#let's see which of them fares as a duo >:)

[multicolour-ink]

continued from this

[the-broken-truth]

Blot-Mates - Yuu & The Overblots [Prologue]

Summary: A potion explodes in Crewel's Class, causing the Dorm Wardens and Jamil to lose half of their power and be separated from their Overblot Forms. In an effort to maintain peace between the Originals and the Overblots, Yuu suggests that the Overblots stay in the Ramshackle dorm, which has recently been renovated. It remains to be seen how the Overblots will fare under the supervision of the Prefect of Ramshackle.

[Note: The Yuu Variant is Male with Enma Yuuken's Body Build, Yuuka Hirasaki's Fighting Skills, and Yuuta Mito's Cooking Skills.]

[Note: This Storyline will be written in Script Format.]

Parts: [Prologue] (Here) - [Ri] - [Leo] - [Azu] - [Jami] - [Vi] - [Idi] - [Mal] - [All] - [Epilogue]

[After receiving an SOS Text Message from Deuce Spade while repairing something around the school, Yuu [L/N] headed to the classroom of his Unofficial Adopted Father, Divus Crewel, who was scolding the Adeuce Duo like the bad puppies they were. Yuu walked over to them and asked what happened. Deuce explained everything that happened, resulting in Yuu pinching the bridge of is nose while his other hand rested on his hip.]

Yuu: Let me clarify the situation - You two (Pointing between Ace and Deuce) mistakenly added the wrong ingredient to the potion, resulting in a Separation Potion. Unfortunately, the potion affected the Dorm Wardens & Vice Head Jamil Viper. As a result, they are now separated from half of their magical power, which is currently within the Overblot Forms. These were separated from them and are now present in their own bodies. Did I miss anything? Please let me know if there are any other details.

Crewel: That is pretty much the entire situation, in summary, Pup. I'm going to see if there is an antidote, but I have never seen this kind of potion that would separate an Overblot from its Original Body, seeing this happening to the Overblots of Night Raven, is something confusing.

Yuu: Do what you have to do, Papa Crewel. Where are they?

Crewel: Crowley's Office.

Yuu: I'll take care of this. (Turns on his heel and starts walking away in the direction of Crowley's Office)

[Yuu walked up to Headmage's Crowley and opened the door, moving his head just in time before a blast of magic could hit him in the face. Yuu looks at the room, which was completely tossed around, while the Headmage was cowering behind his turned over desk while fearfully looking at the 14 students in his office. Each of the Originals were glaring at their Overblot Forms, the room filled with shouting about who was the 'Real Half' and who would be considered the 'Faker'.]

Yuu (Inhales before yelling over everyone else - if he had magic of his own, the very room would have rumbled from the power in his voice): SILENCE!

[The Original Bodies and the Overblot Forms look in the direction of Yuu, who is standing there with his hand pinching the bridge of his nose and his eyes closed while his other hand is on his hip; his well-known 'This is giving me a headache' pose.]

Riddle/Overblot Riddle: Rose/Prefect!

Yuu (Lifting his hand to silence them): Don't worry, I already heard everything from Professor Crewel and he is currently figuring out how to reverse what has been done. (Looks at everyone) Considering what I just saw, I can tell that The Overblots are not going to get along with their Original Hosts.

Overblot Leona: You think, Herbivore?! I don't want to be in the same room as this bastard! (Points at Leona)

Leona (Snarling at Overblot Leona): We're the same person, You Inked Bastard!

Yuu: Shut UP!

[Everyone is silent once again - not wanting to anger the Ramshackle Prefect.]

Yuu (Exhales and lowers his hand from his nose while his other hand remains on his hip): Until we find out how to reunite all of you with your Original Bodies, The Overblots are going to stay with me in Ramshackle.

Overblot Jamil (Smirks as his hair snakes hiss at Yuu): And what makes you think you would be able to handle all of us in the same dorm, Little Desert Flower?

Yuu: If I can kick your asses while you are all at full power... (Glares at Overblot Jamil - making him & his hair snakes freeze in fear) What makes you think I can't destroy you with only half of your power?

Overblot Jamil (Gulping before nodding): N... Noted, Prefect.

Yuu: Good. Now, Overblots, follow me - we are going to Ramshackle so I can get you all situated in your rooms.

[Yuu turns and walks out of the office with the Overblot Forms followed behind him without saying a word - leaving very shocked Dorm Wardens, Jamil, and Crowley.]

Malleus: Why do I get the feeling that I shouldn't leave the Overblots alone with the Child of Man?

Leona: We are all having that feeling, Lizard...

[The Door of Ramshackle opens and Yuu walks in with the Overblots walking behind him.]

Overblot Riddle (Looking around): Ramshackle looks...different than the last time I saw it, Prefect.

Yuu: I made sure to renovate it with the funds I had accumulated, to ensure that it is presentable for guests. (Turns to face the Overblots) Before we move forward, I need you to understand something: Ramshackle is not linked to any of the Great Seven - their rules and ways do not apply here. My rules apply here, and as the Prefect of Ramshackle, you must follow these rules, or else there will be issues. Nobody here is your servant, and you are not anyone else's servant either. You are here to relax and leave everything to me. If you want to do something to keep yourself from getting bored, you can go ahead, as long as it doesn't cause any harm to anyone or cause any conflict. Do you understand?

Overblot Leona: And just who the hell are you to command us, Herbivore? We still have more power than you do.

[Yuu walks over to Overblot Leona and gets in his face - no fear in his eyes.]

Yuu: And even with that power, I still kicked your ass. Do you really want a repeat of that experience, Carnivore?

Overblot Leona:... (Exhales) Fine.

Yuu (Steps back): Good. Now, let's find you all decent rooms for you all. (Looks at Overblot Leona) Tell me something, Leo - you like a sleep, just like your original, but you are not fond of bright places.

Overblot Leona (Raises an eyebrow): Leo?

Yuu: Considering the Dorm Wardens and Jamil are going to be coming here from time to time, I don't want to call you all by the same name. I've decided to fragment their names to give you names.

[Yuu points the Overblots & naming them.]

Yuu: Ri, Leo, Azu, Jami, Vi, Idi, and Mal. Are you okay with that?

Leo: Fine... I don't care.

[The Rest of the Overblots nod.]

Yuu: Okay. Leo, I have a room with some blackout curtains and it says rather cool in there; I think that room would be best for you.

Leo: What about the noise?

Yuu: It's fair away from the rest of the rooms, so there is not enough noise to disturb you.

Leo: Show me.

[Yuu gestures for the Overblots to follow him - everyone heads upstairs and takes them to Leo's Room. Leo walks in and instantly hopes in the bed and falls asleep within 3 seconds.]

Yuu: I'll let you know when dinner is ready, Leo. Sweet dreams. (Closes the door and looks at the rest of the Overblots) Okay - let's get you all into your rooms.

[Ri's Room is located downstairs with a clear view of Yuu's Garden, which is filled with Roses and can be seen from Ri's Window.]

[Az's Room has a massive tub that can hold him and his tentacles comfortably - Yuu would bring him some salt for him.]

[Jami's Room has a balcony with a lounging chair and enough room for him to break dance if his hair snakes didn't get in his way.]

[Vi's Room has a large bathroom and closet with some handmade outfits - turned out that Yuu was able to renovate Ramshackle with the funds he gets from his handmade creations; if Vi's Host wasn't a model and high-brand shopper, he would have thought Yuu's creations were designer.]

[[di's Room was just Yuu's Gaming Room that happened to have a very soft bed in there. Yuu's relationship with Idia allowed them to have a gaming night every Saturday.]

[Mal's Room was the closest one to Yuu's Room - Yuu knew how Mal's Original Host was overprotective of him and he knew that Mal was not going to be able to rest easily unless he was the closest to Yuu.]

[While the Overblots were relaxing in their rooms: Yuu was downstairs making dinner while Grim was yelling at him.]

Grim: ARE YOU CRAZY, HENCHHUMAN?! HAVE THE OVERBLOTS HERE?! WHAT IF THEY TRY TO KILL YOU?!

Yuu: They won't. I know they won't.

[Yuu places the food on the table: Beef Steak & Rice Bowls, drizzled in steak sauce.]

Yuu (Placing the last bowl on the table and lifts his head to see the Overblots standing in the hallway with their eyes on the food): Are you guys gonna stand there or come eat?

Jami: You... You made dinner, for us?

Yuu: Of course I did. Please, come sit and eat, I need to get the drinks and honey butter bread rolls. (Goes into the kitchen while the Overblots take their seats. Comes back with the bread rolls and drinks)

Yuu: Here you go. Tea for Ri, Vi, Az, and Jami - I have soda for Idi, Leo, and Mal.

[Placing the drinks in front of them before taking his seat. He sends a silent prayer to the Great Seven before starting to eat.]

Jami (Takes a bite): Prefect... This is very good. What kind of dish is this?

Yuu: Something from my world - Beef Steak Stripes over White Rice drizzled with Steak Sauce.

Mal (Holding a Bread Roll): Why does this bread smell so sweet?

Yuu: I used Honey Butter.

Leo: It's still good. This would be better with dessert.

Yuu: I have some Plain Cheesecake & Strawberry Cheesecake in the fridge.

Ri: Cheesecake...? What is that?

Yuu (Smiling): I'll give you all some for dessert later. Just enjoy your dinner. (Keeps eating)

[The Overblots look at Yuu for a while before they continue to eat in silence.]

[END - TO BE CONTINUED]

[robotlesbianjavert]

I am feeding on the spinaraki but I just had a cold realization that hori might’ve been setting up dabitoga as a duo counterpart this whole time… I am not at all a fan because isn’t toga based off of harley and dabi inspired by joker? The most famous abuser-victim dynamic in comics? That plus the age difference, hori better not imply anything romantic, not even a blossoming crush from toga because that would ruin some things for me

if it makes you feel more at ease i am 150% sure that the narrative isn't setting up a dabitoga duo in any narrative changing way (particularly in the romantic sense), or that any joker & harley quinn parallels that the characters have aren't strong enough or utilized in a way that might indicate a similar dynamic.

i did a quick look to see if there was any official word on whether toga was inspired by harley in any way - didn't find anything, though if someone does have that confirmation let me know. in any case, while i'm most familar with her b:tas incarnation, i wouldn't be surprised if harley was a source of inspiration for the creation of toga. they are blonde, firstly. they got cheerful demeanors belying their internal struggles, they're acrobatic, regarded as crazy by those around them. they are both preoccupied with love, and most importantly are sapphic icons.

but aside from those basic points, toga stands on her own as a character enough that she's more than a possible harley quinn expy, and further comparisons fall apart under scrutiny.

toga is a teenager vs harley having been an adult professional.

harley's turn into villainy is generally instigated by her relationship with the joker and the intimacy he promises her (idk about every incarnation but that's the backstory i'm familiar with) while toga's is instigated by wider societal attitudes and quirk-based urges she lacks support to deal with.

both characters in some way seek validation and understanding in their pursuit of love, but harley is trapped in her relationship with the joker because of the intimacy he promises her between the abuse, the way he makes her feel special and worthless in turns, and she twists herself around for his approval. in contrast, toga's crush on ochaco and deku is strongly characterized by her trying to get them to meet her on her level, wants to be loved as is without changing herself for their approval.

so there's similarities between the characters, but toga's plotline is very much her own, not a riff on or or commentary about harley quinn. that's all toga babeyyyyyyy

dabi very decisively i will say is not inspired by the joker. mostly because when i searched to see if there was any official word on that, all i got was a bunch of articles claiming that "dabi's dance" was an homage to that joker dance from that joker movie which joker happened. which i always felt was really, really weak and predicated on knowing that horikoshi obviously knows who the joker is, as a comics fan. dabi's too janky and excitable to be the be the slow and methodical bathroom dance, not coordinated enough for the stairway scene, and none of his movies just really line up to anything joker does? like the connection just seems to be "has danced and is also a villain".

i've also seen people reference this art he did as anime promo as a dabi-joker reference, but i think dabi wearing a raggedy suit isn't like. super joker core of him. again the connection is just like. "wore a suit and is also a villain".

there's just not much in terms of dabi's history, ideology, or motivations that matches up with any particularly iconic joker characterization or lore. dabi is pretty well defined, whereas joker has existed for a gazillion years in so many incarnations that him having a multiple choice past is actually a valuable part of his characterization in a few versions.

interestingly, there are some characters that fare better as potentially joker inspired.

twice in a way that is very much iconic gets the "all it takes is one bad day" theme established by the killing joke in reference to his backstory in MVA; he and toga (in another harley shout out for her) had the inside cover of Volume 16 resemble a popular harley quinn & joker cover. but again, twice's reaction to his bad day was overall different from the joker, and his relationship with toga is drastically different from joker & harley.

redestro when first introduced got a lot of joker comparisons for his appearance, animated physicality, and a bit of flair for showmanship. but again in reality he is very different from the joker in terms of his ideology and goals.

i guess you can say that shigaraki shares a lot of the nihilism that joker often gets characterized with? but again. that's about it lmao.

basically, i think you can see bits and pieces of the joker in parts of bnha, but bnha does not have a joker, if that makes sense.

i also don't think that dabi & toga, while they do have a dynamic that gets a lil highlight in the last arc, it isn't really prominent or a driving force for either character. dabi's motivations are always primarily going to be tied to his family; toga was already in Thee Iconic Duo with twice, and since then a lot of her narrative motion has been tied into ochaco.

prior to the third act, their relationship was mostly dabi calling her crazy while she was normal and polite at him. there's stuff to work with, but honestly not a lot there if someone wants to make dabi and toga Significant.

when i get really excited about spinaraki as a duo and their narrative potential, it's because spinner's characterization for almost 200 chapters (WHOA) has been distinguished by shigaraki inspiring him and spinner growing to care about him, and it's emphasized in every appearance from mva onwards. for spinner, his relationship with shigaraki is a driving part of his narrative.

with shigaraki, his feelings about the league were much more idk spread out, though his most prominent dynamic up to the point of mva had been with toga and twice during the yakuza arc - and then frustratingly since mva his feelings about the league are skirted around and avoided. up until NOW in 411 with a SPINNER MENTION that is EXPLICITLY TIED into what spinner had been so awed by in mva, that gotdamn horizon babes, which still may not necessarily pay off with further insight into shigaraki's thoughts about spinner and the league but i hope will pay off in a way that i can say. Spinaraki Real.

anyways really long way to say that i wouldn't worry about it 👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻 i will protect you from this possibility.

[manygalaxiesinone]

Prinny Instructor Charlie & Vaggie: Pt. 3

Valvatorez: "That is all for today everyone. Keep up with your studies and prepare yourselves for tomorrow, where we shall begin your combat training."

Prinnies: "Aye aye dood!"

Valvatorez: "So, what are your thoughts on today's class?"

Charlie: "It was very informative. I couldn't stop myself from taking notes! President Emizel wasn't kidding when he said you're the top instructor."

Valvatorez: "Ah, you were taking notes? My if I see them for a moment?"

Charlie: "Of course!"

Valvatorez: -!!- "My word... you practically wrote down every single word I uttered throughout the lecture down to its proper punctuation. I'm very impressed Charlie. Keep this up and you'll be a master Prinny Instructor in no time at all."

Charlie: "Thank you, sensei Val!"

Valvatorez: "Sensei Val? Hmm... That's a cute new nickname. How about you? How well did you fare today?"

Vaggie: "Needless to say, not as great as Charlie. I didn't take down many notes, but I made sure to remember how prinnies are made and at least half of the rules you said."

Fenrich: "I'm surprised you were listening at all. I half expected you to drift to dreamland during my lord's lecture."

Vaggie: "Well I can't disappoint Charlie by not putting any effort into this, now can I?"

Valvatorez: "It is unfortunate that we couldn't let either of you practice today as we couldn't adjust our schedule. Fret not. You two shall get your chance in the upcoming week. For now, use this time to explore Hades if you haven't already. Fenrich and I have matters to attend to, so this is where we part ways until tomorrow."

Charlie: "Now that I think about it, we really haven't done that yet, have we? Alright, time for some sightseeing before pulling a hard cram session! Let's go Vaggie!" holds her hand and starts pulling.

Vaggie: "You don't have to pull so hard! I'm coming!"

Valvatorez: "Charlie Morningstar... she already possesses the makings of a fine prinny instructor. I should have expected no less from Lucifer's offspring. What say you, Fenrich?"

Fenrich: "In my honest opinion, I believe she's merely another airheaded buffoon. I suspect it's only a matter of time before she gets herself into trouble. At the same time, she could be of some use. If word spread that we inspired Lucifer's daughter to become a brilliant instructor, perhaps that'll convince the other instructors in Hades to pick up their own slack."

Valvatorez: "Exactly! Once the other instructors are whipped into shape, the quality of the prinnies shipped out will increase dramatically! More prinnies will become eligible for graduation at once and the overpopulation issue will resolve itself faster overtime!"

Fenrich: "Which will bring the universe one step closer to restoring its natural balance. What a fantastic turn of events, my lord."

-meanwhile...-

Charlie: still drags Vaggie around. "I wonder what we should do first! Maybe we should stop at RosenQueen, or visit the Mid-Boss carnival area! Or maybe even-"

Vaggie: "Slow down, Charlie! One at a ti- hmm?"

Artina: "..." Walks right pass the duo with her head in her clipboard, not paying any attention to them.

Charlie: "I wonder what type of snacks they have around here. Oh, I hope it's churros!"

Vaggie: "Charlie! Stop!"

Charlie: "Hmm? What's wrong, Vaggie?"

Vaggie: "I thought I saw... an angel..."

[anarchy-n-glitter]

Blood of the Dragon

Summary: Lord Viseryon Draecyr and his dragon blooded companion Lady Aelora arrive in Rohan seeking refuge for a week. No one knows the true reason they're there, but many are suspicious of the lord's intentions. Along the way, Gríma finds a sort of kinship with Lady Aelora.

Chapter 1

A Dragon in Meduseld

It was said that the scales of dragons could be used to create life.

The dragon blooded were volatile yet loyal creatures said to be gifted with the beauty of elves and the strength and cunning of their dragon kin. Their blood red eyes were a distinctive trait of the race, as well as the talon-like nails that grew from their nail beds, blending with the tips of their fingers. They were not scaly, nor were they slimy, and they did not sprout bat-like wings from their backs. Not much was known of what exactly it was these creatures inherited from their dragon kin. 

The practice of creating a dragon blood was said to have been banned amongst sorcerers and alchemists across Middle Earth, for the life it created arose from a corruption of nature’s will. Those who defied their brethren to create such a creature often held ulterior motives - they created out of their need to play God and acquire power that was never theirs to begin with. And so, those who created a dragon blood were often banished from their homes… or they were put to death.

Never did Gríma expect to see a dragon blood in his court.

Naturally, when he was informed that the alchemist Lord Viseryon Draecyr and his dragon blooded companion Lady Aelora Draecyr would arrive at Meduseld he was suspicious. Sorcerers using their dragon bloods to carry out political assassinations was not entirely unheard of, in fact, it was part of the reason the practice of creating a dragon blood was banned. They were loyal, if their creator asked them to kill for them the companion often would.

The duo had clearly traveled far, seeing as Lord Viseryon was from Gondor. They had to have been traveling for three days straight, and for the most part, they looked like it. The usually well kept lord seemed exhausted, with dark circles under his silver eyes, and his usually slicked back silver-blond hair was frizzy and hastily pulled back into a ponytail. His dragon blooded companion seemed to fare better, with the only thing out of place being her similarly colored hair, which was braided back but similarly frizzy. Small bits of her hair fell from her braid and framed her face nicely. Lady Aelora was all around much more radiant than her creator.

Gríma quickly found the legends surrounding dragon bloods to be true. Lady Aelora was quite beautiful, with fair skin and striking silver-blonde hair and solemn red eyes. He was sure he was leering at her - or at least that’s what he assumed since any time he so much as glanced at a lady in court he would be accused of leering - but he certainly knew he was staring. She stood silently beside her creator with her hands folded in front of her, and although there was a sadness behind her icy expression, he could almost detect a loathing. Whether it was directed at him (which would hardly surprise him, most women stared at him with loathing), or the king who sat beside him, or the man she arrived with he would never know. One thing was for sure, there was something that lurked beneath her solemn and serene surface. It intrigued him.

For a moment he let himself get his hopes up, and at that he had to swallow a bitter laugh. Lady Aelora would never look in his direction if he wasn’t seated next to the king. Even then, she shared a last name with the Lord Viseryon, and while relations between a creator and their creations was frowned upon and even forbidden, Gríma wouldn’t put it past the treacherous lord. After all, he defied everyone in creating her and got away with it. He knew better than to underestimate and trust a man like him.

Ironic, wasn’t it?

Still, out of curiosity he would grant the lord whatever he pleased, and perhaps he would get something in return. Or he would lose another political rival. He considered both options a win.

“I apologize, King Théoden, for the intrusion. You see, my companion and I have been traveling for days… our home was…” Lord Viseryon trailed off, hiding hurt in his voice. Lord Viseryon talks too much, Gríma concluded as he tuned him out. He already recognized what the lord was doing - dressing up his story as a means to hide his true intention and invoke pity - a play Gríma was very familiar with seeing as he often used it himself. Despite the theatrics of her creator, Gríma’s attention was stolen by Aelora, who managed to enchant the advisor without uttering a single word. He wasn’t sure what brought the duo to Edoras, but against his better judgment, he was determined to find out. 

Luckily for him, King Théoden was hanging onto every word that left the lying lord’s mouth. For a moment Gríma wondered if the king knew of what truly happened to Lord Viseryon - why he hadn’t been at a gathering in Gondor for years, why no one spoke of him anymore. It was as if the lord had ceased to exist. 

“We humbly ask for a place to stay in our time of need, your highness. For the roads have grown perilous - lawless - as of late.” And there it was. Of course, Gríma never would have expected the lord to be so forward and obvious with his plans, but he assumed Lord Viseryon was not the brightest lord in Middle Earth. This was certainly going to be interesting.

The tired king glanced at his advisor, finding himself unable to answer the lord without the opinion of Gríma. The mere idea of having to think on his own was exhausting, and with his illness setting upon him again it seemed nigh impossible. All he could think about was the burning in his eyes and lungs, and the way his heart beat irregularly in his chest, and the ache in his bones. When he was able to think clearly, he found himself wondering if he was even fit to rule in this state.

This was, of course, by design - unbeknownst to the king. 

The raven haired man beside him paused for a moment, taking one last look at the lord and lady before leaning over to whisper in the king’s ear: “Let them stay, they have traveled long enough.” His eyes flickered to Aelora, and for a moment her intense eyes held his gaze. Oh yes, this time he certainly saw something stirring within her. Had she been watching him?

He stood, still staring down at Aelora, and gathered his cloak. There was a chill in the air, and it was getting rather late. He could see the shadows growing longer and the sunlight shone a darker golden color. There seemed to be a shift in Aelora’s demeanor; her hands dropped to her sides and she was focused squarely on Gríma, staring at him through half-lidded eyes. For a brief moment, his heart swelled with pride - who was leering now? 

No, he thought to himself, she must be tired. He could feel the disappointment as Aelora dropped her gaze once more, returning to her earlier stance but this time briefly looking at her creator. He shouldn’t be surprised, his own staring probably scared her away like it did everyone else. 

“And how long did you intend on staying?” He inquired, somehow still finding it hard to tear his eyes away from the dragon blood. Viseryon took a step forward, most likely knowing the king’s advisor wasn’t looking at him, and crossed his arm across his torso in a half bow. Gríma knew the narcissistic lord wanted his attention, and for a moment he wondered what would happen if he didn’t give it to him. He hoped the lack of the spotlight would drive the lord mad.

“Only as long as it takes for our carriage to be fixed. From the looks of it, we should be gone by the seventh day.” Viseryon claimed, to which Gríma nodded and looked back to King Théoden.

The king appeared to be half asleep in his throne, and he gazed upon everyone with tired eyes. His advisor silently encouraged him to speak, but he could not find the strength to do so. Each breath took too much from him, the thought of speaking was nauseating. King Théoden solemnly nodded.

“Seven days it is then.” Gríma confirmed. “I’ll have the castle staff prepare rooms for you both.” There was a sudden, almost violent shift in Viseryon’s demeanor. He wondered what it possibly could have been about. 

The lord let out a small sigh and all of the sudden tension in his stance melted away. He took another step forward and bowed properly, only addressing King Théoden and looking right past the raven haired advisor. 

“Thank you, your highness.” The lord’s words fell on deaf ears seeing as the king was too far gone in his pain to hear him, and Gríma’s attention was stolen by Aelora, who coyly curtsied and locked eyes with the advisor once more. 

It had to be some sort of trick - a tactic to distract him and throw him off of their track. No woman would ever willingly look at him like that… he would have to keep tabs on her and see what she was up to. With the king seeming sicker than he ever had been before, he figured that would give him a few days to do as he needed. With one last glance at the duo, with one last look shared between him and the dragon blood, he turned on his heel, his cloak billowing dramatically, and helped escort the king back to his chambers. 

✵✵✵✵✵

Lady Aelora seemed to be a quiet girl, preferring to stay out of everyone’s way and only really spoke when spoken to. She enjoyed sitting alone in the courtyard with her books or embroidery. The day before she found herself amongst the other ladies of the court who seemed surprised by her presence, wearily spouting their introductions before taking over the space. They would gossip amongst themselves while someone gently played the harp in the background. He noticed Aelora subtly tapping her fingers along to the tempo of the music. She seemed to be able to hold her own in conversation with those women rather well, laughing along with them with a sweet laugh that reminded him of a bell. He could tell she was raised amongst the noble men and women of Gondor - she fit right in with the other lords and ladies.

Although, he did wonder if she knew what the others said about her, how they would give her odd looks and keep her at arm’s length when around her, never truly considering her “one of them.” The other women seemed to almost prefer not speaking or looking at her. He knew exactly what that was like, although in recent years it seemed like everyone was much more open with their disdain for him. They called him “wormtongue” to his face now instead of behind his back, often using it as a title or - even worse - in place of his actual name.

The people of Edoras often acted like they would rather die than be near him, not that he minded. Over the years he’d grown accustomed to the strange looks, and the way others would cross to the other side of halls when they’d see him coming. It hardly bothered him anymore. 

He could sympathize with her, though - after all, he knew exactly what she was experiencing. He was sure she was used to it as well, she was a dragon blood, and no amount of odd excuses could hide that fact from the world. She must have lived her entire life this way, never truly being able to be close with anyone other than her creator. 

What a miserable life that must be, he thought, stuck with Viseryon as your only friend and companion. Really it was no wonder Aelora seemed so at peace when by herself. 

Gríma also noticed that she would go about her day without interacting with Viseryon. He would have expected her creator to lurk around her, or at least the other way around, but it seemed she spent her days unbothered by what the bratty lord may be doing. She was alone, but she seemed to thrive in her loneliness. He assumed being alone was better than the other option, better than the whispers and the hurt - being treated as the ‘other.’ It was no wonder she enjoyed the silence, the peace that came with being alone. He wondered how she dealt with the empty feeling that came with being alone. Perhaps it was because she was always occupying her mind, but he would never know for sure. 

She hardly seemed concerned with the state of their carriage, only going once the day before to check on the progress with Viseryon before returning to her usual mundane tasks, which was slightly concerning to her raven haired admirer. It made him wonder if she was restless at all - it made him wonder if she had other business in Edoras that she hadn’t attended to yet. 

He found it hard to keep convincing himself she was up to something, and he worried for a moment that perhaps Aelora was a red herring - a pretty distraction for him to chase around and get lost in his thoughts over. He dismissed that idea almost entirely, determining that Lord Viseryon wasn’t smart enough to think of that, and from what he knew, the obnoxious lord was too busy terrorizing others to get even remotely close to the ill king. 

It had been three days since she arrived in Edoras, and she had yet to do anything worth noting so far. She seemed to have a routine that she followed closely; each day he would find her near the feast hall in the morning, where she would take a single green apple and stand silently beside Viseryon while he rambled on, before excusing herself and heading to her room. From there she would retrieve whatever activities she would use to keep herself busy for the day and head to the courtyard, and there she would stay until the sun would begin to set.

Yet that day, she seemingly broke her routine. When he followed her from her room that morning and she took a completely different turn than she usually did it completely threw him off. She walked right past the courtyard and out the front doors. Clutched in her hand was a leather bound book and a quill. She made her way down the steps and towards a small clearing just behind Meduseld. 

She stood out amongst the sea of green, in her black and red gown with her silver hair. She shone like a beacon, and it was hard to miss her. She waded through the tall grass to a large, bare tree that had lost all of its leaves to the chill. It was old and twisted, and its bark had turned pale in the sun. The tree must have been dead, but that didn’t stop Aelora from sitting at its base. He watched her closely from the shadow of the hall on the hill, hoping she wouldn’t notice him. For a while all he could see of her was the top of her head, with the breeze revealing more of her every so often. She wrote for hours, only stopping for a moment when a court musician stopped and chatted with her. He could have sworn she glanced his way a few times during this conversation, and for some reason it made him feel uneasy. She was polite and even laughed at a few of his jokes, before he went on his way, and she went back to her leather bound book which she wrote so furiously in. That was another sign that she had been raised like any other high born lady, she could read and write.  

“I don’t bite, you know.” She called out, and for a moment he was taken aback by the sound of her voice. He hadn’t heard her speak before. She had a regal voice that somehow reminded him of the sweetest song he’d ever heard. Surely she wasn’t talking to him. Her red eyes settled on his shadowy form, and she simply stared. “I’ve seen you every so often, I wasn’t sure if you were afraid of me, but I can assure you it won’t hurt to come sit with me for a while. I understand the curiosity… or do you prefer to lurk in the shadows?” She spoke with a jovial tone but he could tell there was more to her words. 

Gríma stepped out of the shadows of the hall and into the sunlight. She didn’t gasp at his harsh appearance in the light, not like the others would. She didn’t speak either, though, and he wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good or bad sign. He knew she had seen him before, but there was still a nagging insecurity deep down that she would treat him like everyone else did. He couldn’t have that happen when he needed to keep an eye on her. He inched nearer, the fallen leaves crunching beneath his boots. 

“You’re a dragon blood.” He stated, still standing over her, trying to find a way to continue a conversation. She smiled wolfishly.

“How could you tell?” Aelora had a wicked playfulness to her that seemed to put Gríma at ease. 

“Who’s your kin?” That question seemed to catch her off guard. She placed her quill in her book and closed it, placing it on the ground and standing. She was shorter than him by a few inches. 

“Ancalagon the Black.” Impressive, he thought, very impressive. He wondered where Viseryon even managed to get one of Ancalagon’s scales. 

“Really? I wonder what you inherited from him, certainly not your stature.” His tone wasn’t nearly as distinctively playful as hers, in fact, he spoke in his usual monotone. He worried for a moment that she might take his words the wrong way. The dragon blooded girl feigned being hurt, bringing a hand to her chest where he could see her blackened fingertips and nails. “Your hair is almost white…” He trailed off, bringing his hand up to touch it before stopping himself. He watched as her eyes flickered between his hand and his face.

“You seem knowledgeable, you should know my hair color is courtesy of my creator, Viseryon.” She stopped and gently grabbed his hand. Her touch was soft and took him off guard, he was so used to women - mostly one woman - recoiling from his touch. She brought his hand closer to the side of her head. “You can touch it if you’d like.” His eyes met hers and he was ashamed to say he felt something. It was a feeling he only had when he was around…

Her silver curls were softer than he’d thought they’d be, especially after seeing her that first day. His hand traced down the side of her head, gently pulling a tuft of hair forward with it, where he laid it over her shoulder. He found it hard to look her in the eye again, but he knew she was staring at him intensely. 

“I know you know who I am, but you have yet to give me your name, king’s advisor.” She breathed. His eyes flickered to meet hers again before looking away. He focused on the tree. 

“I am Gríma, son of Gálmód.” He finally introduced, bringing a smile to the dragon blooded woman’s face.

“It’s nice to have a name for my admirer.” She remarked, and silence fell upon them again. They both waited on baited breath, wondering what the other would do, both hoping the other would take the chance… It was Gríma who broke the silence.

“Does it get lonely?” She tilted her head at his question.”Being a dragon blooded, I mean. I see how others treat you.” She smiled, turning around to collect her book, before answering. When she faced him again, he saw something else in her eyes. She placed her hand on his chest, and in it was a piece of paper from her book. He paused for a moment, still unsure if she was comfortable with him touching her. His hand had barely ghosted hers when she pulled away, leaving the page from her book in his waiting hand instead. 

“Of course not.” She began, trying her best to keep the conversation light. She brushed past him. “All I need is my creator.” There was a coldness in her voice, that loathing he saw when he first met her. 

When he turned around she was gone.

✵✵✵✵✵

It was dark when Viseryon stormed down the halls of Meduseld. He often strut about the hall, acting as if he were king, much to the dismay of the staff. He always seemed to be worse at night, constantly mistreating the staff who would attempt to hand him new sheets or candles. He was an impatient, almost spoiled man, who felt the need to lash out at the world for whatever reason. He was rude, and thought highly of himself. Many attempted to avoid Lord Viseryon when they could, and those who did interact with him often wished they hadn’t. 

The lord only had one thing on his mind, and it was that he couldn’t sleep. He mentally cursed the weaselly advisor for having the staff set up two separate rooms for Aelora and himself - the longer he was away from his dragon blooded companion the more he had convinced himself that Gríma had done it purposefully. Viseryon knew he needed to be rested for what was to come.

The halls were cold at night, and dark, with sparse torches lighting the way due to the straw roof. The stone steps were like icy daggers in his feet, but that would hardly stop him from getting what he wanted. As far as he knew, Aelora’s room was closest to that advisor’s. He wondered if she knew that when she spoke with him in the garden earlier that day, when she let him touch her hair. He wondered how long this had been going on - how long Gríma had been vying for his creation. 

The mere thought of someone stealing something that was his made his blood boil. 

He stopped at her door, taking a deep breath to try and compose himself before knocking. His knocks were gentle, unsure if Aelora was already asleep at this late hour. 

“Aelora?” His voice was soft. He felt as if he was going crazy being without her. Ever since they arrived in Edoras she had been withdrawn. She hardly spoke to him when she was around him during the day, and now she sleeps by herself. In that moment he convinced himself she was cold and alone. 

There was no answer. 

He knocked again, this time harder. 

“Aelora? Please, I need to be with you.” Again, he was met with silence. He banged his fist once against the door and shouted out. “Aelora!”

✵✵✵✵✵

His lips were heavy upon hers and his hands wandered around her body - feeling every inch as if to commit every curve to memory. Every now and then he would grip her hips and pull her closer to him, grinding his hardening cock against her, making her ache with need as she never had before. Her hands were tangled in his raven locks, tugging every now and then as a soft moan escaped her lips. 

Her back was pressed against the wooden wall beside her bedroom door; only a measly few inches of oak shielded them from the watchful eye of the outside. No one would hear how she panted his name, nor would they see how his boney hand clung to her clothed pale breast. His body caged her in, pinning her in place as his shaking, slender fingers trailed to the lacing on her bodice. Slowly, almost in an unsure manner, he pulled the lace to undo the knot at the top of her dress. His hands felt frigid against her fiery skin, keeping her grounded in the moment when her head was buzzing.

She’d never done anything like this before.

The excitement of it all, the way it felt forbidden - oh it was too delicious. 

When he had read the note Aelora had graciously written him during her time clearing before they spoke he was sure she was playing a joke on him. It was a relatively short note, laced with her usual sarcastic banter, but it was enough to frighten him and excite him at the same time. 

To my admirer, 

Meet me in my room after dark, I know your room is beside mine. 

When the sun finally set and he was done with his duties for the day he rushed to his quarters, worrying for a moment what might happen. Their encounter in the garden left him thinking of her for the rest of the day, wondering why she felt so comfortable around him, wondering why she wasn’t repulsed. Her touch was burned into his skin. 

Gríma’s lips left hers for a moment and she found herself desperately chasing him, wanting more, before he settled in the crook of her neck. He quickly pulled her dress’s bodice aside, exposing her breasts to the cool night air. He couldn’t help but run his hands up the length of her torso, squeezing her soft flesh as he bit down on her shoulder, eliciting a sigh from her - it was the sweetest sound he had heard by far. 

He hardly knew her, and yet he felt as if he could love her. 

He felt her body grow rigid at the sound of a knock at the door. His eyes met hers and he saw actual fear in them. They had nothing to fear, at least, that’s what he believed. In a moment of greed and pride, he continued to ravage her neck, pulling her close again. Let them hear, he thought to himself. 

He paused at the feeling of her hands gently pushing him away. 

“Gríma… Gríma, stop for just a moment.” She commanded in a hushed tone, and he obeyed, watching her with curious eyes. She didn’t attempt to cover up, and she still held him close despite pushing him away.

“Aelora?” Gríma couldn’t help but drop his head in frustration. It was Lord Viseryon, of course. Who else would dare bother Lady Aelora so late into the night?

Well, besides himself, of course. 

Aelora held Gríma’s gaze for a moment, and he could tell she was trying to think of what to do. Another knock resonated through her room, this time louder. She pressed her lips into a thin line, and he could tell she dealt with him doing things like this often. Her hands began to slip from his shoulders, causing him to panic slightly.

No, no they couldn’t be done. He couldn’t just leave her like this.

Perhaps it was selfish of him to want to continue. He gently took her hands in his.

“Aelora? Please, I need to be with you.” Viseryon whined. The way he phrased that made a wave of unease come over Gríma. He hated to think of what the lord could possibly mean by that, surely it wasn’t the same as what they were just doing. He hoped it wasn’t. 

Aelora’s hand slipped from his and she brought a finger to her lips, telling him to stay quiet. Viseryon hit the door this time, causing her to jump. He called out her name one last time, and Gríma saw her expression change from one of fright to that same icy expression she wore the day she arrived. He saw the loathing in her eyes. He was relieved to know it wasn’t directed at him after all. 

“Not tonight, Viseryon.” She stated sweetly.

“Aelora, my dear, it’s been two nights. I haven’t been able to sleep without you.” Gríma furrowed his brow in confusion. She continued to stare at him.

“Please? I would like to spend another night alone.” She answered, practically begging to have her own personal space. 

“You know you’re all I have.” Not for long, both Gríma and Aelora thought, unbeknownst to the other. “Just let me have this one night, then you can have the rest of our stay here alone, I promise.” She rolled her eyes, knowing every word from his mouth was a lie.

“Please go. I would like to sleep.” She finally said, this time much more sternly. There was a moment of silence, and he reveled in that silence. He watched how her expression changed as she returned to their moment - their moment of intimacy. He felt the urge to touch her again, bringing his hand up to her face. She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes and letting out a shaky breath. He wanted her more than ever. 

He leaned close again, hoping she would reciprocate, and as she leaned in too…

Viseryon banged on the door once more, letting out a growl of frustration before storming off. They could hear him grumbling obscenities as he marched away, and she knew she was in for some sort of punishment the next day. 

Gríma stared at her, unsure of what to do next. Much to his dismay, Aelora gathered her bodice, pulling the garment back over her arms and lacing it back up. She was done for the night. She looked back up at him, and for a moment he wondered if she could see the hurt in his eyes. As if to reassure him this wasn’t rejection, she leaned up and gently pressed her lips to his. 

The kiss was short and sweet, but it was enough to set him at ease. When she looked at him again she had tears in her eyes.

“I want Viseryon dead.”

[rockybloo]

I'm in love with Corroded Treasure, especially Loligo and Avis, can you tell us more about them? And how many people are gonna join their crew?

Gonna answer backwards since the first is def gonna be longer.

I honestly have no idea how many people will join Loligo and Avis' crew atm only because Corroded Treasure is lowkey a dumping ground for my old OCs that I still want to use. Which is why the whole world the story takes place in is based off toysets and such to make some sense in canon.

AS FOR LOLIGO AND AVIS-I have no idea how much anyone really reads lore wise but a quick run down is that Loligo is a god who achieved godly status by beating Davey Jones in a game. He enjoyed his powers until one day his crew pulled a mutiny and stole his eye, nerfing him and trapping him in a treasure box to be buried forever on an island unmarked by any map.

Avis is a avian sapient (winged race of people in Corroded Treasure) who is very much interested in pirates. She's honestly interested in the whole world but since she is an avian, they live high high HIGH above everyone else in the sky in lowkey isolation.

So she decides one day to bail and chase that pirate life after reading about the legend of a grand sea faring god.

And so Loligo became Avis's first treasure hunt. Something that should have ended with her empty handed as it was stated to be impossible for Loligo to ever be found but Avis is a master navigator and did the impossible.

And since she is such a good navigator, Loligo figured she would be perfect to find his eye and get his full powers back.

Initially he was just gonna use her an leave but over the course of his journey, he winds up growing attached because she is the only person who still sees him as some cool dude even though he's nerfed. So he winds up developing a crush.

He is very stubborn about this crush.

He would rather die than confess he is in love. He will, however, express affection but in such a way that he doesn't feel like a sap. He can't let the world know he's a simp.

Avis, on the other hand, is very obvious about her crushing. It is one of the first things anyone learns when they first meet the duo. She is Loligo's ride-or-die, even though he hates the concept of her being so willing to risk her life for him and scolds her every time. Ironically, she has no idea Loligo actually likes her. She just thinks he's being his flirtatious pirate self. Even when they get intimate together, she just thinks "Oh Cap'n is just being Cap'n~!" since he does flirt with others when parked at ports...but that's only so he can get people to do things for him. None of it is genuine unlike when he is with Avis.

And Loligo is just "How can I make things ANY MORE OBVIOUS I LOVE HER WITHOUT ACTUALLY SAYING IT I AM RUNNING OUT OF IDEAS ME FUCKIN' DAMN IT"

So their dynamic is basically just Di$ney villain and his henchman but they both are crushing but henchman believes it's one sided when it's actual mutual.

[lingocurio]

My imaginary trip to the Azores starts in 10 days! Let's figure out what it would cost.

TLDR estimate of per person per day cost: CAD $235/USD $172 for solo travellers; CAD $205/USD $150 for dynamic duos.

Read on to see how I arrived at those numbers.

I already have my flights in and out of Terceira, my accommodations, transportation and activities. The only thing left to figure out is how much food is going to cost.

I first used Google maps to find restaurants in Angra do Heroismo. For some of them I was able to see menus. It seems that most entrées range in price from around €15 to €24. I can probably estimate an average price of about €20/day for a nice dinner.

I would opt to have a hot meal at a restaurant as my mid-day meal when possible. Oftentimes lunch menus have cheaper items available than dinner menus.

For breakfasts and suppers, I would shop at markets and grocery stores. My accommodations has a kitchen with a fridge, stove, microwave and basic cookware, so I can easily whip up some easy meals and store food.

I found this website that gives the cost of common grocery items. Here's a sample grocery list for the week that would provide for hearty breakfasts and simple suppers:

1 liter of milk, €0.69

2 loaves of bread, €1.44

500 g (1 lb) of rice, €0.54

A dozen eggs, €1.98

500 g (1 lb) cheese €3.86

500 g (1 lb) chicken €4.00

500 g (1 lb) apples €0.72

500 g (1 lb) bananas €0.32

500 g (1 lb) oranges €0.72

500 g (1 lb) tomatoes €0.72

Bottle of wine (mid-range) €5.29

Domestic beer (0.5 liter bottle) € 1.89

The grand total for this list is €22.17, or €2.77 per day (my stay on Terceira is 8 days long).

I always like to round-up when estimating to allow for unexpected expenses. So let's say I need about €3/day for breakfast and supper.

It also occured to me in the meantime that if I'm eating at a restaurant, there's going to be tax added to the bill. I thought I saw somewhere that Portugal has an 18% VAT (Value-Added Tax). So a €20 meal is going to come to €23.60.

Then we also need to figure in tips. In Canada, I usually tip about 15-20%, so let's just use the VAT rate of 18%. That means we have to add another €3.60 to the €23.60 meal (€20 entrée + €3.60 VAT) for a grand total of €27.20, on average. Again, I like to round up when estimating, so let's call it an even €30.

So altogether we're looking at about €33/day for meals (€30 restaurant meals + €3 groceries). For the 8 days that comes to €264.

Let's add it all up!

Meals: €264

Cab rides to and from the airport: €40 + tip = €47.20

Guided tours: €279 + tax + tip = €379.44

Bike rental: €45 + tax = €53.10

So far the total is €743.74. Let's convert that to Canadian dollars. The current exchange rate is about CA$1.46 per Euro. So the total in Canadian dollars is going to be about $1085.

Now let's add the accommodations and airfare, which I already have in Canadian dollars.

Accommodations: $296 + tax = $349.28

Airfare Terceira to Ponta Delgada (taxes and fees already included): $107

Airfare Toronto to Terceira (taxes and fees already included): $341.

The grand total to the nearest dollar is: $1882, or $235.25/day. In US dollars that would be about $1377, or $172/day.

This estimate is for a solo traveller. If you are travelling as a couple or with a friend or family member that you can share accommodations with, the per person cost will be cheaper since the cost of accommodations will not be double the amount for two sharing a room. I think the accommodations I pretend-booked can accommodate two people with no change in price. For food, you would obviously need twice the amount, but often with groceries buying double the amount doesn't necessarily mean double the price, since you usually pay a premium for smaller packaging. For restaurant food as well, you can sometimes get shared platters or a set dinner for two that is cheaper than buying two individual meals. And obviously for a cab, the fare is the same whether there is one passenger or two.

So let's say that food for two adults might cost around €60/day (€55 restaurant meal + €5 groceries), or €480 for 8 days.

Cab rides to and from the airport will still be about €50.

Guided tours and bike rentals will be doubled at €760 and €106 respectively.

Convert the subtotal of €1396 to Canadian dollars at the current exchange rate of $1.46 and you get $2038.16.

Accommodations stay the same at $349.28. Double the airfare for the two flights to get $214 and $682. Grand total is: CAD $3283.44, or CAD $1641.72 per person (about $205/day per person). In USD that comes out to $1201.40 per person, or about $150/day per person.

And there you have it! Now I can start saving up for a real trip one day!

Next stop: Ponta Delgada.

[popmusic101]

Flashback: Girls Like You - Maroon 5 feat. Cardi B

17th July 2023.

Olivia Rodrigo's 'Vampire' only lasted a single week at #1 which is a little surprising. I thought it would be more popular to be honest, but instead Dave and Central Cee's 'Sprinter' has reclaimed the top spot.

We'll flashback five years to 2018 when the #1 single was 'Girls Like You' by Maroon 5 and Cardi B.

I'm not a massive fan of this music video honestly - the parade of celebrities (including Camilla Cabello, Jennifer Lopez, and Mary J. Blige) dancing behind Levine feels a little self-satisfied and frankly kinda lame, but I do like the song itself, particularly Cardi's verse which is pretty great.

It's a little funny to hear Levine singing about women given his texting scandal which dropped in 2022. Especially given the, uh, lack of eloquence in his leaked messages. "I need a girl like you" indeed.

The song itself got a lot of negative reviews in 2018, getting called 'boring' and a 'snoozefest' (although Cardi's verse was praised), but it was incredibly popular despite that. 'Girls Like You' hit #1 in thirteen countries and was nominated for a Grammy for Best Pop Duo/Group Performance (losing to Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper's 'Shallow'). It was Maroon 5's third #1 in NZ and Cardi's first.

It's a decent enough pop song, but it's not mind-blowing or anything, but Maroon 5 doesn't typically make 'mind-blowing' music as a rule. Pretty standard #1 fare from them, I guess. Let's see what happens next week and if Olivia Rodrigo can stage a comeback!

[thetoxicgamer]

EMEA Heats Up and SSG Frexs Overheats as ALGS Split One Playoffs Finals Lobby is Set

The Apex Legends Global Series Split One Playoffs Bracket Stage results in triumph for some teams as they advance to the Finals and heartbreaking failure for other teams as they are eliminated from the LAN event. And during the fierce skirmishes that followed, many teams were physically pushed to their breaking point, as was the case with Spacestation Gaming, who ended the day as a pair. But the main narrative earlier on in the day was the re-emergence of some of the favorites from EMEA that had struggled at points during the Group Stage. Acend, Element 6, and Alliance finished the Winners Bracket in positions two, three, and four. The placements were a stark contrast for the teams to the first couple days of the competition, when all three of them needed to scramble for points in their later Group Stage games in order to even qualify for the Winners Bracket. https://twitter.com/PlayApexEsports/status/1621923416591794177 Alliance and Acend both secured signature victories in games five and six, respectively, to seal their spots at the top of the lobby, while Element 6’s consistently strong showings ensured they’d be at the top of the table as well. North America also fared very well during the Bracket stage, with NRG taking a commanding first place finish in Winners and The Guard, Esports Arena, XSET, and TSM following in places fifth through eighth to make Finals. But with so much conversation around EMEA and two of their best teams being unable to compete due to visa issues, it was a big confidence boost for the region to see other traditional favorites take up the mantle convincingly. Spacestation’s last dance heats up Spacestation’s Joseph “Frexs” Sanchez confirmed the rumors that the team would be splitting up with Mark “DROPPED” Thees following the Split One Playoffs in an interview with Esports.gg prior to the day’s competition, and the team just barely missed qualifying for Finals during the Winners Bracket by one point. The team heated up in Losers Bracket Round Two—but in Frexs’ case, it was a bit too much heat. DROPPED would later confirm on Twitter that Frexs played all of his games today with a sweltering 104 degree fever, apparently sick but testing negative for COVID, which allowed him to continue competing on stage at the Copper Box Arena. Despite clearly looking under the weather, Spacestation raced out to 41 points after the first two games in the Losers Bracket, and even won a game where Frexs was playing with an icepack on his head tucked under his headset. https://twitter.com/PlayApexEsports/status/1621960058815873024 With their spot in the Finals assured after a couple more games, Frexs bowed out from the day’s competition early, letting DROPPED and Angello “xenial” Cardenas finish the last two games as a duo. The ultra-consistent NA squad hasn’t failed to miss a LAN Finals lobby since the return of Apex LANs last year, and today not even sickness could stop them. Records and hearts broken The second round of Losers was a phenomenal one for Luminosity Gaming, who set an ALGS LAN record with an astounding 23-kill victory on World’s Edge to comfortably win the lobby and send the all-Mexican squad to Finals alongside fellow NA squads Spacestation and DarkZero, and other fan-favorite teams like EXO Clan, Fnatic, ONIC Esports, and DreamFire. https://twitter.com/PlayApexEsports/status/1621983532997386255 But not everyone could qualify, and it was a particularly heart-breaking end to the tournament for Pioneers and one of the most popular personalities in all of Apex, Casper “Gnaske” Præstensgaard. Needing a huge game in the final match of Losers to ensure they could qualify for the Finals, the team seemed to be in a good spot to collect a win. But they couldn’t fight off a third party after winning an initial fight in the tightly-contested ending south of Lava Fissure, and bowed out of the tournament altogether, missing their first LAN Finals as a squad since the return of LAN in 2022. Overcome by the moment, Gnaske broke down. https://twitter.com/Gnaske_Lone/status/1621993061172518912 It was a reminder of just how far these competitors push themselves to succeed, and how disappointing it can be to not reach their ultimate goals. The Finals stage is set 20 teams remain in the running for the Split One Playoffs crown, with the 10 teams that qualified from the Winners Bracket receiving advanced starting points for the Finals in accordance with their placements. Eight of the 10 North American squads that traveled to London for the LAN qualified for Finals, the most of any region, while four of the five APAC South teams also qualified in another strong showing for the region that has more than earned the respect of the international Apex community over the last year. Meanwhile, it’s been a quieter tournament than expected for many APAC North squads, with four qualifying for Finals and only one managing to do it through Winners, fun123. EMEA sends three teams to Finals while still missing two of the best teams in their region, Aurora and Fire Beavers, and Team Singularity will carry the banner for South America, finally getting their shot in an ALGS LAN Final. The match point format action kicks off tomorrow, Feb. 5, bright and early at 6am CT. Read the full article

[smaidjor]

life slips in through a backdoor (the last life pearl and scott fic)

So I know I said a new chapter of the i bet on losing dogs series would be next but I got really attached to galaxy duo in last life and now this exists. I promise I haven't forgotten that series, I just got busy! I'll be editing the promised chapter in the next few days, hopefully I'll be able to post it soon.

Anyways, with that out of the way, disclaimers time! So, disclaimer that I haven't watched Pearl's series yet, so I am deeply sorry if I get her characterization wrong. I did my best. (And a small clarification on Pearl's characterization in this- she comes off as pretty ruthless at points, but she really isn't more so than Scott. Ultimately, neither of them actually want to hurt each other.)

(Also ms. pearlescentmoon if you ever see this, i am so sorry. mr smajor if you see this thats on you for lurking in empiresblr /j (no but really, sorry for making your minecraft roleplay character incredibly sad on numerous occasions.))

So!

Title: life slips in through a backdoor

Word count: 2501

Summary:

In the end, it comes down to this.

Pearl is willing to kill Scott.

Scott is not willing to kill Pearl.

And yet, in the end, she hesitates.

-

Last life fic featuring the concept of Pearl and Scott being the final survivors.

Warnings: blood, death, suicide, referenced suicidal thoughts. Neither of them is in a good place emotionally and if that or any of the other mentioned topics may be triggering to you then I would recommend not reading this.

Actual fic under the cut:

In the end, it comes down to this.

Pearl is willing to kill Scott.

Scott is not willing to kill Pearl.

And yet, in the end, she hesitates.

It’s just them left now in this empty world. Pearl isn’t sure which is worse, the thought that their friends are lingering behind, watching over them, or the thought that they’ve entirely abandoned her and Scott. That they aren’t worth watching over.

In the end, Pearl and Scott sit atop Ren’s tower, legs swinging over the edge with recklessness born from loss. The tower is one of the few places left even somewhat intact- they get the best view of the shattered, scorched world from here, not that there’s much left to see.

The snow fort is in shambles, bits of its walls melting and sliding down, the soul sand floors stirred by a hundred footsteps. The Fairy Fort is in ruins, Joel’s bridge is burnt. Magical Mountain hasn’t fared much better- Scar never got the chance to finish repairing his roof after Joel blew it up. Neither did Pearl and Scott, to be fair- the peaceful little cottage Scott built lies in ruins at the base of a massive column of lava around what was once a beautiful tower.

Maybe, in a more peaceful world, they would have spent the hours required to drain away the lava, to rebuild the cottage from ground up until it became a cozy place to live once more. In this one, they simply...ran out of time. There was never enough time for this place to become beautiful, not with the lingering threat of death over all their heads.

Even now, Pearl can hear the metaphorical clock ticking; it’s only a matter of time before one of them snaps and kills the other. Scott is so close to the edge, it would be so easy to push him off…

But Pearl is in the same position, and by the look in Scott’s exhausted, red eyes, he knows it. And yet he’s made no move to hurt her.

“One of us is going to have to kill the other,” Pearl says. There’s no use beating around the bush when it comes to this- they wasted all their time on the struggle for survival, leaving none for pretty words or delicate conversations.

“I don’t want to,” Scott replies.

“Don’t want to kill me, or don’t want to die?”

“Both. Neither. I don’t know.”

“Me neither,” she admits.

The silence that falls is near-suffocating, broken only by the faint whistle of wind through the trees.

Eventually-

“I don’t want to be alone,” Scott says, and Pearl’s known him long enough to know that’s more of a confession than he lets on.

“I don’t think I want to either, Scott,” she tells him. “Who would?”

“One of us has to die,” he says. It’s not an answer.

She leans her head on his shoulder. “I know. I’m sorry, for all that’s worth.”

He rests his head on top of hers. “Me too.”

Another beat of silence.

“So, what do we do?”

“I don’t know.” It’s strange to hear those words from Scott, Scott who always has a plan, who’s always taking charge, who always has at least some idea of what to do, where to go.

Pearl doesn’t think she likes that. “I mean, you’re right, like you said, one of us has to die, but...who? Do we just battle it out in some appropriately dramatic location?”

Scott doesn’t answer for a moment, and when he does, his voice is controlled, calm, any emotion carefully ironed out. “I won’t kill you.”

“Why not? Do you not feel the blood lust?” Pearl certainly can. Her heartbeat thrums louder in her ears and she’s vividly- painfully- aware of how precarious their position is, how vulnerable Scott is with his legs swinging over the edge and his head resting on hers. She could throw him off the tower. She could slide a knife into his ribs- her hand is already resting in the perfect spot.

Scott shrugs. “I never said I didn’t. But quelling the urge isn’t worth the consequences.”

She gets it, in a way. She’s not sure if she could live with herself if she killed him now, tempting as it is. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to deal with the guilt either.”

“Oh, it’s not that. It’s that I’ve already lived through being the last one alive of a pair, and I’m not keen on doing it again.”

Oh.

“Do you know how lonely it gets?” Scott goes on. “How bitter the ache is, knowing that you’re alone, your person is gone? Ren killing me was a mercy.”

“Will you ask me to do you the same mercy?” Maybe Pearl from five lives and a war ago would have hesitated at the blunt phrasing, but now, she asks the question with mere curiosity. Some fundamental part of her died with those five lives, some soft, innocent part that still balked at the cruel reality they’ve been forced into.

“I won’t fight back if you do decide to hurt me,” Scott tells her. It’s a roundabout way of saying it, but it gives an answer to Pearl’s question well enough: yes.

She knows- they both know- that she can’t hold back the urge to kill forever. This is a game that can only have one winner; refusing to fight back is, in essence, suicide.

She doesn’t want to hurt him.

And yet….

“Is there a way you want to die?”

“Quickly, and while looking hot.”

That startles a snort out of her, and he laughs too, shoulder shaking under her head.

“Scott!”

“What? It’s the truth.”

Pearl snorts again, less humorous this time. “Any other requests?”

“I don’t care if you give me a proper grave, but if you do, bury me with a handful of poppies. Take care of the axolotls, of course. And Pearl?”

“Yeah?”

Scott lifts his head, turning around to face her properly. “Live for me, alright?”

She’s startled by the sudden lump in her throat, taking in the bags under his eyes, the bruises still littering his face, the sheer sincerity of those red eyes. It’s a twisted parallel to how they used to stare into each other’s eyes and hope not to be boogeyman; then, they hoped to never have to take a life, especially not from each other. Now, Scott is looking into her eyes and asking her to take his.

Pearl swallows hard. “I will.”

Scott laughs, then, a sound with no true mirth to it. “It’s selfish of me, really, to ask you to live when I’m doing my best to avoid doing that. Then again, you always wanted to survive a bit more than I did.”

“It’s true,” she agrees. “You have lines you won’t cross. I’m more willing to bend my rules, though there's some I won't break, you know?”

“It’s a good trait to have. I can’t fault you for it.”

“I do what it takes to win, I guess.”

“You do.”

“Still,” Pearl says, “I wish it wasn’t you that I had to kill.”

“So do I, but here we are.”

Guilt swirls in her stomach. “I’m sorry.”

His smile is sad. “It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not! It’s not fair that we’re all stuck here, it’s not fair that there can only be one winner, it’s not fair that it has to be me and you. It’s not.”

He reaches out, tugging her into a hug that’s made all the more dangerous by the ten-meter drop that their legs are dangling over. It’s awkward, a strange tangle of limbs with both of their bodies angled awkwardly, but it’s the closest to home that she’s gotten since Last Life began.

Scott doesn’t say ‘I love you’. He doesn’t say ‘I’m sorry’. He doesn’t say ‘I trust you with my life and my death’. But his head is resting on her shoulder, and the chinks in his armor would be so very easy for her to take advantage of in this position, and Pearl understands, on some level, at least a little of what he’s trying to communicate.

He pulls away, eventually, and reaches for the straps on his chestplate.

The survival instinct that’s been drilled into her flares in alarm. “What are you doing?”

“It’s pretty hard to stab someone through a chestplate,” Scott replies wryly.

“Oh- are we doing this now?”

“I think it’s better to. Unless you have loose ends you want to tie up before my untimely death?”

Pearl almost laughs. “You’re terrible, Scott.”

He gives her his classic head tilt and smile, with just an edge of sorrow behind the playful grin. “You love me.”

She can’t argue with that. “Where should we…”

“I was thinking back at our original base. It seems fitting.”

“I mean, most of it is covered in lava, but I see your point.”

Scott laughs at that- this time, his laugh is more genuine, though more tired. “I’m sure we can find a clear patch somewhere.”

They take their time going down the tower. There’s no need to rush, not when what they’re rushing towards is such a terrible, inevitable tragedy. There’s a makeshift cobblestone staircase winding around the interior of the tower- briefly, Pearl wonders who made it.

“Good thing this is here, huh?” She tries for a smile with those words.

“You’re welcome,” Scott replies, and she can imagine the grin on his face. “I made these stairs for Cleo,” he adds. “She never carried building supplies on her- to this day, I don’t know why.”

“I guess we’ll never know now.” It’s sobering to think of the companion they’ve lost- Cleo wasn’t with them from day one, but she was a good friend. She saved Pearl’s life, once. Pearl doesn’t suppose that even if she and Scott weren’t forced to kill each other, they could ever shake the sense of something missing. Even now, Pearl finds herself glancing behind to make sure Cleo’s following once in a while, and she’s always surprised by the empty space where a fiery-haired zombie should be.

Their trio is already incomplete. Pearl dreads being the last one left of it.

All too soon, they’ve made it back to the ruins of the Scottage. Scott looks around, one hand on his hip, looking for all the world like he’s getting ready to scold some kids for vandalizing his house rather than searching for a place to die. She stays quiet, not wanting to force the moment to come any sooner than necessary.

Soon- too soon- he calls her over to a quiet little spot near their walls, untouched by the lava, soft moss under their feet. It’s nice. Peaceful. There’s even a couple of dandelions springing out of the ground nearby, blooming despite the chill of the forest they’ve chosen to live in.

It’s a very Scott spot to pick. He loves flowers and cute things and moss, of course it would be here.

Pearl swallows hard as he settles down in the grass with the air of a cat picking a comfortable spot to sleep. “Here?”

“Here,” Scott confirms. “Hang on a moment, though.”

“Yeah?” For just a second, she thinks he’s changed his mind, but all he does is take off his jacket and wrap it around her shoulders.

“There we go, we’re good now. Go whenever you’re ready.”

Her heartbeat is pounding in her ears, urging her on as she draws her favorite knife, the one that’s stuck with her through all the hundred fights of Last Life, the one that was enchanted using the table she and Scott stole from Joel.

Just kill him. He’s so vulnerable, Pearl’s mind whispers. Her heart is so loud she can’t hear anything else over the pulse of blood, each beat bringing them closer to the inevitable ending.

She rests her knife directly over his heart, between his ribs. The barest hint of pressure, and suddenly there’s a spot of blood blooming on his chest, and suddenly Pearl can’t do this.

Scott is smiling at her, a gentle look he spares for very few, but that can’t stop the panic swelling in her chest. She doesn’t want to- she can’t- her heart is still pounding, the voice in her head demanding blood, but Pearl doesn’t want blood. Not like this. Maybe if Scott fought back, forced her to choose between his death and hers, she could do this. But with his soft gaze on her, something fond in the edges of his smile as he lets her kill him- she can’t. Suddenly, Pearl has her answer to the question from earlier- it’s worse if their friends are watching them, if they’re witnessing her hands shake and her breaths come shallow as her knife rests over the heart of the one person who never did her any harm. If they’re witnessing her shame.

The world demands blood. Pearl can’t give that to it.

Words are falling past her lips before she can stop them, coming out shaky and breathless. “Scott, please, I can’t- please, not like this. Please, Scott, please.”

“Shh, shhh, I know,” Scott soothes. He reaches up, hands wrapping around hers where they’re clutching the knife with white knuckles. His eyes are gentle, sorrowful, when he promises “It’s going to be alright, Pearl.”

And before Pearl can stop him, he yanks the knife towards him, sliding between his ribs with perfect accuracy. He’s dead before his body hits the ground, a knife in his heart and a smile on his face.

Pearl doesn’t scream. She doesn’t sob, or call his name, or beg for this all to be a cruel joke on the part of the universe. She’s too well acquainted with the universe to think that any of its cruelty could ever be a joke.

Instead, she stares numbly at Scott- Scott, who was laughing with her not even an hour ago, who was the kindest person in this hell of a server, who was her friend.

The blood spreading on his chest almost looks like a flower.

Poppies, Pearl remembers. He loved poppies.

He never said why.

Now she’ll never know, just like she’ll never know why Cleo didn’t carry blocks on her, or why her teammates called themselves widows and laughed, bitter and resigned.

She picks poppies from around the map. She closes Scott’s hands around the bouquet, and she tries not to remember his hands closing around hers on the knife.

She buries him with the poppies, and puts her beanie on his head to keep him warm.

She plants flowers on his grave.

The tombstone- which no one but her will ever see- reads

Scott Smajor

Beloved friend and husband

“Live for me, will you?”

In the end, it comes down to this.

Pearl was willing to kill Scott.

Scott wasn’t willing to kill Pearl.

She sits at his gravesite, his jacket wrapped around her, and cries.

There’s no one but the poppies to hear her.

[a-lil-perspective]

Which one of them would have the hardest time letting the kids grow up/ eventually leave (for college and/or settling down on their own for example)?

Crosshair, hands down.

No really, he’s a wreck.

Does he cry?

Well, that’s need-to-know.

(Answer: he does)

Point being, Cross’buir struggles. A lot. And he of course has to do something about it.

Stalker sniper Dad, anyone?

—

It’s different with the other boys and their ad’ike.

Hunter’s daughters exude their father’s confidence. They’re natural-born leaders, and while their Papa’s parting sentiments are heart-wrenching, nobody is worried a bit about how any of Sergeant Hunter’s daughters will fare on their own. They’ve been raised right. They have everything they need.

Same with Wrecker’s girls. Bold citizenship and a personality to match. They’ll have no problem integrating into society with their amiable qualities and profoundly better interpersonal skills than that of their daddy’s. They’re a perpetually dynamic duo, and they’ll always have each other.

Tech’s child—the mini genius—is the epitome of independent, a novelty cultivated by the likes of an equally independent parent. Tech is not worried for his child at all; he never has been. They have their wits and the work of their hands, and they can apply themself anywhere, anyhow. Even with graduating the top of their class several years predated. Barely cresting their adolescence, they set out to conquer the world with all initiative, and nobody is worried—except for maybe the sheer lengths to which they will go.

Even Echo, who has always been just shy of overbearing no matter if he’s Uncle or Father, has assured his family have an infallible outlook on life. He makes sure their skills bode well with time.

Crosshair tries to do the same.

And he knows deep down, he shouldn’t worry.

Or maybe he should.

His worries aren’t directed towards his children’s capabilities per se, or his faith in their ability to function. They are his children. They can do anything.

But he worries for his son, who is maybe a bit too gentle, and his daughter, who is quick to caper in the face of trouble.

In their naivety, Crosshair is the one detained by cynicism. Because he knows of the world around him. He made it a point to learn before he ever brought them into it. He knows of malevolent intent, of those cunning and ruthless but who hide behind a saccharine smile and a promise of friendship to his young wandering ad’ika.

It pushes him to the brink.

And so Crosshair establishes contingency; because there’s always been method to his madness.

They don’t make it three rotations without the realization that Dad is staked out from afar, watching their every movement through his oldest and most trusty rifle.

Yes, he “really went there”.

His better half understands. But that doesn’t stop her from reeling him in and pointedly putting a stop to his lurking. He has to let his children live.

He just wants to protect them.

She understands this, too.

Because Crosshair looks at his children and he sees too much of himself. Too much vulnerability, too much determination. Too much compassion, the kind that’s untampered and readily available to all. The kind that’s taken advantage of, wrought and tarnished upon immediately stepping foot out there. He’s still putting himself back together to this day.

And he feels like a squabbling shiny all over again, freshly cleared for the field, setting out with the thunderclouds of Kamino rolling outside the viewport as he breaks atmosphere for the very first time, a misplaced audacity puffing his chest.

And he stops there. He’s projecting too much of his trepidations onto them.

[wovenstarlight]

ok here's some example scenarios for the options from this thread/poll: STW with compasses, SHJ with colormarks, STW with empathy, and SHJ with name tattoos

(also on ao3)

--

Taewon wears long sleeves on purpose. Of course it's part of his work attire, but there's also the fact that he prefers to not know where his soulmates are during his workday, if only for peace of mind.

Unfortunately, he has his jacket off and his shirt sleeves rolled up today to deal with some hands-on work, so it's with great resignation that he watches one of his compasses swing from side to side, faster and faster, until it's mapping movements very close and directly behind him.

He hears the door creak open. "Hello, Chief Song," Sung Hyunjae greets jovially, and Taewon bites back a long, heavy sigh.

*

Sung Hyunjae enters his home, and pleased as he is with the signed kiseungsu contract, he gives in to the tune that's been looping in his head all day and hums softly. This doesn't sound like Soyoung's usual fare; has she discovered a new genre? Either way, as he sheds his coats, he hopes she's not getting distracted on the job. House keys go back in the inventory, shoes are toed off at the door and replaced with the fluffy slippers Evelyn gifted him as a joke, and gloves get pulled off and-

Hyunjae stares at his hand. Vivid pink, splashed across the skin of his palm, stares back at him.

"Ah," Hyunjae says, voice cracking.

*

Taewon watches warily as Sung Hyunjae approaches Han Yoojin and gives him his phone. He doesn't know what Sung Hyunjae is feeling right now; it's hardly as though he can read the man on the best of days, but tonight's emotional cocktail is much harder to decipher than most. There's notes of what feels like simmering frustration in there, which makes Taewon want to shove his way between them and push them apart- but then there's also what feels like... Well, it's a warm sort of feeling, which already makes him reel, but the thing that really freezes his feet in place is that it feels almost like-

Well, almost like fondness.

Taewon watches warily as Han Yoojin hands the phone back with a newly named contact, as Sung Hyunjae changes it, as Han Yoojin stares at him through dull, tired eyes. Taewon feels confusion and exhaustion creeping over him in equal measure, and lets it convince him to leave the duo alone and get back to work.

He doesn't register until much, much later that the confusion and exhaustion wasn't his own.

*

Sung Hyunjae finds it interesting to watch the tattoos reshape themselves on his skin everyday. It's part of his daily routine; right after he washes his face and shaves, he strips off his shirt and takes a moment to examine the names inked on his skin, mapping them against yesterday's and noting where they've changed.

Song Taewon, first and oldest, swooping along his collarbone. The lines are as deliberate and neat as ever, handwriting developed to be readable. But he must have gotten an early start, because they're also a little sharper around the edges today, almost carved into his skin. Hyunjae will focus on guild work, then.

Kang Soyoung, curving across his right shoulder. Her name hasn't been written in English for a long time, but it still pleases him to see the careful Korean letters every day. There's a notch at the top of her Os so that they look almost like hearts. She must be having a good morning; surprising given that she's awake this early. He hopes she slept at least a little.

Moon Hyuna, at the top of his spine. He doesn't know exactly when she wrote herself into his life, what with the location making it hard to notice, but she's placed herself in a (characteristically) playfully antagonistic position. He has a second mirror to check her name, and today, all seems as usual, though it's written in a vibrant red instead of the usual brown. He wonders what that's about.

And last and latest, on his left palm, Han Yoojin. The swooping handwriting is even looser today, spanning more skin, the bar on the H curling around the veins on the inside of his wrist. A good night's rest for him, then. In the afternoon, he'll slip off his glove to check, and the handwriting will be amusingly spiky from dealing with the young monsters. But now, early in the morning, the letters are still soft with sleep, and Hyunjae smiles as he drops the shirt in the laundry basket and goes to fetch his towel.

[birdy-bat-writes]

Forever Love

Word count: 2k

Description: Wally and Dick have loved eachother for a long time. They've said it a few times. How long before they can admit that it's not as friends?

A/N: Happy holidays friends! Dear @river-bottom-nightmare Hi! I'm your secret santa😙😙 so I present to you, a birdflash Fic! I hope you love it!

---------------------------------------------------/

The first time Wally told Dick he loved him was when he and Bruce had a fight. Dick thought he wanted to be alone and turned off his phone, his emergency trackers, everything. He didn't want to be found and he wasn't going to be found. At least that's what he thought. He sat alone on the floor of a Star City back alley and played the words in his head over and over. "When we're out there, you're not my son. You're my partner! If you can't be there when I need you, you don't need to be Robin!" He knows that me messed up, but the mission went fine in the end. He didn't make excuses; he knew his head wasn't in the game but that's just what happens when you're fighting alongside the Titans and balancing that with Dynamic Duo duties. Dick was already harder on himself than Bruce ever could be about it, but he never thought he'd have to hear the words "you're not my son." Is that all he is to Bruce? A crime fighting partner? Then the tears started to fall. The thoughts rang in his head like church bells over the sound of city traffic. It was all too much. Dick thought he wanted to be alone but now...maybe not. I should go ba-

"Hey." Dick looked up to find his favorite red head looking down at him with a soft expression. Civies, smoking sneakers and green eyes. "You okay?" Wally sat down beside him and Dick abandoned all thoughts of leaving.

"How'd you find me?"

"Well, I'm me, and you're you. Not that difficult."

"I turned my trackers off..." Dick was really taking this one hard. No wisecracks, no sarcasm. It wasn't like the other fights he had with Bruce and Wally could tell.

"I knew you wouldn't be in Metropolis or Smallville because you don't want a hug from Superman, you weren't in the mood to talk yet so not Central City, and Star City has the ice cream parlor you like, which is where we're going after I fix this." Wally gestured to Dick's teary eyes. Dick looked up to face Wally for just a second. His smile brought a type of comfort that Dick forgot existed. "What happened?"

"He doesn't want me anymore, Wally."

"Bruce?" Dick just nodded, knowing he couldn't speak the words without choking up. Wally put a comforting arm around his friend's shoulder. "He said, 'when we're out there, you're not my son. You're my partner.' And that I shouldn't be fighting by his side if I can't be there for him all the time."

“That’s not fair of him. You were with the Titans today. He knows that right?”

“He knows, he just doesn’t care.” Dick choked on his words at the end but pushed himself to continue speaking. “Wally, I’m just a teammate to him, to everyone. I’m not his son, I don’t even know how many people actually care about me when the masks are off.”

“Hey, hey…don’t say that. Maybe B acts like an emotionally stunted block of ice, but I know he loves you. Of course, it doesn’t excuse what he said, but you need to know that with masks on or off, we are all your friends. Donna, Garth, Roy, and… me too. You’re like family for us. We love you. I… I love you.” Dick felt his heart clench. He hadn’t heard those words in a long time and couldn’t help but jump right into Wally’s arms for a very tight hug. Wally’s arms felt like home and he never wanted to let go. Wally felt the remaining tears Dick’s eyes soak into his jacket and pulled him tighter. Without pulling even an inch away, Dick asked,

“Wally?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.” They felt each other’s cheeks raise in smiles against the other’s shoulders.

“Glad to hear it, now how about that ice cream?”

----

The second time Wally had told Dick that he loved him was later that year, in the dark of a hospital room well after visiting hours were over. Dick now donned a blue and black suit, accompanied by the moniker of Nightwing. Wally was now the new Scarlet Speedster. Unfortunately, even speedsters couldn’t escape the pain of cavities. Wally was in recovery after a root canal surgery and he wasn’t happy about it.

Wally couldn’t help but worry about the things that could go wrong if the Flash took a day off. Dick on the other hand was more worried about how Wally would fare in surgery. With a metabolism like his, he’d burn through the anesthesia in minutes, and be awake for the rest of the surgery.

“Oh, come on, Dick. I don’t have anesthetics when we’re out being shot at. This will be a piece of cake, so don’t worry, okay?”

When Wally awoke, the whole surgery was complete. He wasn’t in pain either. That’s odd. How-? Oh. Dick. What did he do now? Just then a nurse walked in.

“Oh good, Dear. You’re awake.”

“Uh… Yeah. What did I miss while I was out?” His voice was muffled by the useless cotton balls in his mouth. The nurses couldn’t have known but he was already healed. 4 hours of sleep and speedster healing will do that to you.

“Well, it’s quite an interesting day in Central City. A few blocks down, Nightwing stopped a robbery and helped a family of ducks cross the street.”

“He- he did what? He’s still here?” Wally asked, baffled.

“Oh yes! He seems to have taken over for the Flash today. He’s on TV right now.” Wally scrambled to get the remote. The first thing he saw on the news was Nightwing being interviewed by Iris West-Allen.

“Well Mrs. West, I love helping out my teammates, and besides, I could always use an excuse to visit Central City.” Nightwing flashed his signature smile right into the camera like he knew Wally was watching. This dude… I thought I told him to go back to Gotham… Why do I even try? Wally thought to himself, shaking his head and smiling at his friend’s antics.

Visiting hours had passed and Wally’s parents had just left. He was contemplating sneaking out to get more food when he heard a gentle thud by the window. One that he’d heard a thousand times before.

“Dick, you could have used the front door.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”, Dick responded. “How are you?”

“Hungry. Hospital portion sizes will be the death of me.”

“Well, it’s a great thing that your best friend is as thoughtful as he is handsome.” Dick emptied a plethora of snacks from his backpack on Wally’s bed.

“And this is why I love you.” Wally said it casually, but Dick’s heart skipped a beat anyway. It got him thinking again. He really shouldn’t have worried as much as he did, but he couldn’t help it. He never can when it comes to Wally. “So, what exactly did you put in my drink before the surgery?” Wally asked between mouthfuls of food.

“Specially designed anesthetic to knock you out for 5 hours. Courtesy of a few friends at S.T.A.R. Labs.”

“You spoil me.”

“I didn’t want you to be in pain.”

“I appreciate that.” Wally’s voice was sweeter now. “You didn’t have to go through the trouble, you know.”

“I know. I wanted to.”

“Aww, were you worried about me?”

“I always worry about you. I love you.” It was a sincere, genuine confession that made both their hearts race a little more. Wally mustered the courage to say one more thing. Something that meant the world to both him and Dick.

“You know when I was going under the anesthetic?”

“Yeah?”, Dick replied.

“I was still awake when you held my hand.” Dick grinned in response.

“I know.”, He said. Wally looked up in question. “You held on tighter when I was about to let go, and I knew you were still awake.” The blushes on their cheeks glowed brighter.

“Yeah, well… don’t let go next time then.”

-----

The next time they confessed was on Wally’s 18th Birthday, one month later. A party was planned with a few close friends and family at Wally’s house, but unfortunately, the icy November rain had other plans. Ice laced every road that wasn’t flooded.

Needless to say, Wally was a little disappointed. No one would be coming. Heck, he couldn’t even leave his own house. Dick was still in Gotham getting ready to leave for the party when he heard of the extreme weather in Central City. Knowing the party would most likely be cancelled, he decided to call in a favor.

Wally was sitting in his room when he received Dick’s rather ominous text message. “Get to your balcony.” He listened. He walked up and saw… nothing.

“Um, Dick, what am I looking for exactly?”, he messaged back. Then he heard the whir of the engines and the pressure release on the plane doors.

“You’re looking for me in an invisible plane!”, Dick shouted.

“Is that Wonder Woman’s?!”

“Yeah! Get on.” Wally climbed aboard. He was awestruck. Dick saw the look on Wally’s face and answered the question Wally couldn’t manage to ask.

“Donna owed me a favor, and Diana thinks I’m adorable. I can get away with anything. Now buckle up.”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.” Dick flew Wally up to the Titans Tower where every superhero friend of theirs was there. There were 6 cakes, 2 of them being just for Wally. It was just perfect. Wally cut a slice of cake and brought it out to Dick on the terrace. Against the chilly New York winds, the music inside sounded faint and distant.

“I know you’ve swung around Gotham in the winter in your underwear, but you should still wear a jacket when it’s cold out.”, Wally chimed. “Cake?”

“Thank you very much.” Dick said, taking the plate from his hands.

“Hey, thank you for all of this. Its more than perfect.”

“Don’t mention it, Wall. It’s what I’m for. I’m never going to pass up an opportunity to wipe cake frosting on your nose.” Wally’s heart swelled, seeing Dick smile at him like that. His baby blue eyes had Wally mesmerized.

“Yeah! Just you wait ’till your birthday, I’m getting a whole extra cake to shove in your face.”

“I’ll be waiting.”, Dick chuckled out. “So, I have your present here.” Dick held up a small box and handed it to Wally. “Open it.” Wally undid the red ribbon on the box and lifted the lid to reveal a small coin, the size of a penny with a Flash symbol on it. “I know you lost the souvenir from our first solo mission, but I kept one of the shotgun shells, melted it down, and now,” Dick picked up the coin, “this is for you.” Wally was left speechless. Dick wasn’t one to keep souvenirs from missions. That was Wally’s thing. But he kept this one. And on top of all that, he remembered that Wally wanted to remember their first mission and replaced his lost memento. He couldn’t help it. Wally threw his arms around Dick’s shoulders. Dick wrapped his arms around Wally’s waist and pulled him closer, taking in the scent of his shampoo and cologne. I adore him, they both thought.

“Dick, I love you.”

“I love you too, Wally.” The looked up to face each other, still keeping their bodies close. Wally was the first to lift his fingers and caress Dick’s cheek, and Dick leaned in. The kiss was soft and sweet and lit up a million sparks within them. They didn’t know how long they had waited for this but they had no intention of letting this moment go.

And after that, they lost count. They didn’t have to keep track anymore of how many “I love you’s” were exchanged or kisses were shared. They made a silent promise that night that there would be no end to them and that was enough. Love like that truly was forever.

[shera-dnd]

Cupid’s Kiss

Took me way longer than expected curse the whims of my mental health but the winner of this month’s 3k fic poll is finally here!

In which Carmen and Julia have a lovely totally not date in Paris while in search for two thieves who are certainly also not having a date

if you’d like a chance to get your fic ideas written by me, or just want to support me, you can feel free to donate to my ko-fi (rules over here)

and here is the ao3 link if you’d rather read it over there

also this fic was brought to you thanks to the help of @cantdrawshaw

NOW ON WITH THE FIC

Carmen Sandiego was the best at her job. She had bested trained assassins and killer robots, evaded the world’s most advanced detective agency, and destroyed the largest criminal organization. All in her early twenties.

Yet there was one task she was not prepared to face. One that escaped her skills, both martial and technical. One that she had failed to plan around. One that existed entirely beyond the range of her skills. A foe that she could not beat.

“Come on, Carm,” Zack called, “it can’t be that hard. If even Ivy could score with the girls, you can do it too.”

“Even Ivy?!” His sister replied, furious, “I’ve been with more girls than you, jackass.”

“Guys, guys!” Carmen interrupted, “you’re not helping.”

Mentioning her interest in spending more time with Julia Argent had been the biggest mistake she had made in weeks. This was supposed to be a peaceful day at their old home base, but now here she was.

Her friends were trying so hard to help her and she couldn’t even be mad at how poorly they were doing, because she knew she wouldn’t fare much better were the roles reversed.

“Sorry,” the siblings replied in unison.

“I appreciate the support,” she assured them, “but I’m not trying to ‘score’ with anyone. I just wanna get to know Jules a little better.”

“So this is not a date?” Ivy asked.

“No!” She replied, a little too quickly, “me and Jules aren’t like that. She’s more of a… professional acquaintance. A coworker.”

“Carm,” Zack replied, “we’re coworkers and you’ve never had a bouquet of roses delivered to my door.”

“It was just a thank you for handling all those precious artifacts for me,” she explained, “she’s a hard worker, she deserved it.”

“Sure,” Ivy nodded, unconvinced, “is that why you take time to chat over coffee with her every other caper?”

“Not every moment of our lives has to be a chase, you know?” she countered.

“Or why you keep finding excuses to dance with her?”

“It’s the easiest way to speak privately at those parties without garnering unwanted attention,” she recited as if from a textbook.

“Or why-”

“Cease this!” Shadowsan’s stern voice commanded and the siblings fell silent, “VILE has trained her to never cave under interrogation. You’ll have a better chance extracting information from a rock.”

Carmen smirked at them, proud to have her skills of deflection recognized.

“Do not be so full of yourself,” he added, making Carmen flinch just a bit, “I have taught those lessons for years and I know how to see through them.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she deflected, looking away.

He walked up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder with uncharacteristic gentleness.

“I have seen the happiness Miss Argent brings you,” he said, “and I wish you the best of luck should you wish to pursue it.”

That meant a lot to Carmen. More than she could really express in words. But after she had been so thoroughly embarrassed by her friends, all she could really say was,

“Not you too.”

She looked up at the smirking siblings and braced herself...

“Hey, Red,” Player’s voice called, just in the nick of time.

“Player!” She jumped to attention and grabbed the laptop from their desk.

“Woah!” he exclaimed, “everything okay, Red?”

Zack and Ivy snickered as they sat by each side of her, so they could see Player.

“I think Carm would rather you sent her on a crazy chase instead of sitting here talking about her crush on Jules,” Ivy teased.

“Well it looks like you might get to do both,” Player replied, to Carmen’s dismay, “look who our cameras just found walking around Paris.”

The screen cut to a video feed of one of ACME’s hidden cameras over the streets of Paris. None of the people on camera seemed particularly conspicuous… until a particular pair walked on screen. Even without their costumes Carmen could always recognize them.

“Tigress and Paper Star,” she noted, “those two can’t be up to any good.”

“Looks like we’ll be going to Paris, eh Carm?” Ivy commented as she playfully nudged her side.

“City of love,” Zack added as he joined the nudging.

Carmen groaned. This was gonna be a rough mission.

Chase had grown a lot over the past few months. His deductive reasoning had vastly improved, his mood was far more amenable, and he actually stopped to listen to Julia nowadays. What hadn’t really improved with time was his overall clumsiness. 

“Miss Argent, I’ll be fine,” his insistence was interrupted by a powerful sneeze, “This is nothing.”

“Agent Devineaux, please,” she pleaded, “you’re in no state to continue this investigation.”

Devineaux had landed himself into his fair share of rivers over the months he had worked for ACME, and it seemed that so many cold baths had finally caught up to his health. Not that he would ever admit to that.

“Nonsense,” he claimed, “I’ll be back in perfect shape by the time we land in Paris.”

The sneeze that followed said otherwise.

“Chase, please,” she asked again, “rest. I can handle this.”

“I refuse to send my partner on a mission by herself.”

“As sweet as your concern is,” she countered, “I doubt I’ll be by myself for long.”

“Ah yes, I’m sure La Femme Rouge will make for good company,” he agreed and she was glad he did, but it sounded like there was more to his words. “Were you anyone else I’d worry this was all a ploy to have some private time with Miss Sandiego.”

She shot him an unamused glare.

“Apologies,” he said almost immediately.

“Accepted,” she sighed, “but I do not appreciate any insinuations as to the nature of me and Miss Sandiego’s relationship. We’re good friends, nothing more.”

“Of course,” he nodded, but Julia could tell he had more to say.

Truly his detective skills have improved considerably as of late. It had become harder and harder for Julia to pass her excitement for those missions as simple passion for her work. Not when she had abandoned that work as soon as it conflicted with her passion for… something else.

Chase was her friend and she knew he’d understand her feelings for Carmen. She was also sure he’d do his best to keep it a secret until she was confident enough to bring these things to light. She trusted him and she didn’t fear anything of the sorts.

What she did fear was Chase trying to wingman for her. Just the thought was enough to fill her with dread. Enough dread to keep her mouth shut about her feelings in the vicinity of Agent Devineaux. Even if it felt bad to hide this from her friend.

Thankfully the Chief chose that exact moment to call her to give her updated information on their targets. 

Now she could just shut off all these awkward feelings and focus on her work.

The Louvre had been an obvious target. The world’s most famous museum, home to thousands of priceless works of art, including the Mona Lisa itself. It was so obvious in fact that VILE had never bothered to consider it.

But VILE was gone now and its escaped students no longer had any faculty to dissuade them from this target.

That’s why Carmen now walked its halls, diligently searching for any security flaws that could be exploited and any sign of the two master thieves on the loose.

She still took time to appreciate the art of course. This was the most famous museum in the world for a reason and she wasn’t gonna let this unique opportunity escape her, even with the evil duo to watch for.

Carmen had her attention split in every possible direction, her mind juggling its many tasks as she wandered hall after hall. Until, that is, she found something that pulled her focus into one singular point.

A shorter woman in a nice fitted suit, standing before one of the statues.

“Jules,” she greeted as she walked up behind her.

“Miss Sandiego,” Julia smiled as she greeted her, utterly unsurprised. She must have been expecting her, “it’s nice to see you here.”

“It’s nice seeing you too,” she replied, “and we went over this before, Carmen is just fine.”

“Carmen,” she said, in a way that warmed Carmen’s heart, “I take it you’ve been enjoying your time in Paris.”

“Hard to go sightseeing while I’ve got work to do, but I’m making do,” she shrugged, “how about you? What caught your attention today?”

Julia turned back to the statue she had been appreciating until then, “Psyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss.”

Carmen smirked, it was her time to shine.

“Sculpted by Antonio Canova, commissioned by welsh art-collector John Campbell in 1787,” she recited from memory, “its prime version was acquired by the Louvre in 1824 after the death of its previous owner, Joachim Murat.”

“Very impressive,” Julia praised, “I wish my students put half as much time as you do into their research.”

“I’m just good at memorizing trivia,” Carmen shrugged, trying to hide her pride at earning that praise, “I’m sure you know so much more than me on the subject.”

Boy was Carmen right about that. That seemed to have been the cue to send Julia into a long lecture about the neoclassical and romantic periods, as well as an analysis of the sculpture’s mythological origins and the many interpretations of the myth.

Many people would probably find this amount of information unspeakably tedious. But for Carmen, who was always hungry to learn about the world around her (and could never get tired of Jules speaking so enthusiastically,) it was exciting and endearing.

Carmen had realized then that she wanted nothing more than to spend her every waking hour listening to Julia talk on and on about anything she wanted, as long as it was passionate like this. Maybe someday soon.

Right now they had the whole rest of the Louvre to scout.

“Alright, alright, victory is yours,” Carmen playfully interrupted, “I guess you really are the biggest history nerd here.”

“Oh I’m sorry, it seems I got a bit carried away,” Julia cringed in shame. Damn it Sandiego! “I didn’t mean to bore you.”

“You couldn’t bore me if you tried,” Carmen assured her as she placed a hand on her arm, “I mean it. It’s nice hearing you talk.”

“Unfortunately I no longer teach,” she replied, “otherwise I would have given you an open invitation to any of my classes.”

“Well, how about you show me around the place?” she suggested, “we can call this a private lesson.”

At that Julia smiled again, “then I hope your memory is as good as you say it is, Carmen Sandiego, because I’ll be quizzing you at the end of the tour.”

They both laughed as Julia led them along to the next art piece in what was clearly a meticulously planned tour of the museum. Jules kept her teacher face on for all of her little lectures, but as they walked from room to room it felt so simple and casual.

For once Carmen felt like there was no rush and that she could just enjoy her time with someone she cared about. Maybe that was the moment. Her chance to make something out of this and let Julia know how she felt.

“Hey, Jules,” she called, walking a little closer to her.

“Yes?” Julia turned to look at her, she seemed surprised by the sudden closeness, but did not move away from her.

Carmen decided to take that as a good sign.

“This has been really nice, you know?” she tried, her usual confidence failing her, “just spending time with you like this.”

“I guess it was,” she replied with- Wait, was that a blush? No, that had to be wishful thinking.

“Yeah,” she agreed, awkwardly scratching the back of her neck, “and I just feel like-”

It was then that she was rudely reminded of what she was here to do.

“-you have got to be kidding me!”

“What?” Julia jumped a little in surprise.

“5 o’clock, behind you,” Carmen instructed.

She turned to look and there they were. Tall, blonde and scheming, and short, monochromatic and homicidal. The two thieves they were here to catch. Two thieves that had also noticed them.

They both smirked at them for a moment, before Paper Star whispered something into Tigress’s ear and they both bolted in separate directions.

“I go for Tigress, you go for Paper Star,” Carmen ordered as she bolted after her target.

Tigress was the fastest of the two, and the one most likely to pull dirty tricks on them. Unfortunately for her, Carmen was well-versed in all of those tricks, and of course had all her equipment on her. It’s amazing how much she could hide in just a red hoodie.

Soon Tigress had led the both of them out of the main building, ready to make a run for it and disappear into the city. Her mistake though, was going somewhere Carmen could use her grappling hook without worrying about damaging priceless works of art.

She swung after her, quickly closing the distance and knocking her down with a kick to the stomach. Tigress groaned as she forced herself back up, but instead of running again or getting ready to fight Carmen, she simply shouted.

“Come on!”

“Done running around?” Carmen taunted.

“Yeah yeah whatever,” she replied. Well that was unusual, “did you girlfriend catch Paper Star already?”

“What!?” She nearly jumped in surprise, “She’s not- we’re not- that doesn’t matter! You’re going to jail, for good this time.”

“For what?” she replied.

“Trying to steal from the Louvre!”

“Ah yes, because that’s the only reason we’d be enjoying some time together in the city of love,” she mocked and rolled her eyes.

Was she implying what she thought she was implying?

“Aww, babe,” a voice above them called. Paper Star leaned out of a nearby window and openly teased her partner in crime.

Babe?

“She caught you already?” she continued

Tigress groaned again, “not my fault you got easy mode.”

Paper Star jumped down and casually hooked her arms around Tigress’s neck.

“Well I’ve won,” she declared, “now where’s my prize?”

The last thing Carmen expected was for the two of them to kiss right there in front of her, and yet that was exactly what they did.

“I did not need to see that!” She complained.

“You were the one who interrupted our date!” Tigress complained back.

“Do you seriously want me to believe that you two were just spending the evening together in the Louvre as a date?”

“Was that not what you and your little agent were doing too?” Paper Star teased.

Carmen’s reflex was to say no, but… was that what they were doing? They had been walking around, sightseeing, talking and laughing and enjoying each other’s company and- oh god Carmen almost confessed to her back there. 

This was her chance to have a proper date with Jules and it got ruined right at the finish line because of a mission that didn’t even exist in the first place!

She would have time to figure all of this out later, right now she had a job to do and two smug assholes to put in their place. Thankfully she already knew just how to do that.

“You’re right, it was very rude of me to interrupt your romantic evening,” Carmen raised her hands in surrender and backed away, “how about you two get back to what you were doing and I can arrest you both tomorrow?”

“What?” Tigress challenged, “no romantic chase over the rooftops of Paris?”

“I’m sure your girlfriend would love that,” Paper Star added.

“Actually I think Julia would rather just have you behind bars,” she shrugged.

Right on cue the ACME’s blue sleep gas finally reached the both of them, making them both drop on the spot. It was kinda cute how they were put to sleep still holding each other. Carmen almost felt bad for arresting them. Almost.

She pulled her grappling hook again and launched herself through the open window above, landing right next to a very proud Julia Argent.

“Two for one,” Carmen praised, “at this rate, pretty soon you won’t be needing my help anymore.”

“I appreciate the compliment, but I had my partner down there to keep them in place,” Julia replied playfully. Carmen’s heart skipped a beat at the word ‘partner’, even though she knew she meant it as coworkers.

“Always happy to play distraction for you, Jules,” she played along.

Taking another step forward, Carmen felt her sense of balance completely leave her as she accidentally inhaled some sleep gas fumes. 

She tumbled forward, but before she hit the ground she felt Julia’s arms holding her up. It took her a second to shake away the effects of the gas, and another second to process the position they were in. How Julia was holding her like she had just dipped her in a dance.

For a moment they froze, staring into each other’s eyes as they held onto each other, until finally Julia helped her up again.

“I’m so sorry about that,” Julia apologized as she tried to fix up Carmen’s scuffed clothes.

“It’s fine,” Carmen assured her, “I should’ve been more careful around the sleep gas.”

Still Julia fussed over her, readjusting Carmen’s hoodie as she muttered a few more apologies. It took her a moment to notice just how close they were both standing now. The realization made her jump back a bit on reflex, but still she remained considerably close to Carmen.

She took a moment to collect herself before finally asking, “so uh- you had something you wanted to tell me?”

Carmen sighed in relief. Good to know those two hadn’t completely destroyed her chances.

“I just wanted to say that I really enjoyed our time together today,” she admitted, “before we got interrupted that is.”

Julia gave her a genuine smile that made her heart stop, “I enjoyed our time too. It’s nice to be able to talk about these things outside of work.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, feeling her confidence return bit by bit, “wanna do that again sometime? Maybe over some coffee.”

Jules seemed surprised at first as she caught on to what Carmen meant, but that expression was quickly replaced by a playful smile.

“Carmen Sandiego,” she called, “are you asking me out on a date?”

“Nothing escapes ACME’s best detective,” she joked, “I guess I am.”

“Then I’ll have to ask you to wait a little for my answer,” she asked.

Carmen opened her mouth to say that she was more than fine with waiting however long she needed, but she was frozen mid motion when Julia’s lips met her own. A quick, sweet little peck. 

“I want to finish our first before we plan the second.”

[luzarya]

To You, I give these Flowers of my Love

Yuu x Vil

Summary: Through (mostly) Vil's pov as he goes through the training and VDC, as he slowly realizes his love for Yuu, a little too late.

Ao3 link: here

warnings:

part: 2/2

-> (first)

word count: 6,004

-

Vil was unsure of how to feel at the moment. He had checked up on the potatoes in training after Yuu had fainted in the bathroom. Normally, he would have disregarded the entire ordeal, yet, he couldn’t shake off the scene that had laid before him as Yuu had fallen into his arms.

Blood was oozing from their mouth, along with pink and yellow flower petals. The sink was filled to the brim with them, the stench of blood almost enough to overwhelm his senses. No matter how he looked at it, it was an urgent emergency, one that needed immediate medical attention, lest death befall on the prefect.

Everyone was shaken from the event.

He could only hope that everyone would be able to steer their mind away from what had happened. He knew he wouldn’t be able to, but it was of utmost importance that he should.

He walked over to the window, the once abandoned dorm giving him a sense of odd comfort. It was no five star hotel, nor was it his dorm room, yet it was just enough. He could see a bit of Yuu’s personality shine through each room. At the windowsill, there was a small plant. It was a succulent, a plant that hardly needed watering until the soil was completely dry.

Right across from the window was a painting of sorts, one that hadn’t been there before. He knew it didn’t belong, the painting depicting flowers, the glowing paint painted in such a way that they looked similar to the will-o-wisps. That, and there was a signature at the bottom right of the painting, stylistic written to say YUU.

It was charming, to say the least.

He let out a sigh. It was rather late into the evening, yet the anxiety that had swelled up in his stomach prevented him from getting any sleep. A small part of him wondered how Yuu was doing, and if they were fine.

Although, time could only tell.

0

Training was a good way to numb the mind from the unnecessary. Not having Yuu around made things only ever so slightly harder, as Vil often found himself about to say their name when they were going to request them to do a task- turn on the radio, get us some towels, grab us some water, and all that a manager was to do.

And every time he almost did, he’s reminded of the painful situation that Yuu was somehow in. He didn’t quite show it, but he indeed cared for them as much as the rest of the ‘potatoes’. Despite Yuu’s small role as manager, they did have an impact on the others, fitting for the one called Beast Tamer. The difference in performance was slight, but it was there, no doubt caused by Yuu’s absence.

Yet, Vil couldn’t bring himself to berate Ace, or Deuce, or Kalim about it (Jamil performed just as usual, he noted). Not when he, too, depended on Yuu in some sort of way.

It had been a few days since he last saw Yuu, and the VDC was coming closer still. The only update he was told came from Crowley himself- that Yuu was undergoing a surgery to ‘cure’ them of their condition. He had briefly inquired about Yuu’s illness, yet Crowley was unable to give a proper answer.

“I’ll have yet to receive permission to talk of the qualities that Dorm Prefect Yuu bears in terms of what is ailing them… However, all that I may say is that it had come from the world in which they were brought forth in.  Worry not, it is not contagious, as it relates to their wellbeing and how they were created.”

As if that had eased his worries. In between sessions and checking who was number one on Mira, Vil had begun to think of what kind of disease or illness that Yuu could possibly have. He couldn’t get rid of that night. He could still painfully hear Yuu’s loud fit of coughs, or their groans of despair. The fact that he hadn’t noticed until it was too late had hurt him even more.

He couldn’t properly take care of the manager, how could he properly care for the rest of the ‘potatoes’? What if-

No. Vil wouldn’t allow himself to think of such a way. Not now. No matter how much he wanted to think of Yuu.. because…

He, and his team, will defeat Neige Leblanc.

He’ll see to it that they do.

0

The day that Yuu had returned, Vil was more than relieved. To know that Yuu had returned safe and sound was more than he could ask for. The anxiety that once took hold in his stomach had disappeared nearly completely with Yuu’s arrival. The ounce that remained quietly nagged him, that there was something that was off, something wrong.

Yuu wasn’t the same Yuu as before.

He didn’t bring it however, and he made sure to let the others go see Yuu before him, Ace and Deuce the first ones to see Yuu, right after Grim. He wasn’t sure if Kalim and Jamil had taken a chance to go check on Yuu, but he had a sneaking suspicion that the two had gone to sleep before even knowing Yuu was here. He didn’t blame them, since training was still as strenuous as ever.  They needed all the strength that they could get.

Vil stood in front of what was obviously Yuu’s door. It was hard to miss, the door painted with an array of flowers, glowing will-o-wisps, as well as small, glowing fairies. No other door had such a great amount of detail.  Although he did question the choice of flowers, the very same ones that had brought Yuu into a coughing fit so violent, that they coughed up blood. Charming, at first glance, haunting once you knew the fact.

“Shall we go in, Roi du Poison?”

Rook stood next to him, giving Vil his a small, genuine smile. Vil, in return, offered one of his own. It was reassuring to have Rook there with him, the hunter always there whenever Vil needed any help of some sort.

“Yes, of course,” Vil replied. He quietly exhaled, placing his hand on the cold bronze doorknob, twisting it. The door opened slowly, but the two were hit with a strong floral scent.

The duo entered Yuu’s room, taking in the sight that had laid before them.

The normally energetic Yuu was sitting in their bed, their hands stroking Grim’s fur, as they scrolled through their phone. Yuu looked up at them, their weary eyes clearly telling them of how exhausted they were.  Vil knew he couldn’t stay long, despite what the urge to stay and comfort them told him.

“How are you faring, Trickster?” Rook looked over Yuu with a great deal of concern, taking a glance to the two flower pots that sat next to the bed. Vil had to follow Rook’s line of vision to see them, the flowers almost obscured by the bed had Vil not turned his head ever so slightly.

The flowers were the same as those in the sink, but without the blood.

It was faint, but both Rook and Vil could smell the cleaning agents that were used to remove the blood. Rook was not there when Yuu had fallen, but he was there to witness the aftermath. There was a clear connection between Yuu and the sudden appearance of flowers, yet neither of them knew what it was other than it was there.

“I’m doing much better, Rook,” Yuu spoke, their voice hoarse and scratchy. “Just recovering is all.”

“If I may, what kind of surgery did they have to perform?” Vil stared at their eyes. Just moments before there was a brightness, but it had faded the moment he entered the room. Vil could tell that something else was amiss, yet he couldn’t place his finger as to what it was.

“Ah, they’ve removed the flowers out of my lungs.” Yuu looked down, petting the snoozing Grim. Before either Rook or Vil could ask another question, Yuu continued, “I decided to keep the flowers, as a reminder of my…” Yuu paused for a moment, the silence hanging heavy in the air, “Ah, no matter. In any case, the reason why flowers grew in my lungs was because we’re born with them. They usually don’t cause any problems, although removing them before they bloom is somewhat frowned upon, so we keep them.”

“Why in the name of the Seven would anyone keep the seeds in?” Vil didn’t understand the sentiment, although he knew that the world that Yuu had came from was different from the one they were currently in. It never occurred to him just how different it was.

Yuu averted their eyes, shifting in their bed, “Ah, I would like to answer your question, but…”

“I see,” Vil replied, noticing Yuu’s discomfort, “ We’ll let you get some proper rest, then. Sleep well, Yuu.” Vil could see there was something that was troubling Yuu, noticing that their eyes were beginning to water. “Let’s go, Rook.”

“Good night, Trickster.” Rook gave a slight bow, and the two then left the room, closing the door quietly behind them. Just as expected, the two could hear the stifled cries that were muffled through the door. The two looked at one another, concern lacing their expressions.

“We should go, Vil. I don’t believe it would be best for us to remain much longer.”

Vil let out a small sigh, yet he understood, “You’re right, Rook. We should prepare for bed ourselves.”

Rook tipped his hat, giving one last farewell before he left, leaving Vil alone in the hall. Vil lingered for a moment more, hearing another quiet wail rip through the room, softened by the door. He felt pity for them, truly, he did. He didn’t know what Yuu was going through, but it was obvious enough that there was emotional pain behind it all that made it worse. He wondered if there was anything he could do, but all he could was to leave Yuu alone, as they had requested.

Vil then walked over to his room, feeling a deep pain in his chest, unsure of what to make of the feeling.

0

The day of the VDC had come, and Vil felt a small amount of anxiety pulse through his veins. Today would be the day that he’ll finally be number one, and all his hard work would pay off. Everything was perfect and ready to go, although Vil had found that his mind had at times wandered in curiosity of Yuu’s wellbeing. He supposed it was natural, as Yuu had been a slight help in their duty as manager. After everyone saw Yuu, Vil could see that everyone was back to their high spirits.

He was in the middle of preparing for the rehearsal, overseeing the progress that everyone was making, giving last minute advice to those who had needed it, and everything he possibly could to have a better chance of beating Neige Leblanc. It was going well, as Neige Leblanc had yet to arrive (although, it would be awhile or anyone non-related to NRC to arrive).

Vil continued on with his task, until it was noon, when Yuu was to come over and see them. Everyone had their reservations, him especially, knowing that Yuu had recently gone through a surgery. No doubt they were still dealing with the aftermath of it all. Yet, Yuu pushed- stating that they wanted to see them perform, as a way to keep their mind from the events that had led up to the surgery. With that said by the dorm prefect, no one, not even Vil, could deny Yuu’s request.

So here they were, being told off by a staff member that only staff can enter the area.

“The potato and monster are our staff. I have handed them the staff pass.” On cue, Yuu holds up their staff pass, albeit weakly. Vil didn’t comment on it, knowing that Yuu was still recovering.

The unnamed staff member quickly apologizes, allowing Yuu and Grim to enter.

“Thank you, Vil,” Yuu gives a small bow of appreciation.

Vil turns to face Yuu, who was smiling happily, their eyes seeming to sparkle and their smile rather adorable. Vil could feel the happiness radiate off of them, influencing him to smile as well. At least, he thought, they were doing much better than the previous night.

“How brave of you to show up as the last one, Manager.”

Yuu’s smile became a tad more devilish, their former self unearthing a little bit more. “Well, I did get caught up with Prefect Riddle on my way here, Prefect Schoenheit.”

“Are you enjoying the festival?” Vil shifted his body, focusing more on Yuu. Their presence gave them a sense of calm. It was only now did Vil realize how much he missed Yuu, despite meeting them just a few weeks ago.

“Yep! Seeing what the other club’s had to offer was pretty neat.”

Before Vil could ask a question, Rook showed up, smiling as usual. Grim, who was unnoticed until now,  made a comment about the amount of people outside the venue, as the rest of the team gathered around Yuu. The conversation continued, about the VDC and how their performance would go. Vil was pleased to know that they still had confidence, after all, it would be key for the performance.

Yet, before it could go any further, the chatter was interrupted by a dreadfully sweet voice.

“Vi-kun?”

It was Neige. Oh how wonderful.

“I knew it! It was you!” Neige came closer, Vil distraught by his appearance. He could hear the ‘potatoes’ talk behind him, making mostly comments about Neige. He could feel his blood boil, annoyed by Neige’s appearance. He only served as a reminder that Vil was not the fairest of them all.

Forced into a conversation, Vil complied and reluctantly replied to Neige’s statements. It ended rather quickly when he had to go upon the stage for the rehearsal. He couldn’t steal a glance from Yuu, but he walked upon the stage nonetheless. He’ll steal their breath away, he was sure of it.

They performed, the rehearsal  going very well, the group managing to capture the attention of all. The staff sang their praises, one even asking for an interview, and another asking for a recording. Once consenting to the video, everyone could see the amount of likes and views skyrocket the moment it was uploaded.

As everyone was scrutinizing their performance, Vil walked off to the side, alone. Pulling out his phone, he said, “Oh, Mira, Mira, tell me.”

His phone vibrated, the automated feminine voice ringing out, “Yes, what would you like to search?”

“Now at  this moment, who is the most beautiful in the world?”

“ “Beautiful” Number of No. 1 mention,  Account… The search result on the WEB regarding this is…”

The robotic voice paused for a moment, Vil patiently waiting for it’s response.

“It’s Vil Schoenheit,” the robotic voice rang. Vil widened his eyes, surprised by the results, no doubt aided by the sneak peek of the rehearsal. Yet, he was not displeased, rather, he let out a small chuckle, very much pleased by the results. Finally, at last, he was number one. He was, 100%, the fairest of them all.

Words couldn’t describe the immense joy that Vil had felt right then and there.

“Alright, next! The representatives of Royal Sword Academy, please standby!”

Neige and his friends went up the stage, and began to perform. Vil’s happiness was short lived, seeing how everyone fawned over the sloppy performance. The performance captured all of the hearts of the staff, a swelling hatred taking hold in Vil’s gut. The staff began to ask many questions as soon as the students from the sword academy were done. It was obvious that they were enamored by their rather uncoordinated performance, yet it had its own charm that had captured their hearts.

Vil knew this all too well.

Vil stared at Neige as the scene unfolded before him, as Neige answered the questions. ]

“Vil… Vil?”

Vil snapped out of it, turning to Rook, “Huh…?”

“What’s the matter? You’re pale, are you unwell?”

Vil shook his head, “I’m quite alright, there is nothing to worry about.” He let out a sigh, “This wasn’t worth a watch, I’ll be heading back to my dressing room.”

Vil left the scene, Rook and the rest of the team looking at his disappearing figure with great concern. As that happened, Grim watched the Ramshackle prefect’s body still, their eyes becoming glassy.

“Yuu?” Grim pawed at the prefect, garnering the attention of their friends.

Yuu’s eyes returned to normal, as they clutched their head, “Ah…. this…”

“Yuu-san, are you alright?” Epel gave a worried glance, fiddling with their hands.

“Are you hungry?”   Grim climbed onto Yuu, their claws digging into the fabric rather harshly. Yuu weakly brought their arms up in order for Grim to settle into their arms, giving the troublesome cat a smile.

It took some time to dispel their friend’s concerns, as a loud voice boomed to let everyone know it was lunch time. Quickly, Yuu followed to where Vil had vanished, entering the stone halls quietly as they could. Yuu still held onto Grim tightly, as they complained about the fact they were not getting lunch.

Passing through, they noticed a broken phone, as they finally reached where Vil was. Hiding, Yuu could hear a conversation happening, between Neige and Vil. Yuu could practically hear venom sweetly dripping from Vil’s voice, as he offered Neige a beverage.

A poisoned apple cider, by the looks of it.

Yuu stared, their body freezing up from the realization. Fortunately, there was someone to intervene, Rook coming through and taking the beverage away from Neige, much to the astonishment of Vil.

Rook urged Neige to run off, and he did, as Vil simply stood there, bewildered, Yuu still hiding away. Just as Rook was about to take a sip of the poisoned drink, another person intervened, slapping the drink from Rook’s grasp.

“YOU CAN’T!”

Kalin stood over the shattered glass, Rook and Vil now noticing the presence of Yuu and Grim, Kalim huffing from his previous actions.

Yet, their actions didn’t calm the rage that was flowing through Vil’s veins, as Yuu simply remained quiet as the conversation continued without their input. The poisoned juice began to move, the air becoming thick with darkness,

Yuu could see Vil unfold, hearing Rook’s warnings of Vil’s unique magic as Yuu heard the tragic words that had spilled from their soulmate’s mouth.

“Please… Don’t look…! Don’t look at me with such eyes! Why?! I just wanted to be the most beautiful in the world, and yet… I’m unsightly! Ugly! Unfitting!”

Vil could feel despair overtake his emotions, his mental state deteriorating as he felt the harsh changes that befall upon his body. He was never beautiful, why did he ever think of that? Why did he put all that effort to be number one, even though he knew he’ll always be overshadowed?

Everyone stood in horror upon the realization that Vil was going through an overblot, as they tried to calm him down. Yet, their voices never reached Vil’s ears, the cursed vapor making it too unbearable to tolerate,  forcing everyone’s bodies to freeze and remain where they were, as Vil’s voice bounced off the walls as he explained the effects of the curse, though his thoughts were elsewhere.

Fate had other plans, however, as Jamil swooped in with the magical carpet, saving them from the curse fully taking effect. With the few remaining strength, everyone got on the flying carpet and swiftly left the hall.

The outside didn’t fare any better, the sun’s light blocked by the cursed mist, not a single soul to be seen.  Absolutely deserted, fortunately. The mystery had been answered by Jamil, saying that he had used his skills to convince everyone to leave the area, having a bad feeling about what was to come.

Not a moment later did Ace, Deuce, and Epel return, to tell everyone of what they had experienced. They had managed to get any loiters away, the mist covering as soon as they finished the job.

It was only a minute later did Vil emerge in his overblot state. His emotions were haywire, spiraling out of control. Standing proud, he started to attack his team, his negative emotions making his magic stronger than ever.

The group decided it would be best to fight Vil in his overblot state and the ink-like creature behind him- at least, until reinforcements came.

Yuu had to keep a distance, something of which deepened the pain that Vil felt deep inside his gut. Vil let out a loud exclamation of his beauty as everyone got into position to battle the oveblot.

It was a tedious battle, each magic hit taking more and more out of everyone, except for Yuu as they kept hidden. So long it was, that it came to a point where everyone was panting from exhaustion, just about to give out, hopeless.

“Bet the Limit!”

Deuce launched his unique magic, shocking everyone, including Vil as his overblot was brought to an end. Memories came flooding into Yuu, and as before, like with every overblot, it was those of Vil.

Memories of his childhood as a child actor, how he was bullied for playing as the bully of the main protagonist. Of how he was always, without exception, casted as the villain. Yuu could feel their heart throb from the pain from the many years of being ignored in favor of others.

Vil dropped to the ground, his body making a loud thud as it came into contact with the ground. The shadow that once loomed over him was gone, taking its place was a single, dark gem. It was both Rook and Yuu who had rushed to Vil’s body, everyone taking the opportunity to catch their breath after the long, exhausting fight.

“Vil… Oh my beautiful Vil,” Rook grabbed ahold of Vil’s body as Yuu peered over, their eyes watery. “Please open your eyes.”

Vil groaned, pressing his hand against his temple as he tried to recollect what had happened. Yuu gushed over, their cries loud and tearful.

“You had us all worried!”

“Yuu, careful, you’ve recently came out-”

“Oh, like I care, Rook!” Yuu silenced him, looking back to Vil as he clutched his head even harder from the excess noise.

Kalim came over, too, in tears as he sniffed, “I’m so glad,” a hiccup, “Vil! Please don’t worry us like that!”

Everyone fussed over Vil as he tried to get his bearings. It took a few minutes of everyone’s chatter did Vil piece together what had happened, as Epel made a comment, remarking his overblot as a tantrum.

After some more chatter, the group brought up a rather good question: how were they going to fix the area?

Vil’s overblot had caused great damage, the entire stadium in shambles.

The question hung in the air as everyone began to panic. The VDC will become an absolute disaster should they be unable to fix the stadium in time.

As luck would have it, their savior came in the form of the Malleus Draconia, of which had become friends with the then-energetic Yuu. The moment the all-powerful fae had entered, bypassing the cursed barrier that Vil has brought up earlier, all eyes were on him as Yuu called him by Tsunotarou, eliciting shocked responses from all.

Yuu gave a full rundown as what had happened, as everyone either listened or did their own thing. Vil sat next to Rook on the broken stage, a gnawing envy eating away at his stomach. He only recognized the emotion, but could not place a finger as to why he felt such a way.

Malleus, now having a better grasp of the situation at hand, used his magic to fix the entire area, stating that Vil would owe him. Hearing that, Vil furrowed his head in confusion.

With a simple phrase, Malleus returned the stadium back to its original state, clean and free of debris.

Yuu continued to talk with Malleus, still calling them Tsunotarou despite now knowing their true name. The envy seemed to grow in Vil’s stomach as he saw the exchange, averting his eyes and turning back to Rook.

It soon came the time to perform, everyone getting ready for it. Vil was still in pain, although he hid it that no one, outside of the team of course, could tell that he was injured to begin.

The actual competition was harsh, each team giving their all. The music was loud, and everyone cheered for each team. There was a strong tension in the air from the competitors, yet there was a tinge of hopelessness, as everyone knew it would be either NRC or RSA who would win. This did not deter the competitors from giving their all, however, and all gave their best.

The voting then came, the audience tense themselves as they voted for what they thought was the best group. No one said a word, the only audible thing being the instrumental music blasting throughout the stadium. Yuu clutched their phone in anticipation, drops of sweat forming at the top of their forehead. Grim was of no help, their body heat only making it worse for Yuu. It didn’t help that soon after their friend’s performance was done, Vil had fallen as Rook called for some cooling spray and bandages.

Malleus sat next to them, their presence only bringing a small sense of comfort, Lilia carefully explaining to Malleus on how to vote, Silver and Sebek nearby, calm and collected.

The announcer came upon the stage, everyone now paying attention to them. The person held out an envelope, their voice replacing the music that once was heard.

“Oh my! The difference between first and second is by one vote!”

Yuu felt their headache becoming worse at the fact, already feeling the dread that, perhaps, their friends and Vil did not win the competition.

“Royal Sword Academy!”

Yuu could already feel the tears starting to form in the corner of their eyes, their arms pressing harder against Grimm’s small body.

“Hey! Watch it, I ain’t no stress ball, Yuu!”

Yuu looked down, and their worries eased, if only slightly. “Sorry, I’ll give you some tuna, okay?”

Grumbling, Grimm remarked that he best receive twice the amount than usual to compensate for the harsh squeezing.

Yuu could hear Neige’s voice amongst the sudden chatter, as he and the dwarves took the stage once more. Near them, Yuu also heard the voices of their friends as they expressed their astonishments, surprised at the entire outcome.

As being near the stage, due to being the manager for Vil and his group, Yuu had perfect access to the entirety of what was happening.

The words that had come out from Rook surprised them- voting for RSA? His vote likely being the tiebreaker? With this newfound information, Yuu felt a swell of emotions, all negative, yet their mind was blank as well. They didn’t know how to react, and certainly Vil did not either.

Despite their obvious loss, Neige came over to the group, speaking his truths to them, stating how the performance was something that only they, Vil and company, were capable of. As expected, everyone was speechless, unsure of how to quite respond to such praises.

Although, the next thing that Neige had brought up was… quite unexpected. Rook being a Neige fan was certainly surprising, Yuu’s anxiety washing away as it was replaced with that of laughter.

Neige then encouraged Vil to dance with him, the crowd in an uproar at the sight of the two holding hands. Vil, albeit very reluctantly, danced, keeping up a professional charade through it all.

The VDC then came to an end, Yuu quickly went backstage to meet up once again with their friends. Everyone was fine, though solemn from their loss. Vil was affected the most, still reeling in from the effects from the overblot, as well with Neige’s words.

Neige did have a point, but it still felt rather… odd, to day the least, to hear words of comfort from someone you would consider as a rival.

“How are you faring, Vil?” Yuu asked softly, their eyes half lidded, as if they were to fall asleep then and there.

“I’m all fine, Yuu,” Vil answered, hiding his injury. “No need to worry.”

Yuu’s eyes turned to a glare, their harshness causing Vil to flinch. “Now, listen, you,” Yuu spoke in a low tone, “I didn’t get surgery to remove these damn flowers to live for you only to tell me that you’re fine. You’re obviously not, Vil. Spill . Tell me what ails you.”

Vil only let out a small chuckle at Yuu’s statement, although it was not like he didn’t appreciate it- he truly did, it was just that he didn’t believe Yuu would be so aggressive about it. Yuu’s glare only became colder, as Vil let out a cough.

“Well, if you truly must know,” Vil leaned back on the wall, “It does hurt, but no need to worry. It’s not something that I can’t handle.

Yuu sighed loudly, shaking their head. “I’ll come by your room later on to give you something, alright? Once this festival ends for the day.”

“Hm? May I ask, what would it be?”

“Just something small, you’ll see,” Yuu glanced around, “Well, I don’t want to steal you from everyone else,” a small laugh, “So I’ll see you later Vil, please take care.”

Yuu gave a small bow, and then went off to meet with Ace and Deuce, already easing their way into their conversation.

Vil felt the envy come back, although small, as he watched just how Yuu conversed with their friends. Vil didn’t realize that Rook had tried to talk to him until the hunter in question began calling his name out various times.

“Mon ami, are you fine?”

“Ah, yes. I am, why do you ask, Rook?”

Rook’s worried expression was enough for Vil to understand, that he had been acting off, and truly, who else better to notice than his friend of two years?

“Roi du Poison, you have not been acting like your former self since what had happened. Is there anything that you need?”

Vil shook his head, appreciating his friend’s words. Rook may have been a secret Neige fanboy, perhaps like Neige even more than him, yet Vil knew that the friendship between the two of them was genuine. “Thank you, but there is no need.”

“Now, let us enjoy this festival, there is much left to see, is there not?”

0

The dorm was calm, the sound of jazz playing quietly in the background. Of course, the source of the jazz came from the ghosts as they fooled around in the dorm.

And true to Yuu’s word, they were outside of Vil’s room, a small pot of pink roses and yellow daffodils in their hands. Knocking against the wooden door, they waited.

Vil opened the door, the young man still dressed as neatly as ever.

“Good evening, Vil.”

Vil smiled softly, and replied as softly, “Good evening to you as well, Yuu.” He noticed the flowers, and raised a brow in confusion. These were the same flowers that had grown inside Yuu’s lungs…

“May I ask, are those for me?” Vil didn’t quite know what to do with such flowers, much less with the burden of the knowledge of their origins.

“Yes,” Yuu replied, their voice having a certain sadness to it, “they are.” Yuu pushed the pot into Vil’s hands, as the receiver awkwardly held the tragic flowers.

“Are these not the flowers that caused you your problem?”

“Yes,” Yuu half-lied, “They are.”

“Then why?”

Had these been normal flowers, Vil would have gratefully taken them with hope, yet these flowers, as you my dear readers know, are not normal flowers.  These were flowers born from love that was not known nor requited…

At least, at the time they were.

Oh, had the gods not meddled enough with their fate?

“Because,” Yuu managed to get out, “They represent my feelings for you. Literally.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” Vil stared down at the flowers, wondering as to how they could represent Yuu’s feelings, if literally.

“These grew because of my certain feelings, and now,” Yuu began, “they live in physical form. No longer do they live inside me, those feelings, so forcibly taken out.”

Vil could only listen to Yuu, unsure of what to make of their words.

Yuu continued, “So please, take these flowers. They won’t die, not as long as my feelings for-”

Yuu choked on the word, then coughing. Alarmed, Vil placed the pot inside his room and then he hit Yuu's back to help. Once the cough had subsided, Yuu weakly pushed Vil’s arm away from them, flashing them a sad smile.

“Yuu…?”

“I’ll be fine, I suppose I should be resting. You as well,” Yuu warned, “But I guess I can’t really chastise you for that, huh?”

“True, we both have our own faults, I suppose,” Vil chuckled.

“As I was saying. As long as the feelings I have are true, the flowers will persist. They won’t die, at least, not like before.”

“What do you mean?” Vil gave Yuu a puzzled look. Not like before?

“These flowers would have died should I had felt another emotion at the time, but since I didn’t feel it, or well, receive it, the flowers grew until it became a serious problem,” Yuu sighed, “Honestly, I’m pretty sure I won’t ever feel those feelings again, at least, not if I replant the flower seeds.”

“Why in the name of the Seven would you do such a thing?” Vil couldn’t understand, but ignorance is bliss, as one would say.

“For love.”

Those words, those two words, brought Vil’s expression to one of shock.

“Of… love?”

“Yes, of love,” Yuu glanced downwards, avoiding Vil’s eyes, “My world, we have our patron gods. The one that oversees our city is that of love. Tragic love, as one may say,” they hoarsely laughed, “Our city is known for being the one where one may experience love so easily, yet the catch is that such love may turn out to be tragic. I would go into detail as to why, but I’m afraid,” a yawn, “that it would be a story for another day.”

“I see…”

Still not meeting their eyes, Yuu then said, “I only wanted you to be aware. Please, I know you may not love me in return, but I ask that you take care of these flowers. That’s all.”

Without a response from Vil, Yuu turned and left, their footsteps echoing throughout the hall as Vil contemplated their thoughts.

Vil, slowly, closed the door, quietly. He picked up the pot, walked, and sat on his bed. The flowers were as beautiful as ever, the smell of cleaning agents gone, as if they were never there. Who knew that such flowers would represent such a thing.

It took a moment for Vil to realize and fully comprehend Yuu’s words.

Love.

Why, of all people, had Yuu given them the flowers? It couldn’t be because they had loved him, right?

Surely, that’s not why?

Vil gasped loudly, as he felt his injuries starting to flare up. Foolish, he was, not realizing it earlier.  Why now, of all times, had he fully realized his feelings? All the envy, the need to call out for Yuu, the concern, everything.

Yuu loved him. And he, loved Yuu.

Yet, Yuu didn’t have the privilege to feel such emotions, do they? For it was the flowers that were the physical representation of their love…

Truly, he was ever so foolish.

[potassium-pilot]

Prompt 9: Friable

“Dia, could I ask you a favor?”

“When have I ever said ‘no’ to you, Tataru?”

“Fair point”, Tataru replied as she placed her hand in her pocket and revealed a small crystal trinket in her palm, shaped like a sun, about an ilm tall. “I need to leave for a bit, but I don’t want to leave this alone, nor would I care to lose it because it fell out of my pocket. Could I trouble you to hold onto it for me?”

“This is the least troublesome thing I’ve been asked to do in a long time. Of course I’ll take care of it for you.” Dia took the sun-shaped trinket with her finger and thumb and lifted it close to her face for a better look.

“Thank you, Dia! I owe you for this!” Tataru waved at her and sauntered out of the Rising Stones, leaving Dia to marvel at the inanimate object for a while before placing it within her inventory.

“You know, you ought to learn to say ‘no’ sometimes”, a gruff voice commented aloud. Estinien sat at the table in front of Tataru’s desk, giving a wry smile. “And what’s that supposed to mean, Wyrmblood?”

“Means you run yourself ragged for them already. When do you put your foot down?”

“You don’t say ‘no’ to Tataru Taru.” She sat down across from him. “It’s one of the unwritten rules of the Scions. You’ll get used to it soon enough.”

“Why is that an unwritten rule?”

“Consider it like this; Tataru has watched her friends be murdered and kidnapped before her very eyes and nearly died herself, she was forced into exile alongside Alphinaud and I after that godsforsaken banquet, and she helped me fight a giant turtle man in Hell’s Lid. All this, she’s done and kept the Scions afloat, which was rather difficult when the majority of us were across the rift in the First. None of us would be here without her keeping all the things that would distract us from our duty away from us. If she needs something, I’m damn well doing it.”

Estinien wore a perplexed look on his face. “There’s a couple of scenarios in there that I’ll need you to explain.”

“All in good time. The point is, never say ‘no’ to Tataru, ever. She’s done and seen too much. She can have anything she wants.”

“You can’t always say ‘yes’ to people, or they’ll expect further agreement from you.”

“Good? That means they trust you.”

“That means they think you’re a doormat.”

Dia scoffed at the notion. “This is also my place of employment. What about when you were ordered to do something as a Temple knight? You couldn’t have been able to say ‘no’ to your commanding officer.”

“The Scions are not a military, as I recall. At any rate, are you implying the coinkeeper is your commanding officer?”

“As good as, if not better. Have you ever tried saying ‘no’ to her?”

“I have said no to her.”

An evil curl of her lip began to form into a half-smirk. “And weren’t you chased around Kugane for your efforts?” Estinien darted his eyes away with a scowl. “And then ended up saying ‘yes’ to taking down Black Rose facilities anyways…and then to becoming a Scion?” Estinien growled under his breath. Dia leaned back in her chair and pretended to hold a book. “Or was that in your day planner?” She started a pale imitation of the man. “10am: Brooding. 11am: Jump a million malms in the air. 12pm: Destroy any Black Rose facilities I see. 1pm: Become a Scion of the Seventh Dawn.”

“Don’t you have a crystal to watch?!” he retorted.

“I do, yes”, she reached into her inventory and opened her palm in front of him, “and I’m doing it well, see?”

There was a moment of silence, then the dragoon said, “That’s not the crystal” with a small bit of pleasure in his voice. She popped a very quizzical look and checked what was in her hand herself. A small sapphire charm was staring back at her.

“Shite! I was going to give this to Aymeric last night, and I forgot!” She stared into her inventory with no small amount of desperation. “Well, where in hells is the crystal, then?”

“Don’t ask me. You’re the one who agreed to keep watch of it.”

She sifled through her bag frantically. “I couldn’t have lost it; I was sitting here the whole time!”

“Ah, Dia, Estinien, how are you faring?” G’raha greeted cheerfully, as she continued to search through her possessions while Estinien reveled in his schadenfreude.

A few footsteps later, a shattering sound rang the loudest that any crystal could ever make.

Dia’s eyes widened. She slowly stood up from her chair, took a few very slow steps, and delivered to G’raha a look that could strike fear into the heart of Halone. “G’raha Tia”, she rumbled in a very low voice, “Move your foot.”

G’raha slowly moved his head downward to look at his feet, then slowly returned it to meekly gaze into her fearsome visage. “I’m afraid to”, he replied quietly.

Her voice started to raise slightly. “Move your foot, or I’m moving you!” He almost hopped away, and unveiled the result of her carelessness- the shattered remains of Tataru’s sun-shaped crystal. She gathered as much as she could and dashed back to the table with G’raha.

“You were a crystal once! Do something!”

G’raha stammered, unsure how to reply to a comment like that. “I-I-I can’t! I don’t know what it looked like!”

“Do I have to draw you a picture?! It looked like the sun!” She brought her face closer to his. “You don’t understand. Tataru had me keep watch of it.”

G’raha’s eyes widened and he gave a grimace. “She’ll kill you.”

“Me? Oh, hells no. Us. If I’m going down, I’m taking you with me, crystal boy!”

He gulped loudly. “All right, maybe this isn’t so bad. Maybe this is still fixable.” The two of them used their magic to lift up the shards, and start solving the puzzle. Behind them, Estinien stood and laughed under his breath. The distracting dragoon caused her to lose her focus, the shards dropping back on the table. She swung around and barked, “If you’re just gonna sit there and snicker at us, then bugger off.”

“This is too delicious to turn away.”

Dia groaned. “All right, look, I’m sorry I teased you earlier, okay? But when Tataru asks me to do something, I do it, and not because I’m a doormat! It’s because she’s been the one good constant in my life, and she’s stood by me from the very beginning. She’s my friend, and I’d do anything for her because I think she deserves so much more than I could ever give, and now I’m pissed because I couldn’t even do this for her!”

She turned around and finished with, “So you’ll forgive me if I’m not in the mood.”

The two arcanists started their puzzle once again as Estinien slowly walked away from the duo.

“So that’s how you feel about our receptionist?” asked G’raha.

She let out a sharp, quick breath through her nose. “Tataru’s not just a receptionist to me. A normal receptionist would have quit the Scions the moment we were implicated in the Sultana’s murder. A normal receptionist wouldn’t have been secretly learning arcanima in her spare time and use it to help me fight. A normal receptionist wouldn’t have helped nurse the Scions as they laid there unconscious, and fret over whether they’ll ever wake up.” The last struck a pang of guilt in the Mi’qote’s heart. “A normal receptionist doesn’t casually learn airship engineering and build a new one from scratch!” She let out a light laugh after that one.

“She’s as much a Scion as the rest of us.” Dia went quiet for a moment as she started to fit some of the last few pieces together. “She’s the best of us, really.” G’raha gave a empathetic smile. “Have you ever told her this?”

She hesitated, then responded, “…no, not really. At least, not aloud.”

“I think she’d appreciate it if she heard it from you”, suggested G’raha, “It’s good to extend appreciation to those who work so hard for us, especially if it’s as passionate as yours. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you express emotions like that before.”

“Ha, Aymeric can attest to how hard it is for me to express my feelings. If anything, I should be more willing- at least these feelings are completely platonic.” G’raha gave a light chuckle.

The pieces of the puzzle had finally linked together and the sun shined back at the arcanists…

…except for one shard that made an obvious hole in the bottom.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me”, Dia complained. The two stared back at the scene of the crime in hopes of seeing it glimmer behind them. “All right, help me look for that last part.”

“Right.” The two took one step before they heard the sound of latches from the front door.

“I’m back!” Tataru announced gleefully. The two quickly spun around to look at her as she walked back with boxes in her hands. “I was picking up supplies from House Fortemps. Dia, can I have the you-know-what back?”

The two averted their gaze towards anything else and started sputtering, trying to figure out just what to tell the lalafell.

“Uh…” Dia started.

“Well, see…”, said G’raha.

“The thing is…”

The door to Dawn’s Respite had opened and closed and from the doorway. a gruff voice spoke out. “It’s my fault, I’m afraid.” The dragoon stepped out to stand beside Dia. “She handed it to me because I wanted to see it. Stupidly, I dropped it, and well…” Estinien turned around and saw the unfinished result on the table behind them. He gently picked it up and showed Tataru. “You can see what happened. These two came together to repair it.” Tataru took the stone from Estinien and gave it a good look.

“Hm, overall, a very good repair job”, remarked the receptionist nonchalantly, “Though I didn’t take you for one with butterfingers, Estinien.”

She moved to her desk to give it a better look under the lamp. “I’ll need to remedy this missing chunk here, of course.” Tataru noticed a glint of light from the corner of her eye and found the missing piece of the sun. “Ah, there it is!” She hopped off of her chair and picked it up from the floor before hopping back onto it. Gently, she picked up the trinket, and easily fit the last piece into the hole.

“There we go!” She held out the sun in front of G’raha and requested, “G’raha, you were a crystal once. Do you think you could bind this last piece for me?”

His ears drooped. “Why is everyone calling me that?” He obeyed and repaired the last piece of it to make the sun whole once again.

“Yay!” cheered Tataru, “Thank you, both of you. You two are far better at reparations than I am.”

“Than you?” repeated Dia curiously.

“Oh, of course. I’ve repaired this thing about five or six times myself. This is the best it’s looked in a while.”

G’raha and Dia shot their gazes to each other, completely bewildered, while Estinien smacked his head into his hand and shook his head, muttering the word, “Idiots.”

“Well, Tataru, if I may”, G’raha spoke up, “What exactly was it meant for?”

Tataru stayed silent for a moment, then finally sighed and said, “Oh, I might as well. I practically gave it to you anyway.” She took out a long gold chain and a display case the same shape as the sun trinket. “The plan is to encase it in this, a much sturdier glass, and attach it to the chain to create a charm necklace for Dia’s nameday. I trust Dia, so I asked her, and I hoped that maybe she’d forget about it by the time I would give it to her.”

Dia’s mouth went agape. “What?”

“It’s true!” Tataru jumped off the chair one more and walked in front of Dia. “You do so much for us. You’re always going in harm’s way for everybody, and I feel like you get so little for it. Sure, you get a bed, some gil and recognition, but that can’t be the only thing you should get from this. I don’t get to do much for you, and frankly, I don’t think I’ll ever have a proper gift to thank you, but at the very least, I want you to feel special on your nameday.”

Dia was tearing up. She couldn’t resist going down to her knees and wrapping Tataru in a proper hug. “I couldn’t ask you to do any more! You’re the best of the Scions!”

“Oh, Dia, I’m not a Scion!” Tataru exclaimed as she returned the hug, tearing up herself.

“Oh yes you are! You’ve been through too much with us. You’re a better Scion than I am. I’ve barely come by here since I moved into Borel Manor, and you’ve been working yourself to the bone here.” She unwrapped herself from Tataru and stood back up. “I can’t ever thank you enough for everything you’ve done, Tataru Taru, for going through so much with us. I owe you the best gift I could ever give you on your own nameday!” Tataru’s smile wavered, and she wiped away her tears with her sleeve.

“I’m going to find my goldsmith’s set, and I’m going to finish this for you, Dia Sito!” she announced through the lump in her throat, and ran back to the solar to look in storage for her kit.

Estinien gave his usual smile that was barely a smile, and G’raha told her, “Now you see what I mean?” She gave a smile of her own. “I do. There’s only one thing.”

“What’s that?”

She lowered her voice and near whispered. “When the hells is Tataru’s nameday?” G’raha pursed his lips while Estinien quickly removed himself from the situation by retreating back into Dawn’s Respite.

“Let’s find her calendar”, suggested G’raha.