#leaving behind a trail detailing the life of this magician

[bluberimufim]

My brain keeps telling me to rewrite "Black and White" as one of those novels that are more like a collection of documents (whatever tf it's called) and I'm like!! Bestie, writing a novel as a series of documents is exactly what made me write the second draft as third person in the first place!!!!

(ok technically it was just Darius's normal POV + Diedrich's diary for some reason, but still!!)

[https-furina]

✎ when you love someone. ft. lyney x fem!reader content: heavy angst, death/murder, fontaine archon quest spoilers, detail to injury, ooc lyney while i’m practising. not proofread. w.c. tba.

there's a melancholic harmony that comes with dating that infamous, ash blond magician who's name is uttered from every fontainian's mouth across the country. 'he's miraculous!' they exclaim, eyes glittering like stars as they leave the opera epiclese, grins wide on their faces. he truly is, you think to yourself as you follow the crowds out on some evenings after witnessing your boyfriend's abilities for the nth time. yet you also know better than this. the lies intertwined between soft kisses shared in the moonlight and the forced smiles he'll throw in anyone's direction.

lyney knows better too when he fumbles for his house key, a gloved hand fishing into his pockets to pull out the cold metal. a prospect he never thought he'd grasp when he devoted himself to the orphanage beside his sister, starved and defensive. there's almost a pained smile on his face when he calls out to you that he's home. at this hour of the night, the court of fontaine is a quiet city, especially in this quarter. the night life clings to the hotels that bustle with activity, drinks and other numerous acts that people indulge themselves in to drown their pains out - but he knows that the house he'd made a home with you was never this quiet.

it's a strange thought to him that you'd ever go to bed without waiting up for him first - that was your favourite routine, curled up on the couch with a plate of fresh conch madeleines you'd baked earlier in the day. a crocheted blanket would be draped over your bare legs, one of lyney's own white dress shirts hanging flimsily from your frame with the buttons done up. he would grin at the imagery if only it wasn't for the slow, tense anxiety creeping up his spine, leaving a trail of hairs standing on edge at the silence you'd left him with.

"ma chérie?" he calls out again, that sweet nickname rolls from his tongue like it has a thousand times before since you started dating. it's familiar, it tastes warm and like your homemade cooking you'll bring to him before his shows - a comfort he'll cherish no matter how much his acts crumble him.

you knew months into speaking with lyney that he worked for the fatui behind that whimsical act of a magician. you remember that tight feeling that choked your lungs for breath, you remember the vivid way the corners of your vision darkened and his words echoed in your head. he looked so pitiful, his brows knit together and a beautiful glitter to his lilac eyes when he's on the brink of tears from your lack of response.

growing up, you recall the stories your parents and elders had spat in distaste regarding the fatui - snezhnayan scum, good-for-nothings, troublemakers that cause nought but harm wherever they go. you truly believed that lyney was none of these, how could he be? he'd swooned you so lovingly after one of his shows on a starry night, having caught your eyes in his audience. he claims it was love at first sight, the cheesy phrase making you giggle whenever he'd reference it. he'd whispered sweet nothings in your ear the first night you'd shared a bed together, fingers dusting down your body in feather light touches like he considered you porcelain.

surely these were things that proved his innocence? that proved the truth in his words when he first mumbled 'i love you' against your soft lips midway through a kiss? you gave him his chance and lyney was determined to not let his affairs as a fatui member ruin what he had with you. things were perfect for the upcoming year, even if that smile he flashed to anyone who looked in his direction was so fake that you could almost grimace.

it is not lyney that anyone should have doubted the faithfulness of - the safety that his arms brought you. it is the fatui, the harbingers, the organisation that tears lives apart for their personal gains. it's the promises to protect their members' families and loved ones that fall on deaf ears yet feed their members' minds with relief and keeps that every faltering loyalty in check. they have them wrapped around gloved fingers that are ready to snap at any moment.

lyney kicks off his boots by the front door, twirling his hat as he hangs it next to your coat. in his younger years, he'd debated what the meaning of love was. he'd thought over the concept of a home - of four walls that were safe and permanent. every time something took a wrong turn in his life, he considered if he was capable of being loved, perhaps if he was even capable of loving too. if there was one thing he was certain from his time with you, it was that you'd proved him wrong.

his legs carry him tiredly up the staircase, his footsteps light as he steps over a particular floorboard he has memorised that creaks - just in case you'd truly gone to sleep without him tonight. the silence is deafening, he can't even hear the faint sounds of your breathing from your shared bedroom where the door is cracked open and the moonlight floods out like a liquid river. he glimpses red through the crack and his brow furrows in concern, picking up the pace of his steps.

the world you'd built with lyney crashes down the moment his hand - free of its glove - pushes the bedroom door further open and his eyes fall onto your body. you're limp on the floor, laid on the soft, fur rug you'd begged lyney to buy when you were furnishing your first home together. he still vividly remembers the beam you gave him when he caved and agreed. there's a pool of blood around you, drenching that cream fur and seeping into the floorboards beneath you. it's oxidising, darkening - how long had you been here like this?

lyney falls to his knees beside you, your blood soaking through his stockings and wetting his skin but he shrugs the uncomfortable feeling away when his hands push you onto your back, your head rolling to the side limply. your eyes are white, rolled back but there's a look of fear written across your face and lyney's eyes begin to sting with the idea that you'd been scared in your final moments; no, he refuses to accept that you're dead. you're simply injured, passed out - he'll get you to a doctor and he'll never let you out of his sight again.

but the waterfall of red that decorates your neck and stains his white shirt he knew you'd be wearing tell him otherwise. his hands clasp at your cheeks, cupping the cold skin as his thumbs desperately rub at you in hopes that you'll come to, smiling and reassuring him. he blinks the tears in his eyes away but all they do is fall down his pale cheeks in precious streams of emotion when he doesn't wake up. he doesn't open his eyes again to see sunlight streaming through the light fabric of your bedroom curtains. he doesn't hear his favourite laugh in the whole of teyvat when you notice he's woke up. the silent atmosphere is still very much present, tense and ready to be sliced with a knife.

the only sounds are lyney's jagged breaths, desperate as he starts to hyperventilate to get air into his lungs. he presses his ear to your chest, not caring if his blond locks fall into your blood as he frantically searches for your pulse, a sign of life. there is not even a shallow breath that falls from your chapped lips.

you had taught lyney many things in the time you'd devoted at his side, things that the fatui could never teach him. you taught him how it feels when you love someone but as he releases a pained cry into the night, you'd also taught him the anguish that comes from the decision of trusting the fatui the way he had before.

© https-heizou 2023.

[perprintgurgaon]

Visiting Card Wizards: Innovative Printing Solutions in Delhi

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Beyond Ordinary: Stand Out with Gold & Metal Plated Visiting Cards

Which type of visiting card is best?

Boosting Business Relationships: Unveiling the Art of Corporate Gifting

Writing Your Story: Personalized Diaries for Self-Discovery

Gifting Excellence: Unveiling the Best Corporate Gifts in Gurgaon

[verymuchimmortalcat]

The Chronicles of Marinette Wayne

For Bio dad Bruce Month Day 22: Library/Books

ao3

@maribat-bdbwm ​

Marinette had first come to live with him when she had been five and had just lost her mother. The only reason she was coming to stay with them had been Dick, who was much more excited at the prospect of a younger sister than Bruce was about another child and a grieving one at that.

When Bruce had first been contacted about having a biological daughter who had just lost her mother, he had thought it would be better to send her to someone like the Kents. Someone who would provide her with a stable family where she could lead a happy life. But then Dick had found out when Bruce had gone to Alfred for advice and had convinced him to bring her to the manor. Had convinced him that letting her go now might affect her in the future, and he wasn’t wrong (not that Bruce had considered how it might affect her since it would definitely look like he hadn’t wanted her, he just wasn’t sure if he was the best candidate) but the life they lead wasn’t one he wanted to drag a five-year-old into. When he had voiced that thought Dick had retorted with, “well, you’re not planning to put her in a cape and let her fight the rogues, are you?”

Of course not, he had no intention of doing that. She was five for heaven’s sake, and so the matter had been decided. She would live with them.

 .oOo.

 Marinette had warmed up to both Dick and Alfred almost instantaneously. Bruce spent what time he was at home hovering around her uncertainly. She spoke to him occasionally but not a lot. He had learnt (from her, he’d done an extensive background check and looked into all the details of her upbringing prior to this) that she liked pink, her favourite food was chocolate chip cookies and that she had a favourite soft toy that she always slept with. But even though she spoke to him she was never as open with him as she was with Dick or Alfred. It took her a week before she came to him willingly instead of him talking to her.

It had been shortly after he had returned from patrol. The door to his room had opened and tear-filled blue eyes stared at him, he could see her clinging on to her soft toy. He got up and walked towards her, she was still lingering in the doorway. Kneeling to reach her height he asks softly, “nightmare?”

She nods, tears still streaming down her face.

He looks at her unsure of what to do.

“Would you like to go back to sleep?” he asks quietly.

She shakes her head vehemently.

He still is unsure of what to do. Acting on a random whim he stands and picks her up. She clings to him and he definitely doesn’t marvel over how she fits perfectly in his arms.

He takes her to the library and picks out The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, sitting on his favourite armchair he seats her on his lap and starts to read to her, “Once there were four children whose names were Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy…”

 .oOo.

 Alfred finds the two of them passed out in the armchair the next morning. The crick in his neck and the lecture he gets from Alfred about how an armchair is not the proper place for either of them to sleep are worth it when Marinette comes to him that night with the book in hand asking about, “Mr. Tumus”

“Mr. Tumnus,” he corrects her gently.

She nods in agreement and repeats, “Mr. Tumus.”

 .oOo.

 Him reading to her becomes an event. She drags Dick into it too, whenever he isn’t with his Teen Titans in New York that is. Alfred provides them with milk and cookies and he reads to Marinette and Dick every night before patrol. They stop once she falls asleep and either him or Dick take her up to bed before patrol.

About a year after they start this routine, he returns from patrol to find a crying Marinette in his room. She just cries harder once she sees him. He holds her until she falls asleep resolving to talk to her in the morning.

He takes her to the cave the next morning, after breakfast, with Dick and tells her about Batman and Robin. When they head back to the manor she heads to her room and doesn’t come out before sundown (Alfred took her lunch to her room and had somehow talked her into eating). He spends the whole day worrying about if telling her was the wrong thing to do. She had lost her mother mere months before, she shouldn’t have to worry about her other parent too. She comes down for dinner and after dinner she still drags them to the library. She doesn’t fall asleep like she usually does, instead when he completes a chapter Marinette asks the two of them to wait, runs out and returns, panting, a few minutes later with something colourful in her hand. She then hands it to both him and Dick it’s a thread with beads on it. She hands Dick two of these, one has red, green and yellow beads and the other is purple, black and yellow, and his has blue, purple and black.

She grins up at the two of them and says cheerfully, “lucky charms. Dick’s is like Robin and yours is Batman.”

“And the other one?” Dick asks

“Batgirl,” she exclaims cheerfully.

Bruce as always is amazed at her never-ending optimism, kindness and hopefulness. Dick offers her a sunshine smile of his own, hugs her and says, “Thank you Sunshine.”

Once she lets go of Dick she looks at him with her big blue eyes, and Bruce ruffles her hair and gives her a smile and tells her he’ll carry it with him at all times. She smiles wider (something Bruce wasn’t aware was possible) and says goodnight before skipping back to her room.

 .oOo.

 Barbara convinces Dick to bring Marinette to the library after he gives her the lucky charm. The two of them leave the manor dressed in casual clothes and treat it almost like a mission to go and come back without causing any news scandals.

When they return Marinette’s carrying the entire Chronicles of Narnia series and pestering Dick about visiting Barbara again.

He points out that they already have the Chronicles of Narnia in the manor library, Marinette opens the book to a random page shows it to him and says, “but look this one has pretty pictures.”

He reads from the newly acquired illustrated copies that night.

 .oOo.

 As Dick starts to pull away more and Bruce tries to get him back, the tension in the house is high on good days. They don’t spend as often reading in the library anymore. He still reads to Marinette after nightmares, but Marinette no longer pulls them all to read while they have cookies and milk.

And then Dick leaves. He still visits Marinette, takes her out or Barbara will drop by and take her to the library. But he doesn’t spend any time in the manor other than to speak to Alfred. But there’s no longer a Batman and Robin. Gotham has Batman and Blüdhaven, Nightwing.

Marinette no longer comes to him with her copy of The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe after nightmares,

 .oOo.

 When he first brings Jason home, Marinette had decided to spend the day with Dick in Blüdhaven. When Alfred brings her back the next morning, she’s shocked but she decides she’s going to be his friend. She takes him on a tour of the manor. Bruce trails behind the two, unsure of what to do, before he’s called away by an emergency at WE.

When he returns the two of them aren’t in either of their rooms, the several sitting rooms or the media room.

Alfred is the one who finds him during his search for the two and says, “I would check the library Master Bruce. It seems the young Master Jason has a love of literature.”

Sure enough, that’s where he finds the two. On the armchair that he had used that very first night, the both of them being tiny enough to fit in one seat, curled up and reading. Not wanting to disturb the two he steps back quietly. The two of them come as soon as Alfred calls them for dinner, and Jason’s certainly more animated than he had been the day before.

 .oOo.

 Marinette talks Dick into visiting, Bruce is simply glad to see his son back temporarily even if Dick refuses to talk to Bruce. He forms a tentative friendship with Jason. Bruce finds the three of them in the library before he leaves for patrol, Marinette’s reading The Magician’s Nephew out loud while the two of them sit next to her with milk and cookies in hand. His heart warms at the sight, he wishes he could take a picture but he doesn’t want to disturb them. Footage from the security cameras will have to do.

 .oOo.

 When Barbara’s shot, Marinette’s there everyday that Barbara’s fine with visitors. The rest of them accompany her as often as they can. Even as things slowly return to some what normal, Marinette spends nearly half her time with Barbara.

And then Jason dies. Marinette spends more time outside than at the Manor, or so Alfred says. And Bruce, well he isn’t really sure anymore.

He sends Marinette to Paris for her own safety. He’d met and befriended a nice couple during his travels and they had agreed to let his daughter stay with them for a while.

Marinette doesn’t care about his reasons, when she leaves for Paris she takes all her things but leaves the illustrated set of the Chronicles of Narnia that he had bought for her as a birthday gift after she and Dick had first visited Barbara.

 .oOo.

 Shortly after Robin hits the streets once again, Tim comes over to the Batcave in a panic one night. Rambling about an unsigned package that was just books and a slip of paper with a number on it. He had wanted to check it for any possible signs of danger. Bruce had agreed, it was definitely a strange thing and with the lives they lead no one could really tell for sure.

And then Bruce sees the books and tells Tim there’s nothing to worry about. It’s a new set of the Chronicles of Narnia. There’s a charm hanging from one of the books. She’s gotten better at making them since she was five.

He sighs and says, “The number’s safe. Call her, she’ll probably explain better than I can.”

He doesn’t join Tim, Marinette hasn’t spoken to him since she was sent to Paris and he doesn’t know what to say to her now.

 .oOo.

 There’s a supervillain in Paris, someone new, something about rock monsters. He takes Clark and Diana to check it out. He sent Marinette there so she could be safe, not so that she ends up in another city infested with villains.

When he gets there, there are two children. The girl feels really familiar, the way she speaks when she talks to the flying butterfly head is really familiar but before Bruce can worry too much about it the fight is done and the two kids are swarmed by the press. Before they can move from where they are, the girl- Ladybug says something to her partner and swings out. The next thing he knows she’s standing in front of him and the anger is visible on her face, “Get out. Get out of Paris right now.”

“We’re here to hel-” Clark starts to say when she cuts him off.

“Not you, I want Batman out of this city right now,” she repeats glaring at him. He knows those eyes. They’re the eyes he looks at every day in the mirror. The eyes he shares with his daughter.

“Marine-”

She doesn’t let him continue, “Uncle Clark and Aunt Diana can stay for a while if they can keep their emotions in check but they’ll have to leave too. I want you to leave now.”

He can see Clark and Diana reeling and slowly figuring out what’s happening. Ignoring the two of them he asks, “how?”

She laughs, not the tinkling cheerful sound that he had heard in the manor but a bitter sound, and Bruce wishes he could fix this.

“I was given the miraculous and now I’ve promised to protect this city. Why, regretting your decision to send me here?”

Yes. Very much so. But the words wouldn’t come out of his mouth, and he watches silently as she turns and leaves.

Bruce can feel the weight of Clark and Diana’s gazes. Shrugging off their questions he heads to the nearest teleporter.

His only child that hadn’t wanted this life had been pushed into it.

 .oOo.

 Tim and Marinette have kept in contact. He’s caught several of their conversations, though he’s never joined one.

It’s been nearly a year since he saw her in Paris. And then Tim’s dad tells him he can’t be Robin and that he can’t contact the hero community anymore. Two days later, Ladybug shows up in Gotham worried out of her mind. Stephanie’s the one who finds her and brings her to the cave. When she first starts talking to him, he’s so relieved to speak to her again that he misses out on a bit but the gist of what she said would be, “did something happen to Tim?”

He can tell she’s annoyed with what happened with Jack Drake. But before she can speak, Nightwing walks into the cave to find a detransformed Marinette. And before Marinette can figure out what’s happening, Dick has engulfed her in a hug and Marinette’s laughing. Bruce smiles as he returns to the Batcomputer, it’s been a really long time since he’s heard her laugh.

 .oOo.

 Marinette stays for the next week. She’d apparently panicked and told everyone she had a family emergency and wouldn’t be back for the week. Bruce was glad that she still considered them family, especially after that disastrous conversation in Paris.

She spends time with Barbara, Stephanie and Cassandra. Apparently, Stephanie and Cass already knw her and have spoken to her a few times. She spends some time with him, speaks more to him than she has in the past two years after he sent her to Paris.

On her last day in Gotham, he finds her and Cass in the library. She’s sitting with Cass on the armchair and she and Cass are reading Prince Caspian. They must’ve been here the whole week if she’s gotten to that far. The idea of reading those books in the wrong order is like sacrilege to Marinette.

She returns to Paris when the week ends, but has now added him to her semi-regularly contacted people.

 .oOo.

 Marinette pulls away again after Stephanie dies. From what Tom and Sabine tell him, she’s spending what time she’s not in school, with Alya. Bruce knows that Alya Cesaire knows that Marinette is Ladybug, realises she’s throwing herself into superheroing. Bruce wishes she’d inherited some of his better habits.

She doesn’t visit again for a while. Not until the attack on Titans Tower, and even then he doesn’t see her. He doesn’t know if anyone did.

But when he’s in the library to check something for a case he realises all of Jason’s favourite books that Marinette had with her were back in place.

He doesn’t mention it to anyone.

 .oOo.

 Darkseid happens. When he returns from the time stream, things are different from how he left them.

The whole family comes to the manor, after he returns. They’re all telling stories over dinner. Stephanie speaks of a little girl who idolises batgirl. Dick carries out an over dramatic reproduction of one of his and Damian’s patrols, while Damian complains about how inaccurate it is. Jason’s laughing at the two of them. Cass and Marinette coax Tim into talking about the whole Mr. Sarcastic mess. Dick looks gleeful as everyone rips into Tim’s momentary lapse in a sense of style, before Tim brings up Dick’s first Nightwing suit as a defence. Barbara points out the lack of pants in the first two robin costumes, and the others laugh (Damian grins) while Dick and Jason splutter in indignance. Marinette (who people tend to forget spent a good chunk of time with Dick when she was younger) describes in an exaggerated manner some of Gabriel’s, he’s missed quite a lot, worst akuma costumes and marvels over how he managed to create them while also being a world-renowned fashion designer.

As all of them continue to talk happily, Bruce slips out of the dining room. They deserve a break, but someone still needs to take care of Gotham.

Gotham has unnaturally less crime today, still takes him time to finish his patrol though. Unnaturally less crime in Gotham is still more crime than what most other cities face.

He heads to the library to grab a book to read before he sleeps. There’s a light on in the far corner of the library. When Bruce heads there he finds a large plate with crumbs on it with a few empty or half-finished glasses of milk next to the plate. His children are scattered around. They’ve pushed back the seats and have mostly spread themselves on the carpet. Marinette curled up between Dick and Jason and still reading from the practically ancient copy of the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, Jason’s reading one of his classics. Damian’s sitting on Dick’s other side and is animatedly talking about one of his pets while Dick listens to him attentively. Tim and Barbara are going over something on her laptop at the table, and Stephanie and Cass are curled up against each other and talking quietly. Cass is the first to see him and smiles at him and beckons him to join them. Picking a book off the shelf he joins them on the floor.

When Alfred finds them there the next morning, having gotten used to finding them asleep in the library several times over the years, he just sighs and tells them that breakfast is ready and if they’d like hot food, they’d have to get off the floor. All of them scramble up and as they leave the library, he can hear them starting to plot on how to get Alfred to join them the next time.

[creativeashproductions]

Magician Behind the Music // Owen Joyner

sagSummary: Being in a studio recording songs is an intimidating experience for anyone regardless of age. Wanting the best in the business for his soundtrack Kenny Ortega brings his cast to the best in the business. Heading the production is no ever than Y/N with a certain sparkle when it comes to the tall blonde.

Warning: Swearing, insecurity, oblivious!reader and fluff

Words: 2.1k

A/N: I know nothing about producing songs so I ended up winging it. About time I make a fic for Owen

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

The studio had the sound of music as a group of people walk down the hall of the building that housed world-renowned recording studio. The office chair was leaning back as a figure sat listening to the nearly finished album. Forest green Sanuk slip-on shoes on the feet of the individual the door opening wasn’t heard.

“Girls you wanna hear the finished product?” You questioned from your seat behind the large control panel. The four girls on the video chat excited responded enthusiastic band members.

Not needing anymore push the song replaced the one that had been playing as background noise. Sliding the volume up the music, you had both produced and featured played through the speakers. As the pre-chorus and the chorus came, you couldn’t help but start singing.

 I find peace in every story you told

 I think of you, I’ll never be alone

 It’s true, true, true

 You know I do, do, do

 Oh, I need you more than words can say

 Oh, you save me in ways that I can’t explain

 Always been there for me, now I’ll do the same

 Oh, I need you more than words can say

All five that poured themselves on the song couldn’t help but bop along with the catchy words and beat. By far, one of your most favourite songs you ever co-wrote, feature and produce. You and little Mix had been desiring to co-work on something for years now.

“That pre-chorus and chorus are the favourites of my career!” You excitedly announced glancing up the glass separating the booth from the control room. Your face found a handful of young adults and Kenny in the reflection.

“It’s gonna be a bop to sing!” Perrie agreed with her hair in messy space buns sitting at her computer desk in comfy clothes.

Jesy, Leigh-Anne and Jade wore similar loungewear in the safety of their homes after travelling out of LA back to England. An entire week spent solely on writing music and recording with a few sleepover nostalgic of the teen years.

“I gotta go. My next clients are here.” You told the excited British girl group before your cursor ended the video chat.

Pushing off with your toe on the floor, you faced the group seated taking in the awed expressions from the song. Part of you is annoyed at the blatant disregard of professionalism and the potential of the song being leaked.

“Charlie, Owen, Jeremy, and Madison this is my friend Y/N. She’s a musician, songwriter and a producer.” Kenny spoke, waving towards your seat position at the forefront of the control panel.

Your eyes gleamed brighter with the teal blue cable knit sweater paired with a pair of fitted blue jeans. The pros of being a producer in a recording studio meant the work attire was relaxed compared to desk jobs. It appeared this group was similar.

“Hello.” You spoke standing up to be closer to the group, “I believe you have a soundtrack needed? I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I’d like to ask that the song you overheard not be spoken about again.”

“I’m Charlie.” The brunette with a white hat put on backwards immediately shook your hand. Even with the hat, you could tell his hair was a gorgeous brown that contrasted his pretty eyes hazel green eyes.

“Hi Charlie.” You smiled at the male before stepping around him to the other three people in the room. The only other girl in the room was most definitely the lead of whatever show Kenny was currently doing.

“You’re Madison.” You spoke, taking in her youthful appearance and the quiet wisdom flowing within her eyes, the colour of dark coffee grounds. Her hair was down in her natural texture, resting on the shoulders of her muted olive green shirt.

“Jeremy.” Came from the shorter boy with startling rich dark brown almost black hair and eyes you couldn’t discern between blue or green. His cheeks a permanent pink flush but an infectious grin, “How are you?”

“My collaborators for a song liked it, and I’m not going to explain what you’ll be doing in the booth.” You replied gesturing to the enclosed space with the microphone and a stand of instruments.

Brushing off any other details you finally came to the only nameless individual in the room with the only blonde head of hair.

“Owen.” The blonde spoke softly with his eyes nearly begging to leave your expression with the anxiety building. This was so new for Owen, and unlike anything, he had ever experienced before in his life.

“Take a seat.” You motioned towards the long couch against the wall opposite the recording booth. It was a plus that extended couch perfect for a short nap after a near all-nighter. Your studio was the only one with such a good sofa.

“I’ve worked with Kenny on his Descendants series with the cast along with strictly only musicians. I say this with respect with Kenny, but if you don’t respect me or my process, I won’t hesitate to end this. It’s in the contract.” You sternly told the young individuals, “That being said. Your voice is an instrument that needs to be cared for. You need to be careful with it.”

The vocal coach dove into a more detailed list of the items not to be ingested by actors. The same thing happened with every new client you met after the horror film of a massacre a few years previous. As they went over, you looked over the schedule.

The binder was thick with the different songs in the series with jot notes in the margins. Kenny sat in the other chair, looking at them.

“So, Jeremy is the only one with experience?” You questioned glancing up at your elder with a look of curiosity. Kenny nodded with a fond smile, “Okay so let’s get his vocals for the first song recorded. That way, the others have a first-hand look at how it happens.”

Jeremy was quick to rid himself of his jacket to slide into the booth with the headphones resting on only one ear. In two hours, you had guided Madison and Charlie through their parts of this session. Your mouth opened to invite Owen into the booth but his demeanour concerned you.

“Kenny, how about we take a break for lunch?” You subtly guided Kenny to look at Owen before he quickly agreed.

Charlie was practically skipping out of the recording studio with his hands nudging Jeremy on his way out. Madison, led by her father, left right after leaving Owen to just about exit the room.

“Hey Owen?” You spoke, bringing the tensed young man’s attention, “Can you give me a moment?”

His head of thick blonde hair hesitantly nodded as Kenny followed the other cast members out of the room. Gently nudging the door closed you guided him to sit on the couch with you stationed in the office chair.

“First time recording is a bitch of pressure. I completely understand because I’ve guided people and been guided in the booth.” You began leaning forward to meet his eyes, “I know as someone with anxiety it’s intimidating. Let me know. Whatever you tell me will stay between us.”

Owen was quiet, “I’ve done other projects. I’ve never had the opportunity to have a role as a drummer. I guess this is overwhelming.”

“How about you hop into the room, and we mess around with a song?” You questioned, “I can show you how I produce if you’d like.”

“I’d like that.” Owen’s lips curved just a fraction into a ghost of a smile with the tension in his shoulders melting.

For the next two hours, you spent time in the booth explaining the equipment’s role in the recording. After he gave a short lyric, you invited him to sit by the soundboard with you to walk him through it. All the while, you shared the pizza you had ordered for both of you.

 “I started in the business as background vocals for a few bands before I delved into my own career as a musician. I believe I was about seventeen when I got to be part of people getting the songs ready for fans. I fell in love and find it more fun behind the soundboard.” You informed the blonde listening to a recent song you had finished.

“This is insanely cool. I think I’m ready to record my parts.” Owen admitted playing with his fingers. In response, you typed out a quick message to Kenny, bringing the other people back after a long break.

As much as you would have loved creating the soundtrack, it wasn’t possible with your other commitments. Leaving the work in Alana’s capable hands, you had been packing for your visit to the UK for performing the song with Little Mix. Owen, having the day off, had found himself in your apartment as he had for the last few weeks.

“Do you really have to go?” Owen whined, staring at with his head tilted back on the couch. Lips pursed in a pout and blue eyes shining sadly.

“As much as I would adore falling for that look, we both know I have to.” You admitted dropping packing to snuggle into his side, “What’s up with you lately?”

“What do you mean?” He questioned, rolling his head on the back of the couch you look at you. From the position, he couldn’t see your face, but that didn’t stop him from staring.

“It’s hard to describe, but you get flustered when certain songs come on. You’ve been ditching the cast to spend time with me.” You listed off, staring off into the distance, “You got Charlie to drive in the opposite direction of your work to pick me up.”

“What kind of songs?” Owen inquired with one arched eyebrow high. You shifted to stare up at the soft look in his pretty blue eyes.

“It was some duet from that tv series about the High School Musical films…” Your sentence trailed off as everything clicked, “You have feelings for me.”

“Thought it was blatantly obvious. I danced with you in the rain at midnight while I sang to you. I think that’s the most obvious action.” Owen chuckled brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as he took in the startled expression

Owen had walked you home after a late recording session with the cast talking each other’s ear off with different subjects. His hand had slid into yours as he tugged you into the ice cream shop on the way; a scoop each. His eyes glued to every move you made with passion behind every single word.

“-they came to me about a song. It’s a surprise for Kenny, I suppose.” Your one holding the ice cream cone nearly went flying with the motion you made. Your other clasped in Owen’s without even realizing it.

“So, it’s the last song you’ll be helping us on, right?” Owen asked halting to toss the napkin from his cone in the closest bin. You followed suit while intertwining your fingers back together.

“The girls want to do a short little radio tour to promote the single. It would be a month most likely to brainstorm new ideas for songs. We’ve all agreed to collaborate in the future.” You informed the nineteen-year-old. He was a year and a half younger than you.

“When-”

Your sudden squeal cut him off as the sky opened up to a sudden pouring of rain on the two of you. Had you not been so focused on the conversation you would have seen the cloudy sky and the light drizzle of rain.

“Whoa!” Owen laughed, tugging you into his arms in a complete act of spontaneity. His voice softly singing one of your favourite songs.

As he twirled you around in the rain, he serenaded you with Edwin McCain’s song ‘I’ll Be’ unapologetically sharing a piece of himself. It seemed the universe took pity on the male by allowing him to dance smoothly with his friend.

“This is my favourite song.” You giggled as he dipped you with one of your legs in the air. The joy in your features melting the actor’s heart.

“You’ve been playing it every day for the last week.” Owen beamed, leaning his forehead on yours as he trailed off the end of the song, “I’ve memorized every lyric in it.”

With rainwater dripping down your nose the words settled in your mind cementing something you had been only slightly aware of. Playing that song often meant one thing: you had deep feelings for someone.

The someone being Owen Joyner.

“I’m kind of stupid.” You snorted turning to wrap your arms around his neck, “I’ve got no doubts I fell in love with you in that dance.”

Owen’s grin preceded a toe-curling kiss that was the first of many that would happen.

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[whataboutmyfries]

Russian Roulette

Okay, okay. I am fully aware that it has been an absolute AGE since the last chapter but Life(tm) got in the way of this one and I'm so sorry it's getting to you so late.

Additionally, I hope you guys are aware that minimal editing has happened here.

@lumosinlove thank you so much for letting us mess around with your characters!!

~

Chapter 5

Logan slammed another cup of coffee to the table, running a hand through his already dishevelled hair. “Shit,” he breathed. “This is….this is probably enough for us to completely wreck their operation”

Finn leaned further back in his chair, blinking at the stacks of paper spilling onto the desk; about as much surprise as he’d show in front of Leo. “It is.”

Leo looked utterly unfazed as he sipped from his cup, closing his eyes at the feeling of the hot caffeine sliding down his throat. He rubbed at his eye, fixing the other one on Finn, then on Logan. “Will you do it then?”

Logan and Finn exchanged a glance. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

Leo studied the two of them before dipping his head in a nod of thanks. His voice was hoarse when he spoke again. “Thank you. For all of this.”

Finn waved him off, taking a long sip from his coffee. “Mm, I was wondering if you’d ever come around and show us that brilliant magic of yours.”

Logan laughed. “Forget magic. How would you feel about a game of cards?”

Leo’s eyes glittered “oh darlin’, I’m going to beat your asses.”

And damn if Leo didn’t deliver on his promises. An hour later, the three of them were sat around the table, staring intently at the cards spread over the wood. Finn tossed his knife, the blade making complicated swirls around his fingers as he caught it.

“You’re gonna have to do better than that to win nutty.” He chuckled; not even turning his head as he threw the knife at the dartboard.

Leo didn’t have to look up from his cards to know it’d hit the bullseye.

“Remind me again, which one of us is the magician here?” Leo drawled, eyes twinkling with mischief as he threw down his card.

Logan and Finn groaned, slapping down their cards in exasperation. Leo had won. Again.

“How does he do it?” Logan groused, pouting at the table, pulling one of Finn’s knives free of the wood.

Leo laughed, reaching behind Logan’s ear. And with a complicated twirl of his fingers, he unfurled a fan of cards

Piercing blue eyes looked over the top of the cards and Leo winked at the both of them.

“Magic.”

~

Three am found them sprawled around the room fast asleep. Mugs and cups and pots of coffee on every imaginable surface, papers spilling onto the floor. Leo blinked his eyes open to warm sunlight, shoving his face off the desk. Disoriented, he blinked his eyes frantically, trying to make sense of his surroundings. His eyes landed on a halo of red, and the memories of the previous night came back to him; only to immediately be ignored in favour of the beautiful boy in front of him. Finn’s head leaned back against the couch, exposing the column of his throat, the freckles there mapping constellations onto the creamy skin. Leo wondered if maybe Finn would ever let him trail shapes into those stars; if he tried hard enough, Leo was sure he could trace a wonky version of his namesake onto the alabaster skin. Unable to help himself, his eyes trailed upwards, crimson eyelashes fluttering against high cheekbones like trapped birds searching for a freedom he wasn’t sure he could offer.

He ripped his eyes away, his traitorous heart beating furiously against his ribs. It proved an even bigger mistake to look away because his eyes found smooth tan skin instead. Logan was almost devastating in his beauty when he slept, Chocolate-y hair shimmering in the early light. Sunshine dripping like honey from aristocratic cheekbones and hazel curls. Leo’s thoughts went into overdrive, his brain offering him vague snippets of poetry and literature in a futile attempt to describe the beauty of gods. The sunlight threw shadows across their faces, casting them in stark relief, and Leo’s heart all but crawled out of him to repent.

His heart was beating so loud it honestly surprised him that the two of them hadn’t awoken. This was a mistake. He never should’ve come here, let alone stay the night. Cursing his idiocy, he got up on cat-soft feet and gathered his things, chiding himself for letting down his guard so easy. He saw himself out, sparing one last look for the ethereal beings asleep on the couch. And as Leo let the door fall shut; he failed to realise that he’d been so caught up in cursing his mistakes; he hadn’t noticed hazel eyes trailing him on his way out.

~

Logan— on the other hand— woke to Finn’s feet sliding out of his lap. He knew he was home. He was safe. The syrupy darkness of sleep pulled him back under. Finn woke him again with a hand to his shoulder, the distinctive smell of coffee taking over his senses. Still drowsy, he grinned, a hum rumbling through him. Finn laughed, ruffling his hair.

“I don’t remember adopting a cat, but I can’t say I dislike it.”

Logan shoved at his knee with a socked foot, grumbling incoherently, though the smile on his face rather took away from it.

“Shhhhh it’s too early for your stupid face.”

“So no coffee for you then? More for me I guess”

“Touch my coffee and I’ll punch you”

“Oh shut up, you like my face too much to punch me.”

Logan blinked one eye open. “Who said I was punching you in the face?”

Finn laughed, nudging Logan’s cup closer to him. “Touche.”

Logan took the mug, nursing the warmth of the ceramic between his palms. “You know, that may be the only french thing that sounds halfway decent in that accent of yours.”

Finn flipped him off over the rim of his mug, drinking deeply. “Drink your sugar crash and leave me alone.”

Logan raised an eyebrow “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“It is the sole cause of diabetes in this world and I am willing to die on this hill.”

Logan huffed, shoving papers out from under him so he could shift his feet up onto the couch. The events of the previous night still weighed on him. Lizard had given them….everything. Every detail, every nook and cranny of the snake house was documented. He’d left no stone unturned.

And he’d lost everything, anyway.

“Harz, he’s given us everything we were looking for.”

Finn nodded, “He did, didn’t he?” He gave Logan a look. “What do you want to do about it?”

Logan shrugged a shoulder, staring absently out the window. “We said we’d help.”

“You know you don’t have to follow through, you don’t want to do it, we don’t do it.”

Logan met his gaze, Finn’s sharp edges smoothed into something softer by the early sun. “I want to. It just…..” He trailed off with a vague gesture.

Finn hummed. “I think I know what you mean. But, Lo, we don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to do, okay? The second you want to drop it and leave, we leave, yeah?”

Logan swallowed past the lump that formed in his throat. His chest full to the brim with a feeling he’d come to describe simply as ‘Finn’. It was ephemeral and fleeting but felt like warmth; it felt like coming home. It was the feeling of waking up to find a blanket thrown over you, the feeling of a mug of steaming cocoa pressed into your hands on a bad day, the feeling of sunshine after tumultuous storms. It was the feeling of Finn, joyful and constant and forever ready with a bright smile or dry wit.

Logan smiled at his friend, shoving at Finn’s knee with his foot. “Awww, look at that. You might care about me after all.”

Finn shot him a look, the only warning he gave Logan before tackling him to the couch. Logan let out a somewhat aborted choke-squeal as he fought to get Finn off of him, wrestling his tickling fingers away from him. Logan cackled when Finn yelped overbalancing and falling onto the carpet—followed shortly by Logan, who had been too busy laughing to notice that Finn had grabbed him in a desperate attempt to stop his fall. They both lay on the floor, gasping for breath between peals of laughter, shoving at each other playfully.

Finn let his head drop to a side, catching Logan’s gaze. “You know…..It’s not like we have much to do today….”

Logan grinned “Ice cream and movies all day?”

“You know it.”

~

To put it quite simply, Leo’s brain refused to leave him alone. His smile was more facade than anything else, his beloved cards feeling clumsy and distracting in his hands. His train of thought had derailed almost an hour ago, his body running completely on autopilot as we walked the streets of Gryffindor.

They’d said yes. They’d said yes, and now Leo was going to be working with them. For a considerable amount of time. He couldn’t afford to throw something like this away on some fickle feeling, much less fickle feelings for a mob boss of all people. There was too much at stake.

Leo revealed the card in his hand with a flourish, the gasps of the people around him little more than background noise as he slipped through the crowd, surreptitiously pocketing a couple of fifties he certainly didn’t have before. He strolled unnoticed through the city, checking his watch as he went. He was early. good. He slowed his pace, watching passers-by go about their lives as he marvelled at the busy streets. It never stopped amazing him; the fervour that filled the city. Every street and bend so rife with potential, the possibility of wonderful things just itching to happen.

Like anyone else, Leo was wont to miss his home, the sprawling fields and endless forest of the countryside, but there was nothing quite like Gryffindor, with its skyscrapers shoved next to beggarly hovels and the hum of activity and excitement haunting every corner.

As his thoughts wandered through the city, his feet carried him to a familiar street lined with cafes and charming little stores. He ducked into one of them— a quaint bookshop, the well-worn sign hanging at the door proclaiming its availability to its patrons. The tiny bell above the door announced his arrival, the chime sounding through the magical place.

Leo had always thought that walking into Moony’s was like stepping through a portal to another world. Most bookstores were organised, neat. Books lined from A-Z subject to subject. Not Moony’s. Moony’s was a labyrinth. An explosion of literature and colour and homely comfort in every direction. Books covered every imaginable surface in the store, the shelves full to bursting. Haphazard piles of literature graced the floor, leaning against potted plants and comfy little armchairs scattered across the place. The books were stacked layers deep, some piles reaching as far as the ceiling, teetering precariously alongside narrow walkways. Leo loved it. The smell of tea and well-loved paper wrapped around him like a blanket as he walked to the checkout. An indignant meow drew his attention to the plush armchair, the stacks of books leaning against its arms fashioning it into something of a floral throne.

“Cheshire! How are you, you stinky little muffin?” Leo cooed, scooping up the ball of fur that had taken up residence on the chair. The cat in question purred happily, head butting Leo’s hand demanding head scratches. The blond laughed, indulging the cat and dropping a kiss onto his fuzzy little nose as he walked to the front of the store. A head full of tawny curls shuffled around under the till, clearly looking for something underneath.

“Found that treasure you’re looking for, Loops?”

Remus jumped, standing up with a smile, nearly knocking his head on the counter in the process.

“Missed me enough to come in early today?”

Leo snorted. “You wish. No, I just finished up quicker today.”

Remus raised a brow. “Sure you did. What’s bothering you Nutty? Tell me things.”

Leo’s chest warmed with affection. He sighed deeply; the singular breath seeming to take some pressure off his bones.

“You remember what went down with Pascal a while ago?”

Remus nodded.

“And that I went to the Lions for help like he said?”

Another nod.

Leo took a deep breath. “Well, they said yes.”

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Zuko x female reader series: Part Four

You wake up to the aftermath of your actions and have some decisions to make but it turns out you don’t know Zuko as well as you thought you did.

Part One here

Part Two here

Part Three here

Part Five here

Part Six here

Tagged: @creation-magician​ @kaylove12​ @taeeemin​

Your POV

You woke up in the middle of the night darkness covering your room and what had happened came rushing back vividly. How your talk with Zuko progressed to a kiss, to several kisses to him now lying asleep on the pillow beside you, his bare skin glowing in the dim fire light. He had an arm draped around your waist still and you felt happy at how it felt but also scared. What had you done? You and Zuko had broken past any friendship barriers, there was no going back to normal after this. That thought hurt more than anything, losing Zuko’s friendship scared you to the core and made you think back on how you’d first become friends. 

You were six years old and had been brought into the palace to see if you had potential to be one of Princess Azula’s friends. You were older than Azula by two years but all noble born girls around her age were being brought in and as your parents were friends with Ozai you were one of the first. Ursa and Ozai were actually present too not that you noticed or cared. You were too busy playing in the gardens, Azula already had Ty lee by then and they played together nearby but you didn’t seem to care, the instructions your parents had drilled into you gone from your mind the minute you’d seen toys. So you were crouched playing in the grass when someone crashed into you sending your toy flying. You turned around furious and pushed the culprit hard "you knocked my toy!" you shouted. The boy, Zuko, glared at you for pushing him and went to push you back “did not!” he argued. You fought briefly shoving and hitting each other before you barreled Zuko onto the floor with a hard push and brief kick. Zuko gasped from the floor, it had hurt when you pushed him over and he was in shock. Ursa and Ozai had also gasped when you pushed Zuko over and both were not pleased. Ursa was furious someone had dared touch her precious son and Ozai was embarassed how easy you’d beaten Zuko in a fight. Both were angry watching how this would progress and you parents swallowed hoping somehow you’d turn this around, that you’d realise your mistake, apologise to Zuko and help him up. Instead you  glared down at him in the dirt, daring him to make the next move. "It’s not like I meant to!" Zuko muttered but his expression didn’t change. "Well you still did so you should say sorry" you replied matter-of-factly. Zuko stood up dusting mud off his arms "sorry" he said sarcastically and you rolled your eyes "stupid boy" and turned away. Zuko went to walk away but stopped watching how unbothered by him you were. Part of him was angry, none of the other kids had ever yelled at him, they all treated him like...well a prince but you’d pushed him over and embarassed him in front of all his family without a second thought. That part intrigued Zuko, who were you to not care who he was? Zuko claimed that was the reason he asked to play with you that day, because you’d dared to treat him like a normal kid and not a royal. "What are you playing?" Zuko asked edging closer and you looked at him over your shoulder "ball". "Can i play?" Zuko asked carefully as if you’d hit him again. You shrugged unbothered, back then your temper was shortlived, and Zuko joined you. Your parents watched confused as you bonded with the wrong sibling but soon you and Zuko were lost in your own world together, screaming and shrieking as you chased one another, both laughing and smiling, something fire nation children didn’t do often. When you had to go home Zuko ran to his parents to ask if you could come and play again and that was it. Ozai wasn’t too keen you being a girl but Ursa would do anything if Zuko wanted it and so you were brought back the very next day and from then the two of you were inseparable.

You smiled at the memory but it was a sad smile. Not only may you have wrecked everything with Zuko you’d also done something horrible to Mai, just the thought of her you made you feel guilty. Zuko had cheated on her with you. All the times you’d told Mai you weren’t a threat, all the effort you’d gone into befriending her was wasted as you’d gone and slept with Zuko. She didn’t deserve that and your and Zuko’s discovery of mutual affection didn’t justify what you’d done. Zuko shifted in his sleep and his arm around you tightened. "Y/n?" he asked noticing you were awake "you okay?". You nodded staying silent and felt Zuko tense. "Are you sure?" he asked retracting his arm "you’re not regretting this are you?". You heard the worry in Zuko’s voice and shook your head "no...yes...i don’t know" you sighed. Zuko was silent before touching your arm softly "then tell me". You sighed flopping onto your back "we cheated zuko! You cheated of Mai with me! We did that! Mai doesn’t deserve that but we did it to her!". "I know" Zuko said frowning and you carried on "and i know that but still i’m glad it happened" you sighed "and that makes me so angry at myself! How many times did i deny i liked you, told Azula there was nothing wrong with our closeness, acted as if i would never do this and i just did". Zuko frowned "y/n you didn’t know how you felt when you told her all that, you couldn’t have known this would happen, we just got lost in the moment that’s all, we didn’t mean to hurt Mai and i’ll talk to her about it". "You will?" you asked and Zuko nodded "I will, i’ll do the right thing and call it off with her I promise, but last night...y/n last night was the greatest night of my life" he blushed "being with you felt..." he trailed off and you blushed too. You felt that way too. "I know" you told him resting a hand against his face and stroking his burnt cheek. Zuko leant into your hand and kissed it. "I want this" he sighed "i want this with you" he told you "i want you" he told you and you felt the hairs on your arms stand up. "I want you too" you agreed and Zuko leant back in to kiss you. You let him but when it moved onto something more you stopped him. "Zuko" you breathed pushing his chest "no, not until you’ve told Mai, otherwise this isn’t okay". Zuko frowned but nodded "you're right, I have to do the right thing by her and you". You nodded as Zuko moved away from you "i should go then" Zuko told you "so i’m not tempted". You blushed and Zuko smirked "i’ll tell Mai today y/n". You smiled "that’s the right thing to do". "And aften i have?" Zuko asked looking at you suggestively and you smirked knowing what was on his mind. "Not straight after but maybe a week or so after, you know a respecful amount of time and even then we’ll keep it just between us at first but yeah...we'll carry on what we started here" you smiled. Zuko sighed as he finished getting dressed but nodded "okay". He lingered just looking at you before he turned away with great force “I’ll find you once i’ve done it”. You nodded “good luck?”. Zuko smiled staring at you, taking every detail of you in once more before leaving.

You couldn’t sleep after Zuko left. You tried but every time you closed your eyes you’d picture last night with Zuko...everything he did, everything you did, everything you both did and you couldn’t relax. So you decided to just get up and were grateful when finally the morning came. You got on with your day managing to not give away what you’d just done with Zuko and got ready for an evening ball, some show of Ozai’s force before the upcoming eclipse. Zuko hadn’t come to find you all day so you assumed he hadn’t got a chance to tell Mai, or so you thought. On your way into the ballroom someone grabbed your arm and tugged you into side room. When you saw it was Zuko you looked at him expectantly "did you tell her?". Zuko shook his head "actually...my father spoke to me first". You’d almost completely forgotten about Ozai’s announcement to you. You tensed figuring he’d told Zuko you were engaged and waited for Zuko to ask why you didn’t tell him but he didn’t. "Don’t get mad!" he cried and you frowned "what?". "My dad’s asked me to stick with Mai for a while longer". You frowned still confused "what?". "He somehow knew I wanted to break up with her because he came to me this morning and told me I needed to stay with her for now until he closes a deal with her uncle, so not to make any announcements until then". You swallowed at how close Zuko had come to the real meaning behind Ozai’s words. You were so shocked at how you’d managed not to get exposed you just nodded “okay”. "Okay?" Zuko asked shocked and you shook your head "well obviously it’s not okay, using Mai like that, but we'll talk about it later". Zuko nodded and watched you leave the room.

All through the ball Zuko stood beside Mai making you tense and jealous which you knew was ridiculous. You believed Zuko when he said he wanted you, plus you knew Ozai wanted you two to marry, that was a lot of security for any new relationship. Plus Mai and Zuko were the ones actually dating! You were literally the one invading their relationship but still it made you wary, just watching them interact. You wanted Zuko to tell Mai so you and him could start being you, you hated this feeling, it felt so underhanded. Ty lee appeared beside you "what you looking at?" she asked and you snatched your eyes away from Zuko and Mai but she saw. "Ow.." she trailed off "are you okay?". "I’m fine" you snapped and Ty lee raised an eyebrow "really because you looked jealous". You glared and Ty lee shrugged "what i’m just being honest, i’ve never seen you like that especially at Zuko and Mai but that’s what you looked like...y/n you’ve been off all night has something developed?". You looked around and Ty lee noticed "y/n i won’t tell anyone". You raised an eyebrow "why not? If i was you i’d be loyal to Mai and Azula". Ty lee shrugged "i am loyal to them but i’m also my own person...plus you know we’re friends too right?". You frowned in response and Ty lee laughed "ouch!". "No i’m sorry" you sighed "i just always figured you were Azula’s and Mai’s friend never mine, you’re closer to them". Ty lee shrugged "so, i can have more than two friends". You nodded "i suppose" and Ty lee smiled "good, so what’s up with you and Zuko". "Nothing" you swallowed "just him and Mai seem closer". Ty lee nodded "yeah the trip helped...atleast i think". "What do you mean?". "Well they argued...a lot but then Mai disappeared to his room on the final night and in the morning they seemed fine". "Wait, wait, did Mai and Zuko...Mai was gone the whole night?". Ty lee looked down awkwardly but nodded "yeah...i couldn’t help but notice because we shared a room". You bit your lip, not even 24 hours later you and Zuko....

"Was it the first time she and him...do you know?" you asked and Ty lee frowned "why do you want to know?". You debated telling her for a split second before realising that would be a stupid thing to do. "I just had no idea their relationship was so...serious Zuko never gives the impression it is so i’d be suprised if it wasn’t a new development". Ty lee frowned "well that’s not good to hear but i promise i won’t tell Mai" she assured you and you glanced away awkwardly. "But no it’s not new" Ty lee told you suddenly "it happened a few days after Zuko got back to the fire nation". You felt like someone had thrown water over you as you nodded "ow wow that is a shock". Ty lee narrowed her eyes "y/n does that make you...". "It doesn’t make me anything, well maybe angry at Zuko for not telling me, i mean best friends share that stuff!" you said putting on a fake smirk. "Thanks Ty lee for listening" you smiled even though she had done most of the talking. "Any time" Ty lee smiled and she squeezed your shoulder before walking away. Ty lee gone your eyes fell to where Zuko stood with Mai. Zuko had been busier than you’d thought...

Zuko’s POV

Zuko had made a point of trying not to look at you but he couldn’t help seeming to find you. First it when you entered looking amazing in that dress, then it was when you spoke to some old navy general, then when Ty lee chatted to you and now Zuko was watching as some guy stood beside you. He recognised the boy as some highborn man’s son, Zuko couldn’t remeber whose specifically, and watched anxiously as the boy seemed keen to stick beside you. Zuko couldn’t tell if the guy was bothering you but he was certainly bothering Zuko. “What’s got your face all weird like that?” Mai asked and Zuko jumped not realising she was beside him. “Nothing I was just wondering where my sister got to, when you can’t see her is usually when you’re in the most danger” Zuko bluffed. Mai raised an eyebrow “she’s right there Zuko” gesturing to where Azula stood with Ty lee nearby “where she’s been for the past hour”. “Ow” Zuko commented and Mai narrowed her eyes looking at where you stood in full view on the ballroom floor below. “Y/n and Ikem seem to be hitting it off” she commented. “Who?” Zuko asked like he didn’t know exactly who Mai was talking about. “Ikem” Mai replied “you know son of Liang, your families have been allies for years?”. “Ow yeah” Zuko nodded frowning openly at the boy “he’s wasting his time with her, she won’t be interested in someone like him”. “Who is she interested in then?” Mai asked and Zuko avoided Mai’s eye but managed not to blush “i’m not sure, I never met her past partners they were all soldiers in the navy”. “How do you even know that I didn’t and I was right here in the capital all this time”. “I...she...I asked Ty lee” Zuko admitted and Mai frowned “why not just ask y/n herself?”. Zuko felt his face redden dangerously “I did but she wouldn’t tell me” Zuko lied, in reality he’d been too embarassed to ask you, part of him was scared you’d found many people to be with in his banishment, when he’d never thought of any other girl but you. He’d asked Ty lee out of curiosity and got ridiculously jealous just to hear you’d been with two other people before him. The memory made Zuko’s jaw tense and Mai frowned “weird I thought there were no secrets between the two of you”. “Maybe just the one” Zuko replied and felt Mai stiffen. If he was going to keep this a secret he should probably stop staring at you while Mai was next to him. “We should probably circulate the room” Zuko said awkwardly turning away from you and holding an arm out stiffly for Mai. She took it and Zuko lead her purposefully in the opposite direction to you. He’d find a way to get that boy to leave you alone but first he had to play prince.

Your POV

You were saved from some boring fire nation boy who was intent on never leaving your side by a note from Zuko asking you to meet him after the party. You were still angry at him but keen for an escape complied, arriving at his room moments after him. He let you in glancing around in a bad show of pretending not to be paranoid and smiled at you. You ignored his smile and walked over to the window wondering how to bring up what Ty lee had told you. Zuko couldn’t seem to tell anything was wrong, he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you “what you thinking about?”. “This and that” you said coldly not relaxing into his touch no matter how much you wanted to. Zuko frowned seeing your expression in the reflection of the window. "What’s wrong?" Zuko asked his hands falling away from your shoulders. “Y/n” Zuko said tugging your arm to make you face him when you didn’t reply. You sighed and just decided to come out with it. "I didn’t know you and Mai had been intimate" you said slowly and Zuko tensed letting his arms drop from you fully. "How did you find out?". "I heard" you shrugged "it doesn’t matter how". "Okay i get you feel betrayed that i didn’t tell you before we...but y/n with Mai it was very different and we only did it a couple of times". "When was the last time?" You asked and Zuko swallowed "two weeks ago". You struggled not to smile in disbelief as Zuko told a massive lie right to your face. "So not on the last night of your holiday?" you asked. Zuko paled and you sighed shaking your head. "I only didn’t tell you because of how soon we got together aftwewards! I didn’t want to make you angry". "Well that worked" you retorted and Zuko sighed. "Plus it didn’t matter! By then i was very aware I liked you, you weren’t with us...I was missing you, i knew it wasn’t working with Mai but she offered it as an olive branch so i took it but i didn’t experience it properly, I wasn’t there with Mai...in my head it was with you, I wanted it to be you but i had no idea you liked me, if i did i’d never have touched her". "Why didn’t you tell me though?" You asked "Zuko that makes you and Mai way more serious, especially given how recent it was for you both". "I didn’t want to ruin this" Zuko sighed "this, us..we’re still so new but i don’t want anything to mess it up so i didn’t mention it". You shook your head and Zuko sighed "i didn’t know if you’d mind i mean i know you’ve been with people before me". You heard the tone in Zuko’s voice and spun on him "what? What does that have to do with anything?". "Well I just meant...I knew other people have been with you...I heard about it somehow...but anyway I knew it wasn’t a first time for either of us, if it had been i’d have told you". "Zuko i don’t care about the fact we’ve both had experiences and partners before! I care because less than 24 hours earlier you were with Mai intimately! If i’d have known..". "You’d have stopped it?" Zuko asked and you sighed "i don’t know! Maybe? It would’ve changed things". "Hence why i didn’t tell you" Zuko cried and you sighed "just because you’ve made something easier doesn’t mean you made it better" you snapped "you didn’t tell me about Mai and i don’t feel good about what we did and she still doesn’t know!" you cried. Zuko nodded "i know but my father said now isn’t a good time to break up with her". You rolled your eyes at how Ozai was using you and Mai while Zuko had no idea. "I promise as soon as i can i will tell her" Zuko said "and if my father drags it on i’ll tell her anyway". "How long before you do that?" You asked and Zuko frowned "i don’t know maybe a couple of weeks or months?". When your eyes flared Zuko backed down "okay not that long! Only a few weeks? 2 at most I promise". You still didn’t relax "and in the mean time what buisness as usual?". "Well no more sex" Zuko told you "you’re right i shouldn’t use Mai like that and i don’t want it so i will stop anything she tries, that goes for kisses too". You frowned "i just feel awful still using Mai for whatever deal your dad needs". Zuko nodded "i know but i have to do as he says". Zuko’s tone when he said that was so flat and expresionless it made you look up at him. Zuko was staring at the floor eyes fixed on one spot, he looked so defeated and lost, he almost looked scared and you realised why. The reminder of what happened the last time Zuko disobeyed his father was right there on his face. You felt a wave of sympathy for him, you didn’t want to but you’d always cared for Zuko and how that was hightenned. You sighed and hugged him "i know". Zuko seemed shocked and looked down at you "you’re not mad at me anymore?". "Ow i’m still pissed" you nodded "but i understand...kind of, but if you keep something like this from me again...". "I swear i will not" Zuko promised "i will tell you whatever you want to know...wherever you want to know...however you want to be told..." Zuko smirked and you pushed his incoming face away from you. "Hey none or that, not while you’re still dating Mai, you’re going celebate from her and me". Zuko frowned but saw your face and sighed "yes because it’s the right thing to do y/n". You grinned and ruffled his hair "so you can be trained! Good to know, maybe i can make a boyfriend out of you yet". Zuko blushed but smiled "that’s the goal". You smirked but stopped yourself "don’t get ahead of yourself we’ve got a mess to clean up!". Zuko nodded but smirked “I promise I’ll sort this and in the mean time, best behaviour” he winked and you blushed. “Unless you ask me not to...” Zuko said and you hit his arm away “I’m leaving...”. “Y/n I was joking I only meant this might be just as hard for you as it is for me, it won’t just be me resisting you”. “You sure about that? I have pretty good control” you smirked confidently but Zuko just raised an eyebrow. “I liked you for years and never did anything, you liked me for a mere week before you told me you liked me, kissed me and then had sex with me...and all in the same night”. You swallowed at the bluntness of the facts and Zuko smirked. “That was a one time coincidence” you glared and Zuko laughed “sure...all i’m saying is don’t make your rules too tight”. You rolled your eyes but felt heat rise to your cheeks “i’ll be fine without you”. “Sure” Zuko said eyebrows raised and he flopped onto his bed “I bet you will be”. You watched as he laid back, posture so relaxed and smug...so inviting, he knew this was working. “You’re an ass” you called walking to the door but you were supressing a smile. “I’m here if you need me” Zuko called after you and you slammed the door shut before leaning against it on the other side. Although sneaking around with Zuko wasn’t right it sure was going to be fun.      

[the-last-cuddlebender]

Kataang Pilot!AU

(This prompt was really fun. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, Anon!)

Words: 1,659

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Katara met him when they were in flight school. Well, ‘met’ might be too strong a word.

She was walking down the hall and contemplating fluid dynamics when she passed him—the boy with tattoos a shade of blue that put the sky to shame and with a smile so bright that she had to squint to behold it. His laugh was a vapor trail that made her giddy like nothing else had done before. He gesticulated so animatedly that he nearly cut off the heads of a dozen passers-by.

Katara tried, once, to talk to him. It was the only test in flight school that she failed. She was too quiet; the world was too loud. It didn’t exactly help that some boy named Haru had pulled the tattooed boy into a headlock that devolved into a wrestling match just as she got his attention.

He tried, twice, to talk to her. He was more than successful both times.

The first time, he spotted her from across the courtyard and damn near teleported to her.

His name was Aang. He wasn’t that tall.

He was the kindest soul she’d ever met.

When he left the school, he took most of her with him, and Katara had been searching for what he stole ever since.

...

Not too long after he left her puzzled, empty, and longing, Katara had to leave, as well. But it wasn’t for an advanced program like he flew off to.

Gran-Gran had a heart attack. It wasn’t pretty. Katara was the glue and the salve cooing her brother and her father to cope and recover. They helped her just as much, and she vowed to visit them more.

(Gran-Gran told her that she saw death, called him a bitch, and reminded him to tell her daughter-in-law that Kya had to wait another ten years for her company.)

...

Katara was only a little behind and only had to retake a few classes when she returned to flight school a year and a half later, but it wasn’t the end of the world.

Graduating was easy, but choosing an employer? That was hard. Katara was an ace—the top of her class. They even put her photo in the hall of notable students.

...She was reminded of Aang and what he stole from her every time she saw his portrait pinned next to hers.

...

It was a requirement to serve as a co-pilot for the first few years after schooling. It was like a continued education after medical school when an MD truly learned what it meant to be a practitioner, but turning from co-captain to captain felt like it was taking twice as long.

Sometimes, it took students twelve years to become a captain. Sometimes, it took them two years.

It took Aang eight months.

Katara was entering her ninth month when she was transferred to his airline.

He spotted her from across the terminal like he had been waiting and looking for her. He vanished and reappeared at her side, and if only he had a puff of smoke, she would have thought him a magician.

He shook her hand and talked at Mach speed. His smile alone nearly blew her away, but his hand holding hers kept her on her feet.

“—it was you! They all said you dropped out, but I knew you wouldn’t! And then I saw your plaque when I visited on a favor-call from Roku, and I couldn’t believe—!”

He paused. Katara’s world stood still. Her world also looked kindof splotchy and dotted with black.

That was weird…

Oh wait.

Breathing.

Breathing was a thing she had to do.

Unfortunately, Katara was too late in her revelation. Her heart broke when his eyes softened like that and his concern boiled over into panic. She was thinking about how nice it sounded when he said her name even as she fell back and fainted.

He caught her, of course.

Luckily, Mai and Lu Ten were willing to exchange their schedules to save either Katara or Aang from being fired.

(He had refused to leave her. It was incredibly foolish. Top in the industry or not, their superiors would only take so much from even him.)

It wasn’t exactly a first date, but he bought her food from the cafeteria and bought her one of those super-fuzzy travel blankets to keep her warm. They talked over pizza that was so greasy that they had to dab it with napkins, and they laughed over coffee that was far too bitter to be called ‘edible’.

They shared secrets over hot cocoa and talked like they knew each other forever.

Aang thought he was being sly when he loaded his straw with a paper wad and blew it at her.

He smiled like a kid on Christmas.

Katara felt like she was one, too.

The g-forces she experienced when he smiled—at her—made her so lightheaded that she whispered a thankful prayer to whoever was pulling her life’s strings that she was seated when she first witnessed the miracle so close and in its entirety.

They fell asleep back-to-back (though it was more like side-to-side) in the terminal—just another ‘couple’ bending under the stress of a connecting flight.

...

“You seem eager to be out of here.” Katara settled into her co-pilot’s chair as her captain fussed over the little details that Katara’s classmates had made fun of her for caring about.

“Ba Sing Se has never been...Well, let’s just say that it’s not like how I was raised.”

“But the South is?”

“Of course! Middle of nowhere, lots of high places, room to run and frolic as I please—”

Katara couldn’t hide her laugh. “Frolic?”

“Have you never frolicked?”

“When I was a girl, maybe.”

“You should try it sometime. It’s not like it gets any less fun with age.”

“Is that an invitation?”

“...Maybe.” Aang scratched his face, didn’t meet her eyes, and flushed a color even brighter than the emergency exit sign. “Or it could...be a date?”

“To go frolicking?”

“Of course.”

It was quiet until it wasn’t. A giggle slipped past Katara’s defenses. She hugged her middle and laughed so hard that she cried, and she nearly laughed herself into a coma when Aang bent over, too. His laugh sounded like how good memories felt, and Katara never wanted to hear more of something in her entire life.

She couldn’t feel her seat beneath her—just the feeling of her hand on his arm and the soft bumping of his head against hers.

Katara was falling, and she was falling hard.

But, for some reason, she wasn’t scared of hitting the ground.

If she didn’t know any better, she might have thought that she was flying.

...

Sokka, having heard the hint of interest in Katara’s voice when she recounted her tale with her dreamy tattooed captain, made immediate plans and cashed-in on more than a few favors to get himself onto her new schedule. He didn't trust Aang, not at first. No one could be that happy.

“—and gentlemen, in the event that you have not been in an automobile since 1942, we’re gonna show you how to fasten a seatbelt, so watch closely—”

Sokka, while a phenomenal flight attendant, was walking a razor’s edge onto Katara’s last nerve.

But Aang and her brother got along famously.

Katara should have expected nothing less.

This was Aang she was talking about.

Her boyfriend could befriend the devil himself.

The thought made Katara’s world get fuzzy and black-splotchy again. Luckily, Aang was laughing too hard with Sokka to notice her holding tight to the wall.

Breathing.

Breathing was a thing she had to do.

Aang’s vapor-trail-laugh gave her the cardinal directions and guided her towards which way was up. His arm curled around her waist like the seatbelts that had kept them anchored when they hit turbulence two months ago and dropped 400 feet.

Katara didn’t notice when next she blushed so hard that her vision went black-splotchy again.

But Aang, without pausing his conversation, was already tugging her closer so she all but pressed right against his heart.

His laugh died out. His chest slowly expanded.

Breathing.

Katara smiled.

Breathing was a thing she still had to do.

...

When Katara finally got her wings, Aang couldn’t have been more proud.

Sokka puffed his chest. “This is Katara, my flying sister.”

“Sokka, please…”

“Yeah, Sokka.” Aang was a grinning shadow touching her shoulder and a reminder to smile brushing her side. “Katara isn’t your ‘flying sister’.”

“Thank you, Aang—”

Aang hugged her from behind and held her so tightly that he curled over and started to eclipse her. “Katara is my flying girlfriend~”

Aang rubbed his cheek to hers. Katara grumbled and fought fate to keep angry as long as she could. “You both are insufferable.” She kissed Aang’s cheek like she was swatting a mosquito, but it only made him giggle and hold her tighter.

Sokka pretended to gag and uttered ‘Oogies’ like a mantra.

Katara blushed, lost her slippery grip on the smile fighting to make itself seen, and looked at her father just as the shutter on Hakoda’s camera went off.

...Aang carried the photo on his person like it was a medical device so vital that he would die if he was ever without it.

“Do you have to keep it there?” Katara pulled one switch and then two, and she side-eyed her smirking First Officer.

Aang ignored her and adjusted the photo pinned to the gauges in front of him. His smile got a little bigger, his eyes a little softer. He looked down at the clouds below them and then up at the heavens beyond. “...The stars sure are beautiful, tonight.”

His hand found hers—they were at an altitude that required little more than autopilot, but it was still breaking regulation.

Katara gently squeezed his fingers. “Yeah. They are.”

...

All of their nights melted into a routine that felt like the same night played over and over.

Katara wouldn’t have had it any other way.

She didn’t mind when Aang put up a fuss just because he could and because he liked to get her flustered. She didn’t even mind when he cocooned himself in the blankets and pouted in a silent demand for five more minutes.

He was only playing. He could be plenty serious if he wanted.

Like the time he crabbed the plane onto an icy runway in an emergency landing. Or like the time he dove into the belly of the plane to give CPR to an elderly passenger.

His seriousness could only go so far, though. He truly was a child at heart. There was nothing wrong with that, of course. Something forever young could never grow brittle and die.

Like the way he blushed every time she reached for his hand. Or like the little hitch to his voice that took over his words whenever she hugged him.

He could hardly speak when he asked her to marry him.

Katara wasn’t that much better off, but neither of them had needed words for the longest time. They sat side-by-side in the nose of the plane and ‘spoke’ in the silence for hours on end.

Kisses were quiet, anyways.

Well, not entirely.

Aang laughed, absolutely giddy, every time, no matter how much or how often they did.

Katara’s laugh drifted in his vapor trail as a gentle hum that made his smile impossibly bigger.

Then, and only then, did it feel like she had finally gotten back what he had stolen—all those years ago—from her.

...

His voice was a song, and his love bled into every worded lyric. They were the warm purrs of an engine that would never fail, and they made Katara’s stomach fall and bounce heaven-ward like her wheels had just left the ground.

When she danced with him, every step felt like lift-off. Every turn gave her g-forces that had her sinking into him to keep from being blown away.

The wedding was over, their guests were gone, but every star and galaxy crowded the sky to witness their love for each other.

This was her captain and co-pilot—her husband and best friend for life.

His name was Aang. He was very tall and quite proud of it, though he made himself eye-level with every person he met.

He was a simple monk and a dirty thief.

But Katara finally had back what was hers.

What was hers was named Aang.

He was the kindest soul she’d ever met.

He kept her grounded even though her feet never touched the earth when she was with him.

He was the part of her that she loved most.

His kisses were g-forces.

His ‘I love you’s were free-falling.

His hugs were the wings that handed her the sky.

His smiles were the spirit that held her aloft.

His name was Aang.

He was hers.

He was the kindest soul she’d ever met.

And Katara would remind him of how much she loved him even long after they were both tied to the earth.

*********************************

.

.

If you spotted that reference to Tao philosophy, I give you a cookie🍪☺️

[hailing-stars]

@febuwhump day 12 who are you

the world minus one 

summary 

“Who the hell are you?”

“Agent Woo,” he says.

“Ha,” says Peter. He grins. “That rhymed.”

“I’ve been assigned to oversee your home detainment,” he tells him, flashing his card as if he were a magician, and they were at a magic show, instead of the most boring place on planet earth

OR

Agent Jimmy Woo is assigned to oversee Peter's house arrest post far from home, and Peter's eyes see probation officer but his brain screams FRIEND.

Peter considers chopping his foot off.

Did he really need two feet? Maybe Mr. Stark could fashion him a prosthetic like he did for his own Infinity Gauntlet damaged arm, or maybe Peter could spend one of his annoyingly long days trapped inside this apartment figuring out how to do it himself.

He’s exiled to a much larger apartment than the one he and May share in Queens, but somehow, it still manages to be cramped and suffocating, as if the air there was thick and might smother him before the boredom drove him up the walls.

That is if his ankle monitor doesn’t choke the life out of him first.

He pulls at it, itching at it from his place sitting in the middle of the living room floor, when the doorbell rings and Peter stops, he frowns. Mr. Stark isn’t expected to visit him today, and May isn’t due for dinner until a couple of hours.

With a sigh, he stands and walks across his apartment. He opens the door to an unfamiliar face wearing a familiar and unwelcome FBI jacket.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Agent Woo,” he says.

“Ha,” says Peter. He grins. “That rhymed.”

“I’ve been assigned to oversee your home detainment,” he tells him, flashing his card as if he were a magician, and they were at a magic show, instead of the most boring place on planet earth.

It’s an awkward moment. Him just standing there, in the hall, and Peter basks in his ability to make a Fed sweat.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“Are you a vampire?”

“...I’m sorry?”

“Vampires,” sighes Peter. “They have to be let in. Feds usually don’t wait for an invitation. Not used to one having manners.”

Peter walks away from the door, leaving it open, and hoping that’s enough of an invitation. It isn’t like he has a choice anyway.

Agent Woo shuts the door behind him, and something stabs at Peter. He’s being rude. His aunt taught him better than that, and there’s something about Agent Woo that Peter decides he likes. The magic trick, maybe.

Peter offers him coffee. Agent Woo looks over at the kitchen, which is admittedly a disaster zone, and politely declines.

“So, what’s your job?” asks Peter. He clears a space off of the dining room table for them to both sit down. “Making sure I’m not staging an escape attempt?”

“Basically, I’ll be dropping by from time to time, to ensure you’re behaving yourself,” says Agent Woo. “Tony Stark did bribe me to harass you about your online classes and that’s not typically part of my job description, I need the money for my children’s college -”

“-you have kids?”

“Not yet, but I plan to, and with the way the economy is-” Agent Woo pauses. “We’re really supposed to be talking about you.”

“I’m behaving myself,” says Peter. “I’m attending my online classes, and I’ve got no plans to take up a new identity and flee the country. Now back to you. Anyone special you’re planning on having these kids with? I need all the details.”

It’s true. He does.

There isn’t much entertainment in his life what with being locked up in an apartment, spending most of his days alone. It’s for May’s safety that they aren’t able to live together during his house arrest, during the massively long stretch of time before his trial, but that doesn’t mean Peter likes it.

Agent Woo spills something about a doctor before pausing a second time and getting back on track. He recites the same information Peter’s heard before. It’s really boring and a waste of time, but Peter supposes he’s got lots of it to waste, anyway.

“Any questions for me?” Agent Woo asks, once he’s finished with his spiel.

“Can you show me how to do that magic trick?”

“Maybe another time,” he tells him, then looks around. “You know, a lot of people in your situation find it helps to form a routine and create a clean living space. Waking up in the morning, showering, putting on normal clothes.”

Peter frowns at the sudden callout. “Who says pajamas aren’t normal?”

“Just offering some friendly advice.”

He stands, and heads for the door, telling him he’ll be by in a couple of weeks, when Peter feels the throbbing near his ankle.

“Agent Woo,” says Peter, before he gets to the door. “You wouldn’t, um, know how to loosen the ankle monitor? I may have been what Mr. Stark fondly refers to as tactless with the agent who put it on and they may have retaliated just a little bit.”

So, Agent Woo loosens the ankle monitor, and Peter, once he’s alone in the apartment, collapses on his couch and decides that he and Agent Woo are going to be friends, despite the unsolicited advice.

*

Peter’s prepared the next time Agent Woo visits.

Coffee is going, the apartment is clean, and he’s got five packs of playing cards laid out on the kitchen table. It had been a lot of whining on his part to convince Mr. Stark to drop everything and run to the store and buy them, but this is an emergency. A magic emergency.

He’s also ordered a pizza, and it arrives just as Agent Woo starts his regular round of checkup, interrogation questions.

“Oh, that’s the pizza,” says Peter, when the doorbell rings.

Agent Woo opens his mouth as Peter leaps up from his chair, but ultimately doesn’t say anything. Once Peter’s back to the kitchen table, he opens the box and lets the aroma fill the apartment.

“Want a slice?”

“That would be crossing professional bounds…” says Agent Woo. His voice trailed off. He stared at the pizza. “But that pizza looks really good, and I haven’t had lunch…”

Peter pushes the box closer to the FBI agent. Agent Woo grabs a slice, and official talk about Peter’s detainment falls to the wayside.

“Tell me about the doctor,” says Peter. “Is she pretty?”

Agent Woo obliges, and Peter begins to understand why Woo’s crushing on her so hard. She sounds kickass. And Peter’s rooting for them.

“You gotta ask her out, man,” says Peter. A string of melt cheese hangs off his mouth and swipes it away. “I mean, Agent Woo.”

The agent laughs, and by the time he leaves, Peter knows how to do the magic trick and almost no time was spent talking about his upcoming trial or the conditions of his house arrest.

*

Peter bleeds out on his living room floor.

He hadn’t meant to get stabbed. He hadn’t even meant to step out of his apartment, but it’s getting to him. The confinement. The crime happening below his apartment and he’s expected to sit by and let happen.

Mr. Stark is going to kill him, and he wouldn’t have called him if not for the pain, the unbearable pain of his skin stitching itself back together. Superpowered healing doesn’t come without it’s trauma.

To make matters worse, his doorbell rings, and he isn’t expecting anyone, so he knows it’s Agent Woo.

He inhales deep. He tries freeing his face from displaying the terrifying agony he’s experiencing in his leg, and he limps over to answer the door.

Agent Woo isn’t fooled. “Jesus Christ, is that blood?”

“Is that Delmar’s?” Peter momentarily forgets his situation when he spots the brown bag in Agent Woo’s hand, and when he smells the unforgetful aroma of Delmar’s Deli.

“Forget the sandwiches,” says Agent Woo. He walks into the apartment, helps Peter back to the couch, and places the bag on the coffee table. “What happened to you?”

“Don’t freak out,” he tells him. “I accidentally stabbed myself with a steak knife.”

Agent Woo stands, crosses his arms. “I’m supposed to believe you did that to yourself? On accident?”

“To be fair,” says Peter. “You’ve known me long enough to know that’s also extremely probable.”

“How could you do this,” says Agent Woo. He isn’t angry. His voice sounds the same as Mr. Sark’s had on the phone. Worried. Afraid for him, and what’s done, putting his own privilege of pretrial house arrest on the line for a few minutes fighting petty criminals. “You know what’s at stake if you break the rules.”

“I know,” says Peter, softly. “I’m sorry.”

“We need to put pressure on that.”

Agent Woo disappears from his sight and returns with a towel he carefully ties around Peter’s leg wound.

“Are you sure you don’t need a hospital?”

Peter shakes his head. “Spider healing will work it’s magic.”

He closes his eyes and tries to block out the pain, and when that doesn’t work, he decides a distraction is what he needs.

“Tell me about Dr. Lewis,” he says, through a grimace. “Have you asked her out yet?”

Agent Woo sits on the couch next to him. “Not yet.”

“You gotta get on that,” says Peter. “Before someone else does.”

“I don’t know about that, Pete,” he tells him. “I don’t know if someone like her would say yes to someone like me.”

“Someone like you? Someone who’s a nice person? And likes all the same cheesy sit-coms as her?” asks Peter. “Dude, you two are perfect for each other. You’re gonna ask her, and she’s going to say something like geez, finally, I was waiting for you to get a clue, and then you’ll have little Dr. Lewis-Woos running around all over the place.” He stops, the pain stabs, and he keeps going. “She’d be lucky.”

“Thanks, Peter.”

“Anytime,” says Peter, his voice cracking. The edges of his vision blur, but he’s able to focus on the brown bag on the coffee table. “You really brought me Delmar’s?”

“Last time I was here you said how much you missed it.”

“Make a habit of doing favors for murders? Fun.”

The pain’s making him more bitter, more honest, more angsty about the fact that the entire world thinks he’s killed that clown Mysterio. Maybe that’s what his temporary escape is really about. Trying to prove that he’s good. That he’s against the crimes people say he’s committed.

“I know you’re not a murderer.”

The entire world minus one, he guesses, along with his friends and family.

“You believe me?”

“I’ve dealt with killers before,” says Agent Woo. “You’re not one of them.”

Peter feels lighter, better even in his leg, by the idea of someone like Agent Woo believing his innocence. Gives him hope maybe his house arrest will end with freedom instead of prison, like Mr. Stark has been telling him from the start.

His good feeling doesn’t last long, though, because Mr. Stark barges through the door and Peter’s spidey senses know he’s about to get a lecture.

“How could you be so stupid?”

“Mr. Stark -”

“-No,” says Mr. Stark. “No excuses. I’ve warned you over and over again. Where is it?”

Peter pulls the device he’d built to interfere with the ankle monitor out from his pocket, and hands it over to Mr. Stark, who breaks it.

“For a genius,” says Agent Woo, as he eyes the broken parts of the interference device. “You really lack common sense.”

Mr. Stark turns his attention to Agent Woo. “Look, Agent -”

“-I’m off duty,” says Agent Woo, standing up from the couch. “Just a guy bringing some sandwiches, and I’ve really got no reason to believe he didn’t slip and fall, uh, on a kitchen knife. Just… never again.”

Peter nods his head. “Okay, yeah, never again.”

Agent Woo leaves them, Mr. Stark softens and gives him his extra strength pain relievers, and Peter drifts off, but not before devouring the sandwiches he loves and dwelling on the tiny spark of hope Agent Woo offered to him.

Not everyone believes he's a murderer, and for that moment, it’s enough.

[voids-colourful-creations]

What It Means - Ace Attorney Fic

Rating: T Category: Gen Pairings: Nothing romantic, but focusing on the family relationship between Trucy and Phoenix Word Count: 2k Warnings: discussions of abandonment

Trucy explains to Apollo and Athena what it really means to her to have Phoenix as her daddy.

 She looked out the window, her eyes tracing the cars below, reflected in the glass. “Athena,” Trucy said, voice just slightly off, still refusing to look either of them in the eye. “Did Daddy ever tell you the story of how I got adopted?”

Read on Ao3

It was a quiet day at the Wright Anything Agency, most were, and Phoenix had stepped out to grab some case file or another. It was in that little time frame, a short break while he was gone, that Apollo got around to asking a question that had been on his mind for a while.

He sat on the couch that faced Phoenix’s desk, opposite Athena and Trucy on the other. Athena sat on the right, and while she insisted she was doing work, Apollo could clearly see her playing some idle game or another on her holographic screens. He wondered how she ever thought she was hiding it when the screens were translucent.

Trucy sat on the other side of the couch, legs dangling over the couch’s arms as she shuffled up a pack of playing cards she was rehearsing some new trick with. He wasn’t quite sure of the details, but as long as it didn’t risk him losing a limb, he figured it probably wasn’t important. Trucy would probably ask him to watch the trick’s successful execution within the next few days or so anyway.

“Hey Trucy…” Apollo said, voice cutting through the comfortable silence, disturbing the ease. “Sorry if this is a weird question, it’s probably coming out of nowhere, I’ve just been wondering for a while…”

He trailed off, but Trucy was already responding.

“Sure, Polly, go for it! But if it’s about any of my magic tricks, those are secrets! I can’t tell you any of those, you should know that by now!”

She laughed and shook a finger at him, as though he were a misbehaving kid. While she was clearly having fun, Athena appearing amused as well, Apollo kept a serious expression on his face.

“It’s just… this sounds weird, but I’ve always wondered why you call Mr. Wright ‘daddy’.”

He hated how awkward it sounded, but how on earth was he supposed to ask that naturally?

Trucy just laughed again.

“Well I’m not going to call him ‘Mr. Wright’ like you and Athena do! He’s your boss, not mine, Polly! Or did you forget?”

She laughed and winked, and Athena laughed along as well.

“Come on, Apollo,” Athena chimed in, “What kind of question is that supposed to be?”

Apollo frowned, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, cut it out. That’s not what I meant. It’s just… Isn’t that a childish thing to call your dad? I mean, you’re sixteen, I thought you would’ve grown out of it by now or something.”

Athena shot Apollo a glare, sans malice, as she waved her screens away.

“Don’t listen to him, Trucy! You’re still young, call your dad whatever you want!”

Apollo would’ve stuck his tongue out at Athena but he refused to stoop to such childish things, so he settled for glaring at her instead.

“Geez, chill Athena! I’m just telling the truth, it’s not like it’s a bad thing. I’m just wondering. It is kinda childish, you have to admit.”

It was Trucy’s turn to cross her arms now, over her legs as pulled them down and tucked them close to her chest.

“It might be, I guess. Though, I don’t really care, that’s not why I call him that.”

Athena’s eyes widened and Widget lit up yellow.

“Wait, wait, wait. Trucy, you actually have a reason? Huh, and I thought Apollo was just going off on a conspiracy theory.”

“Hey! Give me a little more credit than that!”

Trucy laughed at their antics, but it didn’t go unnoticed by either of the others that it was missing the spark it had previously held.

Apollo started to feel a pang of regret.

“Well, kinda?” She said, holding a smile that was beginning to waver. “I mean I guess I have a reason, but I also sort of don’t? It’s… complicated, I guess.”

Trucy stood, walking past the table and over to the window next to her father’s desk. Apollo and Athena both watched her, unsure of what they should say, if anything.

She looked out the window, her eyes tracing the cars below, reflected in the glass.

“Athena,” Trucy said, voice just slightly off, still facing the window, still refusing to look either of them in the eye. “Did Daddy ever tell you the story of how I got adopted?”

Athena nodded, then remembered Trucy couldn’t see her.

“Yeah, well… a bit? Boss said I didn’t need to know all the details, but he said he adopted you right around the time he lost his badge. He was defending your father, I think, but then he disappeared. I don’t know much more than that.”

Trucy nodded, still looking out the window.

“Yeah… that’s pretty much it. I don’t have to explain to you guys what it feels like… knowing you don’t have parents. No one to look out for you. It was only two weeks, way shorter than what either of you have had to deal with, so I guess I shouldn’t complain, haha…”

Athena bit the edge of her lip, unsure of what to say, but Trucy continued.

“Zak Gramarye, Shadi Enigmar, whatever you want to call him.” She said, waving her hand nonchalantly, “He ran away. Disappeared, really. The only end appropriate for a magician. And it’s not like I even have the right to be upset over it, I helped him do it.”

She said those words as if she was horrified with herself, dropping her hand to grip the edge of the desk, then let out a breath, soft and shuddering slightly.

“He left… and he never came back. But before long… he, my new daddy that is, called me into his office.”

Trucy paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts.

“I remember the look on his face when he told me… ‘no living relatives’. And I remember even clearer… what he looked like when he said would take me in, instead.”

Trucy laughed a little, but it was hollow, empty.

“Did you know it was only supposed to be temporary? Just until ‘daddy came back’. Well… guess who never showed up?”

She raised a hand to her eyes, wiping away tears that neither Apollo or Athena could see.

“And the funny thing is… I should be upset. I am upset… but not in the way I’m supposed to be. Because every time I think about it… Every time I get scared… w-worry that I’ll be all alone… a-again… I remember what Daddy told me.”

She raised her head just a little higher as she spoke, eyes closed as she quoted her memory.

“‘You can call me ‘daddy’, if you’d like. It doesn’t have to be today, or anything.’... That…. is what he said. And I, a foolish child, accepted it the second he said it.”

Trucy lowered her head again.

“He was so willing to just… let me into his family. Just like that. Before he knew about the Gramarye gift, before I had done anything for him but caused him misery. A-and I was pushy and upfront, I wanted him to be my dad right away, and I’d just lost the first. Maybe that makes me a horrible daughter, willing to abandon someone that quick. Maybe I just really wanted him to like me. I leapt at the chance to be someone's daughter again like I was jumping to a life raft off a sinking ship. Maybe… I was scared that someone would leave me behind again. But the thing is… Daddy never did. It was supposed to be temporary, just until Zak Gramarye made his return. And when he never did, Daddy never said a word. He just kept on caring for me, kept on loving me.”

Trucy took a deep breath in, shuddering again, stronger this time. It was sounding more like a sob.

“It’s different for him, I’m sure. But the moment he told me I could call him my daddy is the moment he became mine, to me. The moment he told me he’d be there for me, like a daddy should be. And every moment after that… even if he was busy, even if things were desperate, no matter what.”

Her voice was choked now and Athena knew she was crying, the same tears she knew were stinging Trucy’s eyes beginning to sting her own. The sound of Trucy’s pain pierced her like a knife slashing through her heart.

“He always comes back.”

Trucy’s voice cracked on the final words, and by now Athena had already stood up, closely followed by Apollo.

“I should probably tell him all this someday… but for now it’s just my little secret. Can you promise me you’ll keep it?”

When Trucy finally turned to meet Apollo and Athena’s eyes, she found both of them looking at her with equally teary expressions as her own.

“Of course.”

“Absolutely.”

Trucy smiled, and it was real this time.

Athena opened her arms, and before she could blink, Trucy had hopped off the desk and into her arms, gripping her tight in a hug. Athena held Trucy close, feeling the slight shake of her body as she hugged her securely. It wasn’t long before another set of arms, Apollo’s to be sure, joined in the mix.

They stayed there for a moment, Apollo and Athena holding Trucy, protecting her from anything outside that might harm her, though of course, nothing was there.

And then, as soon as it had begun, Trucy let go, and the hold gently dissolved.

“I’m alright, I really am. I’m still scared, sometimes. But I know Daddy will be there for me. And you’ll be there for me too… I hope.”

“Of course we will!” Athena cried out, and it took her a moment to realize that Widget had called out the same thing.

“Athena’s right. Widget too. We’re here for you, Trucy,” Apollo added. His voice was more stable than either of the girls, but he couldn’t hide the slight tremor in it from Athena.

“Thank you. Both of you,” Trucy said.

And as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand once more, Phoenix stepped back inside the office, files in tow.

“Hey gang, I’m back!” He called, smile dropping as his gaze landed on his daughter scrubbing the tear tracks off of her cheeks.

“Trucy! Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

He rushed forward, eyes scanning over Trucy’s body for any signs of physical injury.

“Nothing! Everything’s fine, Daddy!”

There were still tears at the corners of his daughter's eyes as she looked up to her father’s concerned face with a smile. He reached down, opening his arms to allow Trucy to hug him, which she gladly did.

“Are you sure?” Phoenix continued, shooting a worried glance at his employees over Trucy’s shoulder. “Apollo, Athena? Should I be worried?”

Athena shook her head.

“All good here, boss!”

Apollo twisted his bracelet around his wrist as he spoke.

“Nothing to be worried about.”

It was their words that allowed Phoenix to relax.

“Well if Apollo says it’s nothing to be worried over, then I’m sure it’s all fine,” He said, the teasing in his tone reassuring the others in turn.

He straightened as Trucy let go, smiling as he went.

“Alright then, is everyone good to get back to work?”

Athena pumped a fist, Trucy grinned, and Apollo crossed his arms over his chest with a smile.

That was answer enough for Phoenix.

“Great. Let’s get back to it!”

And back into the quiet sort of comfortable the office had previously been in they slipped.

As Trucy returned to practicing card tricks, Athena glanced at Phoenix, pretending to be tidying her desk as she did.

She couldn’t say for sure if Trucy was right about one thing… if Phoenix really did see his Trucy as a daughter later in their relationship rather than sooner. But as she watched him pull the locket out of his pocket to look at the picture inside, she was confident Trucy had been right about the other.

He would always come back for her.

[end]

[leobashi]

I’m thinking about two small scenarios of some universe or universes but I swear I haven’t forgotten about my other AUs. I just really wanted some good angst and feelies between the boys. These could probably just be touched up and become one shots really, because idk if I’m gonna be expanding the universe beyond what’s already written. #1 is AntiAverage and #2 is Marvelseptic. Feel free to use them as inspo with credit

----1----

Anti has attacked Chase in an alley way. Chase is doing more defending than he is attacking. There’s cuts all over his torso, but they’re all shallow slices. He gets knocked to the ground and his hat flies off. He thinks at this point, it’s best if he just gets out of the situation and tries crawling away, but Anti flips him on his back, straddles him, and wraps his hands around his neck.

Chase is taken by surprise and grabs at Anti’s arms. He gasps for air and squints up at Anti. His eyes are a dark green, unusual compared to the bright neon green he was used to seeing all the time. Anti wore a deep frown and his arms were trembling, but strong still. Chase groaned at the weight and tried to speak.

“I... loved... you...” he whispered as best he could. The weight on his neck was lifted, if only for a moment, before coming back down harder.

“And you still do, don’t you?” Anti growled, not really asking, but saying it as if it was a fact. “I love you too, but things have changed. I can’t have you by my side anymore.”

Tears suddenly sprang to Chase’s eyes, but he wasn’t sad. No, he was angry. He clawed and scratched at Anti’s arms, struggling for a breath and for an answer. “Why?” he thought. “Why? Why? Why did you leave me? Why can’t we be together if you still love me? Why can’t you have me here with you? What has changed? What did I do wrong?” But all those thoughts were left unsaid.

Instead, Chase started seeing spots in his vision as his air started to run out. He felt Anti leaning down further and press a kiss to his head. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” he chanted against him before Chase stopped his struggling and passed out underneath his former lover.

In this universe, Chase and Anti were once dating, but something triggered Anti to change suddenly. Out of the blue, Anti broke up with Chase and disappeared. He returned, months later, in a fight with the town superhero, JackieBoyMan. Not once had Anti ever acted like that when they were together. He tries to reach out to Anti during these fights and finds himself getting seriously hurt and targeted. Anti does this in hopes of getting Jackie to become more protective of Chase and keep him out of the way. It works when Chase finds himself waking up in Jackie’s apartment after the alley encounter. Chase is conflicted and confused. He debates on telling Jackie the truth about his relationship with Anti, but wondering if there is something bigger that is happening that he shouldn’t be meddling with and worried about Jackie’s reaction.

----2----

The other idea is based off of the lyrics of Donut Hole by Gumi. It was suggested to me on instagram.

Jackie is in a constant war with Anti. He follows the demon around trying to defeat him and bring him to justice. But there is a gap in his memory. He knows that during this gap, Anti had gained a silent sidekick. He knows this sidekick only as the Magician.

The Magician wears a cat mask and follows Anti around, aiding in his plans. Rarely does the Magician join in to fight him whenever they get into an encounter, but Jackie saw what he could do. His magic roared red and has brought terror among so many.

During one of his travels as he was following Anti’s trail, he meets another wizard who managed to detect a strong and well hidden memory spell. It turns out the gap in his memory was magically induced. The wizard offers to help him remove it and Jackie says yes.

He regains his memory slowly, but the one recurring thing he sees is the Magician. But he isn’t with Anti? These memories feel happy and makes his heart swell. He also sees the Magician without his mask and he does his best to see the face behind it, but he just can’t remember. It consumes his thoughts and he becomes distracted.

The next time he encounters Anti, he tries his best to focus on the fighting, but suddenly, when he sees the Magician standing back and waiting for the fight to be over, he slips and gets knocked to the ground. Tired and confused, Jackie stays on the ground and lets a new memory wash over him.

He and the Magician were sharing tender moments together. They were choosing out earrings for each other, they were sharing food, they were sharing the same bed. They were both smiling and bathing in each other’s presence.

He comes back from the memories when Anti places his boot on his chest. “Ready to give in hero?” Jackie groans, but he is focused on the Magician. He turns to him and shouts at him.

“Who are you!? What did you do to my memory!?” The Magician is taken aback and for the first time, Jackie hears him speak.

“Anti, we need to leave.” Jackie is surprised at how soft his voice is. It sounds so familiar to him, but why? He wants to hear more.

But instead, he hears Anti laugh above him. “Afraid for your little hero? Don’t worry.” Anti digs his heel deeper into his chest. “I guess this is a special case. I won’t beat him up too much today.” Anti backed off and quickly glitched away to his sidekick. Jackie sat up just in time to see the Magician’s eyes locked onto him from behind the mask and the two disappear.

Somehow, in a different part of the story, the two are together, alone, and fighting. The Magician is doing his best to keep Jackie down and escape, but Jackie is desperate for answers. The Magician refuses to hurt him though, he seems to be holding back.

Jackie manages to get a good hit on the Magician and knock his mask off. Immediately, the Magician takes multiple steps back and covers his face with his hands. Through his fingers, Jackie can see his eyes, bright purple with wisps of pink. Jackie felt his breath catch in his throat.

He remembers a scream, a shield of pink, and a cry. His own cry. He remembers feeling pain, and he remembers those eyes staring into his own with tears threatening to fall.

He clutches his head, conflicted between the memories and the present. Who was this Magician? How did they know each other? Why does he care so deeply for him?

Jackie takes a moment to calm down before looking back up again. The Magician is breathing hard and hunched over himself, trying to avoid eye contact and covering his face with his hair. He uses this to his advantage. “I remember you. I remember that you liked vanilla cake and strawberries. I remember I helped you choose those star earrings. I remember that night we danced together for the first time.”

The Magician started shaking his head, chanting underneath his breath, “No. No. No. No. No.”

Jackie took a step closer to him. “I remember when you took me to the beach for my birthday.”

“Shut up.”

He took another step. “I remember watching the stars with you.”

“Shut up.”

The memories became clearer with every step he took. “I remember when we confessed our feelings to each other.”

“Shut up!”

It tore his heart apart, remembering more and more. “I remember loving you.”

“Shut up!” The Magician was trembling and his red magic looked almost pink, whirling around the figure, but avoiding Jackie.

“But I can’t remember your face. I can’t remember your name. And it’s tearing me apart. Who are you? Please. Can I see you?” He takes another step closer and he’s right in front of the Magician, who’s sobbing. Jackie reaches to pull his hands away from his face, but suddenly, he’s thrown back by red wisps. He lands on his back and feels himself being straddled.

The Magician planted his hands on either side of Jackie’s head and screamed at him, tears spilling over and falling on Jackie’s face. “I loved you! I still do! But this is for your own good! This is so hard for me Jackie! I made a deal I can’t go back on now! I can’t have a world where you don’t exist!”

But none of it reached Jackie. He was staring at the Magician’s face, taking in every detail as if it was new, but it felt so familiar to him. The only new feature was the four pink jagged lines running through the Magician’s left eye.

And the name spilled from mouth. “Marvin,” he whispered. The Magician stopped and looked down at him in surprise.

“N-no. You’re not supposed to remember...” he spoke, voice trembling. He sat up and started shaking all over. “You can’t do this! I can’t be letting this happe-”

Jackie cut him off, pulling him by his collar and kissing him. It felt new, but it also felt like coming home. He stared into the Magician’s eyes, wide open in surprise. He remembered him, all of him, and what they were, what they shared between them.

“Marvin. Your name. It’s Marvin,” he spoke into his lips.

----

Idk how to end this, but in this universe, Jackie and Anti are enemies. Jackie pursues Anti, trying to stop him and his spread of chaos. But one year, he meets Marvin and falls in love. When they are attacked by Anti, Jackie gets fatally injured despite Marvin doing his best to protect him. He begs Anti to save him, unable to live without Jackie in his world. He makes a deal with Anti, Jackie will be saved and Anti will not kill him in any of their battles as long as Jackie does not come close to killing him and Marvin will become his servant. Marvin, desperate, but also aware that Anti may use him against Jackie, agrees, but erases Jackie’s memory of him. He hopes that Jackie may be able to defeat Anti one day and maybe then, they can be together again.

I imagine that after this encounter where Jackie remembers everything, Marvin still runs back to Anti, leaving Jackie behind. He was, and continues working on the memory spell, a stronger one, so that he can ensure that Jackie will never remember meeting him. He doesn’t want to risk Jackie’s life, knowing that Jackie will now be more reckless and push himself farther after remembering who Marvin is. And he’s right. Jackie fights harder and pursues them fervently, now wanting to know why Marvin is working for Anti unwillingly.

[writehardwhumpharder]

Drugging Carson for fun - Carson series

(I decided to just start using the titles for works that I put on my notes lol)

Also on Ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/27982710

Carson stared at the small vial on the table in front of him, "you're kidding, right?"

Riley's expression didn't change, "it only works on magicians."

"Still I'm not gonna drink some un-tested, maybe poisonous material just for you to 'see what happens'," Carson said, pushing the vial away defiantly. Morris folded his hands over his desk in thought. "Are you really on board with this?" He asked him.

"Look, Carson, it is proven to be completely safe and could be a major help to the case. The longer this goes unsolved, the more people die." Morris said.

"Or, it could be a major waste of time. I've done the whole psychic vision thing and it sucks." Carson said, crossing his arms. He was starting to get the feeling they were taking advantage of his lack of self-preservation instincts. Some small part of him saw the vial of mystery drugs as a sort of challenge, but he's trying not to let that part get the better of him.

"We'll compensate you well if you do this," Riley interjected from where she sat perched on the arm of Morris's couch.

"I've got money. Pass."

Riley and Morris still didn't appear to be giving up. They really thought that this little stunt would somehow help them solve the case, that's just how desperate they'd gotten. "Carson, I know it'll be unpleasant but you'll be absolutely fine and it could be really helpful." Said Riley. She was using that coercive voice that always rubbed Carson the wrong way.

Finally, he sighed and gave up a little bit of his resolve, "Fine, tell me more about it and I'll think about it."

Riley launched into an explanation,"Ok so we've seized samples of this drug at four different locations now where gangs of magic-users," Carson cleared his throat purposefully, "gangs of magicians are known to operate. A few officers have given detailed reports of magicians they've encountered while using the drug. We're not sure yet if it's recreational or if it poses some kind of advantage. We're hoping to figure that out. If magicians can use this substance to strengthen themselves and become more dangerous, we need to know."

"Or it could be some dumb party drug that plays with senses only magicians have," Carson suggested.

"Such as?"

"Magical energy is visible to us if we use our senses properly. It's always there but if you really look you can see each grain of energy. They're colorful, kind of tingles a bit if you touch it. I'm not sure exactly what other people see because I'm different. I see people's souls, their life energy, and the traces of it they leave behind. You can also kind of use it to spot magicians because magic will cling to them, unlike regular people."

"Hmm, if what you say is true..."

"Which it is," Carson interjected.

"...Then it could potentially be used as an advantage. We won't really know though until we have more data." Morris said.

Carson sighed and rubbed at his face, "I still don't like the sound of this. I'm not doing it."

"Umm," Riley said.

"What?"

"It's a little late for that."

Carson's eyes widened in anger, "what the fuck did you do?!"

"I had a feeling it would be hard to convince you so I might have just put a few drops into your coffee when you came in. Just a few drops, it probably won't even have an effect."

"And you let her do that?" He turned to the man sitting across from him.

Morris practically growled at her, "You'll have to excuse my junior detective. She gets a little ahead of herself," he said through clenched teeth.

"No, no, no...I didn't sign up for this," Carson gripped the arms of his chair like he was afraid it might just up and fly away.

"Riley, close the blinds please," he told her. She hopped up from the couch immediately and covered the window of his office, blocking it off from the rest of the station. "Maybe you should make yourself comfortable on the couch." He offered.

Carson eyed the leather couch longingly, "how could I possibly do that if I don't have legs?"

Morris blinked, "you what?"

"What?" Carson repeated cluelessly.

"Nevermind." He sighed then picked up a notepad off his desk, angrily scribbling something down. "There, just so I don't forget." He said with fake cheer as he slapped it onto his computer screen. Fire Officer Miller.

"Hey!" she protested.

Morris shot her a positively murderous glare which shut her up right away. "Help me with him."

Stepping around his desk, he approached Carson calmly and carefully. He tapped Carson's pant leg. "Feel that?"

"Yeah," Carson answered. "That's your left leg." He informed him. Carson's eyes widened in surprise as Morris proceeded to tap his other leg. "And that?"

"Mhmm."

"That's your right leg." Carson wiggled his toes experimentally as if he didn't entirely believe him.

"Doesn't that couch look comfortable? Wouldn't you rather sit there?" He asked slowly. Carson seemed to think about it for a second letting his glazed-over eyes trail across the leather sofa.

"Okay."

Together they got him on his feet and guided him over to the couch so that he was lying across it. Though she didn't express it, the guilt was obvious on Riley's face at what she had done.

"I really thought a couple drops wouldn't do anything..."

"Well, you thought wrong. You better hope he doesn't sue you when he sobers up later." Morris said seriously.

With Carson safely on the couch, they both breathed a sigh of relief and took a step back. He looked mostly okay except for his pupils which seemed a bit off.

"Now what?" She asked.

"Don't look at me. You did this."

Carson lifted one of his arms to swat at the air, smiling as he caught whatever it was that he saw there. "It's always so colorful. I wish I could look at the magic all the time." He mumbled.

"What kind of magic?" Morris asked.

"Hmmm, it's just traces of this or that. A little bit of me, a little bit of you. Time has a way of shedding human souls, bit by bit, until you die."

"Well that's pleasant," he grumbled, leaning back in his desk chair. This really wasn't how he planned to spend his day. Being the lead detective did come with some responsibilities he needed to tend to. In the back of his mind he reaffirmed his decision not to have kids, these two idiots were enough to deal with already. Following that train of thought he grabbed another sticky note and jotted something down about buying more hair dye for the grey hair this would inevitably give him.

Carson was oddly quiet, kind of in his own little world. So far nothing bad had happened. He just laid there looking stoned out of his mind. Half an hour passed before Carson sat up abruptly, looking around the corners of the room for something.

"What's wrong?" Riley asked.

"Pictures," Carson mumbled. "They just..." he grabbed his head in discomfort, "ugh."

"Does it hurt?" Morris asked, sounding concerned.

"It always hurts." A tiny trail of blood dripped down his nose which Riley stopped with a tissue before it could make a mess. Carson shoved her away, taking the tissue to hold for himself. He's had enough nosebleeds that even in this state he had the sense to dab it clean. Riley tried not to look offended as she rubbed at her forearm where he had pushed her. Despite sitting right in front of him, Carson didn't seem to be fully aware that Riley and Morris were even there, choosing instead to stare off into space, occasionally blinking or shaking his head. Riley wondered if this is what it would look like if he had visions while awake, minus the usual seizing.

"Even if he figures something out with this drug, it won't be of any use if he doesn't remember any of this." Morris commented to himself.

"I never forget," Carson responded, surprising them both when he suddenly acknowledged that they were there. There was a spark of lucidity in his eyes as he looked between them. It didn't last long though…

"How long does this usually last?" Asked Riley.

"It's barely been an hour, don't tell me you're bored already." He clipped, still irritated that she would go behind his back to do something as reckless as this. "Could last all day, we don't know much about it."

"All day?" Carson whimpered as he brought his legs up onto the couch so that he could curl into a little ball.

"It'll probably get worse too." Morris deadpanned. A small sound of fear escaped him as he started to twitch with nerves. They hadn't given much thought to how this drug might affect him differently than other magicians. While it might give them more raw power to fight with, his powers were more mental, more unique. The drug seemed to have more of an effect on his psychic abilities. Honestly, it was terrifying, there was no telling what might happen. Carson tried to keep it together and stay calm but it was a struggle just to sort out what was real. His vision was clouded by magic that swirled around the room, thrumming with life. That part wasn't so bad... It was the flashes, disorganized chaos of faces and memories and facts.

A steady hum rose in his ears like the chattering of a hundred voices. If he concentrated on picking out a singular voice he could catch little phrases. Just mundane thoughts like "I'm gonna be late to lunch", or "Maybe I should have brought a jacket today."

He looked straight ahead at Riley. "Why do his eyes look like that? Fuck, I'm in so much trouble. How was I supposed to know how potent this shit was? Maybe it's stronger because he's such a lightweight."

Carson wanted to refute that last part but it was true. No point in denying it. He turned his head to Morris who was attempting to get some paperwork done. "What am I gonna do with her? If she takes risks like that in the field someone could get seriously hurt. Maybe if someone slipped her some LSD she'd think twice about these things. Ah geez, now he's looking at me. Can he even see me?"

"I can see you," Carson said quietly.

Morris froze, not immediately making the connection that he was answering a question out loud that he had asked in his head. It sounded like just another disassociated comment. "What?"

"Just... I can see you." He clarified.

"Okay," said Riley, looking confused. "What's going on in there?" She asked.

"Lots of things. Lots of voices. Nothing very important. Not about..." Carson trailed off, forgetting why he even took the drug in the first place, "not about the case," he said finally.

"Like what?"

"The reception lady is wondering if she has time to go to her favorite sandwich place on her lunch break. And the guy at the desk is wondering if her tits are real."

"Wow, alright. Let's try to filter some of that out." Morris suggested.

"It seems like the drug really can amplify a person's magic. I mean, you can't read minds all the time right...?" Riley asked.

Carson abruptly stopped shaking his knee and looked at her, "Isn't this dangerous? I mean, who knows what could happen?" He asked. She shrugged, unable to answer either of those questions. They were really in the dark here. Riley felt a pang of sympathy. He seemed so out of it. She really thought that it wouldn't do anything in such a small amount. She watched as the blood suddenly drained from his face. It was scary how fast his skin turned white, even pulling any color he had in his lips. "What if He comes?" He asked suddenly. His tone was sincere, not scared, but concerned. He was actually glad that Morris knew about his secret in that moment.

"He's not going to come here. I'm sure He has more important things to do right? It's silly to worry about it," he said comfortingly. The logic was sound, but Carson was still paralyzed with fear.

"But what if I summon Him accidentally? I might not be able to control it," he said.

Morris was really getting nervous now. Carson was a bomb that could blow at any time. He had a feeling that there was much, much more to his magic than any of them knew. Suddenly jumping back, Carson went a shade paler, resembling more of a corpse now than a human. He shrank into the corner of the sofa. "...Do you see it?" His voice was barely audible. They both whipped their heads in the direction that Carson was looking. At first, it appeared empty, but there was something unsettling about it. Something you feel rather than see. After a few moments, they realized what they were looking at. The shadow in the corner was moving. It swirled and grew, and traveled like smoke. There was darkness there. More than there should be.

"O-Oh my god..." Riley stuttered. She fell back into the chair in front of Morris's desk. Morris perked up in his seat and leaned in toward Carson, time for damage control. His instincts told him that he needed to calm him down and fast. "Carson, look at me, there is nothing there. You are in control of what you do. I know you are scared right now. Just take a deep breath, I think I know something that could help."

Carson's eyes softened slightly, "what is it?" He was eager to put hope into whatever Morris was suggesting.

The older man turned in his chair and opened the lower-most drawer in his cabinet. In it was a half-empty bottle of whiskey and under that, a neatly folded blanket. He pulled out the blanket and closed the drawer. "Here, it's clean." He spread it over Carson. The change was immediate. He let his head fall back into the couch and pulled the blanket up to his face. He was right, it was clean. He could smell the laundry detergent on it, it smelled kind of like the brand Daniel uses. Riley and Morris both discreetly glanced into the corner to find that it had settled down. Morris sighed with relief. "That's better, isn't it?" He asked Carson, who didn't respond at first but ended up giving a tiny nod. Despite being calmer he was still pale and visibly shaking. "Rest for a while. I'm going to try to get a little paperwork done."

To their surprise, Carson agreed easily, closing his eyes. It made him feel like everything was normal and he could just take a nap. It wouldn't take long though before Carson would regret falling asleep…

Since Carson seemed to doze off almost immediately, Riley and Morris assumed they were in the clear. About ten blissful and uneventful minutes later, he stirred.

"Unngghh," he groaned miserably.

"What?" Riley turned to him but he was still asleep. He looked uncomfortable, in pain almost. She leaned forward to have a better look at him.

"Just leave him alone," Morris told her.

"What do you think he's thinking about right now?" Riley asked him curiously.

"Jesus Riley, where is your common sense? Look at him, you want to know what's going on in his head? I can almost guarantee it would scar your naive, little mind for the rest of your life." He was angry. She shrunk under his gaze. Now that Carson was asleep it was as good a time as any to start discussing her punishment. He peeled one of the sticky notes off his computer screen, the one that said Fire Officer Miller. He set it down so Riley could see it.

"You're not really going to fire me, are you?" She asked.

"I could. I have every reason to. The forms are right here actually," he pulled a folder out of one of his desk drawers threateningly. "Please don't... The reports said that magicians usually took a whole vial at once. Three drops are next to nothing," she reasoned. "If I didn't do this he might have taken the whole thing, then what would have happened?"

Damn her, she had a point. Without this little experiment of hers, they would have assumed he should try to normal dosage, and judging by the effect it has had on Carson so far, a whole vial could be catastrophic. Morris paled visibly, "I'd really like to make it through the day without having to evacuate the entire block."

He tapped the edge of the folder on his desk, lost in thought although Riley assumed he was still trying to send her a message. "Please don't fire me, it won't happen again."

"Damn right it won't. I'm thinking... three weeks suspension should be enough time for you to think about your actions. Unpaid. And I want a one-page essay on how you can be a better detective, every day until the suspension is over." Morris said.

Riley frowned, "You want 21 one page essays?"

"Did I say one page? I meant three."

Riley pulled at her hair in frustration, "Fine, fine. I'll do it. But what about the upcoming field test next week? Can I still take that? The next chance to do it would be three months from now..."

"Oh darn, guess you'll have to wait," Morris said with absolutely no sympathy for her. Riley knew better than to keep begging him. He'd just tack on more and more to her suspension if she continued to protest. "Over 60 pages of writing, that's twice as long as my thesis paper," she mumbled to herself quietly.

"If you don't want to do it, you could always quit. I have forms for that too," he told her.

"Aren't you being too mean?" She whined.

Morris groaned internally. Riley tested every last shred of patience he had on a daily basis but in some twisted way, each mistake she made just made him want to help her more. He sighed, "It's my job to train you to be a detective. If you're not ready for that responsibility, then you're not ready, end of story." Carson continued to stir every minute or so but he still looked more comfortable than he did when he was awake.

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

He found himself in the middle of a dream. As was typical of dreams, his surroundings didn't quite make sense and he seemed to fall into it at a completely random point with no idea how it all started. He sat up, realizing he was still on the couch in Morris's office only, it wasn't Morris's office. It wasn't even the same couch. This one was a beige tweed fabric, a stark contrast to the neat, leather sofa Morris had. Carson planted his feet on the floor noticing that that was different too. Most of the station had replaced all carpeting with tiles but here the floor was covered with a very dark green carpet that looked like it belonged in a movie theater.

A chill ran down his spine as he exited the small office, stepping into the open station. It was quieter than he'd ever seen it. Every single desk was empty and only half the lights were on. They seemed to be leading him somewhere. Carson walked through the dimly lit section of the station that took him towards the hallway that the break room was in. The whole place looked unsettling but Carson wasn't scared. He had that disassociated feeling that came with dreams, reassuring him that nothing he was seeing was real.

Carson walked slowly, he peered into some of the rooms in the hallway but they were all dark so he moved on from them. An overhead light flickered to life, illuminating a sign that said "Interrogation rooms" Carson had been down this hallway once before but everything was subtly different. For example, he didn't remember there being a door at the very end of the hallway. A distant memory provided him with the image of a potted plant, maybe a drinking fountain there, but not a door. And surely it was no coincidence that that was the only one with a strip of light shining out from underneath. He proceeded to the interrogation room, not once questioning what might be inside. As soon as he opened the door and crossed the threshold the light in the room got brighter, blinding him for a moment. When he blinked his vision clear he had magically jumped from the doorway to the table where he sat, handcuffed to one side, with a strange man sitting at the other.

"Sure took you long enough to get here, Carson," he said. His voice was deep and raspy. The man wore a police uniform but something told him he wasn’t a cop.

"How do you know my name?" Carson asked.

"I've been waiting for you to join me for a very long time."

Fear pulsed through Carson's veins at the sound of his voice. Every word out of the man's mouth felt like a wet tongue gliding over his ear. He wanted to brush it away but his hands were cuffed to the table. Which was also something that couldn’t be a coincidence.

"What side are you on?" Carson asked weakly.

"Yours, of course." The man smiled, flashing a set of yellowed teeth.

Carson shivered and squirmed in his seat. The light above them flickered and he swore he saw the man tense.  He started talking again, more urgently now. "All I want is for our people to be free. Don't you want that, Carson? Don't you want to be able to use your magic in any way you please? Is that not our right?" He bombarded him with questions. The light flickered again. He was running out of time.

"Promise me that when the time comes, you'll be on our side. Promise me!" He stood up, showing his full height. Carson cringed, seeing he was well over 6ft tall. There was something very wrong and twisted about that image. It looked like his spine had been stretched out to an inhuman length and as he leaned over the table, his arms stretched out as well, curling like tentacles. At some point this dream had become a nightmare and Carson wasn’t even sure when. Hands came to wind around his neck, squeezing his windpipe like a snake constricting its prey. Carson kicked and thrashed, trying to free his hands but it was no use. The strength was too much to overcome. He knew that immediately. 'I'm going to die, I'm really going to die like this... His mind repeated as his body struggled. Then suddenly the light went out and the room was filled with darkness. Carson felt a cold rush of air as the pressure finally eased up on his throat. He knew this darkness of course, it was Death. He should have been scared yet he felt so, so relieved by its presence.

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

Carson gasped, his eyes snapping open. At first, he had no idea where he was. His vision was swimming and there were hands on him, belonging to more than one person. When his vision cleared he could make out Riley and Morris hovering over him. They breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh god," Morris breathed, "if we didn't get your hands away you would have killed yourself."

Carson coughed harshly, turning away from them slightly. "What... what are you talking about?" He rubbed at his sore neck, making Morris flinch, thinking he might start choking again.

"One second you were asleep, the next you were strangling yourself. I was about to call in more officers to come hold you down because you wouldn't let go." Morris explained.

"Why would I do that?"

"You tell me."

"There was a man, he was… I woke up in your office, except it wasn’t your office and…” Carson said, not making any sense. He started to sit up, slowly piecing things together. Without any warning he threw himself onto the floor, scratching at the carpet, "it was green. I swear it was."

"What was green? The carpet?" Riley asked.

"Yeah, dark green."

"Might have been back when I first started working here about 20 years ago." Morris added. If that detail of the dream was real, what else was? Carson stood up and walked out of the office before either of them could stop him. Carson ignored everyone else as he retraced his steps. He headed straight for the interrogation rooms. Riley practically had to run to catch up with him. She bumped into another officer on her way, barely mumbling an apology as she continued after Carson who she found standing where the hallway forked, leading to other rooms and offices.

"What the hell are you looking for?" She asked.

"It was right there," he pointed at the blank wall at the end of the hallway. His memory had been spot on in that there really were a couple of potted plants and a drinking fountain there. Certainly no door. "What does it mean? It was right there."

"Come on, let's go back," she pulled on his arm to urge him to follow her but to her surprise, Carson fell straight into her.

"Oof," she nearly lost her balance but managed to get one of his arms over her shoulder so she could haul him back to Morris's office. Riley locked the door behind them.

"Well?" Morris asked.

"I think he's lost his mind," she said breathing heavily.

"Maybe not. I called Janice and she emailed me this picture of the station in the late ‘90s."

Riley walked around his desk to get a look at the computer. "That's green alright."

Carson sank back into the couch shakily. Adrenaline had cleared his mind for a moment but as his heart rate went down, the hazy effects of the drug returned. He couldn't get those images out of his head. Who was that? How did he know him? Carson tipped over onto his side and squeezed his eyes shut. He felt like he was on a psychic carousel that never stopped spinning. The input going through his head varied from being debilitating to being more of an itch in his mind that he couldn't scratch. If he tuned into it and really listened, it was still there, all the voices and thoughts and memories of everyone nearby. All he could do now was pray that they would go away after the drug wore off.

[yanderewhims]

ohhhh this blog seems interesting! So I have a good idea for Hakubabe! So yandere!hakuryuu has a fem!so during the civil war (either his wife, or lover it doesn't matter) and she finds out she's pregnant with his baby, but since he had fallen in depravity and was being all dark, she felt like it wasn't a safe enviroment to have her child in so she tries to run away- then maybe Judal is able to sense it and tells Hakuryuu, so he ends up catching her? HCS/ or scenario is fine!

Judar you fucking snitch

this was so much fun to write guys, omg

tw: yandere, abuse, implied non-con, manipulation, abusive relationships

word count: 2.9k

The halls of the palace were dark— with only the dim light of the oil lantern she held in her hand to guide her way, [Name] keeps her footsteps as quiet as possible, careful not to make a sound. She didn’t want to alert the guards that patrolled the area at night. If they caught her outside of ‘her’ chambers at night again—well, his chambers, though he had tried many times to insist that it was their chambers now, ever since they had been married—and reported back to the emperor…she knew her ‘beloved’ husband would be far from pleased. 

And the punishment she would receive would not be pleasant at all.

She knew she was taking a huge risk— attempting to escape from him again, trying to free herself from his suffocating, possessive grip—but she had to get out of there. Because this time, it wasn’t about her sanity or life being on the line.

It was about the new life that was growing inside of her.

When she first found out she was carrying the newly crowned fourth emperor’s child, she had cried. She had cried and cried until there were no tears left; as soon as the words left the magician’s mouth, she had dismissed her maids from the room with after making them swear not to tell not one soul — especially the emperor— any word of what was discovered, wanting, needing so desperately to be alone. She had spent time pacing around, sobbing and nearly pulling her hair from her scalp, trying to place her thoughts together in her moment of panic.

No. Nononononono—this wasn’t supposed to happen, it had to be some grave mistake, she had thought. She couldn’t be pregnant–not now, not with his child! She couldn’t be, she couldn’t do this…

Not after what he had done to her. 

Though their wedding had been a grand and spontaneous ceremony, with her being forced to wear the mask of a dutiful, loving and happy bride, on the inside she was anything but that. She wanted to run far, far away from Kou, away from this war, away from him and his depravity, and have a taste of the freedom and she had been denied. And she was going to do so that night, when all was said and done.

But he had other plans.

That night, just as she was plotting her escape after freeing herself from her ceremonial wedding robes, he had called for her to come to his chambers, not to wish her goodnight and sweet dreams— but to consummate their marriage.

And what kind of wife would she be if she denied her husband and king his husbandly rights?

A terrible one, for sure— but it’s not like she cared about that, none of this had been her choice anyway.

She had refused him; that had been her first mistake. 

Because no matter how much she refused, how many times she said ‘no’, he didn’t listen. No matter how she pleaded and begged him not to do what he had done, he still took what he wanted anyways. 

Even though he had been gentle, even though he repeatedly told her how much he 'loved’ her, it didn’t make things less horrific for her. She knew this wasn’t out of love, but out of his sick desire to claim her as his own. And now she was truly his, not just in name, but in body as well.

She had felt disgusted with herself and at that point she knew, she had to escape him, no matter what. It had all been too much; at first the possessiveness, the need he had for her to always be by his side at all times, the jealousy, the refusal to allow her near any other man he saw as a threat, how the guard she had befriended mysteriously ended up missing only to be found dead days later, and now this— she had to leave.

Of course all attempts to escape had ended up in failure, with him catching her and dragging her back to Kou kicking and screaming, where he would deliver harsh punishment that was sure to keep her in check.

She had began to grow tired, with each failure. The deeper he fell into madness and depravity,  the more her spirit became broken, the will slowly drained from her. This was her fate, to be stuck within the smothering grasp of Hakuryuu Ren. And she began to accept it…that is, until she discovered she was with child. 

For some odd reason, be it cruel irony,  immediately, despite the way he had been conceived, she had begun to love her child, already forming that maternal instinct to protect him. And because of that, it had led to her where she currently was that moment—on her way to leave Kou for good.

She could not bring a child into such a broken country, torn by violence and war. Hakuryuu had split the country into two the moment he killed Ren Gyokuen and demanded the head of Ren Kouen, and with that depraved fallen magi at his side, the situation was bound to worsen.

Her child deserved better—he deserved to grow up happy and safe under a stable home, without the fear of war and terror. And she would do what she had to do in order to give that life to him.

Even if it meant risking her life, going against her mad husband. 

And this time, nothing would stop her. Nothing at all—

“Well,well, look who’s out wandering about so late! Does Hakuryuu know that his precious wife is out of her room without his permission again?” The moment the sly, taunting voice reached her ears, [name] felt irritation trickle at her insides, inwardly cursing. Why? Why of all people did it have to be him? At this very moment?

Taking a deep breath, the empress slowly turns to face the dark magi, who stood in the dark of the halls, toned arms on his slender hips, staring down at her with a wicked smirk across his face.

“Judar,” she spoke coldly, not bothering to hide her disdain for the man. “To whom do I owe the displeasure?”

Faking a dramatic gasp, the magi places a hand on his chest, mockingly looking offended. “Well, that’s not very nice of you to speak to me that way! Most people would be honored to be in my presence! And I came over here to see you after all!”

“If you came for the purpose of pestering me, then I’m afraid your presence is not wanted at all.”

“How rude! Honestly, I just don’t understand why Hakuryuu is so obsessed with you. Well… perhaps I can understand one thing.” At that comment, he shamelessly eyes her form up and down with a rather perverse grin, and [name] can’t hide the look of utter disgust that crosses her face.

 "Anyways, I’m bored. And since our beloved emperor is just too busy with all that emperor bullshit, I decided I’d pay my favorite little empress a visit! It’s not like you’d be busy or anything. I mean, Hakuryuu never lets you out your room without his supervision anyways!“ He lets out a cackle, a sound sickening to her stomach. “And that’s when I noticed you weren’t in your room…” He trailed off.

He steps closer, suspicion apparent in his crimson gaze. “Now—what are you doing out so late? Trying to escape again? Are you that dumb or have you not learned your lesson from the last time you tried?”

His question didn’t come out of a place of concern or even curiosity, no, not Judar. Being the twisted individual he is and enjoying other people’s suffering, he did it out of a place of amusement. He was fully aware of what Hakuryuu had done to her in the past, of what he would do to her should he catch her trying to escape him again, knowing of the pain he would cause her.

And it made him gleeful. 

She tries to keep her stare steady, because she can’t lose her resolve now, not when she’s so close. “I am simply going out for fresh air in the gardens, not that it is any of your concern.”

“Dressed like that? With a bag?“ 

Shit. She hadn’t done a very good job of making it less obvious, with the satchel she had packed full of money and extra clothes showing through her dark cloak. But she had to make haste and get out of the palace and quickly as possible. She didn’t pay that detail to mind, and now it would possibly jeopardize her plan.

"Is there a certain way an empress must dress for a simple walk in the garden?”

“There is if she wants to make what she’s planning to do less obvious, idiot.” Judar began to laugh, and if it got any louder he would wake the entirety of Rakushou. “Ah, so you are trying to run away again, ahahaha! You really are fucking dumb! Oh, that’s just rich! Wait til’ I tell Hakuryuu, boy is he gonna be pis—” He suddenly paused as if something had hit him. Narrowing his eyes, Judar tilts his head, closely observing the shaking woman as if he had noticed something odd.

“Huh…the rukh around you is acting really strange for some reason …”

It’s only a few seconds of silence before he speaks again, but to the ever anxious [name], who wanted nothing more than to turn and run straight to the palace doors and out, it’s a long, grueling eternity. 

“No way…” his eyes widened with shock, mouth dropping open. “...you’re pregnant? With Hakuryuu’s brat?" 

Nonononononono—

Her heart pounding with fear, tears forming in her eyes. Filled with nothing but terror, the empress backs away slowly as the magi’s shocked expression morphs into that of glee. 

"Holy shit, you are pregnant! And you were also trying to escape with Hakuryuu’s kid! Ha!” Adrenaline suddenly overtakes her as she suddenly turns and takes off running down the hall as fast her feet will allow her, trying to shut out the sound of Judar’s maniacal laughter from behind her. “Man, he is going to be so pissed! He might actually kill you this time! HEY HAKURYUU, YOU’LL NEVER GUESS WHAT I JUST FOUND OUT ABOUT YOUR PRECIOUS WIFE— ”

She doesn’t pay mind to that, and she doesn’t pay mind the servants and guards who cry out in alarm as their empress rushes past them. The doors are right there,  so close and in her reach, just a few steps and she—

The fresh air hits her like a wave crashing against the sandy shore. It’s freezing cold, but it feels so good! And as much as she wishes she could sit there and enjoy the night breeze and take in the sight of the beautiful outside world, she didn’t have the time for that.

Rushing to the horse stables [name] mounts her tall, white horse that Hakuryuu had gifted her as a wedding present, and quickly orders it to gallop away, leading it into the deep forests of Kou, becoming masked by the tall trees to where it was difficult for the soldiers that were running after her to keep sight of their empress. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been hours since her escape, and as exhausted, hungry, and anxious as she was, [name] had never felt so relieved in her life.

She was free! Her plan had actually worked for the most part; her last attempt, she didn’t even make it to the outside of the capital before Hakuryuu caught her and dragged her back. But by now, she was far from the capital and had just made it off the border of Kou— where she was going, she wasn’t quite sure, but did know she was going to a place for from the hell that she had been forced to call 'home’. She would find a better one, a new home for her child so she could raise him peacefully. 

She pondered her options as she roasted raw meat over a fire she had built. Maybe she could find and meet up with Aladdin and the others and travel with them again? She hadn’t seen them in so long, she had missed them all quite a bit. Or maybe she can go to Sindria and raise her baby there… It was a prosperous and peaceful country, always jolly and never ravaged by any war. It was the perfect place to live and finally be happy, and she would never have to—

A sudden rustling of the trees around the area she rested startled her from her thoughts. 

Holding her breath, she scanned the area around, looking for the source of that noise. The forest was rather vacant, she had not seen any type of animal in sight, save for a few squirrels running about, here and there. But squirrels couldn’t have made a noise like that. 

Maybe it was just the wind?

Swallowing the bit of anxiety that had stirred, she turns her attention back on her task, but another rustling sound, this one much closer. Then another. And another. 

Then, the echo of a familiar, galloping sound. Horses. The crunching of leaves and twigs.

Footsteps. 

“I see smoke over there! Scout the area!”

Her heart drops in her stomach, and soon she’s scrambling up to put out the fire and gathering her items as quick as possible, nearly stumbling as she hops on the horse and quietly orders it to move, softly treading the opposite direction of the forest to where they couldn’t hear her.

No. They couldn’t possibly have— he couldn’t possibly have found her already. Not when she had gotten so far, so free. She knew her husband was most likely aware of her escape and the fact that she was carrying his child by now and hot on her trail, but he couldn’t have caught up to her exact location so fast, right?

When she was further away out of sight, she ordered her horse to move faster. Faster and faster until she was zooming pass the trees at a speed that was probably too much for the poor thing, the site behind her as she made her way towards the exit of the forest. Close. She was so close, she couldn’t give up now.

Not when she was so close to freedom. 

The horse suddenly began to stop, its quick galloping becoming slow steps, causing [name] great panic. Please, let the gods be on her side this one time!

“No, no, buddy, don’t stop please. You must  keep going, we must keep going!” She does her best to gently encourage the animal, unable to keep the tremor from showing in her voice. “Come on, we’re almost there! Keep going, please keep going!”

But the horse lets out a whine, and comes to a halt, it’s strong legs collapsing beneath itself as it falls to the ground from exhaustion, taking her with it.

[name] wanted to scream.

But she couldn’t unless she wanted to give herself away— there was still time to escape! She just had to travel on foot now, and sadly leave the horse behind. It would be fine.

Yet… had she paid close attention, she would have noticed the thick green vines come to life around the horse, wrapping themselves around him tightly, she would have known to give up by then, as it was now fruitless.

'I’m not going to give up.’ She repeated the words of encouragement to herself as she stood up, brushing herself off. ’I’m not going to give up.' 

'I’m not going to give up.’

“I’m not going to give-”  She turned around, ready to make a run for it, only for a clawed hand to grip her arm tightly and roughly turn her around to where she was met with cold, angry crimson eyes. 

She didn’t even have time to react before her world went dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Cold.

That was the first thing she noticed when she had awoken, was not just the feeling of the ice, cold room she was in, but the feeling of something cold and hard pressed against her skin.

Where was she? Had she escaped?

Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she attempts to sit up to stretch, but finds herself unable to move— and that’s when she realizes just what that cold and hard feeling was.

Chains.

Heavy, metal chains that were secured tightly around her wrists and ankles, restraining her to the wall of the dimly lit room, preventing any form of escape. 

"Ah, so you’ve finally awaken, my love.”

No.

Immediately, she begins to struggle, squirming, crying out and pulling at the chains attempting to break free, but no luck. She keeps her gaze on the ground, refusing to look up at him as his footsteps come closer and closer until they come to a stop. He knelt down to her level, his cold, pale hands reaching under her chin and cupping it, lifting it and forcing her to meet his mismatched blue eyes.

“Struggling will only make it worse, dearest. You don’t want to tire yourself out anymore, do you? After all, we’ve had quite the long trip back.” Though Hakuryuu’s voice held warmth, and his handsome face painted with a soft smile, his eyes told a different story. 

It was as if they were pure ice, sending chills down her spine, and beneath that ice was a pure, boiling fury that had not yet reached the surface. She could only imagine what her punishment would be this time— would he hurt her in that way again? Whipping? Torture? 

There was no way out of this now. She really was trapped with him, forever.

But why? Why wouldn’t he let her go? Why was he so intent on keeping her here with him? What was so special about her that he wanted only her?

After a long period of silence, Hakuryuu finally spoke, lowly, calmly. “You know, dearest…I hate that we’ve even had to come to this. And you were behaving so well, too. ” He toys with a strand of her unruly hair, twirling it around his finger. She swallows, bracing herself for whatever came next. “…You had finally stopped fighting me, you didn’t try to escape anymore…I thought you were finally beginning to return my love. That you were finally happy with me.”

He stands up and slowly walks over to the corner of the room where she can’t quite see, a place not lit by the oil lantern that hung near the entrance. Her breath was stuck in her throat and her heart pounded wildly against her chest. She had no idea at all what he had in store for her, but she knew this would not end up well for her.

“And just as I was beginning to trust you enough to allow you your freedom, you go and do this.” Now, she could hear the rage in his voice, and it frightened her to the point of tears, already was she beginning to regret her reckless decision. She had been so stupid. “Not only did you try to escape, yet again—” he appears from the shadows, and fear blossoms throughout her body as she notices his metal vessel which he tightly gripped in his hand.

“—but you did so knowing that you were carrying a child—my child.”  He was talking through gritted teeth, as if trying to keep his anger down. His other fist was clenched so tightly that blood began to drip down onto the floor.

“Hakuryu—”

“Shut up!” His voice thundered throughout the room, and immediately she did so, not wanting to anger him even further. “ I don’t want to hear your excuses! After all I have done for you—I take care of you, I give you everything your heart desires, I do all I can do to make you happy—and this is how you repay me?” 

Tears are falling down her face, shrinking away from his rage, wanting to curl up into a little ball as if she were a small child. “I’m sorry,” she chokes on her sobs, staring up at him through moist eyes. “I’m sorry, Hakuryuu. I promise I won’t try to escape again.”

“I know you won’t.” She jumps when she feels his hand running through her hair, a sickeningly sweet smile on his face, as if the tantrum he just threw never happened. “Because I have a way to ensure that you will stay by my side…no matter what.” With that, the symbol on his weapons begin to glow.

That could only mean one thing.

“No,” she begins to thrash around in her chains, attempting to get away from him. “No, Hakuryuu, please. Please not this, anything but this!”

“I’m sorry, dearest,” he wipes away her tears with his thumb and easily halts her futile attempt to escape. “ You know I hate having to hurt you…but this is the only way I can assure that you never run away from me again.”

He points the blade of his weapon against her head, and she continues to struggle with all the strength she had, until her struggles slowly came to a stop as she fell into unconsciousness.

He catches her in his arms, cradling her form, leaning and pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead, placing a hand on her stomach—where his child grew. “It is the only way that I can make sure you stay with me...forever.”

~~~~~~

Paperwork had to be Hakuryuu’s least favorite part about being emperor. Everyday he would come into his office and sigh at the seemingly endless stack of papers that lay on his desk, awaiting his signature.

He was halfway through the stack when a sudden knock on his door came. “Enter!” 

He looked up to see who interrupted his work, only to smile at the sight of his beautiful wife, who came in carrying a tray of tea and cakes. “Hello love,” she smiled and walked forward,  placing the tray down before walking around the desk and placing a kiss on his cheek. “You’ve been working so hard today, I figured you could use a snack. I hope you don’t mind me bothering you.”

Smiling, Hakuryuu reached for her and pulled her into his lap, placing a kiss on her shoulder as she giggled, a sound music to his ears. “Do not worry about it, dearest. You know you could never bother me.” He places a hand on the swell of her swollen belly, growing bigger and bigger with his child each passing day, before pulling her into a kiss.

It breaks after a few seconds, and he pulls away, looking lovingly into her beautiful eyes—her beautiful, vacant eyes— as he grabs a cake off the tray and brings it close to her mouth, and she eagerly takes a bite.

This was one of the things he enjoyed most about his days—his beloved wife to coming to visit him after a long day, carrying a plate of treats and spending time with him. No meetings, no bothersome magi interrupting them, just the two of them together.

He takes a bite out of the cake she had offered to him, running a hand through her long [h/c] locks, mindful of the claw-root that sprouted from her temple.

fin. 

[sidespromptblog]

The Change: Part 1

Two, Three

Summary: Deceit decides that its time for a change in his life, tired of being treated as nothing but the most awful and evil villain... he decides to go the largest degree possible to take that change. Leaving everything that he had behind him. 

Deceit’s clothes were in the trashcan.

The pitch-black caplet rimmed with yellow, the bowler hat, his shirt, and even his pants were stuffed in the trashcan as far as they would go down. It looked like they had been shoved down in there with a great deal of force, given how the bowler hat was caved in on itself after being mashed together with all of the clothes there. Everything from Deceit’s closet was strewn on the ground, ripped tatters of clothing laying haphazardously on the floor. Snake themed pajamas had been shredded completely so that there was no way to tell that the symbol on those clothes had even been a snake, to begin with. Everything, everything that had once told Deceit that he was a snake, and that he had always been a snake had been ruined.

And honestly, had it been done by anyone but himself the dishonest side would have undoubtedly been upset by it. Except, he did do it. He was the one who had taken a pair of scissors to every article of clothing that he had at one point conjured for himself.

He had done it.

Standing in front of the mirror, in clothes that rubbed against his skin in a way that he more than anything hated. He looked back at himself, at the person he was trying to be now.

His dark clothing had been swapped in for a nice sunny yellow sweater, and his black pants for a warm lightly golden brown that was the exact shade of a cookie when it was done baking. There were lovely sunflowers all over his new sweater, that showed off a much more… happy disposition than he would have liked. Even his gloves were gone, revealing the flesh that he normally kept hidden from the world as well as himself, skin that… still had scales on it.

That was the only thing that remained of the old him, the old Deceit, the him that he was trying to forget.

Those damn scales.

His eyes were the warm brown that they always should have been had he not been cursed with the appearance and likemindedness of a snake, brown and beautiful in the way the others would like. He had never minded his snakey eye, nor his scales, or the way that he sometimes had to swap his words around. But to the others… he was flawed, he was a mistake, he was the evilness of a good person that was lurking below waiting to strike, and he was… just bad. To them, he didn’t have the capability to change, to grow and become better, to them the only way that he could ever change was for the worst.

“I’ll miss you,” He honestly said to his scales as well as to himself, giving those bright glimmering brown and green scales one last longing look. He loved those scales, but alas… He moved his hand, allowing his fingertips to trail over the smooth scales, watching as they vanished in the wake of that one simple movement. They were… gone. “But it is for the best,” He told himself, forcing back the tears that wanted to arise at the sight of his ‘normal’ face. “Snakes never get what they want by being snakes.”

It was true, it was so painfully and obviously true.

If he wanted love, if he wanted acceptance, and if he wanted a family again… then he’d have to pluck himself of his scales and change.

That was the only way.

Looking back at his normal reflection he tried to smile at himself, regardless of how ugly such a thing made him feel. He wanted to sneer and snarl at his reflection just like he always did to make himself laugh, but… he couldn’t, because if he was going to be a light side.. then he needed to act like one. Whether he liked it or not, he needed to pass so that meant putting all of his acting expertise to good use and passing.

His smile looked nervous and scared even to him, but… it was good enough.

Looking around his bedroom, he longingly gazed at his things for the last time. His shelf that held books detailing magician tricks, the little trinkets that had everything that Remus had made for him over the years for his birthday, the picture frames that had him, Remus, and Virgil smiling at the camera… his room held it all. It held all of his memories, starting from the time he had first formed into a side in the first place, just to be greeted by the cold darkness that had nearly done him in the first night alone. At least that was, until Virgil had come along and found him… and saved him.

Deceit swallowed thickly roughly blinking back tears, “Goodbye,” He simply said to it and to everything he had once held most dear in his life.

Closing his eyes, he sank down willing himself to leave everything behind and to not take a single thing with him that would give him away in this new place. He had to be strong, and if he took even the smallest of things with him… well then it would all be over, and he’d be scorned even more than before once they found out. It was best to just leave it all behind, just as Virgil did, not taking a single thing.

It was warm.      

That was the first sensation he felt as soon as his feet touched the ground, it was so warm that his itchy sweater felt almost suffocating to him. That, and it was bright too. Brighter than the dimly lit hallways of the subconscious that would occasionally flicker and die, brighter than even the kitchen that had always been the brightest area of their living quarters. It was bright and warm, how on earth did Virgil live like this? Had he gotten used to it with his hoodie on? Had he secretly been hiding ice packs under it to stay cool so that he didn’t have a heat stroke? Or did he merely get used to it, adapting and evolving to become… better?

Blinking his eyes slowly, the world gradually came into view as his eyes adjusted to what had once been blinding light. He was.. He was in a hallway, a hallway that he had never been in before. Honestly, he had expected to end up in the living room, given that it was where he was imagining, but then again… he didn’t exactly know the other side’s area so well as he knew his own.

Glancing around Deceit was certain that to anyone looking he looked as small as he felt in the new area, like a tiny baby snake that wasn’t used to being born yet. He nervously swallowed, glancing at each of the doors before him. This really shouldn’t have been as hard as it was, and yet he here he was, having no idea on just which direction he was supposed to go. The area being a whole lot more massive than he had ever expected it to be. Where on earth was he supposed to start?

“Head I go left, tails I go right.” He merely told himself, scrounging around in his pockets for a quarter before getting it ready to flip. It landed on the space between his feet, the neutral face of whichever president looking back up at him. “Left it is…” Deceit muttered to him, swiping the quarter back up before looking in that direction. The stairs leading down at least told him where he was heading, so there was that to look forward to.

The itchy sweater clung to his back and arms as he slunk forward, his hand trailing along the wall as he made it to the lip of the first step of the stairway. Glancing down he felt his heart go soft in the middle, they were all there with Thomas in the middle. Virgil was leaning casually against the stairway railing, looking over to Roman as the creative side was rambling on and on. The others to their credit were listening as well, given that the creative side seemed to be holding a massive book in his hands and just from what he could tell, that was what he was talking about. Was it a book club? Surely not, Roman would never have agreed to anything so boring as that, if Logan had been the one to suggest it. Both Patton and Virgil would find such a thing to be too… boring.

Right?

Deceit lingered, he couldn’t help himself. The warm friendly atmosphere was just that… warm and friendly. It was nice to watch the other being enraptured by the story that Roman was spewing off, he couldn’t help but to smile even the smallest bit as the creative side waved his hands in an exaggerated manner his gaze shooting over to Virgil. He could have stood there for an eternity just watching, and he would have been none the wiser about such a thing. At least that was… until Roman’s eyes gradually shifted from Virgil, trailing up the stairs just to lock right on Deceit himself.

Lingering like a villain in the background.

“Great googly moogly!” Roman’s words shattered the pleasant aura that Deceit had been observing, “Who are you?!” The princely side declared, his book having been dropped as he pointed to the side right behind Virgil, to his credit the creative side hadn't drawn his sword this time... so there was at least that on his side.

Within an instant, Virgil whipped around, a clear but startled look on his face, that soon morphed into a half-hearted snarl. Logan merely looked curious at the new side before them all, a curious sort of glint shining in the eyes hidden behind his glasses as he tilted his head to the side in an effort to get a better look at him. While Patton… much to Deceit’s surprise, the moral side appeared to be the happiest of the bunch at the sight of him. Of course, he was… none of them knew that it was him, his scales and creepy eye were gone, and to Patton of all people, he looked nice and normal. So, of course, there were no sneers and harshly thrown comments at the state of his dress, they didn’t know.. they didn’t know.

Of course, that didn’t stop Deceit from almost immediately flinching back. Releasing his grasp on the railing as he instinctively moved back away from them all.

Patton was the first one to take a step forward, his hand outstretched towards the disguised Deceit. “Wait!” A soft patient smile curled on his lips, his eyes showing nothing but warmth and trust as he slowly took a step forward. “Wait,” He said more softly, “It’s okay, we were just surprised. You can come down.” He took one step at a time, doing everything in his power to look as unintimidating and unthreatening as possible. “Are you a new one?” He couldn’t help but to ask, it had been such a long time since they had seen a new side in their parts, and to suddenly see one now… it was unheard of since Remus and Roman had formed. “What’s your name… who are you.”

A part of Patton wanted to croon at the adorable sweater that the other side was wearing, but a more serious and fatherly part of him knew that it would have to wait as he extended his hand out to the side who was nervously picking at the golden thread holding said sweater together. It was a friendly gesture, and it would be read as a friendly gesture to the side in front of him, at least… he hoped that it would. And that he wouldn’t accidentally scare the new side off, and that maybe… who knows.

The golden-brown eyes of the other side suspiciously darted between Patton and his hand, as if it were a venomous cobra that would strike out and attack him. His fingers bunched up the material of his sweater as his back pressed flat against the wall, like a terrified little mouse not daring to make a single move.

“It’s okay,” Patton repeated in a gentle whisper, slowly lowering his hand, not daring to break the eye contact that he had.“I promise, you’re safe here and not one of us is going to hurt you. It’s okay.”

A pair of fingers gingerly and shyly curled around his pointer finger, gripping it fairly loosely.

“I…” The side before him nervously swallowed and shuffled their feet, “I am Self Preservation.”    

[himikiyo]

one billion foolish things // himikiyo week day 4

Himikiyo Week Day 4: Chapter 3 + AU

“The kind of love that would motivate one to do anything for their partner,” they said in the dark, spidery fingers dragging up and down her side. “That is the most pure, the most powerful. It is the ideal all other forms of love strive for. That is what I believe.”

Himiko tries the impossible.

Read on AO3 or under the cut

"Aaaand open says me!" Ouma announced, straightening up from his hunched over position and beaming at her. "But I wonder...what did you want this for, Yumeno-chan? Not up to anything naughty, are we?" Looking at her with wide-eyed innocence, he lifted a hand to his chin, finger tapping thoughtfully. His lockpicking tools were already stashed away in his pocket again, hiding any evidence of what the two of them were doing there.

The problem with getting help from Ouma was always one of motive. It felt nigh impossible to know what he was thinking or what his plans were. Not trustworthy, that was for sure. Himiko didn't want to give him any ammunition for future shenanigans, especially with something so delicate. It couldn't be helped though. She needed him, no matter how painful that was to admit. So here she was, trying to think of a way to evade his question.

"Don't be weird," she muttered. "If you say things like that, people might get the wrong idea."

"The wrong idea, is it?" He giggled, smile shifting into something decidedly more malicious. "No, I think it's exactly the right idea. But hey, what do I know? I'll just leave you to it." Having leaned in to deliver that last sentence, close enough that she could nearly feel his breath, he then drew back abruptly, turning away. A lazy wave was delivered over his shoulder as he sauntered out of the dormitory. She hadn't even remembered to double-check that he was telling the truth about the door before letting him get away.

Thankfully, it hadn't been a lie. When Himiko tried the handle, the door swung open easily, emitting a soft creak. For the first time in a week, Shinguuji Korekiyo's room was open.

She took one step inside, then another. As she closed the door behind her, not wanting to be seen, the other hand flicked on the light, illuminating the space with cold fluorescence. The scent of incense still hung in the air.

"Right," Himiko whispered to herself. The dorm rooms were soundproof — there was no need to whisper. It just felt better that way, as if speaking at a normal volume would be somehow disrespectful. Disturbing the dead. Legs feeling as if they were made of lead, she shuffled over to the bed, easing herself down.

The comforter was soft as she ran a hand over it, identical to the one on her own bed save for the color. This one had a small stain at one corner too, a result of them gesticulating too enthusiastically while holding an open tube of lipstick. Mindlessly, her fingers trailed over to that small patch of red, faded from the attempts to remove it, but not entirely gone.

"You should have told me," she mumbled. "Maybe I could've helped. Didn't you want to get out together?" They told her plenty of other things, tales from faraway lands and their own past alike. Too much, maybe, considering the situation. Sharing incriminating details during a killing game was a risk most people would be wise to avoid. Korekiyo wasn't most people though.

The day of the lipstick stain, she'd been sitting on the bed, right where she was now. She watched as they went through their routine, all without so much as glancing in a mirror. Stepping into the bathroom to look at their reflection would mean stepping away from her. That was the only reason she could think of for why they didn't, anyway, and it felt good to think of it that way. They were mid-story, explaining the customs of a mountain village they'd been working on an ethnography of.

"So I guess you'll be wanting to get right back to your travels after getting out of here, huh?" she said, unable to keep the glum tone out of her voice entirely. She'd gotten used to spending time together every day, and wasn't keen on giving that up. Not to mention, their solo trips for fieldwork sounded nearly as dangerous as life in the academy. Himiko knew they loved it, but she couldn't help dreading the day they were able to go back to it.

"Probably," they said. "I can't say for sure. Many things could happen between now and then, yes? Life has ways of turning all manner of plans against their makers."

"Well, yeah. I was just wondering." She shrugged, trying to act cool about it. Surprisingly enough, it wasn't met with irritation. Instead, they laughed, turning to look at her. Deft fingers set down the mascara they'd finished with and started opening a tube of lipstick.

"My my, could it be that you're jealous? You don't want work taking up so much of my time, is that it?"

"I...no, that's not..." Especially after learning a bit about how awful their sister had been to them, she didn't want to do anything that could be misconstrued as excessively controlling or possessive, even if in this case, it was true.

"It's quite alright. There's no need to get so worked up. In fact, I think it's sweet that you enjoy spending time with me so much. Rest assured, you will not fall to the wayside. That, I can promise. You've become very important to me, Himiko. Forgetting about you would be unthinkable." Gesturing widely, as if to indicate the precise amount of absurdity such an idea would involve, they accidentally smeared the lipstick applicator along the comforter.

They were so absorbed in reassuring her that their closeness wouldn't end that it took them a minute or two to even notice.

At some point while indulging in her memories, Himiko had closed her eyes, leaning back against the pillows. The pillowcase against her cheek smelled faintly of their shampoo, making her eyes begin to prickle with unshed tears. Just the smell of jasmine was enough to make her cry. She really was a mess. She couldn't afford to wallow forever though. The longer she stayed there, the more likely it was that someone would wonder where she was. Time to focus.

She reluctantly straightened up, taking a look around. She was here to pack a bag, that was all.

It was easier said than done. Every item her eyes landed on seemed to bring forth another memory, a consequence of how much time they spent together in this small space over the past few weeks. Korekiyo's presence seemed to hang heavy in the air, like they might walk through the door at any moment.

The actual packing was easy enough, if she didn't think about why she was the one doing it. Everyone else still alive would certainly see it as a betrayal, at least initially. Even Korekiyo themself might, if she was being honest with herself. She hoped that wasn't the case, but how was she supposed to be sure she knew anything about them anymore?

Folding outfits, slipping cosmetics into a ziploc bag to keep them safe on the short trip to her own room...The tasks were simple. They just shouldn't have been necessary. In another gesture of self-indulgence, she wrapped one of their jackets around herself, slipping it on. Oversized and warm, like so many other garments she'd borrowed from them before. Never where others could see, so as not to raise questions about their relationship, but that didn't matter anymore. She fully intended to keep the jacket on after leaving the room. She deserved that small bit of comfort.

There hadn’t been any comfort for her in their trial, that was for sure. No matter how much she pleaded for an explanation, she never got it. Not a real one. She could see the pain in their eyes, hear the stuttered beginnings of countless responses, but no answers that went beyond that. Himiko was left with stories that she knew even Korekiyo didn't believe and cutting provocations, all carefully engineered to provoke her.

They hugged her before the trial, mumbling reassurances. In hindsight, maybe it had been an early attempt to confess, to brace her for what was to come.

"Saihara-kun will find the culprit easily, just like before," they said. "There's no need for you to worry. Death comes for everyone eventually, yes, but you have many more years ahead of you. I'm certain of it."

The conversation strayed to happier topics as they made their way towards the Shrine of Judgment hand in hand, an attempt at distraction from the inevitable, and Himiko didn't bother thinking too deeply about what they said. Why would she, when she could instead think about the feeling of their touch and how nice it would be to curl up together later?

She should have known. She should have stopped them. That was the truth.

They didn't believe in the necronomicon either — that was another thing they said that day. They never believed there was a real way to bring back the dead, and maybe they were right. Himiko was just a stage magician. She was no expert on the paranormal. But she had to try. Going through a lifetime of not knowing would be unbearable.

"You can't blame me for trying, right?" she asked the empty room, giving the stack of clothes a final, absentminded pat before zipping the duffel bag closed around it. "I know you don't believe, so it only makes sense to try to accept it, but what if it's real? Wouldn't you want to get out of here together? You promised you wouldn't leave me behind."

Too soon, it was time to go back to her own room, bag in tow. Nobody saw her — a small mercy.

The duffel bag was cast aside on the bed. It was for the coming days, not right now. It might not be needed at all, if she was being honest. Only if this worked, and well...She didn’t know.

Her attempt wasn’t as fancy as Angie’s. Aside from the little flourishes necessary for a good magic show, arts and crafts had never really been her thing. She was always focused, single minded. Magic, fantasy, everything in a world separate from the one she was forced to be in. To her, art always felt like something more concrete, bringing imagination into reality. She didn’t have time to focus on other skills anyway.

The book said it didn’t matter as long as the effigy was labeled properly, so she was extra careful with that part. Contrary to her usual messy scrawl, Korekiyo’s name was flawlessly written on a sticky note, every stroke of every kanji precisely where it ought to be. As if lives depended on it (and one did, in fact).

Then it was time to begin.

~~~

What she was witnessing was impossible. Sure, she hoped, wished in an irrational, lovestruck way that a little bit of magic would turn out to really be in the world right at the moment she needed it most. Life wasn’t like a love story though. She couldn’t really expect that, so she’d kept her expectations low in an attempt to avoid getting hurt.

This was...This broke too many laws of reality to count. What the hell had she just done? Himiko’s hand wouldn’t stop shaking. She was used to that kind of thing happening when she panicked, tremors and such, but this was on another level. It was so jittery it was like it had a mind of its own. She was afraid she’d flick the lighter back on by mistake and burn herself, and wouldn’t that just be the cherry on top of this shitty, shitty week?

With great difficulty, she set it down on her desk with a soft clunk. There. That was one small problem solved. The scent of burning was still heavy in the air, charred paper and ink. Her legs were shaking too actually. She hadn’t even realized when she was still concerned with the lighter. It would be so easy to slump down to the floor, drop to her already bruised knees. Lay down right there and hope everything would be magically taken care of by morning.

She couldn’t do that though. She made a promise. She wasn’t going to run away from things anymore, and it seemed like that should be extra true for problems she caused herself. This most definitely fell into that category.

The floor was dirty now anyway, strewn with ashes, a spreading puddle of brackish water, and—

Right. Okay. Deep breaths. This was what she wanted. What she’d wished for every moment she had alone for the past week. It appeared to be, anyway. There had been no sounds yet, no movement, no acknowledgment, but there was no way her eyes could play such a massive trick on her. Whether it turned out well or not, she’d done something that couldn’t be taken back.

She just had to think this through. Gaining enough control over her limbs to stagger over to her bed and take a seat on it, she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to imagine what Saihara would do. There was no way she could go wake him up at this hour to help her, but she could at least channel his detective instincts. First, he’d investigate and get all the facts.

She moved to the other side of the bed, legs safely tucked up beneath her, and peered down at the floor. The figure there was eerily still and quiet. Were they even breathing? This wasn’t how the necronomicon said it was supposed to go. Just as she was starting to stretch an arm out to try nudging them, they curled in on themself slightly, letting out a soft whimper of pain. She hadn’t even touched them yet.

“Ah!” Himiko flinched, recoiling. Her startled reaction was embarrassingly loud, but they barely reacted, just covering their eyes with an arm as if to block out the light. Their damp uniform was damaged, she noticed, tiny rips and charred bits of fabric here and there. A few long moments later, they moved their arm again, blinking up at her. Their gaze was hazy and unfocused, so unlike what she remembered from countless moments of intimacy.

“Himi...ko...-chan.”

“Yeah,” she said with a wobbly breath, fighting back tears. “It’s me, I’m here. You’re...alive. I think.” Would that be the appropriate term at this point, or would it be more accurate to say they were undead? She could still barely see them breathing. It was creepy. “It really worked.”

“What?” they mumbled, still sounding pretty out of it. “Could it be? The necronomicon?”

“Yeah,” she said again. There was no point in lying. Hesitantly, she reached down again. This time, instead of pulling away before actually making contact, she brushed some sodden hair out of their face.

“Your hair is so pretty,” she murmured with a lengthy sigh, sitting cross legged in the grass. The courtyard was quiet, good for quality time together. If there were too many people around, Kiyo would probably pull away to make the whole thing seem less suspicious. Things like that had been hurtful at first, but they made it clear it wasn’t that they were ashamed of the relationship. They just didn’t want the rest of the class being suspicious of her by association — almost everyone seemed to believe that Kiyo was the shady type.

“Well, thank you.” A low chuckle followed, something she felt all the way to her bones. “I do strive to take good care of it.”

“It shows. I don’t think anyone else could hope to compete.” To an outsider, her little comments might seem envious, but that wasn’t quite true. Yes, Himiko wished she was the kind of person who could turn heads like they could, but that wasn’t what she was thinking about at the moment. Mostly, she was just incredibly gay. Her hands moved lazily, plaiting their hair into a loose braid without even thinking about it.

When her gaze landed on some wildflowers growing a short distance away though, a thought popped into her mind. Leaning forward from her position behind them, resting her chin on their shoulder, she proposed her idea.

“I bet it would look even prettier with flowers.”

At dinner that night, a few people laughed, not trying too hard to hide their snickers, but Korekiyo didn’t bat an eye. They just sat there primly in their usual spot, bright petals standing out against the black of their hair.

Her hand lingered against their forehead for a little longer than usual, wanting to check their temperature. Not corpse cold, thankfully. If anything, it seemed like they might be too warm. That made sense, given how it seemed like they’d been dumped right out of the soup pot and into her room.

“Why? After what I did...why?”

Himiko bit her lip, deliberately failing to answer the question. They deserved an answer. She knew that. Even if she thought they were nothing but a monster, they’d deserve it. She didn’t, of course, could never think of them that way, which made it even worse. She just couldn’t make herself say it, couldn’t force her mouth to create the necessary words. She shook her head, pulling her hand away.

“That’s not important right now. Um, are you...okay?”

The answer was a long time in coming.

“I don’t know.” Slowly, they tried to sit up. It was difficult to watch. The pain was evident in each and every movement, but why? The book didn’t say anything about that. It made it sound like anyone brought back would be fine, just like before they died. That didn’t seem to be the truth. Korekiyo was wracked with tremors. By the time they got settled, leaning back against the side of her bed, they were out of breath.

She couldn’t see anything wrong, but that meant next to nothing when the only skin exposed was the upper half of their face.

“W-well, how do you feel?” she tried. “What hurts?”

“Honestly?” They arched an eyebrow, and yeah, that was the kind of attitude she was used to. It didn’t necessarily do much to comfort her, but it was something. At the very least, they seemed mentally intact even if the same wasn’t true physically. “Everything. Everything hurts. If I was forced to describe it, I’d say...it feels like I was boiled alive.”

It wasn’t funny. It was the furthest possible thing from funny. And yet Kiyo’s deadpan intonation, perfect as always, started to get a giggle out of her. She bit her lip hard to suppress it, not wanting to be the kind of animal who laughed at her own girlfriend’s not-so-permanent death.

“It’s okay,” they said. “I was trying to make you laugh.”

“It shouldn’t have worked.” Snickering, she moved closer to let them lean against her, not caring about the dampness seeping into her own clothes as she wound her arms around them. “Really though, what can I do? How can I help?”

“You’ll have more than enough opportunities to play nursemaid, I suspect. There’s no need to rush. I’ll be alright for the next few minutes, so just sit here with me. Let me apologize, my dear.” Shaky fingers tugged their mask down, and she felt feverishly warm lips against her temple. “How long has it been?”

“The kind of love that would motivate one to do anything for their partner,” they said in the dark, spidery fingers dragging up and down her side. “That is the most pure, the most powerful. It is the ideal all other forms of love strive for. That is what I believe.”

“Yeah,” she breathed, drinking in their words, absorbing them. They spoke to something deep within, something she hadn’t known she needed. “I think so too.”

[writemarcus]

The Civilians Announces Tenth Annual R&D Group

The Civilians will present the newest members of The R&D Group, marking the Group's 10th season, and The Civilians 20th Anniversary Season. The R&D Group is comprised of playwrights, composers, and directors who work together as a writing group for nine months to develop new plays and musicals. The season culminates in the Findings Series, a works-in-progress reading series anticipated taking place in June 2021. The artists were selected from a competitive application process. The open call received a record number of 268 applications, a 60% increase from last year.

The members of The Civilians' 2020-21 R&D Group are Galia Backal, Nana Dakin, Isabella Dawis, Jacinth Greywoode, Jaime Lozano, Emily Lyon, AriDy Nox, Reynaldo Piniella, Tylie Shider, Tidtaya Sinutoke, Rachel Stevens, Ken Urban, and Noelle Viñas.

Led by R&D Program Director Ilana Becker, the artists share work as it develops, discuss their creative processes, and provide a community of support for one another. Each project develops according to its unique methods of creative inquiry, offering new approaches to the idea of "investigative theater." Methods may include interviews, community engagement, research, or other experimental methods of inquiry. The artists will meet twice a month, virtually.

"The sheer talent and curiosity we encountered in this year's applicants proved exceptionally heartening. This season's R&D Group artists, in particular, inspired us with their visionary and deeply personal approaches to questions that demand illumination," said Becker. Artistic Director Steve Cosson added, "I am overjoyed to mark the 10th Anniversary of The Civilians' R&D Group with these exceptional artists; I'm immensely excited as they embark on the process of developing these vital new projects."

Ken Urban's project, THE MODERATE, joins the group through The Civilians' new work development program; his play is commissioned by the EST/Sloan Project, developed by The Civilians, and will receive its first reading at EST. This season, Cosson and Becker will also hold two virtual roundtable sessions with Finalist Directors in order to better get to know their work, and to expand community.

The 2020-21 R&D Group projects are as follows:

SUNWATCHER

Libretto by Isabella Dawis, Music by Tidtaya Sinutoke, Directed by Nana Dakin, with support from Producer/Cultural Consultant Ikumi Kuronaga

SUNWATCHER, a Noh-inspired musical, is the story of astronomer Hisako Koyama (1916-1997) - intertwined with the ancient Japanese myth of the sun goddess Amaterasu, in a retelling inspired by the structure of classical Noh theatre. Hisako was a woman with no formal scientific training - also a survivor of the 1945 US air raid of Tokyo, the deadliest bombing in history - who managed to rise to the stature of Galileo. She did so by drawing the sun in painstaking detail every day for 40 years, a landmark achievement for solar science. SUNWATCHER is a celebration of Hisako's extraordinary dedication to ordinary observation, reminding us how seemingly small acts can have an immense impact over time and space.

BLACK GIRL IN PARIS

Music by Jacinth Greywoode, Book and Lyrics by AriDy Nox

BLACK GIRL IN PARIS is a musical about one of the most famous and least known black women in the American historical canon: Sally Hemmings. It hones in on her years spent in Paris, a point in her life where she both had the most access to freedom ever afforded her and the beginnings of the relationship that would forever define her legacy. Black Girl in Paris seeks to explore the inherent contradictions of an enslaved young black woman held in bondage in a city where slavery has been outlawed, under a man widely considered to be one of the architects of one of the greatest articulations of the necessity of freedom in the western world. It also centers an ensemble cast of Ancestors who chide and guide Sally along her journey, interweaving fables and history to craft the nuanced world Sally is forced to grapple with. At the heart of this musical is the question "What does it mean to be free?", a question black Americans have been grappling with since the original kidnapping and enslavement of Africans for The American Project.

DESAPARECIDAS (Working Title)

Lyrics and Music Jaime Lozano, Directed by Rachel M. Stevens, Co-Created by Lozano and Stevens

Told through the lens of Mexican folklore, our story explores the psychology behind societal suppression and the strategic erasure of female voices in the fight to end gender-based violence and the killing of women and girls. A female ensemble assumes a community of characters in a tapestried play of dramatized accounts, fictionalized scenes and musical sequences to unearth and dismantle the moral behind the 'myth' of violence against women.

DISSENTARY

Written by Reynaldo Piniella, Directed by Emily Lyon

Tasked with escaping your neighborhood, you inevitably run across environmental hazards that impede your progress. Especially if you're Black, Indigenous or Latinx. Dissentary takes inspiration from the classic game The Oregon Trail and adds an environmental justice lens; your group can do one of two things - leave in pursuit of clean air, water and healthy food, or stay and defeat the corporations focused only on profits. Dissentary will both be a participatory theatrical piece as well as an accompanying card game that will allow people to play the game off-line themselves, thus giving access to people who normally don't have access to the arts.

RESET: RACE and CULTURE CONTACTS in the MODERN WORLD

Written by Tylie Shider

an investigative work of theatre

about how incidents between police and black Americans

continues to reset race relations in the country.

THE MODERATE

a new play by Ken Urban, directed by Steve Cosson, commissioned by the EST/Sloan Project and developed by The Civilians.

ACCEPT. ACCEPT. REJECT. ACCEPT. REJECT. For a minimum of eight hours a day, with a target of at least 2,000 videos a day, Frank evaluates the videos and photos uploaded on the world's largest social media site. What Frank sees, he can't un-see, but he soon realizes he has the power to change the world. Playwright Ken Urban and director Steve Cosson will interview scientists, researchers and policymakers in order to dramatize the hidden human cost of the internet and imagine a future when a free exchange of knowledge and information is possible again. This project is an EST/Alfred P. Sloan Science & Technology Project Commission.

EL CÓNDOR MÁGICO

Written by Noelle Viñas, Directed by Galia Backal

El Cóndor Mágico examines the events of Operation Condor, the US-backed campaign of right-wing dictatorships and repressive regimes in South America throughout the 1970s-80s via oral history, research, and satire. It will also explore the American fascination with magical realism, a Latin American narrative tool rooted in history in a region where people have been known to "disappear," problems miraculously go away, and corruption can serve as a curtain behind which history does tricks. Research will unravel how the political imprisonment of over 400,000 people, varied intimidation/torture tactics taught by the US, and unknown thousands of "disappeared" people set a precedent for relations between the US and Latin America that haunt us today. With an eye on Operation Condor's long shadow and impressive wingspan, it asks: who is the magician behind the "magical realism" when it comes to the relationship between Latin America and the US?

FINALISTS

In honor of the overwhelming amount of talent and curiosity displayed amongst this year's applicants, The Civilians are pleased to share the exceptional finalists considered for this season's R&D Group:

Finalist Projects were proposed by Calley N. Anderson; Masi Asare; Helen Banner; Aaron Coleman; Sara Cooper & Kira Stone; Annalisa Dias; Dominic Finocchiaro & Stephen Bennett; Franky D. Gonzalez; Suzy Jane Hunt; Rachel Gita Karp, Ben Hoover & Jacob Russell; Divya Mangwani & Kate Moore Heaney; Talene Monahon & Adam Chanler-Berat; Brett Robinson; Dominique Rider & Nissy Aya; Marcus Antwan Scott, Ryan Kerr, & Dev Bondarin; David B. Thomas, Nick Hatcher, & Sheridan Merrick; Xandra Nur Clark; and Sim Yan Ying "YY" & Alvin Tan.

Finalist Directors are é boylan, Britt Berke, Matt Dickson, Joan Sergay, Noam Shapiro, Emerie Snyder, Leia Squillance, Alex Tobey, and Michael T. Williams.