#patiently waiting for the chorus of 'oh we were wrongs' from the useful idiots sorry i mean principled anti-pro-china-poster posters

[zvaigzdelasas]

Now, seven months later, Gen. Mark Milley, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, tells "CBS News Sunday Morning" the balloon wasn't spying. "The intelligence community, their assessment – and it's a high-confidence assessment – [is] that there was no intelligence collection by that balloon," he said.[...]

The balloon had been headed toward Hawaii, but the winds at 60,000 feet apparently took over. "Those winds are very high," Milley said. "The particular motor on that aircraft can't go against those winds at that altitude."

Wow that almost sounds like exactly what the Chinese government (evil communists, will eat you and your babies) said on day 1 and have said ever since. Which can only mean.....

How did they know & what are they hiding 🧐🧐🧐🧐

[17 Sep 23]

[benedictscanvas]

objectively - spencer reid x reader

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: none that I can think of unless you hate fluff (you monster)

A/N: My first Spencer Reid! I love this man so very much. Requested by @justkurotingz​ who I think is such a wonderful writer so I really hope I’ve done this justice! :)

---

It smelled like coffee and business. Keyboard tapping and idle chatter. There were teenage girls with elaborate concoctions to be sipped through straws, men in suits ordering espressos to go, one particular women taking an ungodly amount of time in the line to choose a cake for the weekly catchup with her friends.

You didn’t mind as much as some of the men in suits shaking their head in the line. Her friends were laughing at her and nudging them and the whole debacle only made you smile. There was nowhere else in the world you had to be, which was a rare feeling to be savoured as much as possible.

So you waited patiently as they made your drink and people watched along the way. A little boy with a slice of cake that he definitely wouldn’t finish. A man with a scarf half wrapped around his face trying to wrestle with the sugar container whilst also talking to someone on the phone. A woman on her phone in the corner. You frowned at that one. If she just looked up, took in the sights and the smells that surrounded her, she might not be sighing every two seconds before her acrylic nails began an incessant tapping on her screen.

“Y/N?”

You stepped forward and claimed your drink with a grateful nod, turning to the counter to put a little more sugar in it yourself. But clearly, you must’ve turned too quickly, because before you knew it there was hot coffee all over your arm and splashing onto the floor as you bumped straight into something solid with a gasp.

It took you a few moments to register the pain in your arm, but when you did, the person you’d bumped into was already grabbing napkins frantically and pressing them to your arm, mopping up as much of the burning liquid as he could as he rambled.

“I am so so sorry, I didn’t even see you I was on the phone and I must not have been concentrating,” he stopped and you finally looked up at him from your arm. It was scarf and sugar guy. He still hadn’t looked at you properly, focused on cleaning up your arm even though he was speaking into the phone propped between his ear and his shoulder now, “Shut up, Morgan, I didn’t even see her...I’m hanging up.”

He did just that and shoved his phone in his pocket. A disgruntled employee mopped up the spill on the floor while he had spoken. Suddenly he seemed to realise what he’d been doing, that he’d been cleaning up your arm without even asking. You felt stupid. You’d been just staring at him dumbly for such a long time, shocked into stillness by the burning and the sudden accident. But also, by some strange yet overwhelming urge for him to look up at you.

He sheepishly moved his eyes up to your face, biting his lip with worry like he was expecting you to scold him, or maybe even scald him with the little coffee remaining in your cup. Instead, you were standing there, looking at him. His eyes, specifically. You hadn’t seen them when you glanced over at him earlier. Now, it was like you’d become obsessed in a matter of seconds. One little moment. Sometimes, that was all it took.

You shook your head and tried to hide your embarrassment with a smile.

“What are you talking about? It was completely my fault. You didn’t get any on you did you?” you asked, checking him over. When you looked back up at him in his silence, you noticed he was still looking at you, a look in his eyes that meant it was your turn to bite your lip until he recovered himself.

“N-no, no I didn’t, it tipped your way,” he said nervously. He hurried threw the napkins he’d been patting your arm with in the bin and turned back to you, “Can I buy you another?”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t dream of it,” you said easily, waving him away and trying to ignore the heat of your arm.

“Please?” he asked, taking you off guard with how earnest he sounded, “My coworker now knows I bumped into a woman and he’ll never let me hear the end of it if I don’t make it up to you somehow. It’ll only add to his opinion that I’m hopeless around the opposite sex, which may be a somewhat accurate opinion, but I’d rather not give him more reason to-”

“Hey, hey,” you said soothingly, stopping him from his rant in the hopes that he’d take a breath, “I could really do with my morning coffee, if you’re sure you don’t mind.”

He let out a long overdue breath and, for the first time, he was smiling at you, this small shy smile that felt ridiculously infectious. You smiled back at him as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and willed yourself to pull it together, following him to the back of the line. Even from the back, scarf guy was too attractive for his own good. You rolled your eyes at yourself before he turned back around as you waited in the queue again.

“I’m Spencer, by the way. And you must be-” he ducked his head to read the name on your cup, “Y/N?”

“That’s me,” you said brightly, “You’re sure you don’t have somewhere to be?”

“I always leave myself at least an extra half an hour in case the line’s too long or something, so I’m fine. What about you?”

“A rare day off,” you mused with a smile, “The feeling of having literally nowhere to be is one of my favourites.”

“It is a pretty nice feeling,” Spencer said wistfully, as if he were just guessing that and you frowned.

“You don’t get much of that?” you asked and he tilted his head at you. You shrugged shyly, “I just mean, the way you said it. Didn’t sound like you really knew what that felt like.”

There was that look in his eyes again. The one you thought you might recognise but didn’t want to name, because you’d only become more bashful than you already felt.

“I suppose I don’t. I work for the FBI, in the Behavioural Analysis Unit. It can be...intense.”

“Wow,” you said seriously, looking at him with newfound awe, “That’s amazing. I’m so impressed with everything your team has done. You work under SSA Aaron Hotchner?”

His brow furrowed and he made that little confused face that you were already enamoured with.

“Yeah I do. You’ve heard of us?” he asked, looking a little more wary now, and you realised that most people who said that probably didn’t have the best intentions with the guy. You chuckled as you lifted your cardigan just a little.

“Don’t worry, I’m a cop,” your badge shone from its place on your belt before you let your cardigan hang over it again, “You helped one of my friends from back home with a case a while back. She said you lot were the best and from everything I’ve seen since, she was right.”

His blush was prominent as he stared at his shoes, scuffing them against the floor, but you didn’t grin like you wanted to, not wanting him to think you were teasing him.

“We just come and help where we can,” he mumbled, “Nothing special.”

“You know, Spencer,” you said sincerely, making him look back up at you, “If I had to guess, I’d say you were pretty special.”

He paused, still looking at you. Silence. You worried you might have said the wrong thing.

But then, a grin.

---

“...and that was the moment I fell in love with him,” you said finally, glancing from the people around the table to Spencer beside you who was staring at you with that same look from that day in the coffee shop, which you now knew to be awe and adoration all rolled into one. You smiled at him, leaning further into his side as you squeezed his leg.

“I can’t believe you guys have never told us how you met before,” Garcia sounded like she was caught up in the dreamy romance of it all and you couldn’t help but laugh at her.

“I knew!” Derek cut in with a sly little smirk directed at Spencer, “Only because later in the day I asked pretty boy why he hung up on me.”

“Derek, I don’t think-”

“You know what he told me, Y/N?” Derek continued, ignoring Spencer’s attempts to cut him off as you leaned forward excitedly, “He told me that he’d met, subjectively, the most beautiful girl in the world. That it was love at first sight.”

“That is not what I said-”

“Okay, well maybe not those exact words, but it was words to that effect, right Reid?” he said teasingly and Spencer was blushing, looking down into his lap. You put two fingers under his chin and brought his face to yours.

“Subjectively?” you asked, eyebrows raised and he shook his head.

“He’s got the words wrong, because he’s an idiot,” he directed his last comment with a side eye at Derek that had the whole table laughing, before whispering so only you could hear, “I said objectively, the most beautiful girl in the world.”

“Should hope so,” you murmured, grabbing his tie and leaning in to kiss him. You had to pull away quickly when the chorus of ‘aww’s and groans sounded out around the table and reminded you where you were. You chuckled and smoothed down his tie.

“You two kids are going to make each other very happy,” Dave chimed in from the head of the table as you rested your head on Spencer’s shoulder and looked around the group and the soppy smiles on their faces as they stared at you and Spencer. You knew they were happy just to see him happy. Most of them had come up to you privately to have conversations about how good you had been for him. It was all you could want, “To Spencer and Y/N!”

“To Spencer and Y/N!”

Everyone cheered, raising their glasses to you both and you had to fight down a tear or two. Spencer reached for your hand, entwining it in his own and brought it up to his lips, kissing your ring before resting both your hands in his lap as the conversation around the table continued.

[elektra-world]

The Wrath Part 3

↳ღ—— [Scenario: The Wrath Part 3]

Summary: Another surprise weigh in yields some unwelcome results and a member must pay the price when Mr. Park isn’t happy with what he sees. 

Warnings: This part is a bit darker and does include some “minor” physical and verbal abuse.

Requests are open so if you want a certain scenario with a member or the group, feel free to shoot me an ask and I’ll try my best to respond when I can.

It has been two weeks since the girls comeback and Loca had been doing surprisingly well. It reached number 13 on gaon digital charts while another one of their songs from the EP - freesm - reached number 15 after Lisa from blackpink did a dance cover. The company was buzzing with excitement and the girls were riding a high. They were finally starting to make a name for themselves and all the hard work was starting to pay off. 

Unfortunately, all that excitement would soon come to a halt on the dreaded day of weigh in.  

All six members of DIVIN3 stood side by side with their hands clasped behind their backs, heads lowered as the CEO and Mr. Park whispered to each other a few feet away. The tension in the air was thick - enough to suffocate someone, really - and the results were not good.

Mr. Park strolled up to the most nervous member of all - Jenna - and let out a long, exasperated sigh. “How did you manage to gain 5 kilograms in two weeks? The diet we had outlined for all of you would have prevented that if you had been following it.” 

Jenna bites her lip hard and bows her head. “I’m sorry Manager." She whispered, too ashamed to explain herself. 

“No, it’s fine because it’s not your fault.” Mr. Park tutted and turned on his heel to walk to the end of the line where Sora stood. Her heart was racing as the manager stared her down while shaking his head.

“It’s not your fault because your leader here was supposed to keep an eye on all of you but it appears she failed at doing so.”

Sora felt the sting of tears forming in her eyes and she looked up, preparing an apology for failing everybody but she didn’t get a chance to open her mouth, because what happened next happened so fast she didn’t get the chance to utter a word.

There was a loud crack followed by a pained squeal and it wasn’t until the burning of her cheek that Sora realized what had happened. Her members gasped. Yua - who was standing next to her - grabbed her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze while she shot the dirtiest look at the manager. It took all her self-control not to say and do unspeakable things to the man before her.

“Jihoon? Are you an idiot? You’re angry because the girls let themselves go and don’t look as pretty yet you leave an ugly mark on her face?” Mr. Ho motions to Sora, who’s holding back tears, a red welt forming on her cheek now.

“Makeup will cover it up just fine.” The Manager snaps back. The two clearly knew each other quite well, with how informally they talked to each other.

“That’s if you,” he turns back to Sora and points at her, “can do something right for once and make sure to cover it up everyday. You really don’t want to cause a scandal for your group, do you?”

Sora sniffles and shakes her head. “No, Mr. Park.” 

“Good.” He smiles hearing that before stepping back and checking his watch. “We will be taking full control of your bank accounts from now on and locks will be placed on the cupboards in your dorm. I don’t understand why they let you spend your funds so freely but that will end immediately seeing as how none of you have the proper self-discipline or respect for your bodies. You are idols and looking good for fans is a must. They want to see beautiful ladies performing, not dancing cows.”

Yua bit her cheek hard enough to draw blood. She wanted so badly to speak up - to tell this new manager to go jump off a cliff - but she knew if she did, one of her members would be punished, and there was no way she’d do something that could get one of the other girls hurt.

“Due to your leaders negligence, you will be spending an extra four hours here practicing all of your latest choreography. As you may or may not remember, we are planning a small tour and you need to be at your best so that you don’t make the company look bad. Is that understood?” His voice is so condescending it makes the girls sick.

“Understood, Mr. Park.” The girls murmured weakly. 

The CEO and Manager left for the time being, leaving the girls to begin warming up while they waited for the choreographer. Today was suppose to be their off day - the next two days would be spent practicing and recording more music show performances, along with preparing for appearances on a couple variety shows.

“Are you okay, Unnie?” Jenna whimpers as she timidly looks to the leader.

Sora nods and smiles, “I’m fine,”  she reassured the younger girl. Her face throbbed and was so warm to the touch but she would get used to it. 

“I’m sorry.” Jenna's eyes were teary and her lip quivered as she tried hard to hold back the sob that threatened to come out. She reached out for Sora - like a child desperate for the comfort of a parent. 

“Don’t you dare be sorry you wild thing.” Sora was stern when she said this, bringing Jenna in for a tight hug. “You didn’t do anything wrong, okay? He’s a mad man. Nobody here did anything wrong.” Sora took a few deep breaths to settle her nerves. “Let us warm up and get through this practice.” 

(Four Hours Later, Back At The Dorms)

The girls were tired, sweaty and famished. As soon as they walked through the door and into the kitchen, they saw the locks on the cabinets and a chorus of groans rang throughout the small kitchen. Chanri ran a hand through her hair and turned on her heel to head for the bathroom to shower  but gasped when she spotted a fruit basket on the table, next to it another basket of assorted breads and cheese. The other girls joined her, eyeing the food wearily.

“Oh my god! It’s like heaven!” She moans and picks up the card attached and reading it outloud.  ‘I am so sorry girls. I am working on fixing things, please be patient and keep your heads held high.  - kang yuri ♥️’

Finally some hope - the girls did have somebody on their side. CEO Yuri was a bit strict but caring and dedicated - nothing like her cousin. Though she had her cards stacked up against her and it would take a lot of careful planning before she could finally set things right for the company and the girls. 

“She’s still around!” D.UH sighs with relief. The CEO hadn’t shown her face too much the last month and the girls had wondered what happened to her. It was a huge relief for them all to know at least one of the “top dogs” of Starpunch was around and would have their back.

Sora made sure all the girls got a good portion of the food before excusing herself.  “Where are you going? Aren’t you going to eat too?” Kay asked mid-bite. 

“Just save me some. I’m going to take a shower because I feel gross.” She smiled and dismissed herself, quickly jogging up the stairs despite her legs being sore and feeling rubbery. 

As soon as she entered her room, she collapsed on the bed and immediately began to cry, hand rubbing her cheek that was red and tender from the slap earlier that day. She buried her face in her pillow and let out a pained sob, questioning whether she really had what it took to be a good leader and to be a good idol. It always felt like she was never good enough and all she did was let people down. So much weight was on her shoulders and there were times when she wasn’t sure she could hold it all anymore.

“Oppa...” She whimpered to herself, grabbing her phone and debating on calling Seven. It was a toss up between calling or not. He was busy and she didn’t want to worry him and cause more trouble for her group...but she craved some sort of comfort, and hearing his voice or seeing his face - especially that adorable smile of his - soothed her no matter what the circumstance was.

It was a horrible internal struggle Sora faced these days because she didn’t want to be too needy or clingy - it made her feel like a nuisance and slightly pathetic. What kind of leader was she if she constantly relied on others to help keep her shit together? 

With another pathetic whimper, she put her headphones in and curled up into a ball, choosing to stare at the wall for however long it took for the music to take her away to a better place.

To Be Continued...

[crystalrequiem]

The Voice that Urged Orpheus

[Part 4/8(?)] [TRC] Summary: Fai gets lost in thought and Kurogane asks him to share. Mistake. He has no idea what to do with all these feelings. Tags: Kuro/Fai, Canon Universe, Post-Canon, Warnings:  suggestive thoughts (nothing graphic), depression, dealing with trauma, so much fluff, Is it still slow-burn if they’re already in a relationship? because that’s basically what this is.

[Part 1] ... [Part 3]... [Part 5]

Hello again! Warning this chapter for Fai’s head messing with him, I guess.  To think, I thought I’d somehow get through this world in just two chapters.... >_> i figure if we’re lucky we’ve got 1-2 more in Chizeta.  I LIVE for your comments and tags, ya’ll. Thanks so much for all the love!

Caldina had advised they might find lodging with the Academy if Fai didn’t mind hosting a few lectures. He couldn’t tell how Fai felt about the suggestion, but with currency uncertain and little else to go on, it certainly sounded like a good deal. Of course, Kurogane figured they might have trouble given no one in their group could read anything in the local language, and he had no idea what bargaining for living space might entail…. He needn’t have bothered.

The Academy nearly bends over backwards to host their group. The instant someone spots them meandering into the library, they start begging Fai to demonstrate his enchantment on the cloak and everything snowballs from there. Before he knows what’s what, Fai has some sort of visiting scholar position and they’ve been put up in academic housing. The administration kindly arranges for them to take two bedrooms and a central living area—a complete if compact apartment. Honestly, much, much nicer than Kurogane could have hoped when they landed in the desert this morning.

Thick earthen walls cut the heat and will likely insulate against the chill of night. Intricately detailed window screens invite a lattice of rosy light into the room while the sun finishes setting. Soft, pillowy seating spaces and ceilings peppered with tiny glowing baubles he assumes must be magic. No food or place for groceries, but the school keeps a communal eating area and they’ve already discovered that no one has any compunctions about sharing.

Their rag-tag traveling family trails in to their borrowed room, tired by a long day spent touring the grounds and staring at all manner of spell work. Kurogane locks the sturdy, elaborately carved door behind himself as he steps through, feeling surreal and off-balance.

“—and did you see what they were doing with the gravity manipulation? I didn’t completely understand how it works, but it looked like they were making something like the flying carts from piffle!” He has no idea what to do with all this magic, or why he should care, but Syaoran takes to the academy like a duck to water. For as many differences between them, the kid and his double both share the same love of learning… He chatters to everyone who will listen at a mile a minute. They’ve barely scratched the surface of the library and labs today, but ideas seem to fill his every thought.

Something twists painfully in in Kurogane’s chest to watch him so excited—this sort of place is where someone like Syaoran belongs, if he wants. Not an endless, thankless journey through dimensions. The fact that they can come here probably means a lot to the kid, but he wishes they could do more. He wishes the first Syaoran could have made it here to see it. He just—

Needs to stop thinking about it like this. They’re doing what they can. Maybe if they make enough memories here, Mokona can find a way to return someday.

Eventually, Syaoran has to pause his latest stream of thought to yawn, and Fai steps in and suggests they all get some early rest.

“We have even more to do tomorrow, and you have plenty of lectures to look forward to.” The Kid and pork-bun bend to the logic of Fai’s argument with no complaints, already bleary-eyed as they wander away to investigate their own room with a quiet chorus of “good night.” Kurogane watches after them and distantly wonders whether he should have checked the place for traps before letting anyone get comfortable. He’s going too soft.

“Sheesh.” Fai flops bonelessly onto what he can only assume is some sort of lounge, his cloak fluttering as he drops.

“You’re not overdoing it, showing off all those spells, are you?” He tries to cast his worry in the form of a jab, but has a feeling Fai sees right through him when the mage just laughs. Blond hair twines over pale skin as Fai pushes a few whisping strands away from his only slightly burnt face and starts undoing the ribbon there.

“Not hardly. But the heat is a cruel and the days are long.” Something old and sad echoes in the way he looks away, the distant gaze and the slow fall of his arm, ribbon held tight. It’s lingered like a cloud around him since they arrived, ebbing and flowing amidst the excitement of the Academy.

Kurogane pulls his own, still-cool cloak off and tosses it right over his idiot’s head. “Hey!”

“I can hear you thinking too hard from here,” he grouches, sidling across the room to fit himself into the space at the end of the lounge. Fai struggles feebly to free himself from the fabric for all of a second or two before giving up. He stills and curls inward, adopting the cloak as another masking layer.

“Can’t hide anything from you, can I?” Muffled by fabric, his voice sounds more fragile than it should. …Maybe he’s pushing where he shouldn’t.

“Of course not. Aren’t you supposed to be the smart one? You’d think you’d learn better by now.” He tries to lead them back into the game and safer waters, but his lover doesn’t seem interested in following. Kurogane waits a beat for another silly quip, but Fai only grants him a muffled hum of agreement.

His brow furrows, worry multiplying. The longer the silence stretches, the less certain he feels. He tries to be patient, but the light streaming in from the screen begins shifting from sunset red to pale moon white all too quickly. The sounds of the world outside take on a hushed tone. Eventually he can’t take the quiet any more. Kurogane tuts with frustration. Reaching out for the lump of Fai buried in fabric, he pulls his cloak back and tosses it on the floor. The move leaves Fai’s hair a mess of static and fine strands.

“…I was using that,” the mage mumbles, gaze pinned to the ground. Kurogane doesn’t understand how one person can be so frustrating and so easy to love at the same damn time. He leans a little closer—lets his hand rest on Fai’s shoulder blade, tentative.

“Mage…”

“Oh, Alright Kuro-nosy!” The magician laughs even as he extols his annoyance. Beneath Kurogane’s fingers, tension slowly bleeds away until he leans into the touch. “But I warn you, it’s stupid. It hardly even matters. Just—nostalgia? Or—that’s the wrong word.”

It always matters, if it’s you, Kurogane thinks, but can’t bring himself to say. His inner monologue manages to distill that sappy mess down to a simpler, “If it bothers you, it matters,” and the phrase leaves him easily before he can dwell too long. Fai smiles—that old, bittersweet grin. Another fracture ripples through the surface of his heart at the sight.

“It’s so strange, being here, you know? I’ve studied magic before obviously, but—I’ve never seen anywhere like this.

“Free food and community and using magic to help each other—it’s… I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop—for something horrible about this world to come to light just to make it make sense.” Well, he can relate to that. He doesn’t see how it has anything to do with nostalgia though—

“Things have been too easy here,” he agrees. He takes a second look at the delicate window screens, noting how easily they might be kicked in. Do the kids have one in their room? Should they all bunk in the living area to stay in one place? He figured he was just paranoid, but if Fai feels it too— “Should we set up a watch, do you think?”

The mage blinks at him from his side in open confusion before his words fully register. Fai laughs, quiet and fond and at what, Kurogane has no idea but he welcomes the sound.

“Sorry! That’s not what I meant. I’m not explaining it right. This world seems fine, honestly. That’s part of what bothers me.”

“I don’t think I get it.” He frowns, trying to tune his alert instincts back down. Fussing with Fai’s mussed hair helps. He combs through it with his fingers and Fai seems content enough to let him, leaning towards his hand with every pass. Their positions shift until they sit pressed close at the thigh, side by side. Fai’s eyes slip closed and Kurogane watches the tiny shifts in his expression as he decides to try explaining again.

“There was a royal college of magic in Valeria. I can’t remember the specifics or how it worked but I do remember… we used to pretend we would go there and learn one day when we grew up.”

Oh. Nostalgia, he’d said, and Kurogane hadn’t managed to piece it together. He sees it now—the barest corner of what pains Fai, and protective worry stirs in him like a beast pacing at the bars. “Obviously, it never would have happened, but it gave us something to hope for—made us excited about something. We stole books from the library and taught each other whatever we could… Stupid, in the end. It only made things worse for us when the sovereign found out.”

“Fai…”

“Then in Celes, there was a Wizard’s guild, but I learned mostly from Ashura-ou and his library. And that was… good. I thought. But it wasn’t really, was it? I was just fooling myself. What happened… happened. Any memories I made were poisoned by the idea that he only ever meant to use me as a method of suicide, and I just keep thinking—I don’t know.

“This place is too perfect—it’s too… kind.”

Kurogane’s combing stills as he listens. He cradles the back of Fai’s neck instead, palm of his hand pressed to nape, as he tries to put his thoughts back to rights. He’s never been described as overly-empathetic, but the shadow of Fai’s hurt echoes in him all the same, sitting like a stone at the pit of his stomach. He wants more than anything to help ease its burden. He wishes he had some idea of how.

“Sorry. I told you it was stupid.”

“It isn’t,” he insists, but Fai’s self-derision is a stubborn foe. He huffs with frustration—he just wants Fai to know, somehow that this matters… that he matters. “The Manjuu might need one more day to recharge, but we can dodge at the first possibility. If this place bothers you, we can find something else.”

“No, It’s fine. Syaoran loves it here, and I’ll get over it, I’m just…. Memories are…” He casts a hand through the air, fluttering, as if that will describe it. It does, sort of, make a little sense. Kurogane sighs and leans forward far enough to press his brow to Fai’s.

To think. Not so long ago that Fai would never have been able to explain such a thing—wouldn’t have felt comfortable saying a word of it. They’ve built something better—stronger for all they’ve been through together and Kurogane longs to express that. Just—soon. Maybe not now. Not when he knows there’s already a lot going on in the mage’s head.

Fai leans in those last few inches and plies a soft kiss at the corner of Kurogane’s mouth before retreating. He wants to chase the sensation, but the look on Fai’s face stops him. “You, this place… I keep waiting for someone to tell me it’s all been a dream. It’s hard to believe something this nice exists—that I can have it without ruining it.” He can’t tell whether Fai means the world of the Academy, or what they have together. He doesn’t think Fai knows either.

“Hey—” he starts, utterly unsure of how to continue. Fai meets him with shaky breath and a wry smile.

“People like me don’t deserve nice things, Kuro-sama.” The mage says with utter certainty, no trace of doubt in his mind, and it kills Kurogane to hear.  

He wants to be angry—to shout Fai’s ridiculous ideas of his own worth away, but he’s tried that. It won’t do anything in the end. He holds tighter instead, slides his hand just a little higher to cradle Fai’s thick skull. He wants to fix it—prove him wrong—give him worlds and worlds full of beauty just to show him.

You’re wrong, he wants to say, but he knows his idiot won’t listen. “I don’t care what you deserve,” he says instead. They’re close enough that he can feel Fai’s breath when the mage laughs this time, sad and tired.

“I know.”

Somehow those exhausted words in the dark feel like the start of a victory.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

T&L part 5: His secret

Warnings: blood? violence?

Word count: 2510

Part six

And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who do not believe in magic will never find it. - Roald Dahl

Arya’s POV

I woke up sweating profusely, heart pounding, gasping for air and looking around trying to find something to anchor me to my waking state. I had that dream again. It wasn’t exactly the same, some things changed. For instance I could see the furry creature a little bit better. It was huge, almost like a bear, but bears can’t move that fast and definitely aren’t as agile. Maybe it was a gigantic wolf or something considering the howl I heard in the dream. This time that howl wasn’t distant and it wasn’t a lone wolf. There was a chorus of „singing“ filling the air around me even before I came to see those dreaded red eyes. This time I tried taking a different path while I was running, but no matter which path I took, the end result was still the same.

Looking at the clock I could tell it was time to get up and go to work. That’s right, Monday was finally here and I was the new part time resident in Forks Trauma center. I got ready and grabbed a muffin Emily left for me on the kitchen table with a good luck note before quietly exiting the house so I wouldn’t wake anyone up.

Driving my teal peugeot or ‘Seal’ as I liked to address him (yes, I’m one of those people) to work I could clear my mind. It was a rainy day and the roads were rather slippery with a thick foggy cover so I counted on at least one big trauma today.

„Good morning Dr. Cullen“ I said politely.

„Morning Dr. Johnson. Since the E.R. is deserted currently, we can do our morning rounds on the trauma floor. And if there are no incoming traumas by then I’ll show you to the cafeteria for breakfast.“

I nod and walk beside the incredibly handsome doctor. During rounds he introduced me to patients and asked me a few questions to keep me on my toes, and we agreed on new tests for  some of those patients as well as a new course of therapy for another select few. After rounds we went to grab some breakfast, well I did, Carlisle said he wasn’t hungry, so while I ate he talked to me about the usual number of cases per day and told me about a few most frequent injuries based on different times of the year. Even tho’ he made sure I knew that this was a small town and nothing too big ever really happened around here, I just knew things would pick up soon. It was like a sixth sense, and don’t get me wrong I’d never want anyone to get hurt just so I could have something to do, but if they did get injured I wanted to be there to fix them. They say all doctors are in a way adrenaline junkies and I agree. The rush you get when a patient comes in screaming bloody murder while looking like there was an actual freaking murder is exhilarating.

However it seemed as if my sixth sense was a bit off today, and by 2 pm there were only three cases: a cut that needed stitches, a broken toe and a sprained ankle. I was driving home when all of a sudden my pager went off. I sped back to the hospital only to find a full E.R.

„Dr. Johnson! Over here.“ A nurse spotted me. „ There was a big car crash just outside Forks, they brought about 7 people so far, but there are 5 more coming our way. Bed 1 and 3 are in the worst shape, till Dr. Cullen comes you’re in charge of them.“

I went straight for the 1st bed and from the looks of it there was a huge head laceration on this guy, his leg had an open fracture of the femur and after a quick physical I could tell his abdomen was distended which meant internal bleeding. After a quick ultrasound I noticed a ruptured spleen and I ordered a head CT to rule out any brain bleeds and I notified Carlisle that we will have to operate on the man soon. I wasn’t permitted any unsupervised surgeries for a few more years so I waited for him to come for as long as I could. While an intern took that patient up to the CT, I tended to the patient in bed three. It was a man with a developing tension pneumothorax. After I put in a chest tube and relieved the tension he was no longer in any immediate danger so I just paged an attending to take over.

Carlisle met me in the OR and we spent the whole day inside. Turns out there was a brain bleed and I got to watch a neurosurgeon do a craniotomy, also I assisted in a splenectomy and in the repair of the open femur fracture. There was a complication while the other resident was resetting the bone where he managed to rip the femoral artery, but thankfully we managed to stop the bleed and fix it.

By the time I got out of the OR it was already 10 pm. Grabbing a cup of coffee with Carlisle we rested up and decided to work the night shift too and that way we could oversee the patient since most deaths occur during night.

After such a long night, I was back on the road home at dawn. Rain stopped but the fog seemed even thicker. A vast blanket of white hung heavy over the hills suffocating and swallowing every distant object and vanishing around every corner, covering the trees and the road ahead. This enveloping whiteness hurt my eyes as I could barely see where I was going. Finally recognizing the road to my brothers home I drove slowly so I wouldn’t accidentally drive straight into the house.

„Just a little bit longer and I can finally crawl back into my warm bed and just sleep this foggy morning away. Just a“, suddenly I heard a loud thump on Seal’s hood. My heart was racing..did I just hit someone?! No, no, no, no, no, no!

Jumping out of the car as fast as I could I stopped when I saw a tall figure getting off the wet ground. The man was shaking and growling, but I could barely see him through all the fog. I just started my usual nervous rambling:

„Oh my God, I am so sorry, I didn’t see you this damn fog made me almost blind. Are you hurt? I’m a doctor I could take a look at your injuries if you are?“

But the man didn’t turn around, instead he kicked Seal, thumped at the hood with his fists and started screaming at me, his words spat out with the ferocity and rapidity of machine gunfire in a voice that was barely more human than a growl.

„You idiot! You could have killed me! Who the hell gave you a license?!“ His voice boomed as he hit Seal once again breaking the headlights.

I knew I should just stay quiet and wait for the storm to abate since it really was my fault, but I couldn’t help sparring with him. I know that when tension is high I should inject love instead of anger, give him an olive branch instead of enmity, but sometimes it just isn’t that easy, because as he hit Seal over and over again destroying one of the side mirrors in his rage, I got this urge to smack him down. So I walked up to him and slapped him with my open right hand full across the face with as much force as I could muster. It rocked him and he took a step back and that’s when I knew I’d pushed him harder than was wise. For every pound I weighed he weight three and it was all solid muscle. I couldn’t even make myself look at his face because all of a sudden his body was shaking violently while his breathing was labored and moments later he jumped back and I could hear a loud crunching sound with a growl. The fog surrounding us cleared as the growl grew louder and before me stood a huge wolf with dark silver fur with his teeth bared and a stance that told me he was ready to pounce.

As fear took over my body I was frozen to the spot. Did it eat the man I was just with or did he somehow turn into this wolf? That’s not possible, right? It can’t be! I can feel the sweat drench my skin as my fingers are curled into a fist, nails digging into my palm. I can’t hear my rapid breathing, but I can feel the oxygen flooding in and out of my lungs. Hesitantly, my eyes meet his. I could feel my heart beat… every single pound in my chest. I could not move, I could not even breathe. I took breathing for granted until he stole the air from my lungs. Then it came in short and shallow bursts.

As my eyes were glued to these dark chocolate brown eyes, my brain was racing. I knew him. I saw him before. That creature in my dreams….I suspected it could be a wolf, but looking at the one standing right in front of me I was sure I dreamed of him. I could see his stance change as he made eye contact as well. He wasn’t angry or shaking anymore, he was docile. Growling stopped and it seemed as if he was in some sort of a trance, with his tongue slightly protruding out of his snout. The wind gently brushed my hair and grazed my face, almost soothingly. This is what I needed though, some adventure. Even with the risk and danger my brain warned me off, my feet were already moving towards the majestic beast. I slowly reached out a hand for him to sniff and he nuzzled into my palm with a small whimper. I couldn’t fight the small smile playing on my lips as I reached out again with my other hand to caress his thick fur, gently running my hand up on his head to scratch that spot behind his ears. His head cocked to the side, his eyes shifting to look at something behind me.

„Arya! What the hell happened?!“ Sam runs up to me and soon spots the wolf next to me. He looks to the wolf with surprise and then frowns as if he knew something I didn’t.

„I am standing next to a horse-sized wolf and you’re not freaking out! As crazy as it seems I think this wolf is a man I hit with my car about five minutes ago.“ I bluntly stated with a blank expression on my face. 

„ I hit a man with my car, and then slapped him and he turned into a gigantic silver wolf, the same wolf from those dreams I have and you are not freaking out! Why are you not running, screaming? Why are you acting like this isn’t a freaky magical werewolf thing?“ I yelled while gesturing to the wolf.

He just looks at me opening his mouth a few times to say something, but closing it soon after without a word. His eyes dart behind me and the wolf.

The wolf whips around as well and I follow their gaze only to see two more wolves heading straight towards us. The silver giant steps in front of me in a defensive stance as Sam grabs me and pulls me behind him telling me to back up.

The big russet wolf jumps at the silver one, snapping his teeth near his head managing to throw him to the ground. But the silver one springs back up fast and snarls at the other one. All of a sudden Sam burst up and shifts into a black wolf faster then my eyes could register. Soon they all move towards the forest, teeth snapping and rolling. As they disappear a realization hits me. That’s his secret. That’s the complication he has yet to explain to me. Were all his friends wolves? Was this genetic? Was I going to turn into a gigantic fur ball?

All the thoughts are accelerating inside my head and I want them to slow down so I can breathe but they won’t. My breaths come in gasps and I feel like I’m blacking out. My heart is hammering inside my chest like it belongs to a scared animal running for its life. The world spins and I squat on the floor, trying to make everything slow down to something my brain and body can cope with. I feel so sick. I want to scream for help, but no words come out. I fall to the floor my head between my knees as I rock back and forth trying to make it all stop. I feel someone hugging me tight but I can’t even register what is happening. Think….think….breath.. I look up to see Emily saying something to me, but I can barely hear her from the ringing in my head.

„Emily, I can’t , gasp, I can’t brea….Sam…wolf..I can’t. How, how, how..“

I closed my eyes, trying to focus on something, anything, just to find one thing to anchor me to this world, but all I can think of it that wolf. Is he okay? Why did the russet one attack him? No! Focus! Focus on the way his fur felt against my skin. Focus on his eyes! His eyes stained with the color of hot chocolate on a cold, winter night that engulfs you in its warmth and makes you feel right at home, seizing the depth and heaviness of a thousand untold stories. When I was brave enough to meet them a shiver of golden light racing down my spine, his gaze reminding me of cool waters on flames, the sky lightening after a storm. Those eyes, that wolf, the man underneath…he was my anchor.

Finally breaking out of the fog surrounding my brain I looked to Emily.

 „You guys have a lot of explaining to do.“

She nodded. „When they come back, we’ll tell you everything. Come, let’s go home, you should rest up. It will take them a while to cool down.“

We got into 'Seal’ and drove to the house that was already visible on the horizon in utter silence.

When we came in, I collapsed on the couch to make sure I hear when Sam returns, because no matter how tired I was, I had questions. And this time, he was going to answer them. All of them.

[i-adore-johnlock-blog]

Now sing, Watson

Who thought that I would enjoy Gleelock? Well, I didn’t expect that but I actually did!

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!

You both like johnlock.

Stranger: (Unestablished. Gleelock.) Sherlock loved to sing, and he loved to dance even more. He always had. That was why he decided to Join the Glee club. Yes, it made him an open target for bullying, but that was hardly new. He didn’t have to be a member of the club to get the shit kicked out of him, or have a slushie thrown in his face. No, he managed to have all that beforehand. It was hardly his fault that most of the people at the school were complete idiots. He'd been tortured regularly with the comments of looser and freak. The other members of glee told him not to worry about it that when they got enough people to win nationals it would be different. Then there was the Captain of the football team. He was nice alone, but with others he had slushied Sherlock. It was painful. So when he ended up on the floor from slushie in his eyes from one of the football guys he was surprised to see the captain rushing to his aid. "I'm fine!" He looked around blindly and felt against the wall trying to stand up.

You: If there was one thing John had regretted in his life was the fact that he let himself being influenced by his other team mates. He had always hated it when they would bully someone or make a mean comment, let stand throwing those awful slushies in someone's face which seemed to hurt a lot. As the captain of the rugby team, he thought at first that he had to play along otherwise they would never see him as the captain he was. But that had changed during the years. He didn't tolerate it anymore and when he saw Sebastian Moran throwing once again a slushie in Sherlock Holmes' face, he couldn't help but to feel incredibly angry about it. But Sebastian already ran away, leaving the brunet alone. "No no, let me help you." John said quickly as he wanted to reach for Sherlock's hand.

Stranger: Sherlock pulled his hand away and pulled away pushing some slushie out of his face, "What do you care? I'm apart of glee and leaps and bounds smarter than you. You won't get any money out of me." He growled picking up his backpack and quickly yanking out his extra clothes trying to look to see where he was and where the closest men's bathroom was.

You: "You don't have to tell me that you're smarter, I already know that. Besides, I don't need any moment." John murmured, kneeling down in front of the brunet even if it was quite obvious that Sherlock didn't want his help, but that didn't mean he was going to give up. "Let me help you, alright? If you keep rubbing your eyes, it will only burn more."

Stranger: "Have you ever been slushied?! I don't think so! If you want to help me go get Kirk and Mercedes." He whispered pushing himself into the boy's bathroom to go clean his face and hair then change into something different. What reason did he have to trust John? There wasn't any of course, so he would be careful around him. Sherlock wasn't going to make the same mistake he made in middle school.

You: "I ... I yes ..." John murmured and before he knew it Sherlock had stood up and rushed to one of the bathrooms. Perhaps it wouldn't be such a great idea to follow him. He stood up and made his way to the Glee club, but he couldn't help but to feel incredibly nervous. "Kirk? Mercedes?" He asked as he hesitantly stepped into the class room, everyone turning his eyes towards him. "Sherlock asked for you two ..."

Stranger: Of course the rest of the glee club was angrily staring him down, a lot of them had been slushied by John. Kirk stood up and smiled tightly, "I'm assuming you slushied him. Wow. Real mature. Come on Mercedes. We've got to clean up Sherlock. Mr. Schuster we'll be back." The two frowned at him as they passed and walked down the hall quickly to the bathroom that Sherlock was in.

You: John felt his cheeks heat up, wishing he could turn back time and never would have done those things. "I-I didn't do that ... I wanted to help him because Sebastian slushied him, but he didn't want my help ..." He mumbled more to himself even if the others could hear him. "Yeah right." Mercedes huffed as she followed Kirk to the bathroom.

Stranger: A couple minutes later a red eyed Sherlock came out in new clothes and looked to John quietly, "If you want to earn our trust how about you stop commending your lackeys for hurting people. Not to mention you actually have a voice and you throw it away by never using it." He looked down to John firmly and huffed, "Go to class. You have no business with us."

You: "They're not my lackeys." John huffed in response. He knew that they had every right to be angry at him, but that didn't mean that they just could assume things about him that weren't true. "Besides, I never asked them to throw those slushies in your faces or all those other things. If you have noticed, I haven't been doing those things in weeks and I made it very clear to them that I don't tolerate it anymore."

Stranger: "You saw Sebastian do it and you did nothing." He snapped back as Kirk and Mercedes disappeared into the glee room. "That's tolerating it. Does someone need to teach you the real definition of tolerance? Clearly someone needs to and you still avoid talking about being able to sing. Which is a pity. I would've enjoyed seeing the battle. You're too scared, like everyone."

You: "I am sorry I preferred helping you instead of running after Sebastian and giving him a punch in the stomach? Would you want me to do that instead, bullying him instead?" John asked, crossing his arms as he looked up at the other, trying to ignore his sharp jawline and beautiful raven curls. "And I'm not scared ... I don't believe I'm able to sing."

Stranger: "That's a lie and you know it. How about you talk to your coach. She's actually a decent human. If you're not scared come into glee. Join it. I dare you." He got into a low whisper getting close to kissing John before he pulled away quickly from his attraction and rushed back into the glee room. "Mr. Schuster we'll have an audition today. I almost guarantee you."

You: "I have talked about it a million times. But people like Sebastian and Jim won't stop whatever you will tell them or how many times they have to sit on the bench." John snapped back at him, swallowing thickly as Sherlock got closer but he felt his heart drop down his stomach when he turned around. "I don't like to sing in front of people, Sherlock."

Stranger: "Too bad. You're making this up to me. We won't judge you. So long as you don't slushie us." Sherlock smirked and stood up staring John down."How about a duet? Will that make you feel better? Of course it will. You're afraid of failure. We'll do Mona Lisa by Panic at the disco. It suits quite a lot of people. You can start."

You: "I ..." John didn't really know what to answer to that, looking down at himself for a moment. Nobody had ever told him that he was a great singer until one of the members of Glee club had heard him. And they all had said that he was a good singer which was obvious a big compliment as those people had the most amazing singers in it. "Would you really want to do that?" He asked, deciding to ignore what Sherlock had said before he suggested the song.

Stranger: "Yes! For God's sake just get a grip!" He nodded to the people waiting and soon they picked up their sticks and bows beginning the song, "Now sing Watson."

You: John swallowed thickly, not knowing how to stand behind one of the microphones. He didn't even dare to look into the room where all the other members were staring at them. The music started and just a little bit of the tension seemed to leave his body. "She paints her fingers with a close precision. He starts to notice empty bottles of gin and takes a moment to assess the sins she’s paid for." He carefully sang.

Stranger: Sherlock smiled and soon joined in with the gentle deep baritone voice, "A lonely speaker in a conversation her words are swimming through his ears again there's nothing wrong with just a taste of what you've paid for." Sherlock had kept very calm as he watched John for him to take over the chorus.

You: It felt odd to be singing next to Sherlock, but he couldn't help but to enjoy it. "Say what you mean, tell me I'm right and let the sun rain down on me. Give me a sign, I want to believe. Whoa, Mona Lisa, you're guaranteed to run this town? Whoa, Mona Lisa, I'd pay to see you frown." He knew he could hit the notes as he had sang along with this song a million times before.

Stranger: Sherlock grinned and held up his hands letting him take over. It was his audition of course. By the time the song had ended, nearly ever person was clapping for his audition and Schuster looked to the group, "Alright. Great audition John. Now we'll take a vote. All in favor?" Everyone raised their hands either lazily or excitedly, "Welcome to glee club John."

You: John was breathing heavily at the end of the song, feeling as if he had just run a marathon. The adrenaline was rushing through his body and he had almost forgotten that he was standing in front of the Glee Club. "Oh, I ... This wasn't really an audition, wasn't it?" John asked with a small chuckle as he glanced sideways at the other. "I mean ... You wouldn't want me to join."

Stranger: "Why not? We need more people and you auditioned. Do you not want to be in glee?" He sat on the edge of the piano and waited patiently smiling to himself quietly.

You: "No, no ... It's just that we also have to practice a lot with rugby and I'm the captain of the team." John murmured, feeling himself getting nervous again. "You probably have to practice a lot as well and well ... I'm not the greatest student either."

Stranger: "That's no problem. Someone here will help you out as best as possible. Greg is captain of the swim team and he does just fine. Finn has the same problem with Football." The two waved from their spots and Schuster shrugged, "If you choose to join you become our family. We'll protect you."

You: John didn't know what to say, looking around and having to swallow thickly. He looked back at the brunet, unable to believe that he would want him to join. "I would like to ..." He murmured quietly. "But I don't want to upset people by joining."

Stranger: Sherlock rolled his eyes and whispered something to Kirk before leaning forward, "If you're going to worry about people's opinions then leave. Go be with your precious team."

You: "Can you just shut up for a moment about my bloody team and pretend they are all my minions?" John asked, unable to keep his voice down, swallowing thickly. "I meant that I wouldn't want to upset any of you here in this club. I know I have been a dick in the past, you don't have to remind me every five seconds. I would understand if anyone here wouldn't want me to be here."

Stranger: "Oh please." Sherlock scoffed glancing to Kirk as he took over. "If we didn't want you in we wouldn't have voted for you. Apologies accepted so come on over here and sit down."

You: John shot the brunet an angry look. He couldn't believe that he had an enormous crush on him. "Thank you." He murmured with a small nod towards Kirk before sitting down on one of the seats.

Stranger has disconnected.

[bad-draft-stuff]

Assassin’s Fate (goes)

Master and Servant, both positively thrilled. The former had never summoned prior and the latter was looking forward to a new life. The only worry the Servant has was about their phantom partner, who continued to insist on killing and replacing the nearest people. With it came a chorus of other voices- Voices the Assassin had never heard before, but also felt that they were a part of him.

Lost in these thoughts, the gold ranked Assassin promptly walked into a wall. “Ouch… What’s with me recently? I must just be still getting used to this life.” It was true, after all. He’d only existed as a Servant in Shinjuku prior, and focusing then had been hard enough. How was he expected to function well like this? “Badly,” hissed the Doppelganger, being absolutely zero help. “You’re of no help. We’re on the same side, so you should be nicer, huh?” Then came a questioning sound from his side, causing him to look. His new Master was there, staring up at him in visible confusion. “Oh, Master. What are you up to?” They questioned if Assassin was okay. Who was he talking to? There was no one there. “Oh, you can’t hear them. Don’t worry about it.” Ghosts? Or a schizophrenic? Or are you magical?? The Master was curious. Too curious. “Oh, something like ghosts,” Assassin brushed it off. He always brushes things off. Unconvinced, the Master grabbed onto his arm. They wanted to go somewhere. “What’s up? Where do you want to go?” Assassin laughed a bit. He was unfazed by it all. At least, until the Master pointed out a sign for… Therapy? Apparently it was a necessary procedure to have any newly summoned Servant checked out, but they had decided maybe doing it first was wise. One of Assassin’s voices piped up that they hoped the therapist was hot. Doppelganger was still of no use, quietly commenting on the use of imitating someone in a psychological medical role. “Oh, haha, I don’t need that,” Yan laughed it off. He always laughs it off. Doppelganger laughed with him. Step one of killing and replacing was not letting anyone know of the plan, after all. “Did you have anything else, Master?” …Apparently not. They were insistent on getting at least a single check-up, and started trying to drag the Assassin down the hall. “Alright, alright, fine, let’s go.” And so, poor Assassin was dragged into the small office, where a Lancer was holding back a Berserker from tearing into a table for “Not being Roma,” whatever that meant. “Hey, hey, did someone order something hot? Because I’m absolutely scalding!” Assassin clicked his tongue and plopped into the seat in front of the desk. The Master laughed. Doppelganger laughed. A few voices chimed in. Statement has been mostly approved, but the Lancer only stared. Several hours later they left the office, the Master content with the visit, and Assassin right beside them. “So, what’d you think?” Assassin’s arms were behind his head, clearly attempting to look relaxed, uncaring. But he wasn’t. What if he’s judged because of the visit? The Master thought she was nice. More importantly, it was getting late, so maybe turning in for the night was a good idea. A few voices chimed in with their own opinions, but Doppel was silent. It had been since a few hours into the check-up. Relieving, or unnerving? Assassin took the advice and went to bed, deciding not to worry about Doppel Not a peep came from Doppel. Perhaps it’d just gotten bored and went to sleep itself! Assassin decided that this was a good opportunity to sleep. The following morning, he was woken by his panicking Master. Someone had been killed over the night, and there were no traces of the offender! “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you. That’s why I’m here,” Assassin ruffled their hair. However, he actually was worried. Even he knew how well protected Chaldea was. A murder with absolutely no traces was horrifying enough, but in such a tightly secured place? It was downright terrifying. Except to Doppel, who had started giggling. “A cute little death,” they called it, uncaring of the details. “Maybe to you, but…to me, I find it on the frightening side,” Assassin found himself talking aloud to Doppel once more. This time, the Master decided to ignore it. It didn’t seem to be a violent problem, so why address it? Assassin was thankful for this. He didn’t want to explain. He’s not the Assassin of Shinjuku anymore. This was just leftover from the experience. “Or are you?” Doppel hissed, “Are we just copies of the original, or the real deal?” A pause. “Maybe I’m not real. Maybe you’re not. Hell, we’re all fake and life is a lie.” “Isn’t it better not to worry about that? I’m me, no matter who I am,” Assassin shrugged his shoulders. “If you insist!” With that, Doppel went quiet, allowing the other voices to speak up. How annoying they were. Oh, if only they’d stop. He hated them, but what could he do? With all honesty, not very much. The most he could do was force his focus towards his Master, who had patiently been waiting. They had already made plans, the only step left was going about them. “Oh, you wanted to do something, right? Let’s get on that.” From here, they went exploring the newly upgraded Ember Fields. It was fun for the both of them, but exhausting as well.  After the Master quickly ate something, they mutually decided to turn in early. Unfortunately, they were woken early as well, with the news that someone else had died. “Is it even safe to stay here…?” Assassin questioned aloud. The Master shrugged, honestly unsure. Maybe it’d be best if they spent the day out instead. “Well, sounds good to me!” Assassin chirped, “where are we going?” Anywhere. Anywhere but here, they said. “Let’s go, then.” From here, a cycle was started. Go out for the day, and come back to Chaldea after nightfall. Be informed of another murder in the morning, and quickly go out again. The Master was visibly unnerved by this trend, wondering if someone was really, really angry. “Who do you think it is, anyway? Are there any evil servants there? Maybe them? …Other than me, of course! Haha!” The Master stopped and stared at Assassin. If they’d known, the killer would have been caught by now. That would be nice. “Eh? You didn’t check my profile? For whatever reason, I’m Chaotic Evil. Unless you mean that that’s a stupid question.” They had meant it was a stupid question. Of course there were evil servants, but even lawful ones could kill if necessary. “If necessary, but this seems more like it’s out of enjoyment,” Assassin crossed his arms, “Well, I’ll protect you, so don’t worry. If you’re afraid, well, servants like that can smell fear. Try not to be.” They certainly can, added Doppel, and will use it to their full advantage. The other voices had no useful input, one rambling about a cute dog from another time. “Did you wanna do anything else?” Yeah, said the Master, lets go buy some food. The less time at Chaldea, the better. “Great, you can pay for it!” AND SO, the daily cycle continued. Oh, someone died, Assassin observed the following morning. Oh, someone died, he observed the morning after that. Oh, someone died. Oh, someone died. Oh̡ ͝Gods̀, it̀ i̴s 5 ̴am̵ ̡àn̸d͡ I͜'͢ḿ ̵c̷o̴v͘er͞ed i̢n ͞b͢l͘o͢od͞,̶ wher͞e̕ ̛àm͏ I ̵a̧n͟d ͘w͞h́at̀ ͜i̢s ͠h́a̕ppe͡ning, ͠wh̴ơ ̛am I ͡s̷up͟p̕os͢ed̕ ́to be͘,̶ ̢th͢is̵ co̷rp͟s͠e ąt m̸y feèt h̀as ͏bee̛n d̷ea̛d͠ ̢f̧o̵ŗ ̵o͘n̡l̶y ̸a̕ śho̢r͜t͘ whi̢l͝e,̀ ́wh̛o ͟di͘d́ ̛t̶his, ́w̛ás͘ ͟it̨ m͢e̛, ̕me,̡ ̢mę, ̢m Oh, someone died. Oh, someone died. 17 deaths, the Master mumbled one morning, sitting with their head in their hands. This was getting ridiculous. “Seventeen!” Doppel gleefully repeated. “That’s not good…” Yan folded his arms, deep in thought. Who could be doing it? “..Hold up, SEVENTEEN? Isn’t it ten?!” Yan’s eyes widened in horror. No, it was seventeen, the Master corrected. Had he stopped paying attention? They’d been happening all week still. “What…!? I am confident it was ten!” Nope. The Master even brought up a report that was made for Assassin. It was fifteen at the time of recording. Was Assassin okay? And was he sure? “No…no, that’s not possible. It’s not…” Assassin? “It’s not, it’s not! I know it’s not! What happened this week!? What happened…!?” The Master, concerned, moved to Assassin’s side, taking his hand. Something was very wrong, they knew, but not what. The least they could do was try to be supportive. “I…I’m sorry, I’m fine. Thank you.” Sure, that’s what he said, but no, he was not. That much was obvious. Maybe now would be the best time to revisit the therapist, they suggested, patting Assassin with their free hand. “I’m okay, don’t worry.” Not giving up, the Master gave Assassin’s arm a sharp tug, as if telling him to move. The sudden movement made him strangely lightheaded, and he stopped to shake it off. Stranger still, the feeling persisted, even as Doppel spoke up. “I’ll take care of it for you,” it whispered, “Just close your eyes for a moment.” Slowly Assassin did as suggested, and … … … … … … Screams, of fear and anger, were the first thing Assassin heard. He felt like he was loosely hanging on… Something, but didn’t know what. His vision was a bit blurry, but it didn’t stop him from trying to figure out what was happening. There was a fight of some sort, he figured. Then something grabbed his body in its hand, and he yelped in surprise. “Goood morning, Assassin,” hissed Doppelganger, but it’s voice was strangely far away. Like it was no longer… Inside… His head..? “Wh…what’s going on, Doppel?” Assassin groaned, “did that killer…go for us?” Doppelganger began loudly laughing in reply. Somehow, Assassin knew this meant “no”. “What did you do?!” Yan looked about, dazed. “All of it. you idiot!” it roared, swatting aside a Rider like a fly in the meantime. “You even woke up while I was at it and you still didn’t figure it out?! What use is there for you? You’re not needed!” And it slammed Assassin into the ground, using him to support it’s weight. “Stay there like a good little idiot!” “Wh…what…!? No, no! I’m not useless! I’m not…Stop! Stop!” Assassin struggled weakly against Doppel. “I will not. After all, I am the original! You are the phantom addition. I just let you think you were Yan Qing, the Assassin.” laughed the Doppelganger, it’s voice shifting to a more familiar one- Assassin’s own voice. “No…no. I’m me, I’m me. Only I’m me…only I’m me! Give my voice back! Give it back!” “No, I’m not! I’m not me!” answered back his own voice, “That’s me, I’m nothing!” “Stop, stop! Stop!” Assassin clawed at his ears, “Shut up! You know nothing! I’m..You’re nothing!” “Stop, stop! I’m, you’re nothing!” Doppel echoed back, before taking a shield to the ectoplasmic face. Amid the fighting, a weak voice called out for him. “Assa… ssin..!” they choked, “Please…! I can’t…” They choked and coughed, sputtered and spit. They didn’t sound like they were doing well. “Ah…!” Assassin turned his attention to them, dragging himself towards them, “I…I’ coming…I’ll protect you…it’s okay…!” “Pl-please… I-” the Master stopped and coughed up blood, into more blood. There was so much blood. It was coming out of everywhere at once, and there was so much. So, so much, that the Master was reduced to gargling and wheezing while reaching out for Assassin. It couldn’t all be theirs, right? “It’s…just…it’s just a nightmare… none of it’s real…!”. Assassin’s outstretched hand found its way over his eyes, “if I just pinch myself…it’ll all go away. Because none of this is real. I’m not real… you’re not real… it’s just a nightmare!” The Master whined, tears joining the blood upon the floor. They couldn’t breathe- it was too difficult- but they were still here for Assassin, even if they couldn’t move. “Everything’s fine, everything’s okay, none of this is real, right, Yan Qing? So we’ll just keep going on as usual when we wake up. Let’s do our best as always, huh? Or I’ll steal your face, eheh!” Assassin gave Doppel a snake-like grin, seemingly calm despite the situation. “I’ll give us my best!” Doppel announced in it’s own voice, backing away from the enemy servants it had been facing moments ago. “Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to explode, friend?” “Oh, that sounds fun, so fun! Let’s take their face afterwards! Oh, how fun! My friend! Let’s be anyone we wanna be! I’ll help you! That’s the way of your friendly neighborhood Doppelgänger, ehe! A single, white flower petal drifted lazily by Assassin, landing in the pool of blood that had been forming. A single moment of silence. A single slice as the Doppelganger’s murderous intentions grew and grew, cleanly cutting Doppelganger off of Assassin just before detonation. No, not just Doppelganger. It’s entire mind was cut off from Assassin as well as it’s mutated body, even removing the concept of being the Doppelganger. A single moment more of silence. Then everything went to hell, throwing everyone and everything back with an understandably explosive force. “Ugh…!” What was that?! …Why did a huge piece of him feel gone? Where had it gone? Where? Where? “It hurts so bad!” Assassin cried out, “It hurts! Something’s gone…!” The voices cried out with him, drowning out the surroundings with their hellish cacophony. A gentle hand took Assassin’s with a soft apology, which was unheard. “It’s so loud…and it hurts so much!” Assassin looked to his hand, dazed. What was touching him? His Master, holding his hand like it was a priceless treasure. Deathly pale they were, staring at Assassin with unfocused eyes. The most they could give him was a small smile and a gentle squeeze of the hand. It was all the strength they had left. “No….no…I promised you…I told you I’d protect you….no…! I’m useless! I’m so useless!” Assassin’s eyes widened in realization, “You can’t die! You can’t…. you can’t!” There was no answer from his Master. Assassin watched in fear as the life left his Master’s eyes, their grip of his hand loosening. This couldn’t be real, this couldn’t be happening! If they died, he’d follow! He’d? Who was “he”? … Who WAS he? Was he even real? He didn’t know anymore. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to know. He felt so… So weak, so useless. Maybe it would be easier if he just put his head down and died… It wouldn’t matter who he was if he was allowed to quietly fade back into the void…

[badlydrawnstuff]

Assassin’s Fate (goes)

Master and Servant, both positively thrilled. The former had never summoned prior and the latter was looking forward to a new life. The only worry the Servant has was about their phantom partner, who continued to insist on killing and replacing the nearest people. With it came a chorus of other voices- Voices the Assassin had never heard before, but also felt that they were a part of him. Lost in these thoughts, the gold ranked Assassin promptly walked into a wall. "Ouch... What's with me recently? I must just be still getting used to this life." It was true, after all. He'd only existed as a Servant in Shinjuku prior, and focusing then had been hard enough. How was he expected to function well like this? "Badly," hissed the Doppelganger, being absolutely zero help. "You're of no help. We're on the same side, so you should be nicer, huh?" Then came a questioning sound from his side, causing him to look. His new Master was there, staring up at him in visible confusion. "Oh, Master. What are you up to?" They questioned if Assassin was okay. Who was he talking to? There was no one there. "Oh, you can't hear them. Don't worry about it." Ghosts? Or a schizophrenic? Or are you magical?? The Master was curious. Too curious. "Oh, something like ghosts," Assassin brushed it off. He always brushes things off. Unconvinced, the Master grabbed onto his arm. They wanted to go somewhere. "What's up? Where do you want to go?" Assassin laughed a bit. He was unfazed by it all. At least, until the Master pointed out a sign for... Therapy? Apparently it was a necessary procedure to have any newly summoned Servant checked out, but they had decided maybe doing it first was wise. One of Assassin's voices piped up that they hoped the therapist was hot. Doppelganger was still of no use, quietly commenting on the use of imitating someone in a psychological medical role. "Oh, haha, I don't need that," Yan laughed it off. He always laughs it off. Doppelganger laughed with him. Step one of killing and replacing was not letting anyone know of the plan, after all. "Did you have anything else, Master?" ...Apparently not. They were insistent on getting at least a single check-up, and started trying to drag the Assassin down the hall. "Alright, alright, fine, let's go." And so, poor Assassin was dragged into the small office, where a Lancer was holding back a Berserker from tearing into a table for "Not being Roma," whatever that meant. "Hey, hey, did someone order something hot? Because I'm absolutely scalding!" Assassin clicked his tongue and plopped into the seat in front of the desk. The Master laughed. Doppelganger laughed. A few voices chimed in. Statement has been mostly approved, but the Lancer only stared. Several hours later they left the office, the Master content with the visit, and Assassin right beside them. "So, what'd you think?" Assassin's arms were behind his head, clearly attempting to look relaxed, uncaring. But he wasn't. What if he's judged because of the visit? The Master thought she was nice. More importantly, it was getting late, so maybe turning in for the night was a good idea. A few voices chimed in with their own opinions, but Doppel was silent. It had been since a few hours into the check-up. Relieving, or unnerving? Assassin took the advice and went to bed, deciding not to worry about Doppel Not a peep came from Doppel. Perhaps it'd just gotten bored and went to sleep itself! Assassin decided that this was a good opportunity to sleep. The following morning, he was woken by his panicking Master. Someone had been killed over the night, and there were no traces of the offender! "Don't worry. I'll protect you. That's why I'm here," Assassin ruffled their hair. However, he actually was worried. Even he knew how well protected Chaldea was. A murder with absolutely no traces was horrifying enough, but in such a tightly secured place? It was downright terrifying. Except to Doppel, who had started giggling. "A cute little death," they called it, uncaring of the details. "Maybe to you, but...to me, I find it on the frightening side," Assassin found himself talking aloud to Doppel once more. This time, the Master decided to ignore it. It didn't seem to be a violent problem, so why address it? Assassin was thankful for this. He didn't want to explain. He's not the Assassin of Shinjuku anymore. This was just leftover from the experience. "Or are you?" Doppel hissed, "Are we just copies of the original, or the real deal?" A pause. "Maybe I'm not real. Maybe you're not. Hell, we're all fake and life is a lie." "Isn't it better not to worry about that? I'm me, no matter who I am," Assassin shrugged his shoulders. "If you insist!" With that, Doppel went quiet, allowing the other voices to speak up. How annoying they were. Oh, if only they'd stop. He hated them, but what could he do? With all honesty, not very much. The most he could do was force his focus towards his Master, who had patiently been waiting. They had already made plans, the only step left was going about them. "Oh, you wanted to do something, right? Let's get on that." From here, they went exploring the newly upgraded Ember Fields. It was fun for the both of them, but exhausting as well.  After the Master quickly ate something, they mutually decided to turn in early. Unfortunately, they were woken early as well, with the news that someone else had died. "Is it even safe to stay here...?" Assassin questioned aloud. The Master shrugged, honestly unsure. Maybe it'd be best if they spent the day out instead. "Well, sounds good to me!" Assassin chirped, "where are we going?" Anywhere. Anywhere but here, they said. "Let's go, then." From here, a cycle was started. Go out for the day, and come back to Chaldea after nightfall. Be informed of another murder in the morning, and quickly go out again. The Master was visibly unnerved by this trend, wondering if someone was really, really angry. "Who do you think it is, anyway? Are there any evil servants there? Maybe them? ...Other than me, of course! Haha!" The Master stopped and stared at Assassin. If they'd known, the killer would have been caught by now. That would be nice. "Eh? You didn't check my profile? For whatever reason, I'm Chaotic Evil. Unless you mean that that's a stupid question." They had meant it was a stupid question. Of course there were evil servants, but even lawful ones could kill if necessary. "If necessary, but this seems more like it's out of enjoyment," Assassin crossed his arms, "Well, I'll protect you, so don't worry. If you're afraid, well, servants like that can smell fear. Try not to be." They certainly can, added Doppel, and will use it to their full advantage. The other voices had no useful input, one rambling about a cute dog from another time. "Did you wanna do anything else?" Yeah, said the Master, lets go buy some food. The less time at Chaldea, the better. "Great, you can pay for it!" AND SO, the daily cycle continued. Oh, someone died, Assassin observed the following morning. Oh, someone died, he observed the morning after that. Oh, someone died. Oh, someone died. Oh̡ ͝Gods̀, it̀ i̴s 5 ̴am̵ ̡àn̸d͡ I͜'͢ḿ ̵c̷o̴v͘er͞ed i̢n ͞b͢l͘o͢od͞,̶ wher͞e̕ ̛àm͏ I ̵a̧n͟d ͘w͞h́at̀ ͜i̢s ͠h́a̕ppe͡ning, ͠wh̴ơ ̛am I ͡s̷up͟p̕os͢ed̕ ́to be͘,̶ ̢th͢is̵ co̷rp͟s͠e ąt m̸y feèt h̀as ͏bee̛n d̷ea̛d͠ ̢f̧o̵ŗ ̵o͘n̡l̶y ̸a̕ śho̢r͜t͘ whi̢l͝e,̀ ́wh̛o ͟di͘d́ ̛t̶his, ́w̛ás͘ ͟it̨ m͢e̛, ̕me,̡ ̢mę, ̢m Oh, someone died. Oh, someone died. 17 deaths, the Master mumbled one morning, sitting with their head in their hands. This was getting ridiculous. "Seventeen!" Doppel gleefully repeated. "That's not good..." Yan folded his arms, deep in thought. Who could be doing it? "..Hold up, SEVENTEEN? Isn't it ten?!" Yan's eyes widened in horror. No, it was seventeen, the Master corrected. Had he stopped paying attention? They'd been happening all week still. "What...!? I am confident it was ten!" Nope. The Master even brought up a report that was made for Assassin. It was fifteen at the time of recording. Was Assassin okay? And was he sure? "No...no, that's not possible. It's not..." Assassin? "It's not, it's not! I know it's not! What happened this week!? What happened...!?" The Master, concerned, moved to Assassin's side, taking his hand. Something was very wrong, they knew, but not what. The least they could do was try to be supportive. "I...I'm sorry, I'm fine. Thank you." Sure, that's what he said, but no, he was not. That much was obvious. Maybe now would be the best time to revisit the therapist, they suggested, patting Assassin with their free hand. “I’m okay, don’t worry.” Not giving up, the Master gave Assassin's arm a sharp tug, as if telling him to move. The sudden movement made him strangely lightheaded, and he stopped to shake it off. Stranger still, the feeling persisted, even as Doppel spoke up. "I'll take care of it for you," it whispered, "Just close your eyes for a moment." Slowly Assassin did as suggested, and ... ... ... ... ... ... Screams, of fear and anger, were the first thing Assassin heard. He felt like he was loosely hanging on... Something, but didn't know what. His vision was a bit blurry, but it didn't stop him from trying to figure out what was happening. There was a fight of some sort, he figured. Then something grabbed his body in its hand, and he yelped in surprise. "Goood morning, Assassin," hissed Doppelganger, but it's voice was strangely far away. Like it was no longer... Inside... His head..? “Wh...what’s going on, Doppel?” Assassin groaned, “did that killer...go for us?” Doppelganger began loudly laughing in reply. Somehow, Assassin knew this meant "no". “What did you do?!” Yan looked about, dazed. "All of it. you idiot!" it roared, swatting aside a Rider like a fly in the meantime. "You even woke up while I was at it and you still didn't figure it out?! What use is there for you? You're not needed!" And it slammed Assassin into the ground, using him to support it's weight. "Stay there like a good little idiot!" “Wh...what...!? No, no! I’m not useless! I’m not...Stop! Stop!” Assassin struggled weakly against Doppel. "I will not. After all, I am the original! You are the phantom addition. I just let you think you were Yan Qing, the Assassin." laughed the Doppelganger, it's voice shifting to a more familiar one- Assassin's own voice. “No...no. I’m me, I’m me. Only I’m me...only I’m me! Give my voice back! Give it back!” "No, I'm not! I'm not me!" answered back his own voice, "That's me, I'm nothing!" “Stop, stop! Stop!” Assassin clawed at his ears, “Shut up! You know nothing! I’m..You’re nothing!” "Stop, stop! I'm, you're nothing!" Doppel echoed back, before taking a shield to the ectoplasmic face. Amid the fighting, a weak voice called out for him. "Assa... ssin..!" they choked, "Please...! I can't..." They choked and coughed, sputtered and spit. They didn't sound like they were doing well. “Ah...!” Assassin turned his attention to them, dragging himself towards them, “I...I’ coming...I’ll protect you...it’s okay...!” "Pl-please... I-" the Master stopped and coughed up blood, into more blood. There was so much blood. It was coming out of everywhere at once, and there was so much. So, so much, that the Master was reduced to gargling and wheezing while reaching out for Assassin. It couldn't all be theirs, right? “It’s...just...it’s just a nightmare... none of it’s real...!”. Assassin’s outstretched hand found its way over his eyes, “if I just pinch myself...it’ll all go away. Because none of this is real. I’m not real... you’re not real... it’s just a nightmare!” The Master whined, tears joining the blood upon the floor. They couldn't breathe- it was too difficult- but they were still here for Assassin, even if they couldn't move. “Everything’s fine, everything’s okay, none of this is real, right, Yan Qing? So we’ll just keep going on as usual when we wake up. Let’s do our best as always, huh? Or I’ll steal your face, eheh!” Assassin gave Doppel a snake-like grin, seemingly calm despite the situation. "I'll give us my best!" Doppel announced in it's own voice, backing away from the enemy servants it had been facing moments ago. "Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to explode, friend?" “Oh, that sounds fun, so fun! Let’s take their face afterwards! Oh, how fun! My friend! Let’s be anyone we wanna be! I’ll help you! That’s the way of your friendly neighborhood Doppelgänger, ehe! A single, white flower petal drifted lazily by Assassin, landing in the pool of blood that had been forming. A single moment of silence. A single slice as the Doppelganger's murderous intentions grew and grew, cleanly cutting Doppelganger off of Assassin just before detonation. No, not just Doppelganger. It's entire mind was cut off from Assassin as well as it's mutated body, even removing the concept of being the Doppelganger. A single moment more of silence. Then everything went to hell, throwing everyone and everything back with an understandably explosive force. "Ugh...!" What was that?! ...Why did a huge piece of him feel gone? Where had it gone? Where? Where? "It hurts so bad!" Assassin cried out, "It hurts! Something's gone...!" The voices cried out with him, drowning out the surroundings with their hellish cacophony. A gentle hand took Assassin's with a soft apology, which was unheard. "It's so loud...and it hurts so much!" Assassin looked to his hand, dazed. What was touching him? His Master, holding his hand like it was a priceless treasure. Deathly pale they were, staring at Assassin with unfocused eyes. The most they could give him was a small smile and a gentle squeeze of the hand. It was all the strength they had left. "No....no...I promised you...I told you I'd protect you....no...! I'm useless! I'm so useless!" Assassin's eyes widened in realization, "You can't die! You can't.... you can't!" There was no answer from his Master. Assassin watched in fear as the life left his Master's eyes, their grip of his hand loosening. This couldn't be real, this couldn't be happening! If they died, he'd follow! He'd? Who was "he"? ... Who WAS he? Was he even real? He didn't know anymore. He wasn't even sure he wanted to know. He felt so... So weak, so useless. Maybe it would be easier if he just put his head down and died... It wouldn't matter who he was if he was allowed to quietly fade back into the void...