbing was when he had been accused of manslaughter. It was a sound he resented. A sound he was hearing now.

"Chloe ? What it is ? Can you talk ?"

She only cried louder. He cursed his own helplessness. Why was he here and not with her ? What a stupid big brother ! Stop that Liam. Now is not the time to lament on yourself. She needs you.

"I'm here sis. Right here." he assured. "You can cry as much as you want, I won't leave until you're feeling better."

"It's silly." she mumbled. "Sorry for worrying you."

Don't be. Don't do that. She had always been very mature and serious. A commom joke between them was to call her mother number two. But Liam would always worry about her. She was still a teenager. In light of his past actions, she had often kept her feelings for herself to not put any additional pressure on him. That was his beautiful and strong sister, who always protected him.

"I..." she whispered. "I just miss mom. That's stupid isn't it ? I lost a race today and I was so disappointed. I needed someone to talk but heck, all my friends are in another town. My mother is in another town. And I can't call her when I'm like that. She'll blow a fuse and come right away."

He never hated his family's situation more than at this moment.

"Can I tell you my day ?" she asked. "Just for a moment and I'll be fine."

"Whatever you want sis. Whatever you want."

When he left the bathroom, Liam had only one desire. To sleep. Even if it was only three in the afternoon and he had work later. Chloe was feeling better, which was a plus, but it only made him realise how everything was still so... wrong. She's way stronger than me that's for sure. However, the freshman barely got the time to breath. Lucy alsmot went for his throat.

"Welcome back handsome." she chirped. "What took so long ?"

"That's not your business." he replied. "And I'm sorry but I need to go."

He could feel an headache incoming. I'm so tired.

"Certainly not." the girl said. "I didn't suck my ego to hit on a dumbass like you for nothing. Come here."

She grabbed her arm and tried to lead him towards the bathroom. Which was ridiculous because he was bigger and heavier.

"Let me go please." he asked. "I'm not in the mood for anything you want to do."

Lucy ignored him. She strengthened her grip, making him wince in pain. He tried to free himself, but the girl suddenly pushed him on the wall. Her hands find a way to his crotch. And that was the final straw. He has enough of her, her scheme and her rudeness. Couldn't she let him alone ?! Pushed by his instinct, he did what he thought necessary to made her back off. He distincly heard a loud crack when his fist smashed her face open. He felt more than he saw everyone looking at them. He heard her scream of pain. And his slow brain realised he was doing another panic attack.

"You hit me in the face !" she yelled.

All he noticed was the blood. He heard thunder. Someone shouted.

"Kilian !"

No. No no no. A familiar head of blond hair ran towards him. He was back one year ago on this road. The young lad paniced. He knocked whoever tried to grab him over. He glanced at the exit. It wasn't far. Maybe he could go for it.

"Liam Strucker, you're charged of manslaughter by the present tribunal. What do you plead ?"

The chesnut lad ran. His legs moved on their own.

"What do you plead ?"

The crack of Lucy's bones resonated in his mind. He pushed the door and hurtled in the street. He had no time to lose. He needed to go the farthest possible.

"What do you plead ?"

Guilty. I'm guilty of everything. I hurt Kilian. I destroyed my family. I hurt Lucy. I did all that.

Nicolas Saturday April 20

The not-a-date rendez-vous went from 0 to 100 in a split second. The young lad was discreetly trying to play at pokemon while Velma was making the conversation when they heard the scream. The first thing he noticed was Liam's fist, covered in blood. Lucy fell on her knees, writhed in pain. Holy shit. Everything went crazy. Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey left his hideout (not that he was very discreet to begin with) and rushed towards his boyfriend. But this one didn't hear him. He jostled a waiter and ran to the door. Nick barely had the time to get up before his roommate disappeared in the street. What the hell was that ?

"He hit me !" shouted Lucy. "That fucking moron hit me !"

Her friends were already at her side. Miranda was agitated, while Velma only watched from afar. Something is wrong.

"What took him ?" asked Colton. "He's usually better at handling his emotions."

"Dunno dude." the geek replied.

They both came closer. Her nose is broken. That's not pretty.

"He'll hear about me !" Lucy assured. "I swear to god, I will report him ! This prey is crazy ! The hunt is not worth it."

Nick froze. What did she just say ? Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey ordered her to shut the fuck up. He then turned to the boys.

"Doll man, Fatty roommate. We need to find him before he does something even stupider. Any ideas ?"

Colton answered, but the dark-haired freshman didn't listen. The hunt ? His brain was thinking fast. Imagenius talked about a reward. And Beauty admitted her boss was Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey... Is it possible that Liam is the prey ? Is he being used ? It would explain why a lot of their fellow students were interested in him. (Yes Liam was hot, but nobody was hot enough to interest that many people, except maybe this soccer player Muller something).

"Earth to fatty roommate !" yelled the Dean's grandson to get his attention. "Colton is going to the park and I go to Pasta's Place just in case. You go back to your apartment. If he's not here, check with Nate if he has any idea. Okay ?"

Nick ogled him. Could he be only involved for the reward ? Now wasn't the time to think about it. They needed to find Liam. But I will clear that mess up...

When he arrived at the apartment, the dark-haired lad knew Liam would be there. A trail of broken trash can said it all. He entered silently, hoping to find his friend in a better mood than half an hour ago.

"What the hell happened back there dude ?"

Nick shrieked like a girl when a tall shadow blocked his view. A monster !! He heard the sound of chewing.

"Woah chill pal. It's me."

He finally noticed Archie. For someone his size, this damn footballer could be very discreet. He scared the hell out of me that bastard. It wasn't unusual for him to come over and talk with Nate when they were away. He's a friend of Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey... I wonder if he's a hunter ?

"So ?"

"Liam freaked out because of what Lucy did." explained Nick. "I don't know the specifics, but it was related to the hunt or something ? He paniced."

If Archie knew something, he hid it well. He looked at the geek with his two big eyes and grabbed an handful of crips.

"Damn that sucks." he said. "Nate is with him right now so Imma get going. Text me if there is anything I can do."

"Sure."

Nick waited an hour before he sent a text to Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey. To let my poor roommate breathe. Then, himself knocked at Liam's door. Nate opened and outlined a brief smile. Behind him, it was pretty clear that their friend had fallen asleep. He had work tonight, but maybe her boss would be cool about it. Once he was sure everything was under control, the dark-haired lad headed to his bedroom. He heard the Dean's grandson strom into the apartment, but it wasn't his problem anymore. I have a more urgent business. There is something really weird going on and I want to find what. It was for Liam's safety but also to satisfy his curiousity.

*TheSavior opened a private chat with Abeautifulwoman*

< TheSavior : Yo. >

< Abeautifulwoman : You put a period ! Is it your diet ? Look idk how fat you are but I'm sure you can get rid of a few kilo easy peasy ! I believe in yu boss ! >

Yeah I'll come back to you about that. Until now, he hated this whole diet idea with his whole being. But it was necessary.

< TheSavior : It had nothing to do with my diet. I want you to tell me what the hunt is about. >

< Abeautifulwoman : Not you too... Bro I swear this is a dangerous thing. You don't want to be involved >

She already said that to Imagenius. But Nick had more or less understood what it was about. He only needed confirmation.

< TheSavior : Look beauty. My friend is Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey's boyfriend. From what I witnessed today and in the past weeks, I can tell there are a lot of people after him. I know your boss is a hunter, and I know he's not very sympatic, but I do hope he likes me a bit. All I want is to know what is going on. Is my roommate not safe ? Is it Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey's fault ? >

< Abeautifulwoman : ... Who are you ? How can I be sure you're Sav ? This is too much of a coincidence. Are you working for Samy ?! Just know that we're after you. D.R and us won't let you get away with it. >

< TheSavior : are you serious right now ? >

*Abeautifulwoman is disconnected*

The fuck ? Seriously ?! Nick grunted. That idiot ! But if it was a big deal, he could understand her distrust. It hurts, but she gave him some info to work with anyway. Samy uh ? And D.R... He didn't like the idea of Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey being a manipulative asshole who was using Liam. He doesn't even look the part. But it was a possibility. He needed to investigate more... Nick would know everything about the hunters and the famous hunt.

To be continued

When you’re hunting, and the prey is way stronger than you.

Lucy is stupid but no, I don’t encourage violence of any kind. Liam wasn’t right, but he’s human, and it’s well know he can’t control his emotions very well.

Nick is going to the end of it. He will. Maybe! 

[kiiboumacore]

And here it is! The entry that finishes out @kiiboumaexchange -- a backup fic for @eterna09. Apologies for the wait, I hope it was worth it!

The prompt I was given was:

Kiibo and Ouma fighting over something silly but make up afterwards. Lots of fluff please

So maybe I flubbed the ‘silly’ part a little bit, but I made it super lighthearted and fluffy to compensate. Please enjoy! It's on A03 now, you can find it here. The notes have some more thoughts if you'd like to read.

Title: keeping you close Words: 5477 Pairing: Kiibouma

“It’s getting late.”

When Kiibo says this, Kokichi’s brain hangs up. He clicks his lips and slowly snakes his hand up the robot’s arm. Kiibo clears his throat, raises the appendage along the table, and speaks a little more firmly.

“...Ouma-kun. It is long since time that you went to bed. I will not accept anything less.”

Kokichi doesn’t let go of his arm, but he does feel the need to say something cheeky back. It’s clear that he’s fighting a losing battle, but…

“Don’t wanna. Not tired. Unlike some loser robot, humans can run on willpower alone, did you know?”

Kiibo scoffs. He’s positive, by now, that the “scathing” things Kokichi says can’t make a dent in his fortified self-confidence, but it’s a little hard to resist calling him out all the same. He rises from the table without further debate, returning the hold on Kokichi’s wrist just to give it a light tug.

“You know well by now that this ‘willpower’ of mine lasts far longer than your own. I need rest but once a week--” He stops briefly, only to add with a smirk, “Unlike you. Now, then, that is enough. Follow me.”

Kokichi stares at their joined arms, only leaning his upper half across the table as Kiibo moved. Flat out against it, there really is only one thing he can do. He sweeps his free arm across the top of it, freely scattering an inhumane number of chess pieces on the ground below. Kiibo’s sure his horror has more to do with the racket it creates rather than the mess, but…

“Ugh--Ouma-kun!!”

The culprit smirks as a child would.

“What? Can’t sleep now, gotta clean that up. It’d be sad to leave a mess, right?”

Kiibo finds himself staring exasperatedly at the scattered pieces. Deeply contemplating Kokichi’s words, he reaches a stark conclusion: don’t let him win. Though he itches with the urge to clean the evidence of the leader’s fit, that behavior only grants him more of the same. Always.

So, tearing his gaze away from the mess, he yanks on Kokichi’s arm.

“No! I’m not playing this game, Ouma-kun!” And, anyway, he cannot continue to get what he wants just by being a brat- “That’s enough, we’re going!”

“Oww-- geez!! Fine! Come on, let go of me!” Failure number one: he attempts to hold fast against Kiibo’s tugging. With an aggrieved, defeated groan, he peels himself from the table. “You’re just the worst, Kiiboy…” It’s mumbled so that the robot can hardly make it out. “If you’re salty ‘cos all you do is lose, you could just say that.”

He can’t help but shove the board off the table, too, but mostly for “completionism’s sake”.

The reason that the Supreme Leader had a persistent disdain for such a natural human function like sleeping still remains a mystery to Kiibo, but perhaps it wasn’t anything a little tough love couldn’t correct. That hollow “thunk” of the cardboard hitting the ground behind him has him rolling his eyes again.

Sometimes, it’s a little hard to separate Kokichi’s purposeful mischief from his simple compulsions… However, to Kiibo’s pleasant surprise, the other boy falls cleanly into step with him afterwards. He slides his hand down Kokichi’s arm to take his hand properly; his grip is decidedly loose.

“Kiiboy.”

Just don’t answer him.

“....Hey, Kiiboy!”

If you do, you’ll just rile him up again.

“Wow, you jerk. I gotta super important question, yanno.” Kokichi glances to the side as he says it. His tone is dismissive at worst.

Kiibo doesn’t particularly react. He carries on past the rows of chairs and tables before finally forming a response, the answer to what Kokichi hadn’t yet asked. “I’m taking you to your room. If I am not there to ensure you get a full eight hours of sleep, you will surely escape in the night. Of this, I am certain.”

That explanation is kind of not great. Kokichi’s tongue pokes slightly through his lips. While his concerns are with the fact that his room is off-limits, what he says is something entirely different, characteristic smirk tracing onto his face.

“...For real? Sounds like somebody just wants to watch me sleep--”

“That is not true!” Kiibo, with a delicately reddening face, cuts him cleanly off before he even finishes speaking, and Kokichi snickers wildly. “I-- am looking out for your health, as all good partners should!”

...What book did he read that in?, Kokichi finds himself pondering, but raises another point rolled up in his jubilee. “..I mean, sure, fine. But I gotta warn you--yours truly has a total sleepwalking problem. If you get attacked blindly in the night: not my fault. I’m a pacifist, yeah?”

Kiibo blanches, his surprised eyes regarding Kokichi with suddenly more care than usual. Then, with that, a realization, as sheer distaste on his features. “...That cannot be true. This is the first I’m hearing of it.”

Kokichi grins near immediately.

“Just like I thought! Nothing gets past you, huh?” It’s plainly said in mocking.

Regardless, Kiibo’s noise of affirmation holds all of the confidence in the world.

------------------------------------------

The dorm building in the dwindling hours is kept somewhere between “cold as balls” and “Alaskan meat locker”. Quite a few, if not all, of the other students had already gotten to bed; the lobby is silent and unmoving.

Mostly, though, it’s just dark.

Even in this light, Kiibo can tell Kokichi is hesitant to open the door.

Kokichi steps in first, tossing his keys into a clearly haphazard but somehow still very specific direction in the dark. Kiibo follows the sound it makes with a glance and a bit of a frown. It hasn’t gotten lost yet, but surely it might someday, right?

The world of the Supreme Leader sure is one not of this planet. Shrugging, he trails his hand along the wall for the lightswitch.

Kokichi’s own hand immediately follows, slamming against the plastic and blocking Kiibo from even touching it. The robot blinks in surprise.

“Nooope! Light stays off.”

“...Why?” Still, mostly out of respect, Kiibo drops his hand.

“Gotta. It’s late. Otherwise, I’ll turn into a pumpkin.”

Okay. Kiibo sighs. It’s another one of his boyfriend’s quirks for that seemingly endless list. The robot leaves the doorway without further argument. The dorms have roughly the same layout from person to person, so if he’s careful, making his way to Kokichi’s bed should not be a problem.

But as soon as he hears the door shut behind him, a pair of arms close around his waist.

Kokichi’s lithe form presses against his back and Kiibo settles naturally against it, albeit surprised as he may be. The Supreme Leader’s affection is only ever a private affair, meaning it’s always--Kiibo hesitantly places his hands over Kokichi’s--kind of nice.

“...I lied.” He says listlessly, the smile audible in his voice. His forehead is pressed comfortably against Kiibo’s shoulder blade. “I’m suuuper tired. Sing me to sleep, Kiibaby…”

“I will not.” Kiibo’s eyes are fixed to Kokichi’s arms. A smile of his own had crept onto his features. “...However, I do have a sampling of several lullabies, if you’d like.” It’s rather unsurprising that Kokichi had lied to him, in any case.

His level of energy must have an equal burnout, right?

“Nope. It’s not the same. I want a kiss instead~ I’ll call it even.”

With such a dreamy tone, it’s nearly impossible to tell if he’s joking or not. Surprise again paints Kiibo’s features, and his hands tighten around Kokichi’s. “Ah-- I see… Unfortunately for you, I will choose not to until you are in your bed. I hope you understand.”

He’s exercising his developing sarcasm.

This small fact makes Kokichi laugh. “...I get it. I must be a bad leader if Kiiboy wants to make all the rules..” With this, he moves toward the bed, gently guiding Kiibo as he walks. Kiibo steps with him carefully. The contact is very little, and yet he feels deeply warm.

Kiibo is not given the time to dwell on that for very long, though. The ground quickly moves out from under him!

Kokichi, suddenly not-so-keen on fighting battles he will lose, immediately releases him from his grasp.

Though the fall to the floor is short and almost painless, Kiibo shouts in his shock regardless. Something or other clatters together in the racket. Kokichi stares down at him, bewildered. Whatever it was, he’d cleanly navigated around it…

“..Ouma-kun!” Kiibo feels a little more flustered than anything else, so what else can he do but scream about it. “Leaving whatever you wish on the floor is dangerous! I could have gotten hurt...”

But you didn’t, though… With a slightly uncharacteristic grimace on his face, Kokichi got about quickly scattering the objects with his feet. “Like a buncha marbles could hurt a robot, anyway.. I’m super forgetful, so these things happen.”

Marbles?

Kiibo squints in the dark. Though faint, he can make out the small glass orbs with the light shining from his body.

They’re everywhere.

“...Turn the light on, please.” It’s a demand phrased as kindly as possible. There’s something that makes a little more sense now; Kiibo knows to an absolute what he’ll find when Kokichi obliges him.

Kokichi almost seems to be bracing himself when he does. There’s a breath he hardly realizes he’s holding.

And his room is another realm, too.

To say nothing of the marbles, there’s hardly any empty floor space at all. Toys and small, useless kitchen appliances in their unopened boxes are stacked wherever they would fit. Even tinier figurines of characters Kiibo has never heard of line any flat surface. Kokichi’s bed is at the center of it all, decked out with plushies.

Kiibo quickly hops to his feet, the shock washing over his entire body. The untouched nature of nearly everything he lays his eyes upon gives an alien feeling of cleanliness...

“What is all of this? You cannot seriously be living this way!”

Kokichi’s body feels cold once more. He folds his arms over his chest. He’d been preparing for something like this for a long time, but… “Huh? Leave me alone! You’re janking my business empire just by lookin’ at it!”

Selling it? Kiibo pauses to ponder that… “That has to be a lie! Ouma-kun, if you need help getting rid of these things, then--”

“No way! It’s mine, so keep your hands to yourself!” As if protective, Kokichi quickly crosses in front of Kiibo to stand before one of the messier stacks of boxes.

“There is no way you need every single thing in this room! I can help you, so--”

Kiibo attempts this offer a second time and Kokichi quickly cuts him off again.

"I don't need your help!!" He exhales, and quickly scoops up an unopened waffle iron. "Your brethren… wouldn't it just break your heart? I guess you don't understand that, since you're just a robot…"

It manages to blindside Kiibo, but only just. "N-no… That's extremely robophobic! And more to the point, has nothing to do with this!" He extends his arms for the box, though. "Hand it here. You do not need it."

Kokichi sticks his tongue out at Kiibo and turns to hide the box from his grasp. "No way, no way, no way! I don't wanna heartless jerk to decide what I get to keep…"

Heartless. Again. Kiibo scoffs outright and balls his fists at his sides. "I will not take this from you. I have gone out of my way to extend my help. Clearly, you have a problem. I cannot imagine that this mess is good for your peace of mind.."

"Doesn't matter!" Static sets in in Kokichi's brain and he tosses the box aside almost carelessly. "It's my stuff. If it drives you so nuts, then get outta my room…!"

The robot huffs in frustration. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

"I don't want your stupid kiss anymore anyway!"

That does it. For the first time since his date of creation, Kiibo says, "Fine, then!" and storms out. This time, he's careful to avoid the marbles. "If you change your mind, there is only one place to find me."

Ah. That was a lie.

Kokichi watches him leave with empty eyes and finds himself fiddling with his hands. Of course he'd actually leave. Thinking something like that, he snatches up a handful of the marbles that had caused this shitshow to begin with. But, because he's so clingy, he'd offer to come back any time. That's Kiibo. Kokichi groans in thought.

The spheres that roll around his hand are swirled in purple and blue. Made to look like miniature galaxies, they're important to him because…

There was a time when Kiibo had been a little less-than-concerned about Kokichi's sleep schedule. He'd been too excited to have someone to keep him company during the hours that anyone else would be asleep. It was Kokichi's favorite time of day.

The AV room smelled of popcorn, but Kokichi had been shoveling pizza into his mouth like his life depended on it. Kiibo's small warning about his figure earned little but a noncommittal grunt and yet another slice.

It made sense that the robot was the only one entirely focused on the movie. If it was an opportunity to learn about what Kokichi liked, he would be a fool not to take it.

Unfortunately, this one seemed a little over the top for him. Robots like himself were hardly meant to be driven into battle, much less ones so dangerous. Shaking his head, he looked over to Kokichi.

"... Have you seen this one before, Ouma-kun?"

"Mm?" Kokichi rolled his head over his shoulder and quickly finished the bite. "...'course I have. I'm an expert, yeah?" He tossed the remains of the crust onto the open box.

Kiibo nodded, then fell silent afterward.

"... What? You bored already?"

"N-no!" Kiibo was quick to try and lie about it, but noting Kokichi's expression, explained himself just as speedily. "...I was just thinking… I'd rather experience something new with you."

If Kiibo is correct, his companion seemed shocked for but a moment. It was quickly replaced by an unreadable smirk, though. "...Is that so?" Kokichi reached a hand out to delicately skirt his fingers along Kiibo's chest, lovingly tracing the plates. "I know of a special something."

That sultry expression is clear as day, and Kiibo's face immediately lights up a searing red. "A-Absolutely not!! I am telling you this for the last time!" He smacks Kokichi's hand away, sending the Supreme Leader recoiling with a loud laugh.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding! You wanna pick something else? I don't mind. Kiiboy chose me, so he's gotta have great taste…"

Just as usual, Kiibo was quick to bounce back from Kokichi's teasing. He rolled his eyes and searched the couch cushions for the remote.

… A slightly less overt flirting attempt would, of course, fail. Kokichi should've known. He clicks his lips and slides a little closer to the robot, enough to press their shoulders together.

"Oi, Kiibaby."

"Hm?"

He reached for a pillow and pressed it against Kiibo's side. His head followed so that he was resting against the other boy. Then, looking at him inquisitively, he asked, "...You mind?"

Kiibo was sure the warm feeling that bubbled up in his chest was just residual embarrassment. He decided to focus on the television instead, suddenly unable to meet that ever-sharp gaze. "...N… Not at all. Are you comfortable?"

Hardly. "Yeah."

A faint smile appeared on Kiibo's face. They were silent for but a moment as Kiibo browsed the movie library.

"Oh yeah, I gotta show you something."

That said, Kiibo is not entirely sure where Kokichi retrieved this thing from. When he looked down, he was holding up a small suede bag. Kokichi parted the top, freely allowing the small spheres to pour all over his arm and himself.

The sound startled Kiibo, but he regarded the marbles with interest. "...Huh? Why marbles?" … and why the mess.

"Dunno. Super neat, right?" He picked one up only to hold it closer to Kiibo's face than entirely necessary. "Looook. Iruma-chan gave 'em to me. Somethin' about me being a 'monkey-brained fuck' and 'totally loving her blue ballsack'--don't gimme that face!! I'm serious!!"

Disregarding his rather vulgar comparison, Kiibo took the marble between his fingers in thought. It's glittery.

This is definitely the kind of thing Kokichi liked…

"She had a super red face, too…" Kokichi snorted. "Think the alien is trying to make friends."

"... If Iruma-san is going out of her way to do nice things for you, you should be a little nicer."

Kokichi scoffed and cozied up to Kiibo yet further. "... Yeah, whatever. I'll work on it."

Even if that was a lie, Kiibo didn't mind. At least he was willing to concede the point at all. Feeling somewhat risky, he slid his arm to rest over Kokichi's shoulder and pulled him in.

Kokichi grinned against the blood that rushed to his face.

…

Stupid, self-righteous Kiibo.

"You dumb robot!!" Kokichi casts the marbles he'd scooped up into the corner of the room. They smash into the floor and erupt into a sea of clatters.

And with a frustrated huff, he stomps toward his bed.

------------------------------------------

Kiibo is something of a stickler for rules.

That does not mean he obeys them. Kokichi finds that, instead, the robot will find hundreds of justifications for his actions. And then, when he is caught regardless…

He sure will scream about it.

Kokichi exits his adjoining bathroom with a dramatic sigh and shuts the door on the steam that threatens to follow. Kiibo, from the other side of his room, is the one who notices first.

He immediately rockets up straight and shouts in surprise for good measure. Ever the jaded one, though, Kokichi simply stares--at first, shock. Then, disbelief. He's the first to speak as Kiibo's expression rapidly becomes more resolute.

"...So? Whaddya have to say for yourself, Kiiboy?"

Kiibo tightens his hands into fists. Suddenly, he seems just about frustrated enough to explode for real. Kokichi's scrutiny is unwavering.

"I-I did not realize that you were--" He realizes that he's answering the wrong question before Kokichi even opens his mouth to say so. "Ngh… I am not sorry, Ouma-kun!! If you are not going to handle this, then I have taken it upon myself to do so!"

Kiibo also hardly understands the concept of minding his own damn business.

Kokichi narrows his eyes. "Why? Do you really care that much about making me miserable? You're super cruel…"

The lofty way that Kokichi speaks only serves to make Kiibo just that much more irritated. "No, no, no! You do not understand! This is for you. Excessive clutter must be bad for your health!"

Kokichi runs his hands through his damp hair. Again with the health. When did Kiibo become so concerned about that?

"Clutter. For real? I got it totally organized, so back off of me!" Just thinking about Kiibo rummaging through his stuff makes him itchy…

Kiibo opens his mouth to spit out another gigantic retort, but freezes. The way he speaks to Kokichi is often quite hectic, but always, if he is to dig, then…

Though he hoped he would calm down if he gave it a moment, he still can't help but yell about it. "...Why are you this way? You have no use for any of this. If you are truly so bothered by my offer, then please explain." Regardless of the answer Kokichi gives him, though, there's no way he'll give up.

Even still, though, it's hardly like Kokichi wants to do this. His mouth forms a word and closes again, he utters only a sound of slight frustration in his distress. Well, it's easy to admit he has a problem--to himself. But Kiibo…

Well, Kiibo worries about him. It's not really so ideal. To share a detail is weakness and--

Kiibo tilts his head, then, in the following silence. He offers something innocuous, "... It's okay. Please trust me." and it happens to be Kokichi's magic words. The leader frowns further and pulls on strands of his hair.

Finally, he says something else. "...Fine! ...I trust you. But I'm gonna tell you a story, so listen up, 'kay? If you interrupt, I'll have your heart harvested."

"Th-- You cannot do that!!"

"Kiiboy."

Kiibo squeaks and presses his fingers together. "...I-- I see. Thank you for the opportunity."

Kokichi nods and steps past Kiibo (who now notices the marbles had been picked up) only to make his way to his desk. He quickly slides one of the drawers open and fishes an object out from it. What he holds up is a decorative keychain--glittery metal stars suspending a sleeping cat, as if dreaming.

Kiibo recognizes it immediately, but remains in the silence he was told to keep.

"... So… I know I told you something super important when we got this guy. I guess it slipped my Kiibaby's mind.." He jingles the keychain as he turns back to look at the robot. "You remember, yeah?"

… while Kiibo isn't sure what Kokichi is on about, of course he remembers. That night was…

Well, while it was one of Kokichi's more dangerous ideas, Kiibo still has to admit how fun it actually sounded. A night on the town, for just the two of them, to get away from this boring school. The leader had been so happy when he suggested it, too.

Seeing that smile, Kiibo had been excited as well.

Kokichi seemed about as frantic as he was excited and happily led Kiibo everywhere that the robot was willing to follow. He found interest in the sprawling arcades and Kokichi's apparent skill at these digital games.

He was happy to try and teach Kiibo, too, offering something like 'special, valuable lessons' and heavily laying the praise on where he could. Though Kiibo would’ve been happy adventuring with Kokichi well into the morning, once he took note of how late it actually was, he was quick to suggest that they return to the academy.

That Kokichi agreed was a pleasant surprise, but he demanded that they ‘hit one more place’, first. His curiosity winning out over his concern, Kiibo accepts this simple condition.

He is then led to a hole-in-the-wall type of place lined to the brim with small gachapon machines. Compared to the arcade, the activity here was dwindling at best. Kokichi offered little instruction, having simply told Kiibo to pick out something for him that seemed interesting.

Thinking back to the marbles, what Kokichi likes is obvious.

It felt irresponsible to waste too much money in a place like that, so Kiibo only rolled the machine of his choosing once. It featured small glittery keychains of various breeds of cat. Shiny collectibles seemed to be his best friend's favorite, after all.

When he flagged down Kokichi once more, the other boy was also holding a capsule ball in his hands. Without any warning and entirely gracelessly, Kokichi tossed the ball straight for Kiibo.

"Here ya go! Catch!"

"W--Waahh!!"

Somehow, he managed to grasp it just before it hit the floor. Kiibo frowned heavily as Kokichi stepped all the way over; the way he patted him on the back for his efforts was almost insulting.

With a scoff, he grumbled out, ".. Thank you, Ouma-kun."

"You're welcome! Since an awesome leader like me picked it out for you, you better be completely honored!"

Ah. Kiibo blinked and stared down at the capsule Kokichi had given him. Knowing then that Kokichi found him something as well, Kiibo felt all the more proud of what he'd picked out.

"..A-Ah. I see. Still, perhaps a warning next time?"

"Next time, it's coming out of your paycheck directly."

"My… my what?!"

Kokichi smacked him lightly on the shoulder blade and spoke loudly. "Quiiiet! As my subordinate, you must have picked out something great, right?"

As usual, his near-constant weaving of words that asked more questions than they answered had Kiibo in a tailspin. He decided to shelve both of these discussions for a later date to focus on what was more relevant, as well: his own capsule. With that, he shook his head and found himself grinning.

"Of course I did. I have studied your taste in gifts, so I know you will love this. Here." He held the blue capsule out to Kokichi.

It was clear that Kokichi had a sarcastic comment lined up to respond with, but his gaze quickly fixed to the ball instead. From a quick look, it was impossible to make out the contents, so he simply took it and rolled it around in his hand.

Kiibo hesitated before asking, "...Are you...not going to open it?"

"Nooope. It's flashier to wait a minute, isn't it?"

He had no idea what Kokichi meant by that. It seemed pointless, so he opened up the red capsule Kokichi had given him, instead. Inside was a plastic charm of a paper lantern. Kiibo held it delicately up with his fingers, and…

Just looking at it, he did feel happy. Even painted on, the colors were warm.

"...This is nice. From you, I could have expected something tasteless…" That was rude, actually. But he does not apologize. "Thank you. I mean it this time."

Kokichi's arm fell over Kiibo's shoulder again and he felt the weight of the leader leaning against him. He was hiding a smile, albeit poorly. "Duh, naturally! Keep it close to you, so you're always thinking about me, okay?"

(Wait…)

Kiibo knew he didn't need a charm for that. He laughed a little nonetheless, mesmerized by Kokichi's bashful expression. "If that is what you wanted, it might have been easier to just ask--"

"--no, no!! Not taking that from some dumb old robot! I'm going home!!"

More smug than he had any right to be, Kiibo followed Kokichi out.

…

The city truly never slept. Even as the hour continued to age, bright lights and gigantic screens remained lit up for all that still wandered their streets. Kokichi never grew out of his fascination with them.

He and Kiibo stood at the street corner just outside of the gachapon shop, waiting around for Kokichi's 'weirdo dad' to pick them up. Meeting such a man seemed interesting, but Kiibo was more interested in Kokichi's thoughtful expression.

Before he found the chance to ask first, the Supreme Leader began, "... did you have fun, Kiiboy?"

The question itself meant more than Kiibo's own answer, he thought, but replied quickly anyway. "Yes! I did. I've never been anywhere like it."

Kokichi grinned and crossed his arms up behind his head. Then, he leaned back dramatically to peer at the sky. "Ahh~ I'm glad. You're learning to cut loose, did you know? You can thank me any time."

...Was that true? Kiibo felt pretty happy when he thought about it that way. He stared fondly at Kokichi. "...Is that so? It is true that you are easy to relax around. Even if I do not understand you, I wholeheartedly believe that you…" His hand curled close to his chest--saying what he wished to was almost embarrassing, actually, but he felt that Kokichi needed to know. "You must be fond of me. And that makes me happy. Like this, it is much easier to be myself."

The expression that graced Kokichi's face was faintly surprised, but he seemed ready to explode from joy nonetheless. Silently he dropped his arms just to wrap one around one of Kiibo's

"...You're super full of yourself, it's nasty." The words were hardly genuine. "But… I like you. And I got plenty of stuff to teach you, yeah? If you'll stay with me forever."

The feeling behind those words was lost on the naive robot that simply replied, "Definitely. I will be sure that you someday learn the error of your ways regarding my robotic nature, as well."

And for a second, there was silence…

Then Kokichi snorted loudly.

"Sure, sure, I got it!! Super looking forward to it." And with that, he brought that blue capsule up to the light. Kiibo watched carefully as he simply squeezed one end to pop it open. Then, with a certain childlike fascination, he retrieved the keychain and dangled it in front of his vision.

Stars, and a precious sleeping Scottish Fold.

Kokichi's eyes shined, but…

"...Kiiboy, I hate it."

"What?! You're definitely lying!!"

The Supreme Leader blew the smallest raspberry in history. "...You're right. It's my favorite thing in the entire world… I'm going to keep it forever, so I never forget about this."

(Hold on.)

(That has to be it.)

Satisfied with that new answer, Kiibo nuzzled against Kokichi.

…

"That was the first time I told Kiiboy how I feel! You get it now, right?" Kokichi is frowning. Having thought about it extensively, though, Kiibo feels like he understands why.

He breaks his promise of silence to review his results. "You kept it so that you would not forget." Of course… but since he said it so plainly back then, it almost felt like a joke. "If that is what you meant, then you need only say so. I am glad that it is still important to you."

Being a dense fucker is unfortunately also a talent of Kiibo's. Kokichi groans. "It's all important to me. I told you that a dumb robot wouldn't get it. You're so mean!!"

…

Oh, now I get it.

The recognition flashes on Kiibo's face for but a moment--and in that second, he seems taken aback. "I am not a dumb robot!! If you have--" It feels sad to say it, but, "...If you're so forgetful, then you should simply keep a journal! I am sorry that you have to be afraid of losing your memories."

It riles Kokichi up, though he still seems a little saddened. "What's the difference? I already got it all like this. I don't want you to touch it anymore!"

"From my own research, I have learned that living with so much junk reduces productivity and causes heightened anxiety. It is no wonder you seem to have trouble sleeping. That is why I will not budge. We will find something better for you."

Kokichi only groaned again.

"... Please. I am better because of you. It is not often that you tell me what troubles you, so this time I will do my best to help...so that you may be the same."

Such a pushy robot…

Kokichi always loved the boy that worked so tirelessly to understand him. Even if it's only for the triumph of being right, it's…

… it's nice.

"I get it, Kiiboy… I said I'd trust you, so it's only fair. What's your plan, huh? You wouldn't be so heartless as to make me toss it all out…"

"No. I understand now. We will work to organize this. You need more shelves… but it will take a while. In the meantime… I'd like to hear it from you. More of your stories. I will definitely remember."

The surprise is decidedly pleasant if Kiibo reads it off of Kokichi's features. His chest swells with pride. The Supreme Leader was always awkward in his own right. Given a little proper coaxing, though, he would open up every time.

"Alright, alright… You're always so damn hard headed! But I'm a super gracious sort, so we're a perfect match…"

It's a compliment in this case for sure, so Kiibo lets that one slide. He puts his hand to his chin in thought. "Nonetheless, we will need to reduce this eventually. In your private time, perhaps write your thoughts down instead. But I said that I would stay with you forever, so there's hardly any rush."

The onslaught of support from his completely tenacious boyfriend already had Kokichi reeling, but having those important words brought up again feels like the nail in his heart. His face burns red. Back then, he really did word it in a too-embarrassing way, didn't he? "Shut up! Geez… if it's because my precious Kiiboy is worried about me, I'll get it taken care of. It's all a mess like this, anyway…"

Hearing Kokichi so thoroughly embarrassed, but decidedly very pleased, has Kiibo's chest warming in a way he's not sure how to describe. His smile is borne entirely of it.

"Thank you. Let's get started… there is a lot to do."

"Nope! Not yet."

"Huh?"

Kokichi issues his next demand in a wavering voice.

"...You still owe me that kiss."

Kiibo replies, knowing the answer already, “You said you did not want it!”

“Of course, that was a lie!”

But with the way Kiibo rolls his eyes, laughs bashfully, and then closes the gap between them… Kokichi knew he wouldn't need something like marbles to remember.

[juliehamill]

Wayne Hussey, Gillian, and me.

In my teenage years I went to The Barrowland Ballroom in Glasgow countless times to see The Mission with my pal, Gillian.  The Mission has always been a band that makes a big powerful sound, full of melody, and Wayne Hussey in his dark glasses, black hat on a smoky stage has a clear dominating presence with which the crowd connect to and thrive upon.  The Mission gigs in the 1980s were crazy, bouncy, full of love; and me and Gillian revelled in the chaos.  Too young to drink, we stole a cider from the bar and threw ourselves amongst it, laughing as we got shoved around in our black clothes.  The whole room stunk of patchouli.  It was a blast. 

Before Wayne Hussey came over for his tour last year (Nov 2019) Omnibus had provided me with a copy of his book, Salad Daze to review for the rock n roll book club.  It is full of great stories about his time with The Sisters Of Mercy and such evocative tales of his childhood.  After reading it, I wanted Wayne for a live interview for rock n roll book club, more than I ever wanted anybody. It’s great when I get to interview people that have meant something to me in music.  It’s even better when their book is brilliant.  I wanted Wayne, for his juicy stories, but mostly for Gillian and our past.

The publisher set it up for November and put us in touch on email.  With a date pencilled, I wrote to Wayne and told him of my friendship with Gillian, and how the The Mission was one of the bands we enjoyed together.  I told him of how we would sit in her bedroom playing God’s Own Medicine and get up and dance and shove each other about.  I told him of the day that Gillian peeled back a small piece of the wallpaper and wrote on her bedroom wall, in biro, ‘I still believe in God, but God no longer believes in me’.  We folded the wallpaper back over, so as not to get in trouble.  Thirty-five years later, when the house was being cleared to sell, the little quote was still written there, on the wall under the paper.

Gillian and I were best pals for almost forty years.  As teenagers we were never out each others houses drinking tea and eating chocolate biscuits and talking boyfriends and school.  Once I accidentally broke her kitchen table and my dad came round to fix it.  Their house was always full of young teen drop ins drinking out of a stainless steel pot of tea and hanging out with Gillian’s sisters Fiona and Monica, her dad Jim and her mum in a peeny, Gina.  For a short time there was also a mad dog, Paddie, he enjoyed everybody’s legs. Gillian and I shared a love of music and were very close.  We took trips together to Fort Augustus and slept on Michael and Ronald’s floors.  We never thought twice about taking off somewhere with a backpack.  I copied her French homework and she borrowed my tapes.  When I moved to London she lived around the corner for a while.  We were steeped in history and hilarious memories that carried us through a lifetime.  When she lived in Manchester she’d send me silly funny notes in the post and I’d do the same.  When she moved back to Edinburgh we would phone each other and sing The Mission and Lloyd Cole and The Smiths down the phone.  She was cement for me and I for her.  Although far apart saw each other whenever we could. We phoned each other a lot and just became kids again. 

She was, in fact, best pals with so many people. Her little sisters, Fiona and Monica, and our other pals, Jacqueline, Elaine, Caroline, Babs, Sharron, Lorna, all of her school mum pals, all of her cousins, all of our school friends, the boys from the Academy.  Anybody she touched in life instantly loved her.  Even foreign exchange students and pen pals kept in touch.  Like her mum, she had an abundance of love that beamed out from behind an apron.  She was generous, loving, intelligent, loyal, hilariously funny and strikingly beautiful; and she was always, ALWAYS, making tea.  She had a glow about her; an energy of positivity, youth, mischief and fun.  Everybody had adventures with Gillian, and I was lucky to be one of them.

In Spring 2018 we received a text out of the blue saying that Gillian had been diagnosed with bowel cancer.  When she was diagnosed my first thoughts were of how young she was, only in her forties, and how they would definitely operate.  She had no symptoms.  It was just there.  As time moved on she discovered it was incurable and six months later she was gone.  I got to spend some time with her in her last days in the Western General Hospital.  I took in photos of us to look at and the old things we used to do.  We laughed, even though she was in excruciating pain.  I have never seen somebody in such pain, she couldn’t stay still despite every powerful drug available being dripped into her body. But still she laughed and smiled.  ‘No greeting!’ she said, ‘You’ll get me going.’  I treasure those last few days, but forever feel useless and confused because there was nothing that could be done.  I couldn’t save her.  Nobody could.  It is a powerless, rock hard and impossibly raw feeling to accept.

When Wayne Hussey sent a nice gentle reply to my email I just burst into tears. Because I wanted to phone Gillian. There’s a second when, although you know a person is dead, you get some news that relates to them, and you go to dial their number, and the crash of remembrance is overwhelming.  The realisation that I couldn’t tell Gillian first was devastating.  I wanted to hear her high excited voice. ‘Oh my God!  What you gonnie wear?’ I wanted to smile through the sore tears.  She deserved to be here; she deserved to meet him.  In those minutes a parallel of our past life and my current life without her smashed together, and I felt lost, empty and just heavily sad.  How come I’m here and she’s not?  

But Wayne, well, what a gent.  Gillian - you would have loved him.

I met with him quite a lot in a short space of time.  First for dinner at a Mexican restaurant in Camden with the Omnibus team where I talked rubbish and asked him to sign my records.  I had veggie fajitas and kept offering him a bit.  He laughed, and was kind and charming.  Honestly the nonsense that poured out of my mouth.  I composed myself and then interviewed him at The Dublin Castle for rock n roll book club.   We could have talked all night. Watch the link, he’s sensational.  

The next morning he came into do my radio show Hamill Time on Boogaloo Radio.  We had such a laugh.  Wayne is easy to talk to, funny yet professional and quite mischievous.  Perfect for Gillian.  

I went to his gig in Nambucca that night, which was just brilliant.  I felt Gillian beside me. Wayne Hussey’s connection with his crowd is very genuine.  He gave me a shout out from the stage.  His performance was incredible, authentic and moving.  I’m pleased to say we’ve stayed friends.

Gillian, Thanks for sending me Wayne Hussey. I miss you every day. I’m off to listen to God’s Own Medicine now.

Wayne, thanks for reading my books, thanks for all the music and the kindness.  You’re the best.

Thanks to David at Omnibus.  With love to Fiona, Monica, Jim, Simon and the weans.

In September a fundraising ball was to be held in Gillian’s name to help raise money for Bowel Cancer, but regrettably it had to be postponed.  Every day, 110 people are diagnosed with bowel cancer.  It can be symptomless, and reach late stages without any signs.  Please donate to help fund research. Do something amazing today.  You can donate here.

If you can’t donate (times are hard) but you have some wonderful object that would be amazing to raffle at Gill’s ball in 2021, please get in touch.  Thank you. X

RIP Gillian Farrell 10 June 1971 - 8 September 2018.  

(You and Wayne would definitely have enjoyed a pot of tea and a Caramel Wafer). 

[selfcallednowhere]

March 8, 2018, Portland, OR

They opened with "Ana Ng," followed by "Damn Good Times." During the intro of the latter, when the band was already playing but Flans was talking before the vocal kicked in (which he is quite fond of doing, particularly when the song is one of the first few of the night), he said Portland is "the only town that counts." (I knew he was joking but I was still mildly bothered by this as a Seattleite dealing with the Seattle vs. Portland rivalry).

Afterwards, Flans was referring to the people who were around the edge of the room, which was blocked off by a barrier--he said they were in East Berlin. John: "We hope you'll think about what you did." Then he said that Flans hadn't said the thing about this being "the only town that matters" at any of the other shows they've done on this tour, and Flans said it's because a big percentage of the population of Portland is rock critics. Then he said that thing that keeps making me so sad, about how they have a new album and when they say they're going to play a song from it we should pretend to be enthusiastic about it.

After "I Left My Body" (great as always), "Your Racist Friend" (still meh on this song but I do love the trumpet-party-break section with Curt), and "Hey, Mr. DJ, I Thought You Said We Had a Deal" (causing me to rock way out), John got out his contra-alto clarinet. He said it's "lower than the bass clarinet and at war with the alto clarinet."

They played "All Time What," then Flans asked John what he'd done all day. He said he'd "wandered around and dodged the raindrops--apparently it rains in this town." Flans said he did not go to the record store (there's an Everyday Music very close to the venue that he's been known to frequent when they're in town), which meant he had more money than he otherwise would've.

There was some funny banter after that. Flans said they'd gotten to stay at an actual nice hotel the night before, which was unusual for them. Then John said they were wearing crooked top hats and saying "We're gonna make it some day!" Flans said the hotel looked like "a movie set from the '30s," and they took something off a tray of food that probably cost $40. John said they were going to escape on a luggage cart disguised as luggage, and Flans compared them to Harpo Marx. Then John said that next they'd be running and their feet would make bongo sounds. So silly!

They played "Turn Around," which was SO GOOD, much better than the night before when John hadn't used his accordion due to technical difficulties.

After "Spy" and "The Mesopotamians," Flans explained that they're playing two sets, and the second set was "all hits," but they were hits by other bands. John said they're not even good bands, and Flans said they're "under the thumbs of our management," who are really mean to them.

They played "This Microphone," and then Flans said it's on their new album. He said it just came out on vinyl, and that it's a gatefold sleeve, which you can "clean your Oregon pot on."

Flans introduced "Bills, Bills, Bills" by again explaining how they'd been to the AV Club to cover a song for them. He said they first did "Tubthumping," but they weren't going to be playing that tonight because "if you sing it once you'll be singing it all week." He said he was going to be Kelly, John was going to be Beyonce ("a role he originated on Broadway"), and "the members of the band not with us will be playing the part of Michelle." So then they played it, and as always I was completely enraptured by Flans's full-on diva-ness.

They closed out the first set with "Birdhouse in Your Soul," which is a perfect set closer cos there's so much energy in the room when they play it.

Second set started the usual way, with the "Last Wave" video (which I was really tired of at this point, I never really liked it much in the first place and this was like the millionth time I'd seen it) and then "Older" to kick off Quiet Storm. I've been enjoying it on the contra-alto clarinet so much that it'll be a bit sad to (presumably) go back to it on keyboard when all this is over.

Flans pointed out the balcony was really far back and said it was "a mistake." John said it was the section for nursing mothers, and Flans said they'd combined that with the section for cigar smokers.

Flans introduced "Tippecanoe and Tyler Too" by saying it was "one of the first songs we wrote," and then confessed that they're actually vampires (explains a lot!). John said not to post that on social media, but then said that it actually wouldn't matter because they wouldn't show up.

After they played it, Flans said not enough people were taking pictures with their phones, and he was "distracted by not being distracted."

Next was MY THEME SONG, still intense and special and emotional and wonderful every single time. It makes me sad to realize that this tour may be the only time I'll get to see it, but I'm just grateful to have been able to as many times as I have.

Flans said that the electronic drums have "all the power of EDM and all the musicality of not-EDM." Then he said the last song was from John Henry, and why don't they play more songs from that album? "Because it's not very good." (As someone for whom John Henry holds the elevated status of not only the album containing my all-time favorite song but also is tied for my #1 album overall, you can imagine what my reaction to this comment was.)

They played "How Can I Sing Like a Girl?," and then the rest of the band came back on stage for "Istanbul," including the crazy jam session at the end. Afterwards, John said he needed to catch his breath and he wanted them to talk for a minute before they played the next song, which made him sound like such an old man. Flans asked us how we were enjoying the sprung dance floor, then said maybe they should talk about some prostitution scandal (I'm not sure what he was referring to) or the "useless" tariffs Trump is proposing. John said he's divesting his money from steel and investing it in "Waynecoin. It's a psychedelic cryptocurrency. You feel like you're tripping, and then all your money is gone."

Then they played "Mrs. Bluebeard." At this point I took it as a foregone conclusion that John would screw up the lyrics since he had every other time I'd seen it, and sure enough he did. For the second time at the shows I've been to, he actually acknowledged the fact that he did afterwards. His excuse was that he'd been distracted cos he'd been trying to move the microphone with his lips so he could reach the higher part of his keyboard, but the crew had tightened it too much and it hadn't moved. Flans said that what he likes is when the crew sets up his mic stand so it's too tall for him, cos he's flattered that they think he's "of higher stature" than he really is.

Next came "Particle Man," "Wicked Little Critta," and "New York City." Then Flans said the next song features Dan on acoustic guitar. Dan played a little something, and Flans said it was from Dan's collection of "unreleased b-sides" and was entitled "Ah Fuck It." John said something about it reminding him of the Motel 6 commercials, and Flans went off on a classic hilarious Flans thing with him pretending to be Tom Bodett and saying "we'll leave the bugs out for you." Then he said if you're a rock band who wants to be sued you should just say that Motel 6 has bugs.

They played "Number Three," and then Flans went back to riffing on the Motel 6 thing (in character). He said if you're coming there and you have a dog with bugs/mange you should bring them and let them pee all over the carpet.

They played "When the Lights Come On," Flans introduced the band, and then they closed out the main set with the reliably superfun "Doctor Worm."

The first encore was the same spectacular duo as almost all the other shows on this West Coast trip: "Dead" followed by "Don't Let's Start." The second encore was "Man, It's So Loud in Here" and then "Fingertips."

It was a great set and a great show! A teensy bit disappointing because the setlist was nearly exactly the same as the previous night in Seattle, and the only reason it wasn't exactly the same was that they'd removed a couple of the particularly great songs they'd played, but otherwise no complaints.

After the show, I was hanging around the stage trying to get a setlist. I didn't get one, but I did snag something else really cool: a signed drumhead from Marty! That was a first for me. I think he might've given it to me because I told him I recognized his shirt as being from Out of Print Clothing, one of my absolute favorite shops (the one with the cover of The Metamorphosis that he's been wearing a lot lately), and we chatted about that a bit. Between that and him giving me a setlist a couple of days before, I finally felt like I could accept him as a full real member of the band--I've still been thinking of him as "the new guy" all this time. I feel silly saying that as he's been in the band for going on a decade and a half now, and it has nothing whatsoever to do with Marty's skills as a drummer or kindness as a person, both of which are clearly quite high--I just don't deal with change particularly well.

JL wardrobe report: a black pullover jacket, not too exciting, except for when he pushed up the sleeves for the second half of the show (I always love seeing his arms that way, it's much more exciting than when he's just wearing a t-shirt for reasons I can't really articulate).

[morethanithoughtofficialblog]

Chapter 7: As useless as a broken mirror

In which you realize your life is crap... 

for now

*Your POV*

Talking with someone yesterday was good, I guess. I normally talk about work topics only, so it feels weird to have a casual conversation about... anything. And it was weirder, considering Sans was the one talking.

It would be today, though, the day where we would see each other again in order to discuss... more terms. They all deserve to know and I also need a few papers for them in order to get them into society. I just need the basics, though- report cards, previous jobs on the Underground, and I will put them some tests in order to see which educational level fits better each of them. But that will be later.

So there I was, waking up and trying to french kiss the morning as Bon Jovi does. And failing miserably, just as always.

I tried my best to keep a smile on my face. It didn't work out, either. I groaned loudly, realizing that it was four in the morning. So yeah, I just can't french kiss the morning when it isn't morning, you know. And so I felt stupid and went back to sleep...

...

Except I didn't.

No matter how many positions I tried or how many different pillows I took, I just couldn't get my head together. I was thinking about everything and, at the same time, about nothing at all. I felt numb yet desperate to be a normal person and fall sleep immediately, considering how freaking tired I actually was.

I sat on my bed silently and put on the lights. Bad idea, but I still do it every night like this.

I frowned remarkably and stood there until my eyes got accustomed to the light. And then I started to question what the hell was I doing, as usual.

I looked at my annoying digital clock again: 4:11 am.

Great, guess I'll stay like this until the day officially starts... or until I pass out, that is.

Maybe a good drink would have been great to forget it all. Then I remembered that I had work and that, besides, I don't drink. I groaned again.

I felt like crying, like screaming or like to go outside and let a fucking weirdo kill me or make me disappear forever...

That's the worst idea I've ever had.

I wanted to punch something; maybe a mirror, maybe that elegant flower vase with a dead daisy on it, or the TV. All of those were great options, honestly. But I wasn't up to clean the mess or to deal with angry neighbors, so I didn't move.

I shoot a glance at one of my bureaus, that only had an old book on its top. Maybe I could read. I tried to stretch my hand and get it, but I ended up falling out of the bed, making my head hurt like hell. Ouch. Maybe I couldn't, after all.

I, unsurprisingly, groaned again. If I had a cent for every time I have groaned in my life, I could probably have a car instead of taking that goddamn subway. Or I could get a house. Or a life...

Nah. That's way too expensive.

I eventually got up and stared at my drawer. Then, without thinking, I opened it. My heart sank when it did.

Medicines here, medicines there. Medicines FUCKING EVERYWHERE! There was barely any space left for even a fricking pill. This is not the first time I have seen this, though, but it still hurts to see how pathetic I am. This is just a small proof. There's more, that's for sure.

I stood there silently, anxiety consuming me over. I could even make a fucking drug store out of this drawer...

Actually, that doesn't sound like a bad idea.

I shook my head, resisting the urge to be sarcastic to myself... again.

But, yes, I had such a huge variety I could make a store out of it. Do you have anxiety? Well, Zoloft for you, that is! Are you depressed like me? Well here, took a Prozac pill! Come here and get your problems away...

And contribute to mine.

Oh my god, just end my suffering.

Thanks to my wonderful boss and work partners (including college and the monsters' case, of course), I forgot that I had emotional problems as well. And that means that I haven't been following my treatment. For months.

Shit.

Then I started to wonder when I had to see my psychiatrist again. I probably missed the date he gave me. Just wonderful, right?

I sighed and closed the drawer, feeling worse than before. I went to the bathroom to see my wound but there wasn't anything there. Thank God.

I ended up looking at my face, slightly frowning. People have said that I'm pretty, yes, but I think that's just out of sympathy. Therefore, I haven't been comfortable with my looks since... a long time ago.

My (e/c) eyes looked paler than when I was a kiddo. Ah, childhood. It was wonderful in its own way. No problems, no low self-esteem, no nothing. Just laughs and friends, videogames and nights playing Dungeons and Dragons with my dorky dad and my aunt. Those were good days.

I remember that I received a lot of comments, telling me that I would have a brilliant future. Hard to believe in that now, looking at what was happening.

I work in Congress and I am finishing my studies to finally become a biochemist. Being a scientist has been my dream, and I'm just a few steps before I can call myself "Dr. (Y/N)". And I'm just twenty.

When I was little, my dad took me to a neurologist in order to see my IQ. She said, in a few words, that I was super smart and super talented. I believed it but never used it as an excuse to think of me better than anyone else. Right then, I thought everyone had talents and intelligence. Now... I'm seriously doubting all those encouraging words were true. Because, even if I was a nerd, that never meant my future would be brighter.

A lot of my school partners and friends are being way happier than I am, having a perfect balance between emotions, college, and work. Me, who 'has it all' to become an important person, somehow has three mental breakdowns (at least) in one day, and it's struggling between having or not new friends, afraid of screwing up.

Is this what my parents would have wanted? For me to be a coward?

Well, surprise surprise. Your daughter is such a disappointment of a kid.

I'm a genius. That's what experts told me. They also said that this high IQ thingy may include problems socializing and, well, even mental illnesses. To be honest, I prefer being normal and not having these things than being a Leonardo Da Vinci and die internally every five seconds.

Then I noticed a warm feeling on my cheeks.

Oh crap.

I snapped back to reality and saw myself in front of the mirror, crying as if my life depended on it. Well, it kinda does, but that's not the point.

I tried to wipe them as quickly as possible, trying to banish that feeling instantly. But instead, I cried harder. And harder. And I felt more miserable than before, if that was possible.

My legs felt like jello and my eyes turned all red and puffy. My mouth was shaking, trying to transform itself into a smile. Why was I crying, again? Oh yeah, because I hate myself so much. I look awful, I'm just full of myself, lonely, and easily replaceable. There's nothing I can do about it.

I will finish my dream career, but all for what? To be more stressed? I don't know if I can quit at the Congress since I kind of accepted to be the ambassador of the monsters. Wow. I should have left someone more capable than I am to do the job. Now I'm going to disappoint them as well, whenever they see how weak I am. I mean, I'm crying while I'm looking at myself in the night... again. This is isn't new. But it just feels worst every time.

I gasped for air, almost forgetting how to breathe thanks to all that crying. I blinked a couple of times and took long breaths until I calmed down. When my vision wasn't blurry anymore, I saw my face again. All red and uglier than before. I looked like a baby losing its toy, like a child whining, or like a teenager who has an impossible crush.

I frowned, knowing I wasn't any of them. I was an adult, for God's sake.

Can this get more frustrating?

Can I be more pathetic?

I closed my fist and punched the mirror until my fingers went numb and my blood painted my whole hand...

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*Frisk's POV*

I woke up later than usual, rubbing my eyes at the incoming sunlight. I groaned at the clock, seeing it was 10 am. But deep down I knew that Toriel would come for me, and so I got up.

I took a quick shower and put into more presentable clothes. I colocated a cute ribbon on my brown hair, feeling quite silly yet pretty. I stared at the mirror and saw my look with satisfaction. I was looking great! I even made some silly faces and giggled a little before coming out, interrupted by an angry skeleton who wanted to take a shower.

"kid, just fucking get out of there! what're you doin'? takin' a trip to narnia?"

"Sans, behave yourself!!!"

"...sorry ari-mom..."

I contained my laughter, knowing that Sans would be really angry if he heard me, and I walked out of the bathroom. Just a second passed before a quick flash of white ran into the room and locked the door. Oh, Sans, since when are you this desperate to take a shower?

The ones who hadn't showered groaned impatiently. I would have too since Sans lasts a long time in the shower. One time I swear I heard him singing a popular rock song (so popular I don't remember its name) and then eventually creating a song of how much he loved ketchup...

...I must admit I feel worried about his future...

Eh... let's just hope for the best.

After a bunch of complainings towards him and more people showering, we could finally take breakfast together. Thank God they were pancakes, or else Undyne or Papyrus would be trying to find out the best egg combination (which, according to them, hasn't been found yet). At first, it is fun to hear their crazy ideas, but then it turns into a competition that I get somehow dragged into it. Most of the time voluntarily, though.

However, I was too excited to let all my energy be drowned into an egg fight. Today we will be seeing (Y/N) again, and honestly, I was looking for it! She's nice, and I've been waiting to be friends with her all this time. So now that everything was, well, settled, this was my chance!

We all ate rather quickly and head out of the house. However, Asgore stopped us before we could go running to... anywhere, actually.

"Let's wait here a moment, ok?" he smiled eagerly, making me suspicious.

So we waited there for five minutes or so until a simple-looking taxi made its way towards the house. Then a 5'5 feet tall woman got out of there, who I recognized immediately.

"(Y/N)!!!!!" Papyrus screamed unearthly loud, hugging (Y/N) immediately. She looked a little bit startled by such a sudden move but hugged back shortly after him.

"Hello, Papyrus. It is good to see you again...!" she tried her best to sound enthusiastic, but she felt somehow... different. Why, though?

"Oh, (Y/N) sweetie, I'm so glad you could make it!" Goat mom added with a smile, which (Y/N) returned it kindly. Maybe I was just imagining things, after all "But, hey, come in! We want you to see where we have been living all this time!"

Sans looked a bit tense but quickly relaxed. He must have forgotten for a second that Papyrus was his roommate. Therefore, there was NO WAY his room could be dirty. Since when he cares about that, though?

And so we gave (Y/N) a small tour through the small house. She behaved as always; shy, anxious, not wanting to intrude or sound rude, making small compliments and comments in amusement. She was just super nice! I think she's one of my favorite humans.

After making her laugh a bit and answer some of her own doubts about the Underground, we all headed off to the Congress, talking about the simplest of topics.

"Oh! I remember hearing a song called 'Imagine' one day!" I told (Y/N), keeping up with the musical topic (at Sans's petition).

"You have? Well, I mean... which artist are you talking about?"

"I think it was Marshmello"

"...then no, I haven't heard that one"

"Is there another song called 'Imagine'?" Alphys asked, curious about our conversation.

"well, there's john lennon's, y' know..." Sans added, smiling lazily.

(Y/N) seemed perplexed for a second, then smiled widely.

"Yep, John Lennon's 'Imagine' is my kind of... 'Imagine', you know"

Throughout all the way we all were talking about music. (Y/N) turns out to be a Rock N' Roll and Indie listener, similar to Sans's taste. She is kind of a music nerd, actually. She would give a casual comment of something history-related to music. I think Sans felt like he was on his own mind, opening up strangely. Then I realized he was just another music nerd, and that both of them were never given the chance to talk about this with others so freely.

However, I noticed an unusual expression on Sans's face. Not a good one, I must say. He wasn't suspicious or anything- by any chance, I think he was worried...

but of what?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*Sans's POV*

It feels good to have someone to talk about these things. I mean, someone that at least can say who Slash is.

While I was talking to (Y/N), however, I noticed a wound on her right fist. Not to be rude, but she is a bit taller than I am, and I didn't want to look at a... private part of her body. Therefore, I ended up noticing a serious-looking injury on her fingers.

Should I ask?

I saw how happy she looked, talking about when she started to hear Rock N' Roll and watch concerts on TV.

Eh, I'll do it later...

Still, my mind wandered about that topic the rest of the road. And so, I didn't talk anymore, focusing on other things. Well, can you blame me? That looked like some serious shit happened.

When we arrived at the Congress, I noticed different looks from her work partners. I recognized one of the feelings on their looks: shame. They probably felt ashamed after hearing that we succeed. My smile grew wider, at least a bit, after thinking that.

We discussed a few things in her office like it was any day. Except it wasn't.

The human president made a public announcement on TV, radio, and social media, saying that monsters would be finally released and be accepted as legal citizens. Despite everything, I felt a bit uneasy. He might have been nice, but the others are clearly not like him. I just don't want to put Papy's security on risk.

We ended up leaving sooner than I thought, and for the first time in our lives, we used public transport. We received some glances, but in between, there were also kind smiles. Just like (Y/N)'s, just less dorky...

Did I just call the ambassador a dork?

I mentally groaned and took a seat, never erasing my apparently permanent smile. I felt like I was forgetting something, so I made a quick rewind on my head. But what would I have forgo- oh.

Oh.

You forgot to ask her, you idiot.

[ohitsavibealright]

That's Just How the Petals Fall

For @azusa-calypse

I hope you enjoy!

__________

Newt is watering his plants when he hears it, an aggressive knocking coming from the front of his store. He checks the clock on the wall, eyes squinting in confusion when he sees he has an entire hour before opening. He quickly puts down his watering canteen, before he hesitantly makes his way out to the front. The sight he is greeted with is one he never expected to see in his 25 years of living.

There stands a man in a rather expensive looking business suit, banging frantically at his shop entrance. Newt’s first thought is how striking the man looks, broad shoulders filling out the suit nicely, his slacks showing delicious definition to his thighs. He notices his dark brown hair next, which seems to be messily tousled to perfection, the combination of his hair and business attire balancing one another out quite splendidly.

He approaches his door cautiously, eyeing the man warily, “We don’t open for another hour, sir, -”

“Look, I have 40 dollars and I just really need your help picking out flowers.” The stranger cuts him off and despite his voice being ever so slightly muffled by the door, it still sounds almost as if honey were dripping from each syllable.

Newt would never admit it out loud, but this man’s face and voice alone almost have him reaching for the door handle, a pretty face and forty dollars, what can he say?

He’s a weak man.

But, luckily, the more logical side of his brain promptly takes control again, pushing his more primal and hormonal side down, back to where it belongs. Though, he is genuinely curious as to what could possibly be so important to this man that he comes so early and so urgently at that. “What’s the occasion?” He inquires, arms crossing over his chest and eyebrows lifting almost impatiently.

The man looks him dead in the eye, and Newt sees the desperation, clear as day, in his beautifully light brown eyes, “I need help picking out bouquets that passively aggressively say fuck you.”

The request alone has him forcefully stomping down a smile that’s threatening to break through his own treacherous lips. He figures it wouldn’t help the already ridiculous situation he has somehow found himself in.

With a sigh he decides to take pity on this man, deciding his prominent cupid’s bow looks silly on his crestfallen lips. In his defense he’s simply just trying to nullify the problem, that’s all.

Perhaps it’s a stupid move on his behalf, but before he can even regret his decision (or is able to even move out of the opening doors path) the guy is pushing in, ranting and raging on about something about a stupid coworker and an even stupider boss and some kind of wrong doing over a promotion.

Right then and there he realizes that this man, or sulking boy at this point, is no threat to him or his beloved flowers.

“So, you’re a florist, I assume you know flower meanings right?” The man asks, fingers running through his messy hair, and Newt is momentarily distracted by the prominent stretch of material around his bicep. He swallows, trying to regain some of his composure.

He raises one of his brows, head cocking just the slightest to the side, “That’s quite the assumption to make simply because I work in a flower shop.” The way the man’s face drops has Newt’s heart following suit. It seems almost as if all of his remaining hope seemingly drains from his body, his shoulders slouching inward on themselves.

“I’m just kidding,” he tries to soothe, heart flipping and stomach churning, “I’m a florist, of course I know what flowers mean.” He feels relief wash over him as the man’s energy seems to be renewed with his response.

“Great, but wow, you really scared me there,” he says through a smile, one that Newt finds absolutely breathtaking. It has his own lips twitching upward on there own accord, the corners of his mouth curling up.

“So, give me an idea of what I’m working with,” Newt claps his hands, turning his back on the handsome stranger as he moves behind his counter. “Describe these, apparently despicable people to me.” He holds in a chuckle, the humor of the situation once more threatening to dissolve him into a fit of laughter.

The man sighs, leaning against the counter, “I didn’t get the promotion that I was aiming for.”

Newt raises his brow, the side of his mouth quilting up, “You’re all potty because you didn’t get a promotion? Really?”

“No!” Comes the sputtered response , eyes widening as his hands shoot up, waving around dramatically, “That’s not it at all! I actually really like my boss, but he can be a bit clueless some times.” Newt settles his weight on his left foot, his hip pressing against the counter in front of him, settling in and getting comfortable. “But I do despise my co-worker, he’s a real narcissistic dickhead,” he shakes his head, disapproval evident in his increasing brows, “I do all the work and he gets the credit, but of course if it wasn’t for him and his just oh so overwhelming book smarts we would all be lost.”

Newt waits patiently as the man goes on a passionate tangent, cheeks tinting pink at the ferocity that coats each word dripping off his tongue. Once the man simmers down he reaches out, hand resting over the man’s wrist, “Okay, I get it. I know just the flowers for you.” He says and is absolutely delighted at which the way the stranger lights up. He gives a small hum as he turns to go to his back room, but stops mid turn, “By the way, what’s your name? I don’t think we’ve formally introduced ourselves,” he lifts his hand, giving a half enthusiastic wave, “I’m Newt.”

He sees the man smile, hand going up to cradle his own face, “I’m Thomas, a pleasure to meet you.” Newt nods, turning around completely now and walking off, heart fluttering in his chest.

It’s fitting, a pretty name for a devilishly handsome man.

He quickly gathers a small bouquet of geraniums, fingers picking them up carefully as he arranges them just so, until they’re pretty and perfect. Next, he moves on to the co-worker’s bouquet, fingers dancing along his flowers as he picks up small batches of meadowsweets, yellow hyacinths, and narcissus. Their placements in the bouquet are whimsical and playful as he scatters them about, leaving no pattern to be found.

Once he is pleased with his creations he gathers them in his arms and turns to exit, but he stops mid step, eyes catching on a particular batch of flowers. A playful smile grazes delicately over his lips as he quickly makes a grab for a single ranunculus on his way out.

“Okay, now, dont get these confused with one another, this one,” he quickly passes over the singular group of flowers to Thomas, “are for your boss.” Next he hands over the mixed flowers to him, fingers brushing along Thomas’s, “These lovely little doves are for your co-worker,” he throws in a wink, feeling a small blush raise to his own cheeks, “These suckers really are the perfect way to tell someone off.”

Thomas grins, a little self satisfied looking grin as he nods, “Thank you, Newt, I really appreciate your help.” He goes to carefully take the 40 dollars from his back pocket, desperately trying not to ruin the flowers. Newt chuckles, eyes lighting up delightedly as he watches the man struggle.

“Don’t worry about it,” and before the man can protest he quickly leans over his counter, arm extended. In his hand is a single rambunctious.

Thomas face scrunches up in confusion, head tilting to the side, “Who’s that for?”

Newt laughs, a little breathy laugh, “You, and don’t worry I’ll tell you what it means over dinner.”

Thomas blushes, cheeks skipping pink and going straight for red, as he grabs the flower from his hand. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Good, well then, keep the money you can just pay me in food.”

__________

Flower meanings

Geranium: Folly or stupidity

Meadowsweet: Uselessness

Yellow Hyacinth: Jealousy

Narcissus: Narcissism and egotism

Ranunculus: You are charming or You are attractive

[bellatrixobsessed1]

I’ll Meet You At The Bottom (Part 18)

So the next few chapters are still going to be more Azula focused. When I get her in a more stable position, the focus will likely shift to Sokka and her helping him out.

He didn’t press the issue any, but Azula was left with a potent sting of disappointment in herself as she returned the Ruby Tears to their hiding place. Still she hesitated, willing herself to burn it in her palm. But she couldn’t bring herself to light the flame. Where was her poor impulse control when she needed it? Apparently, it only arose when a beating was on the other end of it.

 For the longest time Azula was quiet, content to just have a body next to hers. A clean shaven, toned, nice smelling body. It was even nicer to have distance, someone who didn’t have to go skin to skin with her to be a comfort. No, Sokka lie at least a pillow length away.

For the time being that felt nice. Like he wasn’t expecting anything from her in exchange for his company.

A friend. She just wanted a friend.

 Such was how two days went by. He would stay with and not say anything, waiting for her to speak. But she didn’t, Azula found that she hadn’t much to say. Mostly, he would listen to her whimper softly to herself as the various aches reached their peaks and fell away only to come back the next day. She could see it in his eyes that he didn’t know what to do about it. Her body wracked with tremors and she couldn’t seem to focus on any one thing for more than five minutes or so, if even.

 The nights were worse, the corners were filled with dark things, looming presences that faded out of view when she tried to assess them. They left her with a sense of foreboding. They wanted her dead and if she fell asleep they might just take her. So she stayed awake, waiting.

Suffering.

 The desire to pull the covers over her head for a false protection was growing stronger but she was hot. Too hot, even for her. She could see it clearer now, a bulky mass of darkness that swelled in the very corner of her room. Sokka slept on the floor, blissfully unaware of the hulking figure that was waiting to claim her.  It stalked closer, each footfall bringing a horrific pounding behind her eyes. She knew that this thing was the source of her suffering.

She was going to kill it…

She was going to…

 The third morning hit her hard. She didn’t even make it across the room before she doubled over and threw up what little she had eaten. Her sides pulsed and her lungs burned, still her stomach emptied itself more. She had to put an end to it, she was glad she kept the Ruby Tears. All she had to do was go retrieve them.

“Good morning, Azula.” Sokka greeted so cheerfully that she may have thrown up again.

 “Is it?” She snapped. “Is it really?”

 Sokka has become pretty good at ignoring her outbursts. Instead of taking the bait he fetched her a towel and helped her clean herself. At that, her temper cooled again. She rubbed her puffy eyes, they have become swollen and red and she doesn’t know if it’s another symptom of withdrawal or if its for lack of sleep, but she hates it as much as all of her other ails. She pulled herself to her feet despite the vertigo threatening to pull her back down again and moved to her vanity set. She still didn’t like looking in the mirror but she picked up her comb and began brushing. Her hair had gotten longer since she’d fled the palace, reaching her shoulders. She thought that it should have been a little longer than that by now, she supposed she shouldn’t complain, at least it was growing. She thought of applying some lipstick but didn’t seek to agitate her chapped lips any further. Setting her comb down, she retreated to an armchair in the corner of her room. “Sit.” She pointed to the spot next to her. The chair had always been much too big for her, it practically required a second person—or even a third—to fill it. Sokka would do just well. She leaned back and stared at the ceiling. It was useless to try to get comfortable but she put some effort into it anyhow. She opened one eye, “did you hear me?” She paused. “I said get over here.”

 “I heard you.” He replied.

 “Then why are you still over there?” She asked, tapping chipped, yellowing fingernails on the arm rest. One of these days, when she found the energy, she would have to drop by the palace spa. A manicure was long overdue and a facial even more so. Her brief glimpse in the mirror revealed dry skin, lacking in its usual elasticity. She ran her fingers through her hair at the unwelcomed reminder of her decay. “On your way can you bring me my kiseru?” A little smoke couldn’t hurt, in fact she was will to say it would ease the pain as it usually did.

 “If you want to cave in, I’m not going to help you.” The Water Tribesman had an annoying way of holding his ground.

 Azula pinched the bridge of her nose. “Well if you won’t do that,” she hissed, “then maybe you could hurry up, I didn’t realize waterbenders were so slow.” She impatiently patted the spot next to her again. “Really, when I invited you to stay with me I thought that you would be helpful.” She realized that she was working herself into a rage and one that was wholly unnecessary. She caught the flicker of annoyance in his eyes and flinched inwardly, she was going to push him out again. She ought to at least add a ‘please’ to her demand, but she still felt herself above such.

.oOo.

 She is far more demanding than Yue and even Suki and in some sense, very high maintenance. But in other ways he knew he wouldn’t have to worry about her in the same way he had to worry about Suki and Yue.

 He sat down next to her. The chair offered only a little space between them, every time she shifted, her shoulder would brush his. The close proximity offered him a whiff of pine and a touch of cinnamon, a much better combination than the overpowering odor of tobacco and cactus juice. He’d never known a firebender to use pine fragrances, but it was a potent scent, probably one she was using to mask less pleasing ones. The cinnamon lingered from her bath the other day.

He was happy for it though, it was much more pleasant. He thought of vocalizing his opinion but, kind or not, he couldn’t gauge how kindly she’d take to an unsolicited opinion. Instead he asked, “should I call for breakfast.”

 “I’m not hungry.” She replied.

 “You’re never hungry.” He grumbled. Just like he’d never known a firebender to use earthy scents, he’d never known a person to deny perfectly good food.

 “You can get something for yourself though.” She muttered, reminding him that he didn’t actually need her permission to do so. He’d order for two under the guise that he’d be eating it himself, with any luck he’d convince her to finish what he didn’t. Truth be told he was growing concerned at how small she was getting. Maybe he shouldn’t have but he added, “Ruby Tears aren’t food.”

He earned himself a rough shove off of the armchair. She might have called him an asshole, but he couldn’t hear it over the sound of his rear thumping on the floor.

 She ignored him for sometime afterward, leaving him to brood over it. He wished that she would stop being so difficult, all the same he knew that she wouldn’t be Azula if she wasn’t. Even so he can’t help but wonder if he would be getting anything out of a relationship, of any kind, with her. “Come on Azula, I was joking.” He cringed at his own words, again a joke was getting him in trouble. It wasn’t quite a joke though, the delivery yes. The meaning, no.  She pretended to inspect her nails and, if he could guess, pretended to like what she saw. He sighed and twiddled his thumbs, wishing that he’d brought his paint set with him, he could have painted something silly. Instead he was forced to endure an oppressive silence until the food arrived.

Apparently, the princess was just as discontent with the quiet, but she wouldn’t be the one to break it. Her apology came in the form of accepting the reminisce of his food when he offered it to her. He didn’t know why, but he thanked her for doing so. She shrugged, he could sense that there was something on her mind. “What’s bothering you?” Whatever it was, she has been thinking about it for a while.

 “Aside from…” she gestured to her entire body. She didn’t indicate whether she was referring to her physical appearance, the various aches, or both and she left him to space to ask. “You didn’t tell them did you?” She questioned. “About this,” she motioned to what remained of the empty bottles.

 “You asked me not to.” He replied.

 “And did you listen?”

 “I shouldn’t have.” Sokka dared. “I think that they should…”

 She waved the rest of his response off. “They don’t need to.” She put her plate aside and buried her head in her hands as if that could stop the pulsing.

 “Maybe Katara can help you with the headaches.” He suggested.

 “And what reason do you think I should give her to be having them so often?” She asked, everything in her tone suggested she believed there were no good excuses. He was certain that if she wanted to she could come up with one, even if it were a poor one she’d be able to make it sound quality. But she had no desire to do so. “I don’t need anyone else’s help anyways.”

 She wouldn’t back down on this one. It would be nice though, to have someone else who knew. Sokka wondered if he should tell Aang regardless of her request. But he had her trust—or something close to it—he couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to get it back if he lost it. He was on his own to some degree. After all of this time he still didn’t know how to help her, he didn’t know what he would do if simply being there stopped cutting it.

 “Tell me why you aren’t happy.” Azula requested, apparently done discussing herself. He should have known she’d try to switch the subject sooner or later. “Am I that awful to be around?” And sarcastically she added, “I’m hurt Sokka.”

 “What would make you say I’m not happy?”

 “Your personality.” Azula shrugged. She pulled herself up and snatched his boomerang, “living hurts sometimes.” She gave an exaggerated imitation of how he normally waved his boomerang when he spoke. “Weren’t you the group clown?”

 “That was a long time ago.” Sokka trailed off.

 Azula scoffed. “You sound like Zu-Zu. Stop it.”

 “Sorry,” Sokka apologized. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately. I was worried about you, you know.” His attempt to swing the focus away from him again was a success.

 She furrowed her brows, “why?” She shifted in the chair, crossing one leg over the other. “I can take care of myself.”

 “So can Katara. So can Toph. I still worry about them, because I care about them and I don’t want to lose them.”

 “You...” she started, “care about me?”

 He nodded, hoping that she wouldn’t ask any further. He knew he didn’t have all of the answers she’d be seeking. But it was only natural that she would continue her interrogation. If it wasn’t trying to roast someone to a charred husk she was burning someone with harsh words. In some sense or another, she was relentless; this time it was in the form of endless inquires.

 “Why?” Her voice was as apathetic as it was two questions ago. “What have I done to earn that?”

 This was the question he had no answer for, aside from, ‘I just do.’  He wracked his brain, “I think that you haven’t had enough care.”

 “You’ve said that before. Who cares?”

 “I do!” He threw his hands up.

 “Now we’re just going in circles. Why? Why do you care? Why do you want to care?”

 He was nearly frustrated enough to bring up what painting her has done for him. But he still wasn’t ready for her to know about that, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be. Carefully he said, “you gave me something to do, you helped me take my mind off of things so I decided that I owed you the same.”

 Always one to make things difficult she argued again, “I would have been none the wiser.” This woman, he realized wanted to get to the core of his feelings. He wished her luck, because he hasn’t even gotten there. “Why did you feel obliged to fulfill a debt I didn’t know of.”  He considered for the first time that this endless stream of questions might be distracting her from her torment.

 “I just…I don’t know Azula. I have honor or compassion?” He scratched his head, growing nervous under her gaze. “Maybe. Maybe I see something in you that others don’t.”

 “You aren’t very specific, are you?”

 “I don’t think that you’re a bad person.” He elaborated. “I think that you can help us do amazing things. You kind of remind me of Suki, but with more fire.”

 “In other words, you don’t care about me. You care about what you think I could be.”

 “I care about both.” Sokka grumbled. “Why are you making it so hard to say nice things about you?”

 .oOo.

 Azula knew she was pushing it. He was growing increasingly agitated but she had to make sure. She had to know that he wasn’t just another Mai. She ignored his question and posed another of her own, “what do you like about me now then? What’s worth caring about?”

 Sokka groaned. “I don’t know…just you in general I guess. I’ve never met someone like you before.”

 “You are lucky.” She quirked a brow.

 He chuckled. “Maybe.” He paused, considering his next words. “Or maybe not. I like your wit and your dark humor is fun in moderation.” He faltered again, this time deciding if he wanted to add something else, he was doing that too much. She didn’t like these secrets. “You’re nice when you want to be.” She wished he would have kept that one to himself.

 “If you say so.”

 “I think that you care about me.” He added.

 “I didn’t ask.”

 “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have asked why I wasn’t happy.”

 “I might have just been curious…”

 “I think that you want to help me out too.”

 “Only because helping you will benefit me.” She tried.

 “Because you’re actually really a sweet person.” He countered

 “Okay, you can stop now, Sokka.”

 He broke out laughing, regardless there was truth in his words—he didn’t see her like everyone else did. He’d seen her cry…multiple times. He’d seen her dirty and battered. He’d seen her stumbling without a hint of grace nor power. He’d seen her at her rawest, at her most exposed. For better or for worse he didn’t think that she was a monster. He didn’t think that she was helplessly insane nor broken.

 “You make for great conversation.” He added.

 It was the last truly coherent discussion he’d have with her.