#possibly the ​most insufferable group of strangers to get stuck with when you have a parasite in your head

[painhungry]

I feel as if this is her general attitude for practically the whole first act

[teshamerkel]

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

[Chapter 23] (29 Pages)

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It’s finally time for the human convention!

-

“I’m ditching you both if you don’t hurry up!” Tobias shouts at the open window of their room at the inn. The round, stony Pokémon at the front desk gives him a scolding glare through the building’s open door, which he ignores.

Nia pokes her head out the window to yell, “Hang on, we’re almost ready!” before ducking back inside. She must be too excited to worry about being her usual overly-polite self.

Tobias rolls his eyes. Maybe if the riolu and their annoying rookidee tagalong hadn’t stayed up half the night whispering and giggling like children they wouldn’t have overslept. Tobias had gone to sleep much earlier, when the two started discussing aura and Nia had shown Junie her progress on making solid forms with it.

Finally, Nia and Junie scramble past the disgruntled innkeeper and join Tobias outside, blinking in the harsh noon sun.

“S-Sorry!” Nia puffs. “Thanks for waiting.”

“Let’s just go,” Tobias grumbles.

“Right!” Nia turns to Junie. “Could you lead the way? I’m terrible with directions.”

Junie blinks, then looks to her right. Then her left. A little crease furrows her brow. “Yeah, just...gimme a sec to figure out which way we need to go.”

“Oh, for the love of...” Tobias spins on his heel to lead the way. “You’d get a lot better at situating yourself if you’d actually fly, y’know.”

“You’d be a lot less insufferable if you’d shut up!” Junie chirps back as her and Nia follow. Tobias snorts. That was weak, even for her—she must be too distracted by the day ahead to be her fully irritating self.

Tobias leads the way back towards the convention center, enjoying the deep blue sky and warm weather enough that the loud, jostling crowds seem less awful than yesterday. Nia and Junie chatter behind him, and Tobias adjusts the bag around his shoulders as he tries to drum up the patience to get through the day. Sure, the magic show later on might be kind of cool, but Tobias isn’t sure how to feel about whatever they’re about to walk into. What does a “convention” about humans even involve? He still doesn’t trust Will, and wants to listen to the ghost type ramble on about weird human stuff even less.

But this is important to Nia, so it has to be important to him, too. Part of the deal. Tobias had considered asking if he could go do something else while she attended, especially since they got stuck with Junie for company, but he doesn’t want a repeat of the meltdown at Afon’s Cap. Plus, between Junie’s freak-out at the restaurant last night and Nia’s own words, Tobias isn’t sure either of them are emotionally stable enough to weather another possible breakdown without wandering off and getting trampled or something.

Not that Tobias wants that job either, but…well.

He can’t help thinking about Nia’s shaky smile as she talked Junie down, or how quiet she’d been as she confessed her own fears out loud. He can’t help thinking about Junie trembling and blinking back tears, so different from her usual attitude.

And that makes him think of Maggie in the weeks after they’d first met, when she was still a stranger to him. When she curled around him and soothed his nightmares with her sweet scent. He thinks of the meganium’s sad, knowing eyes and how much safer he’d always felt when he trembled against her side. He thinks of Nia wearing that same expression as she reassured Junie. Thinks of how her smile fell and her gaze grew distant and glassy as soon as she thought no one was paying attention, how her paws clenched against the wooden tabletop.

He knows what it’s like to feel alone and vulnerable and lost. He didn’t think he would ever understand why Nia was so upset about becoming a Pokemon and coming to their world, but...maybe he understands it better than he’d thought.

So he’ll go to the human convention with them, and he’ll hate it, but he’ll deal. And after today, they can spend the rest of the trip focusing on finding info about the outlaw trio, too. A tolerable compromise.

Soon enough their group reaches the plaza from the day before, except today the decorations and stalls are finished and already attracting huge flocks of Pokémon. Banners and flags and flowers are everywhere, tents and wares carefully lined up in a bright storm of movement and voices.

Nia and Junie both stop talking to make awed sounds behind him, but Tobias doesn’t hesitate as he weaves through the many different Pokémon—fire types and heavy ground and rock and steel types, Pokémon that Tobias is unfamiliar with after living in Bethoc’s Haven for so long. He stays locked onto the convention center at the edge of the plaza, grateful that Nia and Junie only slow down a little to gawk at the attractions as they tail him.

“Hurry up. Most of this stuff is either garbage or overpriced anyways,” Tobias says to them, ignoring the offended look a shop owner sends him. He’s been to a few cities before with Maggie, so he’s been warned about how big groups of merchants like this mean there’s always a few bad ones in the mix. “There’s a reason they set up camp where it’s easy to catch tourists’ attention and coin without anything of actual value.”

“But some of it’s so pretty,” Nia protests quietly as they pass an ampharos selling homemade fleece blankets.

“Look, you wanna shop for stuff you can’t afford or go to your dumb convention?”

“The convention, of course! I just thought since we’re still pretty early...” Nia trails off, but doesn’t protest further.

Luckily, it doesn’t take long for them to reach the convention hall, where a huge, purple Pokémon is sitting at the doors like a guard, a grouchy expression on his face. A nidoking, if Tobias remembers correctly. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen one before outside of books. Why would the human convention need a guard of all things?

The nidoking grunts as they approach, but steps aside to let them through with no issue. Maybe he’s just here to keep the merchants out? As they pass, Tobias notes the heavy scars cutting though the Pokémon’s armored hide, the weight behind his movements. Not someone to get in a fight with if you want to win.

Tobias stops as they step inside, surprised by the sheer number of Pokemon milling about. The crowd is giant, filling the entrance hall entirely as they talk and move about in a loud, cheery mass. There are Pokemon here of all types, stages of evolution, and ages, too. An elderly-looking dubwool is guiding a young, bright-eyed lillipup along nearby. A yanma buzzes by overhead, nearly knocking a lost-looking drifloon out of the air. A round, coal-like Pokemon and what might be a curled-up togedemaru roll by in a blur, weaving between the forest of legs.

“Is everyone here a human?” Junie asks, fluttering up to perch on Nia’s shoulder. The riolu, busy looking around in slack-jawed awe, doesn’t respond.

“I think we’d hear about it happening more often if there were this many,” Tobias says, more unsure than he sounds.

“I mean, no one outside of Stonebrook knows I’m human,” Junie points out. “Maybe there’s more of us around than we thought!”

Tobias makes a noncommittal noise in his throat, not sure how to feel about that thought. Nia, however, looks like she’s moments away from bursting into tears.

“Now what?” Tobias groans.

Nia laughs, wiping at her eyes. “S-Sorry, I’m good. It’s just…I feel kind of bad for thinking it because everyone else is stuck here too, but it’s nice. Knowing there are so many other people in the same situation as us. Makes me feel less alone.”

Junie chirps a quiet sound of agreement, and Tobias frowns. After last night, Tobias can kind of understand where Nia is coming from, but she still doesn’t have to make it sound like she’s completely on her own. Half the guild would trips over their paws to help her, for Entei’s sake. Maggie takes care of her, Val is doing her best to train her, and he’s seen firsthand how protective Xander and that deerling’s teams are of her already. Even acquaintances throughout the guild always seem happy to talk to her.

She’s had a much warmer reception than he did.

“Are we gonna go in or stand her and get stepped on?” Tobias grumbles, moving aside as a distracted girafarig nearly trips over the three of them.

“Yeah, let’s go!” Junie cheers, ruffling her feathers but not moving from her spot on Nia’s shoulder.

Nia smiles, nervously, then gives Tobias an expectant look, as if waiting for him to lead the way.

He snorts. “This is your thing. I don’t know where you want to go.”

“O-Oh! Right.” Nia looks more nervous at that, but then takes a deep breath and moves forward through the crowd with a litany of apologies and “excuse me”s.

Further in the building, they find the space opening up to what must be the main room, where the crowd is even more lively than before. Makeshift stands line the walls, and Pokemon crowd around them, talking and laughing. The rich scent of food wafts over them, only adding to the overwhelming energy of the place.

“Where do we even start?” Nia asks, looking torn between excitement and nerves. Her tail wags cautiously behind her as she scans the room. 

“Hmm…” Junie hops onto Nia’s head to look around at a slightly higher angle. Then she points with a wing. “How ‘bout we just start over here in one corner and then go around the room? Then we won’t miss anything important!”

Nia lights up and immediately takes the suggestion, leading their group over to the first booth, where a small table is set up with a pile of pamphlets. A scizor and an archen are handing them out to the visiting Pokemon, chatting with them as they do so. Junie flutters forward to grab two of the pamphlets before hopping back to Nia, who catches her in her arms. Junie and Nia both look to Tobias, so he sighs and takes the pamphlets, flipping one open and holding it so all three of them can read it.

“Tips for adapting to your new body,” Nia reads. “Huh. Wow, there’s all kinds of different sections and stuff too. How to write with no arms, controlling tails and other extremities…”

“Oh, look! There’s a section just for flying type Pokemon!” Junie chirps, leaning closer to try and read it. “Does it say anything about being afraid of heights?”

“You’re afraid of heights?” Tobias blurts, bewildered. Nia shoots him a warning look not to push, but he’s too baffled to even make a jab about it. That explains why Junie’s been so evasive about flying low to the ground, but how can a flying type be afraid of heights? Nia at least makes sense--she’s a fighting type. But a rookidee?

Junie’s feathers fluff up as she glares at him. “S-So what? I’m doing just fine!”

Nia cuts them both off before Tobias can retort, voice disappointed. “Oh. Doesn’t look like they say anything about not knowing how to use moves.”

Before anyone can respond to that, they’re distracted by an elekid at the booth talking about accidentally shocking other Pokemon. Everyone around the elekid takes a nervous step away, leaving a ring of space around the electric type.

“Looks like you can ask Pokemon handling the booth some questions,” Tobias points out, nodding to where a krabby is speaking with the scizor. The scizor is demonstrating how he’s holding one of the pamphlets in his giant pincer with a gentle grip. The krabby tries to imitate it with his own claws, and clips the paper in half.

“I guess we just…get in line?” Nia asks more than says. Their group steps up behind an ekans, who slithers forward to take the krabby’s spot after the little water type is given a few more words of advice and encouragement.

“I hate not having arms,” The ekans snaps immediately, not even bothering to introduce herself. The scizor leans back, clearly caught off-guard.

“Oh, mood,” Junie mumbles.

“And legs!” The ekans hisses before the scizor can respond, voice growing louder and more upset like she’s just been waiting to unleash her fury onto someone. “I didn’t even like snakes when I was human—why did I have to turn into one?!”

The scizor shoots the archen a pleading look, but the other Pokemon is busy trying to help a haunter pick up a pamphlet without letting the object slip through intangible hands.

“I’m afraid we don’t know why we turn into the Pokemon we do,” the scizor finally says to the ekans, voice soothing. “But we do have a lot of tips for helping humans who have different physiology. And I know there’s a seviper here who has become really adept with using their tail and mouth instead! She—”

“Where is she?” The ekans hisses, slamming the end of her tail onto the tabletop and cutting him off.

“The typing booth,” the scizor says hesitantly, pointing to a spot several setups down. “She—”

The ekans makes an impatient noise and slips away before the scizor can finish. The bug Pokemon slumps as she leaves, gently rubbing the blunt of his claw over his face.

“Yikes. Looks like the hell of customer service carries over to here too,” Junie says, face screwed up in sympathy.

The quiet chuckle of the scizor catches them off guard. “Yes, in my experience it’s rare to come across someone so…pushy, here. But apparently any kind of human can show up. Do you three have a question I could help you with?”

“O-Oh.” Nia glances at Junie. The little flying type shakes her head no, so the riolu looks back up at the scizor. “Well…do you know if any other Pokemon have had problems, um…using moves?”

The scizor blinks. “You…can’t use moves? Any moves?”

Nia shrinks back. “U-Um. No. I can use aura! B-But…”

The scizor seems to notice Nia’s distress, because he softens his tone. “I haven’t heard of that issue before, no. I could use moves right away, and all of the other humans I’ve spoken to could as well. How long have you been here?”

“A-About a month?”

“Ah. Maybe it’s just taking you a bit longer to adapt to your body then,” the scizor suggests. “Tell you what, there’s a bronzor here named Seiji working somewhere around the typing stall, and I know he’s a psychic type, which sounds like it could be similar to what you’re working with. He’s smart, too. I think he used to be a scientist, and he loves a good puzzle. You should ask him about it, see if he has any ideas on what may be wrong.”

“Thank you,” Nia says, offering a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Tobias is guessing that she’s thinking of Val, and how if she couldn’t help then some other random psychic type probably won’t be much better. Then again, this is a psychic Pokemon who was human beforehand. Maybe that makes a difference somehow

“Excuse me, rookidee?”

They turn to look at the archen, who is using the lull in conversation to smile nervously at Junie.

“I heard you earlier,” the archen confesses. “Sorry for eavesdropping. But I just wanted to say that it took me a long while to be able to fly, too.”

Junie perks up. “Really?”

Archen nods, looking relieved at the rookidee’s interest. “Yes! It took me months before I could finally get myself into the air. I met a kind pidgeotto willing to help teach me, actually—”

Junie wiggles out of Nia’s hold to hop onto the table, closer to the archen, and listen to his advice.

The scizor is busy asking Nia if she’s struggling with anything aside from her moves, and she asks him about getting better control over her ears so they don’t broadcast her emotions quite so openly.

Tobias, a little bored, idly flips through one of the pamphlets in his claws. On the second page, he pauses as he sees…pictures. Of humans, he supposes. They’re sketched out in quick, messy strokes—they’d have to be, to be drawn onto so many pamphlets—but they’re skillfully done. Maybe drawn by a smeargle? Curious despite himself, Tobias peers closer at them.

He’d thought idly about what humans looked like before, of course. All Pokemon did. There’s probably imagery of them in some old books somewhere since humans have been showing up for so long, but he’d never really gone looking for them, even after Nia showed up. Nia has always just been Nia, a (mostly) regular riolu. It’s weird to think of her as one of these strange creatures instead.

There’s two of them in the drawing, smiling at each other. They have a build somewhat similar to him and Nia—two legs, two arms, a face with two eyes and a mouth. There’s a strange mane of hair on top of their heads, and something like a second skin—like a throh or a hitmonchan has—on their torsos. Huh. If this is how humans usually look, he can see why so many of the humans here are having issues adapting to such different body types. Nia’s lucky that she got a body kind of similar to her old one.

“Tobias?”

Tobias flips the pamphlet shut, looking up to see Nia and Junie watching him.

“You ready to move on?” Nia asks, laughter in her voice.

“Unless you want to stare at how hot we used to be as humans some more?” Junie teases.

Tobias growls at her and shoves the pamphlets into the satchel at his hip. “Trust me, if you used to look like that then this is an improvement.”

Nia looks like she isn’t sure whether to be offended or not, and Junie laughs.

“Takes the sting out of it when you’re literally a talking lizard,” the flying type chirps. “Now c’mon, they said the next stall is about evolution, right? I wanna check that out!”

Nia nods at her and they move on to the next booth. While they wait to get closer, Nia catches Tobias’ eye and grins. “I used to be much taller as a human, y’know.”

Tobias squints at her. The picture didn’t give any hints for the humans’ heights. “…How much taller?”

“Probably as tall as that red Pokemon back there,” Nia says, giggling when Tobias blinks at her, gobsmacked. She was as tall as a scizor!?

“Me too!” Junie chirps, delighting in Tobias’ shock.

“Are all humans giants?!” Tobias demands to know.

Both girls laugh again. Tobias glares at them as his face heats up.

“N-No,” Nia finally answers. “I mean, sort of, but adult humans are mostly all the same size? Like, we don’t have nearly as much diversity in body type and stuff as Pokemon do. I feel like I was probably somewhere around average height.”

The conversation gets derailed as a booming shout comes from the booth they just left.

“I HAVE TROUBLE LOWERING MY VOICE SOMETIMES—”

Everyone in the vicinity flinches, glaring over at the loudred who was cut off by the archen frantically waving his wings.

Nia, who’s holding her ears with a particularly pained expression, whimpers, “Ouch. Maybe I should take it as a blessing that my only real problem is not being able to use moves.”

Junie laughs.

It doesn’t take much longer to reach the front of the evolution booth, where a machamp greets them with a giant grin.

“Welcome to the Evolution Booth, kiddos! Or as I like to call it—” He pauses to flex all four of his arms. “The Gun Show! Any questions for your main man here?”

“W-Well,” Nia squeaks, looking like she wants to join in on the machamp’s enthusiasm but is a little too afraid to do so. “We can’t e-evolve, right? So, uh. Should we have questions? It doesn’t seem like something we should worry about?”

“Correct!” The machamp booms, flexing into a new position. “But it’s always good to be prepared if that changes in the future!”

Nia exchanges a doubtful look with Junie. “I…I guess so.”

“All right then—what’s it like to evolve?” Junie asks, hopping onto Nia’s head again so she doesn’t have to look up so far to meet the machamp’s eyes.

“Evolution is awesome!” The machamp answers, slamming his hands down onto the table. “I was beefy before, but now I can bench so many boulders.”

“I—um. Congrats?” Nia offers.

“You too could bench boulders one day!” The machamp says, pointing at each of them with one of his arms. Tobias pointedly swats the fighting type’s finger away from his face.

“B-But isn’t it hard to get used to one body and then have to get used to an entirely different one all over again?” Nia asks.

Finally, the machamp’s expression shifts to something almost thoughtful. “It can be tricky to get used to…but humans are tough, right? We’re nothing if not adaptable! Soon enough it feels like you’ve been in your new form your whole life. We’re humans—no matter what, we can always change and find a new way to live!”

Nia blinks, as if surprised that the machamp made such a good point. “O-Oh. I…guess that’s true?”

“Wait, so you evolved, right?” Junie asks. “But that had to happen a long time ago, right? Before evolution stopped working?”

“Right again!” The machamp crows. “I showed up in this world as a machoke, then evolved to a machamp a few years later!”

“Did it hurt?”

“No more than a good workout!” The machamp says with a grin and another flex. Tobias wonders if he’d get kicked out if he lit this idiot on fire.

“Huh.” Nia looks like she wants to ask the machamp a few more questions, probably just for curiosity’s sake since they can’t evolve anyways, but catches Tobias’ eye and gritted teeth. “W-Well, I don’t think I have any other questions! Junie?”

“Nope!”

“Thank you!” Nia says, grabbing two pamphlets before hurrying Tobias away from the booth.

“Tell me he’s the exception to the rule and not the norm when it comes to humans,” Tobias growls.

Junie laughs. “Yeah, he was pretty weird. Seemed nice enough, though. Total himbo.”

“…Himbo?” Tobias echoes cautiously.

“I am not explaining the concept of a himbo,” Nia says flatly. Junie laughs.

Before Tobias can press, a little shape darts into their path, nearly tripping him onto his face.

“Hey! Watch it!” He snarls, turning to the idiot who can’t watch where they’re going—

Oh. It’s a kid.

A growlithe pup.

Tobias freezes, snarl dying in his throat. At first glance, the striped orange coat and fluffy white tail calls up a memory of too-hot flames and a giant paw on his chest and sharp eyes—

No. No. This isn’t him, this isn’t then. It’s not even an arcanine.

“Sorry!” The growlithe says, scrambling to his paws and giving Tobias an apologetic grin. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Clearly,” Tobias mutters, backing off and crossing his arms to keep from shaking.

“I’m just so excited I can’t sit still!” The growlithe continues, looking around. “I’ve been waiting for this for forever!”

“How long have you been in the Pokemon world?” Nia asks, voice soft and sad.

To their surprise, the growlithe cackles. “Twelve years!”

Junie squints at the kid. “Wait, how old are you?”

The growlithe’s grin grows. “Twelve!”

There’s a moment of silence, then Junie laughs. “You aren’t human, are you?”

“Nope!” The growlithe barks, puffy tail wagging lazily.

“Why’re you here?” Nia asks, sounding less heartbroken now that she knows a little kid wasn’t dumped into the Pokemon world like her and Junie.

“I’m here with my dad!” the growlithe says. “Oh! Actually, I’m sorta hiding from him right now so he doesn’t make me stay in one spot, so I gotta go. Bye!”

The growlithe turns and bounds back into the crowd without another word, and Tobias stares after him. He’s not trembling, but it’s a near thing. His heart is pounding. He has to get himself together—just because he sees some random growlithe doesn’t mean he can freak out like this. One of the outlaws is an arcanine, sure, but he can’t lose it every time some random arcanine or their kid shows up.

He must be more obvious than he thought, because Nia touches his arm with a quiet, “Tobias? You okay?”

He jumps, yanking his arm away.

“Whoa! What’s your problem?” Junie asks, blinking down at him.

His tongue still feels like a rock in his throat, so he looks away with a wordless snarl.

Tobias can feel Nia’s gaze burning into him, and he hears her sharp inhale when realization dawns. It’s been a while since she saw the outlaw trio’s wanted poster, but she still must’ve made the connection.

“I’m fine,” Tobias finally manages, hating how his voice shakes. “It’s stupid. He wasn’t even an arcanine.”

“Still,” Nia says, voice quiet and sympathetic. “It makes sense to be afraid—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Tobias snaps, turning to look around. “Where are we going next?”

“Excuse me.”

They all turn at the voice, only to find a familiar ponyta trotting up to them, his colorful, puffy mane and tail floating along behind him. Oh, great. What was this guy’s name again?

“Hello, you three,” The ponyta greets, a harried smile on his face. “You were speaking with Will yesterday, right? Sorry for not introducing myself then. I’m Fidel—a close friend of his.”

“Nice to meet you,” Nia says, shooting Tobias one more worried glance before smiling at the ponyta. “I’m Nia.”

“Junie!”

Once again, Tobias doesn’t answer, just narrowing his eyes at the ponyta. Like Will, the ponyta accepts his silence with a small dip of his head.

“I’m sorry to keep our introductions so short, but you didn’t happen to see a zorua slip by here, did you? Little thing on four legs? Dark gray fur with red paws?”

“No, but an orange puppy tripped Tobias,” Junie offers, sounding delighted at the memory. Tobias shoots her a glare.

Fidel sighs. “That sounds like him.” Nia and Junie must give Fidel a confused look, because he quickly adds, “The zorua line can transform. Well, they can create illusions at least. He probably changed to a growlithe to try and shake me off his trail.”

“You helping his dad track him down?” Junie asks.

Fidel looks out at the crowd with exhaustion. “Something like that. Did you happen to see which way he went?”

All three of them point in the direction the “growlithe” escaped to, and Fidel thanks them again before rushing off.

“Well, that seems like a fun time,” Junie jokes.

“Can we just move on already?” Tobias grumbles.

“Wait,” Junie objects. “What was with you a minute ago? You got all weird and quiet and—”

Without looking, Tobias uses an arm to sweep the rookidee off of Nia’s head, smirking at her startled squawk as she flaps to catch herself. While the flying type is distracted, Nia glances at Tobias again with a furrow in her brow. Tobias’ smile drops as he shakes his head. No way is he talking about this. Not now, not here.

For a moment Tobias fears she’s going to push. But then the riolu claps her paws together with a cheery, “Right! To the typing booth next?”

After Junie reclaims her perch on Nia’s shoulder with a glare at Tobias, the three of them make their way over to the next booth, where a bronzor hovers beside a weary-looking seviper. Seems like that furious ekans already got to her, if her expression is anything to gauge by.

“That’s a bronzor,” Tobias says quietly, elbowing Nia and pointing at the psychic type.

The riolu perks up at that, following his gaze and weaving her way to the front of the crowd. By the time they make it to the booth, the seviper is pointing at a color-coded diagram to explain type advantages to a couple of gathered Pokemon. The bronzor turns to them as Nia finally frees herself from the crowd, almost collapsing against the booth’s wooden surface.

“H-Hi!” Nia pants. “Hi.”

“Hello,” the bronzor says, blinking at their group. Tobias is growling at a spheal to roll over a bit and give them some room while Junie leans over to peek at the seviper’s typing chart with interest.

“I, um, have a question, if you don’t mind?” Nia stammers. “The Pokemon from the—the first booth told me to ask you, I think. Are you Seiji?”

The bronzor’s eyes light up with interest. “I am. What did you want to discuss?”

“I can’t use moves,” Nia blurts, ears flicking back in embarrassment. “I can use aura, though, s-so he thought you might be able to help since you’re a psychic type? I mean, my mentor is half psychic too but she isn’t human, so…”

“Oh, interesting,” Seiji murmurs. His blue, plate-like body tilts back and forth as he thinks. “I haven’t heard of humans experiencing issues with their movepools before. Could you explain your aura powers to me in more detail?”

Nia does as asked, even holding out her paw to conjure up a small ball of aura. It looks much more solid than it did during their last training session with Val. Nia must’ve been practicing even when Tobias wasn’t around.

“Fascinating,” Seiji says, once Nia is finished demonstrating. “I haven’t done much research into aura—not that there’s much available, to my knowledge—but I wonder if your aptitude for aura could be making it more difficult for you to access your fighting type power.”

Nia perks up. “What do you mean?”

Seiji spins as he hums with thought. “Well, am I correct in guessing that aura doesn’t have a ‘type’ like other Pokemon abilities?”

Nia blinks, then glances at Tobias. He shrugs.

“I—I’m not sure,” she admits, looking back to Seiji. “Wouldn’t it be fighting type?”

“Ah, but aura abilities are specific to only a few species of Pokemon, yes?” Seiji says, sounding excited. “If it were a fighting type ability, more fighting type Pokemon should naturally learn how to wield it.”

Nia’s brow furrows. “I…I guess?”

“More importantly, you said all Pokemon have aura, right?”

Nia mouth drops open. “You’re right! I can read other Pokemon’s aura, even if they’re not a fighting type.”

“Then perhaps your aura and your fighting type powers are entirely separate!” Seiji suggests, sounding thrilled. “Perhaps attacks such as aura sphere are simply a combination of the two? If aura is inherent to every Pokemon, would that make it some sort of life energy? That would explain how it changes to an individual’s personal character—”

“And how does all of this help Nia use her moves?” Tobias drawls.

Seiji pauses.

“Oh. Yes. I suppose while it’s a fascinating subject, the possibility of aura lacking a type doesn’t solve your problem, does it?”

“I still appreciate your theory,” Nia says, offering the bronzor a small smile. “Even if it won’t help me in battle, it’s super interesting to think that my aura powers might be different than normal moves somehow. I’ll have to do some research and ask my mentor about it when we get home!”

Seiji floats up and down in something vaguely resembling a nod. “I may look into it myself as well—the idea is fascinating! As for your fighting type moves…I’m afraid I don’t have any solutions for you at the moment. Your best option would be to find a natural riolu or lucario and ask them for assistance.”

“Have you seen any around?” Nia asks hopefully.

Tobias isn’t surprised when the bronzor gives her a disappointed expression. “Unfortunately, no. Certainly none that used to be human. I don’t know if I’ve even seen a natural riolu or lucario, either. I believe they’re typically more of an isolated species.”

“Oh,” Nia says, voice small as her tail droops. Tobias knew this was coming—remembers Maggie mentioning the same thing—but he can’t really blame her for being disappointed, either. He hasn’t seen another charmander or charizard since moving to Bethoc’s Haven with Maggie, and even without Nia’s conundrum he often finds himself wishing for more fire types around the guild to train with.

“I apologize that I couldn’t be more helpful,” Seiji says. A blue glow envelopes two of the pamphlets on the table and lifts them closer to Nia.

“It’s fine,” Nia says, managing a smile as she takes the pamphlets. “Thank you for trying.”

The three of them step out of the way for other Pokemon to crowd closer, and Nia looks a bit happier when she and Junie glance over the pamphlets. A smaller version of the typing chart Junie had been checking out sits on the page, along with some descriptions and tips for remembering the different matchups.

“Oh! There—what’s it say about flying being good against grass?” Junie asks.

“Birds often eat plants and seeds, and use plant material to make their nests,” Nia recites, making a disgruntled face. “I mean…I guess that kind of makes sense? But don’t a lot of other animals—and other Pokemon, for that matter—also do that?”

Junie twitters a laugh. “So it still doesn’t make sense!”

Nia looks at Tobias, but he just snorts. “Don’t look at me. Flying’s good against grass—it’s just a thing.”

The riolu smiles and shakes her head, folding up the pamphlets and handing them to Tobias to stuff into the satchel alongside all the others.

“Where next?” Nia asks, looking around the crowd.

“Oh! Let’s get some grub!” Junie chirps, hopping back onto Nia’s head. She points with a wing. “I think I see food stalls over that way!”

“I am hungry,” Nia admits. She glances at Tobias, and he shrugs. He got up early and ate something this morning, but he could still snack. Whatever they’ve made definitely smells good.

“All right, then. Lead the way, Junie!” Nia says.

The rookidee does so with little incident, guiding them through the crowd and to where a couple of stalls are giving out food for free. It smells delicious, but Tobias frowns as he realizes he doesn’t recognize any of the meals listed on the booths’ menus. Nia and Junie make little noises of excitement, though, apparently more familiar with the names. Human dishes, then?

“What in Arceus’ name is a…hot dog?” Tobias grumbles, only half-asking.

Nia and Junie gasp as if he’d just confessed to some scandalous sin, and Tobias gives them both a glare.

“Oh, we’re getting you a hot dog for sure,” Junie says with a decisive nod.

“It can’t be made of the same things though, right?” Nia asks, suddenly sounding a little unsure. “I mean…hot dogs are already, uh—”

“Unhealthy monstrosities?” Junie offers.

“Y-Yeah. But how would they even make them here?” Nia looks a little queasy as she glances over to where a tauros and a pignite are happily picking out some sandwiches.

“You two are not selling this well,” Tobias grunts.

“It’s probably a veggie dog or something!” Junie says, sounding much more confident than Nia looks. “Look, how about we ask when we go up to order? I wanna try one now!”

Tobias is more than a little wary after that discussion, but when they reach the front of the line, the breloom behind the counter pales at their question before assuring them that they are indeed “veggie dogs.” Tobias stays skeptical as the three of them move to a dining area in another room and sit at one of the tables there. The food in his hands is unfamiliar: a cylindrical, pink chunk of…something, wrapped up in a piece of bread with a smattering of condiments on top. It smells good, though.

Nia and Junie bite into their food, chewing thoughtfully. Then Junie tweets a wordless, happy sound and digs in wholeheartedly. Nia smiles as she chews, looking a little misty-eyed and distant like she does when she’s trying to remember something. Well, they aren’t spitting it out, so…

Tobias takes a hesitant bite of the food, pleasantly surprised by the flavor that washes over his tongue. Savory and warm, with a variety of complimentary tastes thanks to the toppings. The bread seemed like a strange addition, but it adds a nice texture to everything.

“You like it?” Nia asks, looking hopeful.

Tobias hums an affirmative and takes another bite, relaxing. Okay, it’s pretty good.

Nia looks thrilled at his response, and the three of them dig into their meals in near-silence, the only noise coming from the Pokemon around them talking and eating their own food in a low murmur of sound. Tobias takes the opportunity to listen in on a conversation to the left of them, where a sinistea is rambling in a serious tone to a staravia.

“Okay, so I think I’ve connected the dots.”

“You haven’t connected anything,” The flying type says with an amused expression.

“I’ve connected them,” the sinistea insists. “Hear me out. I think we’re in a video game.”

The staravia barks a laugh, and the sinistea makes an offended noise before continuing, louder, “Think about it! We’re magical creatures with magical powers—I’m a teacup, for God’s sake. Wouldn’t it be weirder to not be in a video game!?”

Tobias doesn’t know what a video game is and the sinistea sounds a little crazed, so he quickly tunes out that conversation and instead looks around the room they’re in. Like the previous rooms, this one has a high ceiling with surprisingly intricate architecture made of stone and wood, elegant support columns interspersed throughout the space. He wonders how big this building really is—they’ve only been in three of the rooms so far, but there’s definitely more, if the exterior is anything to judge by. Are there more areas to see for this convention, or has it all been cordoned off? They aren’t even done going through all of the booths in the main area yet. The next one for them to hit apparently talks about the similarities between Pokemon and “animals”, which Nia is excited about. She claims they’ll be able to explain the concept of animals to him much better than she did.

Tobias is almost done with his hot dog when he pauses, a memory coming back to him. “Hey, these are called…hot dogs, right?”

Nia, already done wolfing down her food, nods, looking curious.

“Didn’t you call yourself a ‘dog’ at one point?” Tobias asks, squinting at the remains of his meal with renewed suspicion.

Nia barks a startled laugh. Junie almost chokes on her food.

One slightly unnerving conversation later—

(“Humans eat animals!?”

“Most humans do, but it’s not the same! I told you animals are different from people or Pokemon, a-and--Oh my God, Tobias, please stop looking at me like I’m a cannibal.”)

--they return to the main hall. The animal informational booth only confuses Tobias further. Only Nia, Junie, and both Pokemon running the stall assuring him that they would never eat a Pokemon keeps him from feeling a lot more uneasy about it.

Other than that debacle, they visit other stands that discuss a range of topics made to help humans settle into the Pokemon world easier. They’re set up to discuss what abilities are, how to navigate the slowly increasing number of natural disasters, guesses at how humans physically became Pokemon, guesses at how to return to the human world, guesses at how the humans are or aren’t affecting the Pokemon world…

“For being this big important informational thing, it feels like no one here actually knows what’s going on,” Tobias comments eventually.

Nia gives him a pouty look, but doesn’t argue.

Junie shifts uncomfortably on Nia’s shoulder. “Yeah…I mean, don’t get me wrong, I definitely appreciate all the information and even just meeting other humans is awesome! But the way Will talked yesterday, I thought they had everything all figured out already.”

“Maybe they’re getting close but don’t want to get everyone’s hopes up yet?” Nia suggests, sounding just a little desperate. “O-Or maybe Will knows some things that these guys don’t. I mean, most of them seem like they’re just human volunteers, right? We haven’t heard from Will yet.”

“And that isn’t strange at all,” Tobias grumbles.

This time, Nia does give him a heated look. “Why do you hate him so much when you’ve only had one conversation?”

“Call it intuition,” Tobias huffs. “Why do you like him so much after one conversation?”

Nia hesitates. “I…I guess he just feels really genuine, y’know? Like, he’s been through the same thing I have and he’s working hard to find a way back home for everyone. So he just…makes me feel a lot more hopeful that someone will actually figure it out, I guess.”

Tobias makes a doubtful noise but doesn’t argue as they make it to the next booth. Their group is almost finished with their circuit around the room and back at the entrance when a loud voice calls from somewhere above them.

“Attention, everyone!”

It’s a noibat, flapping hard to stay floating in place as he addresses the quieting room.

“Will, the person behind today’s event, would like to give an address to everyone! If you could all follow this hall—” Here, the noibat flaps towards the back of the room and gestures down a large hall that was previously blocked off. “—to the auditorium area, he’ll speak to you there and answer any questions you might have for him! The booths won’t be shutting down immediately, so you’ll be free to return to them afterwards.”

The noibat flutters down the aforementioned hall, and the room explodes into a slowly-rising murmur of voices.

Nia, of course, is bouncing on her toes, scooping Junie into her arms and making an excited noise. “Told you! Will must have been waiting to tell us the important stuff himself.”

“Sure,” Tobias snorts. “Whatever. You’re going to make us listen to his dumb speech, aren’t you?”

“Sure am!” Nia chirps. Shifting Junie to one arm, she links the other with Tobias’ and drags him along with the crowd towards the hallway. Tobias growls at her, but otherwise doesn’t put up much of a fight. Maybe if he can hear Will talk some more he’ll be able to pinpoint what it is about the yamask that he doesn’t like.

The crowd is even louder than it has been the entire day, but once they enter the auditorium the noibat mentioned, it becomes more pronounced in the huge, open space. The room itself is semi-circular with rows of seating, built like a cone for sound to travel from the stage out to the audience. The walls seem to be insulated from outside noise, reinforced with stone and plantlife that covers the edges of the room in a bed of soft green. Despite his reluctance to be here, Tobias has to admit the room is impressive, and he stops his meager struggling to instead gaze around at the elegant rafters and the carvings in the exposed stone. Light pours down from a giant lattice of woodwork in the ceiling, like a much larger version of the windows at the Lexym guild, lighting the stage up bright but leaving everything else in shadow.

Nia guides them to a seat relatively close to the stage, squeezing them in between a psyduck and a granbull. Tobias sighs and settles in as Nia looks around excitedly, Junie seated in her lap and eyeing the riolu with amusement.

For a few minutes, there’s nothing but the crowd of Pokemon slowly shuffling into the room and sitting down, a babble of noise as everyone tries to talk over one another. Then, there’s a familiar ponyta clicking onto the stage and looking out at the crowd.

As the talking slowly dies down, Junie whispers, “I wonder if Fidel ever found that growlithe kid?”

Tobias shrugs, not really wanting to think too hard about it.

Once the room is almost silent, Fidel smiles and calls out in a voice that projects loud and clear, “Welcome, everyone! We’re so happy to have you all here today. I hope you’ve enjoyed speaking with each other so far and found our informational booths helpful. I know you still have a lot of big questions you want answered, so without further ado, I leave you to Will.”

Fidel takes a few steps back, out of the sun’s spotlight. A beat of silence. Then there’s Will, melting out of the shadows and into the sun. His form stands out like a blot of ink against parchment, golden mask gleaming in the light and ruby eyes warm and bright as he smiles.

Immediately, the crowd of Pokemon—of humans, Tobias suddenly remembers—starts cheering and clapping and whistling for the yamask, making the charmander startle. He looks around, noting only a small scattering of Pokemon who seem as confused as he is. Is this just a…human thing, then? Nia is clapping with a huge smile on her face, and Junie is tweeting a sharp, positive note. Will doesn’t look at all perturbed by the wave of noise, and lets it go on with a patient smile for a few moments longer before raising a hand for quiet. The noise slowly dies down again.

The yamask floats forward, a gleam in his eyes and arms spread wide. “Welcome, everyone! To the first meeting of The Humans Movement!”

[rhysismydaddy]

The Bodyguard (Elorcan)

MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE SHIP.

I wrote a lot of Elorcan a while ago on my phone and realized I’ve literally been posting Nessian nonstop, so we’ll take a little break. 

I have no idea how many parts this is going to be, but it’s a bit more of a slow burn than my usual fics, so probably 5ish. Not much happens in this part, but it get’s more interesting lol. Let me know if you want to be tagged :)

Part 2 | Part 3

______________________________________________________________

Elide rolled out of bed Monday morning to the sound of a loud, incessant banging on her front door. How someone was managing to put that much aggression and frustration into a simple knock baffled her. 

She swung it open and yelled, “What the hell do you want?”

When she looked up--and up and up and up--to the man standing in front of her, she instantly regretted her choice of tone. 

This was not a man you yelled at. Hell, this was not a man you poked with a very, very long stick. 

The stranger towered above her, making all five feet of her feet insignificant. He had long dark hair pulled back in a bun, tan skin, and eyes that looked almost black. Chiseled cheek bones, a jaw set in a scowl, and head to toe black clothing completed the look. 

Elide didn’t know how to feel about his appearance, actually. 

It was definitely abrasive and intimidating. Or to most it would be. She’d lost her fear of “scary” men a while ago. She knew firsthand the most innocent looking man could be the most sadistic. 

And yet, beneath all the black clothing and deep scowl, the man standing in front of her was also attractive in a dangerous, rough way. 

But what the hell did he want?

“Elide Lochan?” he asked, his voice conveying everything written across his face effortlessly. 

“Um, yes?” How did he know who she was? 

“I’m with The Galathynius Guarship. I’ve been assigned to watch over you.” He seemed satisfied with that explanation, but she sure as hell wasn’t.

“Galathynius? As in Aelin Galathynius?”

If possible, his scowl got deeper. “The one and only. But more specifically, I owe the whipped little bitch who calls himself her husband a favor.”

“Hold on,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “Rowan sent you?”

This was beyond weird. Aelin was one of her best friends, but she didn’t spend all that much time around her husband. 

The man in front of her sighed, so much aggression in the one simple sound. “I suspect that he was told to cash in the favor in this specific way by a certain fire-breathing bitch queen, but yes, he was the one who called me.”

“Okay, but why?”

His eyes met hers, and she somehow knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth. It didn’t soften the words in the slightest, though. 

“He found you.”

Fuck.

An involuntary shiver ran over her, but she hid it behind a stretch. “How do they know?”

“Rowan said they’ve been watching your uncle for a while, and that he just bought an apartment in the city. He’s also made inquiries into this complex about you, and a black sedan has been spotted canvassing the building you work in.” 

He said it all in that same cold, almost bored tone, and for some reason, that kept the panic at bay. 

Elide straightened her spine and put on her best smile. “Thank you for telling me. I don’t need a bodyguard, though.”

He shrugged one massive shoulder. “I don’t care.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“I owe Whitehorn a favor, and this is what the bastard asked for, so I don’t particularly care if you think you don’t need a bodyguard, although I expect that to be false.” He looked her head to toe as he said that last part, and her blood started to boil. 

She wanted him gone. Now.

Glaring at him, she snatched her phone and dialed Aelin’s number. 

“Hi, Elide. You know it’s like six in the morning, right?”

“Believe me, I’m not happy to be awake at this hour, either. I was woken up by...” she realized she didn’t know the man’s name. “someone pounding on the door. He says he’s my new bodyguard and that you had something to do with it.”

“His name is Lorcan Salvaterre.”

She sighed, continuing to glare at him. “Well, I appreciate the thought, but tell Lorcan Salvaterre to piss off. I’ve been on my own my entire life, and I’m fine.”

“Barely,” Aelin said quietly. 

She paused, ignoring that train of thought, then tried a different tactic. “You know he’s like ten feet tall right?” Lorcan rolled his eyes. “How am I supposed to keep a low profile with him following me?”

Aelin laughed softly. “He’s a tall, insufferable bastard, but he’ll keep you safe. At this point, your uncle’s seen where you live and work, so keeping a low profile doesn’t exactly matter.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “But-”

“Listen.” There was a little fire in her best friend’s tone now. “I do not plan on repeating what happened two years ago. Ever. So until we figure out how to throw Vernon in a deep, dark hole no one will ever find him in, Lorcan stays. Just ignore him.”

“Easier said than done,” she muttered back.

She could practically see Aelin’s smile. “Good luck. Stay safe.”

The line clicked dead, and she threw her phone on her couch in defeat. 

“Your powers of persuasion are truly something magnificent,” Lorcan Salvaterre told her in a mocking tone. “I’m tall? Seriously? That’s the best you could come up with?”

“It’s 6 AM and I’m tired,” she defended, suddenly annoyed. “But I’m already up, so I guess I’ll just go to work early.”

She shut the door in his face so she wouldn’t have to even think about inviting him in.

Damn.

Damn damn damn!

This was so frustrating. She felt... helpless and desperate and trapped. Everyone in her life was trying to keep her safe, but she found herself wanting to be alone and independent for once in her life. 

And she was afraid. 

After finally escaping her uncle’s country estate and moving to the city, she’d sworn she’d never let him make her feel like this again. 

And yet, just the mention of him being in the same city as her made her tremble with fear. Fear, and more than a little rage.

Elide stepped under the shower spray, closing her eyes. Images from her lifetime of misery flickered through her mind, and unlike usual, she didn’t even bother blocking them out. 

They played like a montage in her head, showing her all the reasons she had to be afraid of her uncle. 

Her parents funeral. The first time Vernon had asked her to come to his office. The hidden bruises. The ruined ankle from the time he’d refused to let her go to the doctor and get the bone set. The scars on her wrists and ankles from her chains. 

The emotional scars from everything else.

She squeezed her eyes closed, shut off the onslaught of memories, and stepped out of the shower. 

As usual, she put on jeans and a long-sleeve shirt, even though it was almost summer. Even though she’d made peace with her scars, she didn’t want people to see and gawk. She got a few odd looks for being dressed so heavily, but it kept her more comfortable, so Elide didn’t care. 

She straightened her dark hair, swiped on a little makeup, and grabbed her bag. 

When she opened the door again, Lorcan was still standing there, leaning against the wall across from her. He didn’t even seem to notice her very conservative apparel, but his eyes swept over her face, studying her closely. 

“Ready?”

She nodded, a little nervous by how observant he seemed, but followed as he turned and walked towards the stairs. 

Living on the second floor had a few advantages, but the biggest had to be that she didn’t have to wait for the slow ass elevator that almost never worked. Soon, they were out on the street, walking towards her building. 

Feeling like a million eyes were on her now that she was in public, she tugged on her sleeves and ducked her head. 

“They’re probably staring at me, not you,” Lorcan said with a grimace. 

Oh, there was no “probably” about it. 

Everyone--everyone--was looking at the man strolling next to her. Some with blatant fear on their faces, some just in shock. 

She supposed she couldn’t really blame them. He was large and imposing and looked like he could snap anyone in half who dared to cross him. 

The attention still made her uncomfortable. She preferred to go through life unnoticed, and Lorcan was like a magnet to both men and women’s attention. 

Spotting her favorite coffee shop, she almost cried in relief. She tugged on Lorcan’s arm, and he followed her inside, dark eyes scanning everyone there for signs of a threat. 

Considering this was the most hippie, backwater place in the city, it was a short search. 

“Hey, Elide,” the woman behind the counter said with a smile.

Elide smiled back. “Hey, Asterin.” 

Asterin was one of her best friends in the city. They’d met in the hospital’s mandatory group therapy for people who had suffered certain times of “trauma” and had instantly bonded over their shared hate of one of the nurses. 

“Same as usual?”

She nodded, then turned to Lorcan. “Do you want anything?”

“No,” he responded, eyes hovering on Asterin as if she were a threat.

Granted, her friend was in her usual all black, mostly leather attire and had multiple piercings gracing her beautiful face, but this was Asterin for crying out loud. She was more than a little protective of Elide.

“Who’s the mutt?” the object of his attention asked in a too-friendly voice. 

Elide sighed, unsure how to explain. If Asterin knew her uncle was in town, things were bound to get a little haywire. 

“It’s a long story,” she dodged, sliding a bill across the counter. Her friend looked at her like she’d grown two heads. 

“When’s the last time I charged you?”

Never. 

She stuck it in the tip jar, making Asterin roll her eyes. A moment later, she brought back her vanilla latte and said, “I’ll see you Friday, right?”

For a moment, she didn’t know what the hell she was talking about, but it came rushing back a second later. Friday. Concert. Asterin’s band. “Yeah, sure.”

She could feel Lorcan’s eyes narrow, but she pulled him out before he could cause a scene. 

“What’s happening Friday?” he asked as soon as they were outside. 

Taking a deep drink of her coffee, she replied, “Asterin’s band is having a concert at MSK.”

He brooded for a minute over this information. “No. A crowded area is not exactly safe for you right now.”

Elide stopped walking, her eyebrows high on her forehead. “No? No?”

He was fucking crazy if he thought she’d do whatever he wanted just because he’d been assigned to follow her around. 

Lorcan repeated the word, and she saw red.

“You are not going to tell me what I can and cannot do, you stupidly large bastard. I’ve spent my entire life with someone who did that for me, and I won’t put up with it for a second longer.” 

He sighed, and that just pissed her off more. 

“If you’re not confident in your skills to guard me in a crowded area, then maybe you shouldn't be here,” she snapped. 

His dark eyes narrowed. “I’m more than confident in myself, Elide. That doesn’t mean it isn’t stupid to put yourself in unnecessary danger.”

She just rolled her eyes and stormed away, well aware his long legs would catch up to her in a second. “I’m going.”

“Fucking hell. You mean we’re going,” he corrected with a gruff. 

She smirked. “At least you won’t have to buy any new clothes. They’re a pretty goth band.”

Elide didn’t need to look to know his scowl deepened, and the thought brought a bright smile to her face as she walked into her office building. 

“Morning, Elide,” the receptionist, Tom, called. She waved back.

Lorcan did not. 

He just followed her down the hallway to the suit labeled Perranth Wellness Center, through the lobby and staff kitchen, and into her office. When she tried to shut the door behind her, his hand shot out above her head and stopped it. “I’m coming in.”

“You most certainly are not.”

He showed her she was, in fact, incorrect in that statement by pushing her out of the way and strolling in. Her office was exactly what it was supposed to be: calm, relaxed, covered in plants, and home to a comfy black sofa, two chairs, and a desk. 

As a therapist, it was all pretty much standard. 

Lorcan dragged one of the chairs into a corner near her bookcase, then sat down. 

“You can’t stay in here! I have appointments today!”

He gave her a strange look. “I assumed as much. I’m fine here.”

Elide pinched the bridge of her nose to keep from strangling him. “I’m bound by doctor-patient confidentiality. You legally cannot be in here.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not leaving you in here with a bunch of crazy people.”

“They aren’t crazy! They just talk about their problems.”

The look on his face said that statement proved his point. “I can assure you I won’t care what they say.”

“I am not losing my license because you have some insane idea that my clients are violent!”

Suddenly he was on his feet, towering over her, looking at her as if she were a naive little girl. “Elide. Has it not occurred to you Vernon could send someone as a fake client to get to you?”

No. 

“I’m safe here,” she lied. She wasn’t safe anywhere.

“If you actually believed that, then why do you have a knife strapped under your desk?”

How the hell had he found that? He hadn’t even searched the place!

She bit her lip, trying to figure out how to diffuse this situation. “I’m getting the idea you’re not up for negotiation on this point.” He shook his head like the stubborn asshat he was. “Fine. You can stay as long as you tell people you’re shadowing to become a therapist yourself.”

His dark eyebrows shot up. “I don’t exactly fit the bill for a therapist.”

“Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed.” The dark attire and permanent scowl were sure to raise some brows, but it was the only option. Elide rolled her eyes and tried to calm down. “Try smiling or something.”

He looked as if she’d suggested he run naked through the city in the dead of winter, but before he could argue, a knock on the door sounded. “Dr. Lochan? Your eight o’clock is here.”

She shoved Lorcan to the chair in the corner, and he plopped down with a sigh. 

“Send him in!”

This would be interesting. 

Twenty minutes later, Elide corrected her statement from interesting to big fat mistake. 

Her client, Wayne Jefferies, kept looking towards the corner Lorcan was situated in, eyes wide. As someone who had a strong fear of practically everything that moved, this situation was less than ideal. 

He tilted his ear toward something she couldn’t see, then whispered, “He’s here to kill me.”

Wayne was also a raging schizophrenic. 

“No one is here to kill you, Wayne. Close your eyes and focus on the sound of my voice.” Once he did, she turned around and shot a glare over her shoulder at the hulking brute. Stop it, she mouthed. 

His brow scrunched. Stop what? 

Scaring him! 

Before he could mouth something back, Wayne’s eyes shot open. “They’re saying I should kill him first.”

Oh, good gracious. 

“Feel free to try,” Lorcan said in a low voice. 

Wayne jumped to his feet, thrusting an accusatory finger towards the corner. “See! He’s after me!”

“If I was after you, you’d be dead,” her very helpful protector reasoned. 

Wayne paused, then opened his mouth to shout something else. Before he could, Elide said gently, “Sit down, Wayne. No one here is going to hurt you. I promise. Shut the voices out and imagine a wall being built around your mind, keeping you safe.”

Her client was silent, so she turned around and glared at Lorcan. He just rolled his eyes, then leaned back and closed them.

This was going to be a long day. 

~

After three other appointments, which had gone a little smoother actually, Elide was exhausted. Hearing about other people’s problems both helped rationalize hers and drained her. 

She walked to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee, Lorcan following behind dutifully. 

“Dr. Lochan! Got a package for you,” Tom said, handing her a thin package. 

Before Lorcan could snatch it up, she grabbed a knife and cut it open, revealing what was inside. 

Yet another mistake. 

A handwritten note in beautiful, recognizable calligraphy, read: I’ll see you soon.

It was a promise, threat, and taunt all in one. How like Vernon.

Knowing he would never send just a little threat, she ignored the dread unfurling in her stomach and flipped the card over.

And stared down at a black and white picture of herself, asleep in bed. 

The covers were thrown back, exposing her bare legs, and her shirt had ridden up while she slept. She looked young and innocent. Vulnerable. 

But that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was that it had been taken from directly in front of the bed. Inside her room. 

The angle of the camera made that obvious. It also revealed that the person who’d taken the picture had done so with painstaking care, getting just the right angle to make it look as if a lover had taken it. 

Bile rose in her throat as she stared at it, trying desperately to figure out how they’d gotten inside her apartment. 

And why hadn’t they just taken her then and there?

Lorcan snatched the note and picture out of her hands, jaw locking tightly. He studied the photo, the note, everything. “I’ll search the apartment when we get back. They can’t get to you with me there.”

His confidence was unwavering and let her relax a little. “I’m fine. It’s fine.”

But somehow, in the back of her mind, she knew it wasn’t. This was just the beginning for Vernon. 

He’d always enjoyed the thrill of making her as terrified as possible before finally unleashing whatever sick desire he had planned out. The waiting was half the fun for him. 

And he’d just let her know he could get to her whenever, wherever. No matter who was around. 

It was a strong opening move, she had to admit. The obviously-desired fear was there, pushing on her chest, making it difficult to breathe. 

But there was something else, something new. Something that had only developed in the year she’d been free. 

It was rage, sure. But it was a cold, calculated rage that only came with one thing. 

Revenge. 

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ooOOooh dramatic ending for the win. 

Part 2

@ladywitchling @perseusannabeth @studyliketate @cursebreaker29 @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @a-bit-of-a-cactus @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @savemesoon8 @hizqueen4life

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.16}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5.3k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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"May I ask you something you might find rather odd?"

"Don't you always?" Robin chuckled softly. "You can ask and say anything at all, you know that. Odd isn't a thing between us anymore."

"Why does your hair smell so insufferably much like pineapple? You don't even like pineapples."

For a broken second, Robin was so surprised by the indeed quite unexpected question that she didn't react at all, then however she had to snort and finally just started laughing. Gods, what a question… whether he had meant to take the edge off the situation or not, his inquiry certainly had done just that. In a sudden mutual agreement that it might be better to let go of each other –better for whom, one might ask– they both removed their tight hold from the other and Robin took a tiny step backwards. Not enough to call it an appropriate distance, really, but enough to look at each other's faces again.

"I, uh…" She started, once she had more or less stopped laughing, and finally folded the letter and the permit back into the envelope. "I haven't really had the money to buy new shampoo after I'd run out, so I first borrowed from Jorien for half a month, and now ever since the beginning of October I've been borrowing from Cas, who unfortunately loves pineapples. That's why I smell like one currently."

"I see… Curious how I haven't noticed it before."

"Well, we don't really… get that close to each other so often." Robin shrugged, trying to suppress the sad subtones that wanted to sneak into the statement, and instead acted over it by removing her wand from the tousled damp mess on her head, now that she remembered that her hair still would have to dry at some point indeed. "And I literally just took a shower before coming here, so that should make the smell even more prominent as well. Sorry…"

"Not for that. But say, do I even want to know why you decided to take a shower in the middle of the night? On your birthday?"

"Cas smeared some sticky goo onto my face and it was really itchy and got stuck in my hair…" She rolled her eyes at the memory, and upon his questioning and slightly horrified expression, she snorted but went to explain. "It was just some kind of face mask, nothing gross! Well, actually, it was pretty vile, all pink and smelling horribly sweet, even worse than the pineapple!"

"Sounds like your evening with your roommates went exactly as expected."

"Well, part of it at least. At first we had tea and cake, which I very much enjoyed actually. They told me about the incident in class as well, even though they thought it was hilarious rather than annoying. But then I became subject to their idea of a girls' night, and that meant sticky goo and painted nails." Robin held up her hands with a humoured sigh to demonstrate Jorien's work. It actually looked quite good, or at least it had, before Robin had already chipped one nail in the shower. She couldn't bring herself to care enough to fix it though. "Then they tried to get me to talk about boys, which was the point where I shut down."

"I can imagine."

"They got me a lovely gift though; a framed photograph of the entire group. The girls and I, and Simon, Gideon and Michael. All sitting together in the great hall." Robin smiled, still very much happy about the picture. "There's so few photos of me and the people I care about. Honestly, I only have the conference photos from last year and the year prior, and either has about fifty strangers in it, but only one has you."

"Good. I doubt that I'm particularly photogenic."

"Neither am I, but I like looking at the picture nonetheless."

"You always were the most photogenic person in the entire newspaper. All three years of conferences."

"Thanks." Robin laughed, once again quite glad that it was too dark for him to really see her blushing. "Remind me to show you the horrible pictures of me as a toddler some time… You'll change your mind about me being photogenic then."

"Don't bet on it."

"Alright, I won't." Her smile turned warmer, less amused and more heartfelt. "But I'm still happy to have one more picture of the people I care about now."

"You should be. It is a nice gift indeed. An actual gift."

"Oh will you stop it now!" Robin rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, then couldn't help smiling up at him nonetheless. "I think your gift IS an actual gift! A perfect one! But if you just keep refusing to believe it, might I make a suggestion?"

"Don't you always?" He raised an eyebrow as he quoted her own words back to her with a not-smirk. "Go ahead."

"Go to Hogsmeade with me on Saturday. I know you're not overly fond of being there while the students are roaming around, but you could consider it a gift to me, if the incredible one you've already given me just won't count for you. Which I still don't understand, by the way." She suggested, then went on with a small smirk. "I'm sure I can sell some stuff to the guy in that ingredients shop you sent me to forever ago."

"I will have to see it to believe it. Saturday it is." He replied and the corners of his lips quirked up more and more. "The man you're speaking of is a sleazy individual, ripping people off wherever he can, and getting him to pay a decent price will be practically impossible. But I will enjoy seeing you try."

"I can get him to pay any price you name." Robin teased with a nonchalant shrug. "I don't know what prices to set anyway, nor what the different objects are worth in theory. Just give me a number I can tell him, and you'll see me getting him to pay it."

"I sincerely doubt that."

"Wanna bet?" She quirked an eyebrow at him, smirking openly with just a tad of mischief in her tone. There was no way she would lose this, she was certain of that. "If you deem me so unconvincing, you should have nothing to lose."

"If you insist. What stakes shall we set?"

"Loser buys the winner a drink afterwards, how about that? We should both be able to afford that much at that point."

"Agreed. It should make for an interesting Saturday either way." Snape seemed to be entirely amused by the idea at this point, and Robin wondered if he was actually serious about doubting her in the first place. He did know better than to question her abilities, especially those she actually believed in herself, and somehow she had the feeling that agreeing to this bet was his way of encouraging her to do her best on Saturday. But he might also just be wanting to buy her a drink. The thought made Robin grin even more, and she decided that she was fine with either version.

"I hope I'll make it to Saturday in the first place…" She said then, remembering that it was only Friday now, roughly around two in the morning. "The girls have made some plans for my birthday, but after this evening, I'm not sure if I will survive any more of their ideas."

"To your luck, they will be busy with classes for most of the day, much like myself unfortunately. Are you going to be assisting Pomona with the second years again?"

"Yeah, it's the only thing I have to do. It's fun, actually, when the students aren't being idiots. Gonna be an easy day."

"Perhaps you should go to bed now nonetheless. As much as I would like to sit down now and keep you here until morning, you certainly would be better off with some sleep before your roommates drag you into whatever schemes they have set up for the morning."

"Yeah… I should go." Robin sighed, and this time she didn't even bother trying to hide her sadness about the fact. "Don't forget about the salt thing though, yes? And please tell McGonagall; even if just for the sake of helping me keep my promise."

"I will." He replied as he followed Robin to the door, keeping his eyes on her as she stepped out into the hallway. "If your roommates haven't already claimed every single minute of your day by then, perhaps we could take a walk in the afternoon."

"I would like that very much." Robin smiled up at him too happily, in too much excitement, but she couldn't bring herself to care. He already knew that she loved spending time with him; he just didn't know all of the reasons. "But for now, goodnight."

"Get out of my sight already."

"As you wish." She grinned at his feigned annoyance and not-smirk, then made her way down the hallway and back towards her room, clutching her wand in one hand and the letter in the other. Surprisingly enough, this had been a great start to her birthday after all.

When she lay in bed a little while later, she could still feel the shadow of his touch along her spine, the brush of his fingertips on her sides, and it took her a while to fall asleep like that, when part of her mind wouldn't shut up and instead kept on wondering what it would've felt like without all the fabric in between his skin and her own.

… … …

Morning, as always, came way too soon, and Robin was woken up by two overly excited girls who then proceeded to dictate her every move. Luckily she could talk them out of painting her face this year, but they still put up her hair into an intricate braid before they finally made their way to breakfast while playing some kind of game Robin never quite understood the rules to in the first place. When they arrived in the great hall, they still were terribly early for once, as they sat down at the Ravenclaw table with the boys, who each proceeded to congratulate Robin as well, and she in return thanked them all, especially Simon for the idea with the picture.

Once the hall had filled up with students and staff alike –Robin took careful notice of the fact that McGonagall was once again sitting next to Snape, chatting away amicably while the latter looked indifferent as always– the beginning of the meal was announced, and the foods and drinks were sent up from the kitchens. The moment everyone had been waiting for had finally arrived, and when Robin looked around, she saw more excited faces than she dared to count. Obviously the news about the prank had made their rounds among the student body, and spread even beyond the Ravenclaw table. In the careful attempt not to be entirely obvious about it, Robin then observed Snape and McGonagall. Both of them went with coffee this morning, and if she wasn't mistaken, they both focused on their mugs a little too long before moving to drink at last. Neither of them pulled a face, nor did McGonagall falter in her one sided chat with the bored man next to her, which relieved Robin quite a bit. Once she looked over at Jorien, the girl mouthed a quiet 'thank you', to which Robin answered with a single subtle nod. Then both their attention was drawn back to the head table, when a happy coincidence decided that it should be Morgan who first made a show of spitting out his salted coffee in an indignant spout. A wave of giggles ran through the student body, and while more professors followed Morgan's example mere seconds later, the giggles turned into straight out laughter. McGonagall made an attempt to hide the fact that she had known in advance, going neatly along with the other professors' surprise and outrage, while Snape however merely let his eyes travel over the students in a menacing glare. When his eyes caught Robin's, however, his face brightened up ever so slightly with a not-smirk for a moment, then he continued his cold inspection of the tables and Robin turned back to her breakfast. Perhaps seeing Morgan spitting out his coffee had made her morning a little better after all, and knowing that Snape had succeeded to get McGonagall, out of all people, to play along with this scheme definitely made her both happy and proud.

The day then continued on quite as good as it had started. During the herbology class she helped with, Sprout not only congratulated her right away, but also gifted her a beautiful scalpel-like knife that was small in size, but sharper than Robin thought possible. The gesture honestly surprised her, but the herbology professor insisted that she couldn't continue watching Robin use that old rusty thing she had been using for both her in- and out-of-class work for the last two years. A little overwhelmed but very much grateful, Robin finally accepted the highly useful gift, and stored it in her pocket for now, just before first students filed into the greenhouse.

The next surprise came during lunch, when Robin found yet another wrapped gift waiting for her in her spot at the Ravenclaw table, where her small group of appreciated people was already awaiting her arrival. Upon Robin's inquiry about the package, they all shrugged and said it had just suddenly been there some time after they'd sat down. Her name was written on a piece of paper that was tugged into the wrapping, but she didn't quite recognise the handwriting. Odd… why were so many people giving her gifts for her birthday, all of a sudden? She appreciated it, of course, but it made her wonder nonetheless. Then, encouraged by her overly curious friends, Robin finally unwrapped the gift, only to reveal a small and desperately old looking book. 'The Unforgivable Curses: A detailed study'... The title alone made the hairs in Robin's neck stand up, while the small group of people around here was simply confused. Of course they understood the title, but they were just as clueless about who would give such a book to Robin as she herself was. There was no note, no letter, nothing but the slip of paper with her name on it, which she tugged in between the pages after briefly flipping through them in search for any more pleasant or unpleasant surprises. But it was just a book, a quite rare one if Robin wasn't entirely mistaken, and certainly not of the kind you would find in a school library. If anyone saw her with this, especially one of the professors, they might just think she was up to no good; thus Robin stored it away in her backpack, making sure to inspect it more thoroughly later today. Preferably together with Snape, he knew way more about these things than anyone else, and he appreciated a good mystery quite as much as she did.

After lunch, when Robin was just about to head to her room to pass the time and perhaps change into something warmer before Snape would be done with his classes for the day, she found herself stopped in her path, surprised yet again by something she hadn't quite expected. This time it was McGonagall who, after a quick glance down the hallway, first congratulated Robin, and then also thanked her for the indirect warning this morning. What surprised Robin however was when the professor took her hand, placed a small and surprisingly cold object in it, and then closed her fingers around it even before Robin could see what it was.

"You did not receive this from me, do you understand?" She asked with an intent look at Robin, who in return merely had the time to nod before the professor turned on her heels and was off down the hallway a second later.

Confused, Robin opened her hand again and her eyes fell onto a key that was now resting in her palm, heavy and cold and no less ancient than the book she had already received an hour earlier. What on earth was going on here that she was missing? What was this key for, in a school that –as far as Robin knew– locked all doors with magic anyway? And why was McGonagall so keen on keeping it a secret? Robin couldn't answer either question, but she hid the key in her locket anyway, to keep it safe until she knew what she was to do with it. Then she finally made for her room, with the intention to get some long overdue rest at last.

… … …

Shortly before four in the afternoon, Robin quietly let herself into Snape's office during the last minutes of the class he was teaching next door. She had indeed changed into something warm enough to be comfortable outside (for once!), and then thought it a nice idea to pick him up here to go for her promised walk. That at least would give them a good two hours before dinner, and thus enough time to actually get away from the castle for a little while. Content with her plan, Robin took her perch on the edge of the desk, not bothering to sit down properly for the little time she planned to stay here. It wasn't long indeed before the door between office and classroom flew open, and a very much annoyed Snape stormed into the room, throwing the door shut behind himself again without looking back. Still it took a few seconds for his eyes to find Robin's, but then he stopped in his track while the tension remained written all over his features.

"Don't." Was all he said in a deep and warning tone, and Robin knew very well what he meant, but she just couldn't help it. She had to smile, brightly and without any attempt to hide it, and he rolled his eyes in return, the tension fleeting, while he tried not to smile in return. "You are insufferable. Just let me be angry in peace."

"I'd rather not. Because I can't be happy when you're upset, so logically I will have to see to it that you're happy. For my own sake." She shrugged easily, and her eyes followed him as he moved to drop a stack of notebooks next to her on the desk. "And I'm here to claim what's been promised to me. Before you can find a way to get out of it."

"Whyever would I want to? Wasn't it I who asked for a moment of your precious time in the first place?" He raised his eyebrows at her for a second, then grabbed his warmer robes from the back of his chair. "I would hardly want to miss the narrow time frame I was given to spend with you."

"Oh come on, I'm not that busy! You're the one who had to teach all day… I've just been in my room ever since lunch."

"Napping, as it seems." He quipped, finally unable to keep the not-smirk off his face, and Robin felt called out immediately.

"How the hell do you know that again?"

"Your hair tells me all about it. Admittedly, the difference from lunch to now is very subtle, especially with the braid, but I know what you look like when you wake up. I've seen it before."

The blush that rose to Robin's face immediately was accompanied by a wave of tingles that were equally a result of his words and her own imagination. Yes, they had woken up in the same room before. But not together, in the way she would've liked. Not the time to think about that now.

"Well, you caught me." Robin finally replied, forcing away the previous string of thoughts. "I was napping because I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. I'm fine with little sleep, generally, but less than two hours isn't enough even for me. With the two herbology classes of the first and second years this morning, on top of two meals with the girls, I honestly just needed some rest."

"What kept you from getting a good night's sleep in the first place?" He asked in return, as they left the office and started making their way outside, unseen as always, through the many rooms and passages Robin found herself actually able to remember at this point. She had no idea how Snape even knew about all these shortcuts and secret paths in the castle, but she was glad to have learned about them too. Wandering around unseen was a lot easier like this.

"Oh, you know… just too many thoughts spinning in my mind." She shrugged, careful not to let slip that it had been thoughts about him that had kept her awake. Thoughts about them, together.

"I understand. Your visit also left me thinking for quite a while." He said, as they arrived at the foot of the hill, under the open grey sky at last. "I have come to the conclusion, for example, that you were right. My gift to you may be considered a gift indeed."

"Where did that change of mind come from?"

"I couldn't find an argument against yours. Giving someone a gift is an act of caring, and as you rightly so pointed out, caring extends way beyond the material. Thus a gift should be judged by the amount of care put into it, not its material worth."

"That's pretty much what I was trying to say last night, yes." Robin smiled up at him, doing her best not to trip over anything while they made their way towards their by now common favorite place outside the castle. The shoreline of the lake. "I received three more gifts today, even though I'm not so sure if the latter two go by our definition of 'gift' in that sense. The care as well as the message behind them are kinda, well, untranslatable to me. Anyway, I've been dying to tell you about it all day."

"I'm listening. And intrigued, seeing as once again you just have to build up suspense."

"Well, first there was Sprout." Robin started, in ignorance of his second comment, and pulled the delicately ornamented knife out of her robes, showing it to Snape with a smile. "I was quite surprised that she got me a gift at all, to be honest. We've gotten a bit closer through my assistance in her classes, but I didn't think she liked me enough to even remember my birthday, leave alone to get me anything."

"She gushes about you all the time actually, in the staff room, or during meals… It seems to be one of her favourite pastimes to tell everyone, especially me, about your brilliant work." Snape replied, then handed the knife back to Robin who slipped it back into her pocket. "I'm not surprised that she would give you a present such as this; she holds you in a higher regard than she does with most of her colleagues."

"I certainly appreciate it. The gift, and that she's obviously quite fond of me too. Especially since the other two items that were given to me today are way more confusing in their nature and their circumstances."

"I know you received a book during lunch. What was that about?"

"I haven't got even the slightest idea. Nobody knows who it's from or why it was given to me, and I was hoping you could help me solve this mystery." She said, and summoned the object in discussion from her bag, once again handing it to Snape. "There's a piece of paper inside with my name on it, perhaps the handwriting will tell you more."

He stopped walking once his eyes fell onto the title of the book, and he inspected it for a moment longer until he looked up at Robin once again, in sincere surprise. "I have heard of this book, but admittedly I believed it to be nothing more than a myth. It still might be a mere joke; we will have to find out about that."

"What's special about it? It probably contains a bit more information than we are taught here at school, but that can't be it, right?"

"Supposedly, it contains methods to resist all three of the unforgivable curses. I highly doubt that rumour however, for obvious reasons."

"Obvious to you, perhaps. Enlighten me."

"If there was a way you could cheat a curse that was banned by the ministry, wouldn't they have an interest in making that knowledge known and thereby eradicate the usefulness of such curses in the first place?"

"That definitely makes sense. But perhaps they also believe the book and thus the methods to be nothing more than a myth? Either way, I have this book now, and I have no idea who gave it to me."

"I could give you an answer to that even without looking at the handwriting." Snape scoffed, but opened the book and inspected the snippet of paper nonetheless. "Quite obviously, Professor Dumbledore has an interest in it that you become better acquainted with these curses. I don't have to tell you that this isn't a good sign."

"No…" Robin breathed in return, and if she was honest with herself, she could also have guessed by herself that it was the headmaster who had given the book to her. "If Dumbledore wants me to read this, I bloody better should. No matter what his intention behind it is."

"Indeed. I would ask him about it, but he hasn't been letting me in on anything of importance for a while now, and I doubt that he would give me an honest answer even if I tried. We are better off drawing our own conclusions from now on. May I read the book, once you have?"

"Obviously! It's really not much of a gift and more of a homework assignment the headmaster expects us both to do."

"An oddly fitting way to describe it. Tell me, if that was the second 'gift', what is the third?"

"Something I understand even less." She sighed, then fiddled the key out of her locket to hand it over too. "This was given to me without a comment, without context, and with the instruction to not reveal who gave it to me."

"That certainly-..."

"It was McGonagall." Robin shrugged with one shoulder, giving him a small smile which only widened as his brows furrowed in confusion. "I'm not keeping secrets from you, and she certainly knows that. But I have every intention to keep her involvement a secret from absolutely everyone else."

"If she was concerned about keeping it a secret in the first place, it likely means that Dumbledore doesn't know. This in return means that whatever his reason might be for not wanting you to have the key, it isn't to your advantage. But the key likely is."

"Why do you think so?"

"Dumbledore has long lost his conscience between the bigger picture and his own ambitions, but Minerva will do what she can to protect the innocent from any misfortune. And if said misfortune was caused or tolerated by the headmaster, I believe she will go against his wishes to act on her own conscience instead. Put differently, Dumbledore's concern lies with the school, and its place in the grand scheme of things. Minerva's concern lies with the learning and wellbeing of both students and staff."

"But… that would mean that Dumbledore is willingly letting something bad happen to me. And McGonagall is trying to protect me from it, even though Dumbledore doesn't want her to."

"So far my theory at least, but I have no proof of it other than both our past experiences. It certainly would make sense in the context of both her own words after the incident with Morgan on the first night of term, and also the fact that Dumbledore gave you the book now."

"Oh great…" Robin groaned under her breath and let herself fall back against the tree behind her. "What have I done that makes me everyone's favourite victim? First Morgan, now Dumbledore, and well… There's literally an entire school full of people to pick on! Why do they keep choosing me?"

"I have another question for you. Why does Minerva believe that an old key will help you against either of them?"

"Yes. Great! Thank you for making matters even more complicated." She rolled her eyes with a huff, but felt bad for it immediately. Time to be better than her emotions. "Sorry… that was really unfair. None of this is your fault."

"It's quite alright." He replied calmly and took the remaining two steps to stand in front of Robin, handing her the book and the key. "I can't say I'm not equally concerned about these developments."

"I just can't get rid of the feeling that it all comes down to Morgan somehow. If McGonagall is the proof of a connecting point, back on the day of the welcoming feast and today, it means that Dumbledore sees Morgan as he is, as a threat, but doesn't want to do anything about it. Not because he doesn't care about Morgan's actions, but because he has some grand scheme in mind where Morgan is a chess piece of yet unknown importance and I'm just a casualty he's willing to sacrifice for whatever greater cause. And McGonagall doesn't want that to happen, but she also can't tell me about it because he doesn't want her to. Does that even make any sense? This is a school and not some bloody thriller!" She scoffed as she returned the book to her bag and the key to her locket, then however didn't lean back against the tree. There was too much tension in her body, too much anxiety in her mind, and thus she simply looked up at Snape with an almost sad expression. "Honestly, what am I missing here? I just… I don't understand what's going on anymore."

"Right now, all that matters is that you are out here, with me. You are supposed to have an enjoyable birthday and not a mental breakdown over people who definitely do not deserve it." He said while lightly tracing the outside of her hand with one finger, and when the gesture made Robin smile instinctively, he took her hand entirely and gave it a gentle squeeze. "We will find answers to all the questions, given the right time and opportunity. You and me together, like always. Yes?"

"Yes." Robin sighed, and her smile broadened into a real one that captured the rest of her face as well. "Let's walk on then, shall we? You could tell me what the fifth years did that was so terribly annoying during your last class."

"The better question would be what they didn't do to annoy me. I cannot believe I have to get those dunderheads through their OWLs at the end of the year." He rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, and slowly let go of Robin's hand as they sauntered on, along the shoreline. Oh well… Robin was happy about the gesture nonetheless; as small and fleeting as it had been, it had been initiated entirely by him for once.

"You better start telling me then." She suggested, quirking an eyebrow at him with a smile. "If it's such a long list. What did they do wrong this time?"

"Would you like me to answer chronologically or alphabetically?"

_____________________________

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1989 [High School AU]: Chapter 6

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5 ~ Chapter 7 ~ Chapter 8 ~ Chapter 9 ~

Pairings: slight Logince, eventual Prinxiety & Logicality

Word count: 1,987

Story summary: Roman Prince is your stereotypical Jock, with everyone swooning after him. Every day a crowd of people follow him around, only to disperse at his personal whim. In reality, he's lucky to have such good acting skills that help him cover up the disdain he has for his life. He only wishes he could use his skills properly.

Patton Whitelock's always there to lend a helping hand, no matter who you are. If you need a favor or just need someone to talk to, go to him. In reality, he's been taught from a young age that kindness should be held above all else. No one suspects that he took it the wrong way.

Logan Montgomery is the smartest boy in the Senior class. He's stern, and most people are too intimidated to speak to him. In reality, he despises most all of his fellow students. He sticks to his studies and doesn't stray, for fear of being stuck in his father's shadow his whole life.

Virgil Black is the most emo kid in school, let alone 12th grade; everyone knows to leave him be. In reality, he's very fortunate. He has two parents who love him dearly. But everything beyond his life, everything within his mind, is utter chaos and turmoil.

what will happen when they're assigned a biology project together?

General CW: food, swearing, implied s-lf h-rm, non-graphic descriptions of s-lf h-rm scars, graphic and non-graphic descriptions of anxiety attacks and panic attacks, drug abuse, minor character intoxicated on heroin, non-graphic drug overdose description, sickness/description of sickness, blood, non-graphic descriptions of needles, (will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: food, (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: I hated writing this chapter because I love Logince and I'm intentionally writing this story so that Logince doesn't work and I just- my heart and my creativity have a conflict of interests here :')

...

Roman was left alone in his room, staring at the door where Virgil had slipped out silently a few minutes ago. He'd turned off his music, and was sitting up, staring, thinking.

What was even the point of asking Logan out? I didn't have any interest in him before, he was just a nerd who i never bothered, and he never bothered me... perhaps for the challenge? when I saw him in class today something just sparked, and i felt the need to pursue him. I didn't think he'd entertain it, especially so quickly. And what of Virgil?

What of Virgil?

Roman shook his head and stood, leaving his room to see what his parents were doing, and if he could help with dinner. He needed a distraction, and he knew homework wasn't going to do it.

...

The next few days at school were strange, to say the least.

Patton was the same, as far as the others could see. He tried figuring out some of the routes Logan took to different classes, just a few so as not to seem suspicious, but Roman was more often than not already there and bombarding Logan with his charms. Patton still caught him alone sometimes though, and did his best to make conversation about little things, just wanting to get to know Logan. They had an engaging conversation about Logan's surprisingly extensive knowledge about drug abuse, and Patton was thankful for the bits of advice he could get. They'd also run through proper methods for caring for various species of turtles.

Logan continued to hound himself about why he had accepted Roman's courting after such a short time knowing him, let alone that they were very... different people, to say the least. He'd told his father that one of his friends had requested an outing to a cafe to study for an upcoming calculus quiz. His father was reluctant but upon Logan's presentation of evidence of such atmospheres increasing the effectiveness of studying and concentration, his father granted him permission to go. Logan knew his father would never permit any,, frivolous activities, when Logan had so much academic potential. And Logan made himself feel the same way, acquiring knowledge and more importantly incredible accolades was all that mattered until he was out of school. And yet, here he was, about to go on a date behind his parents' back with a jock, very stereotypical of a teen and yet very atypical for him. He couldn't explain to himself why he'd allowed himself to get into this situation, but it wasn't causing any immediate problems, so he decided to try and let the topic rest.

Virgil was acting stranger than ever, at least from Roman's perspective. He seemed even more cold and distant, except on occasion he'd strike up a conversation. Sometimes they got rather lively, debating about which were the best Disney movies, even if they had very... differing perspectives on what messages they portrayed. Roman was baffled, Because he didn't think someone who was previously unconcerned with Roman for the most part could become so black-and-white, switching between completely ignoring and/or glaring at him, and coming into a room and immediately proposing a topic of conversation.

Roman had his hands full with courting his new love interest, and trying to figure out what was going on with Virgil. Virgil himself was very conflicted. Any time he saw Roman, his feelings became intense and he never knew how to act.

The group's dynamic had shifted accordingly whenever they were in class together. In Biology, Logan was usually hard at work on their report, Patton doing his best to help. Roman often attempting to fluster Logan in any possible way he could, and Virgil, ever unpredictable.

...

Finally Thursday came, and Roman got into his mustang to pick up his date. He drove quietly up to a large white house, with a very systematic garden laid out in the front. He got out and leaned against the closed passenger door, and messaged Logan, letting him know he was there to pick him up.

Logan had hoped Roman would have the sense to pick him up around the block, but upon exiting his house and seeing him directly in front of the house leaning against his red mustang with a single red rose in his hand, Logan brought his hand to the bridge of his nose and massaged it, trying to keep from getting aggravated before their date even began. He walked over slowly, trying to keep an open mind instead of letting his logical self shut everything about Roman's love language down.

Roman had to keep himself from staring. Logan was dressed... well, typically his own style, but... he had gelled his hair back so it became one big dark tuft instead of it's usual gentle messiness, and he had on a silk navy button up and a black bowtie instead of his trademark necktie. He had on Black corduroy pants that accentuated his slender legs, and white and blue converse that complemented his shirt and pale skin. Roman was impressed at the attention to detail yet the simplicity of his date's outfit, and was indeed that much more attracted to him.

"Well hello there," Roman said as Logan neared, looking him up and down, "don't you look ravishing."

Logan's cheeks glazed a bit. "As do you," was all he could think to reply. Roman had on a dark red v neck and a black and gold baseball jacket, dark grey ripped skinny jeans with a silver chain, and red checkered vans. Logan realized he'd let his eyes linger on Roman's exposed collarbone a moment too long. God, why am i acting like this?

Roman just smirked and stood aside, opening the passenger door he'd been leaning on and making way for Logan. Logan sat, his knees nearly touching the dash. Roman got on one knee and dramatically presented Logan with the flower. Logan smiled gently and took it, examining it. Roman shut the door and made his way around to the driver's side and got in.

"Will you relay the whereabouts of our destination or will it remain a mystery to me?" Logan asked as Roman opened his door, not looking up from the flower.

Roman smiled with a glint in his eyes. "Well it would be no fun if i were to spoil the surprise, now would it?" He put the key in the ignition and started the car, and the engine hummed smoothly to life. "Completely unrelated to said surprise, but have you had dinner?" Roman rolled down his window and rested his forearm on it.

"Yes, unfortunately I follow a strict meal plan." He adjusted his glasses.

"Well, i wont question that, but that works for me." Roman left it at that and pulled out his phone.

"Would you happen to have a music preference?" Roman asked as Logan smelled the rose, and finally set it down in his lap.

After a moment of thought, Logan replied, "Well I suppose not. I don't listen to much music other than classical on occasion, and at this point i find it rather..."

"Boring?" Roman mused.

"Insufferable," Logan smiled.

"Alright, I'll enlighten you to something other than Beethoven and Bach," Roman reached for the aux chord, plugged his phone into it, and picked a particular song he felt was... fitting for the moment. The song intro began, and Roman pulled the e-break down and shifted into first gear, pulling out onto the road.

he said "let's get out of this town,

Drive out of the city, away from the crowds..."

I thought "heaven can't help me now,"

Nothing lasts forever...

Logan watched things pass on the road, absentmindedly tapping his ankle to the beat. He didn't recognize the area of town they were heading to, but he didn't expect Roman to kidnap him or anything, so he just observed.

But this is gonna take me down

He's so tall, and handsome as hell

He's so bad, but he does it so well.

I can see the end as it begins

My one condition is

Logan looked straight ahead at the road now, wondering if Roman had selected this specific song for any reason.

Say youll remember me,

Standing in a nice dress

Staring at the sunset babe

Red lips and rosy cheeks

Say you'll see me again

Even if it's just in your

Wildest dreams, ah, hah...

They were driving up a hill now, and the road was getting steeper. Logan was beginning to wonder if he should have just rejected Roman from the beginning.

Roman sensed his unease, and turned the music down so that it was just background noise. "I promise I'm not about to murder you in the woods," he said with a small laugh, "There's just a nice spot up here to... observe," he assured vaguely, glancing at Logan.

He nodded with a small smile from the passenger seat, returning to looking around as they passed sloping driveways and mossy-trunked trees.

Just moments later, they emerged into something of a clearing, with a cul-de-sac and a large meadow. There were clusters of small flowers and clovers all over, and the trees cleared perfectly to display the sun was crawling toward the horizon.

They parked and Logan got out, and turned to realize Roman was still in the car, seemingly reaching behind his seat awkwardly and rummaging around. He emerged with a plastic bag and a rolled up plaid blanket. Roman locked the car and led them to the meadow, where he dramatically unrolled the blanket and laid it out, after ruffling it in the wind. Logan sat cross-legged facing what would soon become the sunset, the bottom of the sun's visible sphere nearly dipping itself below the horizon.

Roman sat as well, beginning to dig through the mystery bag, Logan now paying him attention. Roman pulled out two large paper cups, with plastic tops and straws in them. He handed Logan one of the cups, and Logan began inspecting it. It appeared to be a milkshake, likely chocolate flavored due to the brown hue... It looked rather delightful. Logan took a sip and was not disappointed; he'd never actually had a milkshake, at least not since he was very young, so he had to attempt to hide his enjoyment.

"That is quite tasteful," He looked back to Roman, who was tasting his own milkshake.

"Yeah, you struck me as a chocolate type," he leaned back on one hand. "Hope you like the view. I thought it would be nice as a first date to watch the sunset and talk."

Logan gazed out at the sky that faded from blue to purple to red to orange and a bit of yellow, clouds peppered around and absorbing the hues. He certainly did appreciate the view.

"Alright, let's talk then."

...

A few hours later, it had gotten dark and stars were spattered across the sky. Logan was laying with his hands behind his head, watching the sky, and Roman was laid next to him, leaning up on his side and watching Logan's eyes. They'd talked about anything, from childhood memories to opinions and briefly about their home lives. Roman felt very... usual. Everything was going perfectly, and he could feel that fact slamming against his chest. Do I actually like him or is this all just a game to me? Am i being fake, or completely real?

Soon Logan checked his wristwatch and informed Roman it was time he be heading home. They stood, and Logan shivered as Roman collected the blanket. He sighed upon seeing Logan's arms loosely held around himself, trying to keep warm.

Roman rustled his baseball jacket off and draped it over Logan's shoulders.

They made their way back to the car, and as Roman drove them, all Logan could do was lean his head on the window and stare up at the hazy white moon.

Roman dropped him off, walking him up to his door. Logan thanked him for the evening, and tried to return Roman's jacket, but Roman insisted he hold onto it. They shared a small kiss on the doorstep, and bid each other goodnight. Roman drove off into the night, pondering heavily.

[helloprettybb]

previews

I have a lot of things in the works, so I thought, why not show some previews. I don’t know when a majority of these are coming out, but I promise they will eventually. There are a lot more than just these, but they aren’t as fledged out. The title names may change in the future, once I finish, but the summaries will be the same. The eta’s may be really off, but I’ll try to get them out.

orders

summary- you disobey Steve on a mission and now you have to pay the consequences.

current word count- 2.3k

eta- 8/17-8/21

“What did I say?” Steve asks, once you close the bedroom door behind you. His voice is low and angry, which is scarier than if he were yelling. If you were being honest, you deserved his exasperation. What you did was reckless and completely disobeyed orders, but in the heat of the moment, you didn’t really care.

“Retreat,” you mumbled, knowing how much trouble you were in. Steve hadn’t spoken to you since the mission ended and the two of you could be alone. The moment the jet landed, he stormed off to his room. Steve didn’t even need to tell you to follow him, because you knew whatever was coming would be much worse if you didn’t.

“And what did you do?” Steve questions, knowing you knew the answer.

“I proceeded with the mission,” you replied, head low and eyes stuck on the ground. You were usually confident and brimming with enthusiasm, but on the receiving end of Steve’s anger, you couldn’t even lift your head up. Steve senses your timidness, so he grabs your chin and forces you to meet his eyes. Unlike their usual softness, his eyes are tough and piercing. You fight a little to lower your head, but Steve’s strong grip stops any resistance. You know he’s angry with you, but you can’t stop the dirty thoughts that rushed in your mind.

“You did. And what happens when you disobey orders?” Steve asks, his tone leaving you trembling beneath him.

“I get punished,” you answer meekly.

-

captain idiot

summary- Steve finally tells you how he feels, but then tells you it won’t work. Maybe a couple of people can knock some sense into him.

current word count- 943

eta- late august-early september

It’s the day you’ve looked forward to since you joined the Avengers and you’ve never wanted a day to end more. It was actually a good day and when Steve told you he wanted to talk, you thought it would be even better. Oh, how ignorant you were.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” you ask, trying to contain your excitement. You bite the inside of your lip to prevent the giddy smile from forming. Sitting beside him in the common room, you force your leg still as you wait for him to speak.

You’ve had a massive crush on Steve ever since you joined the team. Actually, you liked him even before that, when you saw him on TV for the first time. You were only sixteen at the time, but seeing people like you saving New York inspired you. All of your life, you’ve been ostracized and cast out for your abilities. While your parents tried to be supportive, they still held some fear. You don’t blame them, especially after your accidentally split the house in half with a tree.

You were only seventeen when you first met Fury. He offered a position on the team. At the time, you wanted to attend college, so you declined, but you kept in touch and after graduating, you decided to join the team. Tensions between the team were high as Steve, Natasha and Sam just rejoined the team and the Accords were dropped. But gradually, strain eased and the team seemed back to normal. Tony started talking to Steve and Bucky even joined the group. Everyone lived in harmony, until today.

“I don’t know how to say this, so I’ll just be blunt.” Steve states, his intense eye contact piercing into your soul. “I like you. More than just a friend.”

You try to remain calm, but you can feel the childish joy rise in your chest. Steadying your tone, you reply, “I like you, too.” For some reason, Steve doesn’t smile, but looks more serious.

He sighs and asserts, “I was afraid you’d say that.”

-

swindler’s trick

summary- Steve Rogers needed to clear his head. Haunted from the war and his past relationship, Steve sets sail for England to reunite with an old friend and hopefully distract himself from his life in America. His distraction comes in the form of a beautiful young girl, who proves to be a worthy distraction, but will she be enough to help Steve move on from his past?

current word count- 7.3k

eta- mid-september

“Perfection is relative, old friend. You’ll understand when you find it.” Anthony advises wisely and as if on cue, an angel walks through the doorway. Well, not literally, but you are the closest thing to a saint on earth.

With your smooth hands and polished nails, you don’t look like a servant, but for your status, you dressed rather simply. As opposed to a large, decorated dress, you donned a dark, modest gown. You dressed closer to a middle-class maiden than a noblewoman, yet Steve took note that no outfit could diminish your beauty. Instead of the intricate up-dos he’s seen many high-class women wear, you have your hair down and pulled back.

Anthony notices your entrance and greets, “Y/n, dear!”

Steve knew Anthony favored beautiful women, but he did not expect for him to marry someone so young. Steve’s seen his fair share of older men and young partners, but he didn’t think Anthony would be that kind of man.

Strolling up to Anthony, you greet him lovingly by placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. Turning to Steve, you acknowledge politely, “Hello, sir. To what name shall I call you?” The moment you address him, Steve forgets every word in the English language. His mouth runs dry and he starts to regret denying Anthony’s tea offer.

Your stunning beauty and air of confidence fluster Steve and he manages to stutter out,“I- I am Captain America Rogers. I mean, Steve Rogers.” Attempting to recover, he clarifies, “I’m from America and I served as a Captain in the Army.”

You laugh lightly and Steve could have sworn an angel acquired its wings. “Well, Captain America. I appreciate the background information, but I figured from your accent that you were not from here.” you quip.

Anthony glares as you and gently scolds, “He is an old friend, y/n. Please be nice.”

You smile softly and tell him, “Oh papa, I hold no malice. It was a simple jest.” You turn to him and say, “But if any offense was taken, I do apologize. I’m aware that my tongue can be quite scathing.”

-

powers of persuasion

summary- you’re an expert assassin with ‘powers of persuasion’ who happens to be at the top of S.H.I.E.L.D’s most wanted list. catching you was the easiest part, now comes the hard part: turning you into an Avenger.

current word count- 1.4k

eta- mid-september

You are one of the most insufferable, arrogant, rude people he’s ever met. You are the one handcuffed to the chair, not him. Yet you acted like you were the one in control. No, he had the upper hand in the conversation. You definitely did not fluster him when you implied something about the handcuffs and Steve certainly didn’t imagine a scenario where he’d put the handcuffs to use.

Fine, you’re attractive, but you already knew that, which is one of the worst qualities about you. You know that you’re beautiful and use that to your advantage just to mess with people’s minds. That and your actual ability to mess with people’s minds.

Steve didn’t think he’d get that angry in such a short span of time, but something about the smug look on your face and unfazed teasing made Steve want to snap the table in half. He had to leave and clear his head.

Steve leaves the interrogation area altogether, needing to get as far away as possible. He talked to you by yourself, which was his mistake. Hopefully back at the base, he can find someone who will sympathize and agree that you are selfish, annoying, disrespectful...

“She’s joining the team,” Fury states. Steve couldn’t even hide his reaction, as his jaw dropped and eyebrows furrowed.

“Fury, are you serious?” Steve asks instinctively. While they are basically the same rank, Steve still treats Fury with respect, but right now, all of that flew out the window.

“Yes, Rogers. She’s useful.” Fury responds, “Not only is she an expect fighter, her persuasion ability will be advantageous.”

“So what? She’s untrustworthy!” Steve exclaimed, his voice rising more than he’d like.

“Well, learn to trust her,” Fury says in his blunt tone that shuts everyone down. “Besides, it’s better to have her on our side.” His last sentence shut all of Steve’s protests down. When Fury sees that he ended the argument, he places a key in Steve’s hand and commands, “Bring her to the Compound. You’re training her starting tomorrow morning.”

Before Steve could start another argument, Fury walks away and leaves Steve alone with his angry self.

the flirt

summary- Peter’s a sucker for British accents. Especially when they’re attached to a beautiful girl with glowing eyes.

current word count- 1.1k

eta- unknown

Peter Parker is a very anxious person. Whether it was asking strangers for help or working in group projects, he found it very difficult to speak up to newcomers. So when Mr. Stark called from a mysterious location and told him the Avengers gained a new member, Peter instantly began to worry. He asked for any information on them, but Tony insisted that it should be a surprise.

“Do you know who it is?” Peter asked Clint. He’s spent his entire morning bugging everyone at the compound. So far, he’s received a groan from Bucky, a ‘go away’ from Sam and an ‘I don’t know’ from Wanda.

“No,” Clint replied bluntly. subtly turning the knob on his hearing aid to block out Peter’s pestering. Nat looks up from her phone and shakes her head.

“You’re not going to get anything from us, kid.” Natasha simply states. Peter plops beside her on the couch and Natasha doesn’t even try to hide her eye roll.

“Wait, so you do know something?” he asked. His bouncing irritates Nat and she puts her phone down.

“Yes, but I won’t tell you. Besides, Tony will be here in a couple hours.” Nat says. Peter flops on the couch dramatically.

“But I can’t wait a couple hours!” he announces. Fed up with his antics, Nat gets up from the couch and leaves Peter to his thoughts. What if the new person doesn’t like him? It took him years for the others to like him and they still get annoyed. Now he has to get another person to tolerate him!

Peter bounced between pacing his room and annoying the other Avengers as he waits for Tony’s arrival. He only stops when Bucky threatens to ‘put him to sleep.’ Peter then, on his own, decides that he’ll stay in his room for the rest of the time. He’s pulled out of his thoughts when F.R.I.D.A.Y announces, “Mr. Stark has arrived.”

“O-okay voice lady,” Peter replies nervously. He sprints downstairs and meets with the others at the compound’s entrance. Steve’s standing with his arms crossed and stoic like usual. Bucky’s arms are also crossed, but he has a bored expression on his face. He doesn’t know why he’s so bored. There is going to be someone new living with them!

Natasha and Wanda on their phones, probably texting each other so they don’t have to talk in front of the guys. Sam leans down and tells Peter, “They call her the Green-Eyed Monster.”

He knows Sam only said it to scare him, but what kind of name is the Green-Eyed Monster. She must be evil to get a name like that. And if she’s evil, why would Tony willing bring her in. Wait, Sam said her?

As if on cue, Tony Stark opens the doors and following behind him is the most beautiful girl Peter’s ever seen.

[datheetjoella]

Fantober 2020, Day 25: Enemy>Lover

Author: DatHeetJoella Fandom: Free! Pairing: MakoHaru Rating: T Part: 25/31 (read the full collection here) Word count: 3,006 Tags: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Developing Relationship, Strangers to Lovers, First Meeting, Prince!Haruka, Prince!Makoto, Prejudices Read at: AO3, FFn, or right here!

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

If there was one thing Haruka had known since he was a child, it was that when he came of age, he would be married off to a member of royalty or nobility of some foreign realm. As the crown prince of Tobi, that was his destiny and he made peace with it years ago. But when the day for him to meet his spouse-to-be arrived, he was everything but okay.

“Come on, Haru,” Nagisa said as he poured more hot water into his bath. “Don’t get all sulky before you even meet him. Maybe he’s actually really nice!”

Haruka huffed and averted his head. Nagisa might’ve been bubbly and optimistic, but Haruka didn’t share his positivity. The biggest hurdle for him was not that he was being married off, but to whom and what this arrangement entailed.

The lucky bachelor was Prince Makoto Tachibana. He was the oldest child and heir of the Tachibana family and the crown prince of Iwa, a neighbouring kingdom that was relatively small but still twice as big as Tobi.

Although Haruka had never met the guy, his status and title were enough to determine what he’d be like. In years of mingling with those who shared his destiny, Haruka had learned that they were all the same: arrogant, snobby, disrespectful and insufferable. They’d snap their fingers and expect servants to kneel at their feet, holding up their shoes on a golden platter. Barked out orders like they were better than everyone else because of the simple fact they’d been born in a palace instead of a shack. That was exactly the kind of person Haruka couldn’t stand.

And to make matters worse, he was going to have to share his precious kingdom with him and rule over it by his side.

The main reason their engagement commenced was that Tobi was, to put it frankly, bankrupt. The sea levels were rising and a recent flood destroyed both houses and crops, leaving a large group of people homeless and starving and his parents were at their wits’ end, unable to solve the problems that had befallen their realm.

The kingdom of Iwa had offered their help in exchange for a formal alliance and a marriage. But there was one issue: Haruka was an only child and the daughter of the Tachibana family had not nearly reached a marital age yet. Instead, their eldest son had proposed an alternative. The marriage would take place between the two crown princes and the kingdoms of Iwa and Tobi would merge into Unified Iwatobi, which would be ruled over by both Haruka and himself. It was merely a political marriage, as the princes would be allowed to have their own families if they pleased, and in turn, their firstborns would rule over Iwatobi as a pair.

A kingdom with two kings, it was a revolutionary concept and an absolutely ridiculous one at that. The instant Haruka heard of it, he knew it was a scheme of this ‘Makoto’ to steal the land of Tobi to expand his own kingdom. He’d play the sympathetic prince for their subjects, but behind closed doors, he would enforce his dominance and undermine Haruka’s sovereignty, to eventually become the sole ruler of Iwatobi. While Haruka hadn’t cared about becoming king and leading the realm, he’d rather die than play in the hand of some power-hungry narcissist.

But his parents and their advisors hadn’t agreed with him. Out of desperation, they accepted Iwa’s proposition and no matter how much Haruka protested or how many counter-arguments he presented, they wouldn’t budge. His fate as Prince Makoto’s puppet was sealed and he was incredibly bitter about it.

Three overly polite knocks on the carved door pulled Haruka from his brooding thoughts. “Yes?”

The door was slowly pushed ajar and Rei poked his head around the corner. “Your Highness, I do not mean to disturb but,” he said, but when Haruka sent him a scowl, he sighed. “Prince Haruka, your parents are waiting for you in the throne room. Prince Makoto and his delegation arrived over half an hour ago and it would be… appreciated if you came down to greet them.”

“I will,” Haruka grumbled, “After I’m done with my bath.”

“Forgive me for intruding, but you’ve been in the bath for nearly three hours already. Your fingertips are pruned and the water must be freezing by now.”

“It’s not, come feel for yourself.” Haruka gestured toward the bath, trying his best to appear nonchalant.

Rei didn’t seem fazed. “How many times did you refill His Highness’ bath, Nagisa?”

“Hm.” Nagisa scratched at his chin in contemplation. “About seven times?”

“Nagisa! You need to be more responsible. You know this is a grand day for Prince Haruka.”

“I know. He’s just nervous and taking a bath relaxes him, so you shouldn’t be so hard on him.”

“I’m not nervous,” Haruka said defensively, facing away from his retainers with a pout. He knew that, in their own ways, they both had his best interest at heart. Rei wanted him to be punctual and presentable when meeting important people, while Nagisa enabled his evading behaviour because he knew Haruka struggled to come to terms with this ordeal and found solace in the water. This wasn’t worth the argument between them. In the end, Haruka was an adult and had to own up to his fate. “I’ll get out, so tell my parents I will be down shortly.”

“Thank you,” Rei said, adjusting the spectacles on his nose with a self-satisfied puff. “I shall tell them to look forward to your swift appearance.”

Nagisa rolled his eyes at his colleague’s formality; after years of friendship, Rei still felt conflicted calling Haruka by his preferred nickname, instead switching between his titles. That was very different from Nagisa, who'd been casual with him since they were kids. Although Haruka liked them both equally, he did prefer Nagisa's easy-going nature.

With the click of the door, Rei was gone and Nagisa and Haruka were alone again.

"I get that you're not happy about this situation, I wouldn't be either," Nagisa said as he held out Haruka's towel. "But you can't just make assumptions about Prince Makoto. Not every prince is stuck-up and spoiled, you're not like that either. So why don't you give him a fair chance? Who knows, maybe you'll end up liking him a lot."

Deep down, Haruka knew Nagisa was right. He highly doubted he would get chummy with Makoto, but perhaps he had to give him the benefit of the doubt. If he was every bit as awful as Haruka imagined, then he would find that out soon enough. No need to get ahead of business.

With a semi-renewed outlook on the predicament, Haruka got ready with Nagisa's help. He wasn't vain at all, but if he made a strong, confident impression, he might’ve been able to thwart Makoto's possible ploys before they could come to fruition.

Clad in his finest cobalt blue suit and with his crown on his neatly-combed hair, Haruka descended the stairs and walked towards the throne room. With his head held high, he swung open the doors and strolled in, graceful and in control.

And then, he laid eyes upon Prince Makoto and he had to pick his jawbone off the red carpet.

An elegant green jacket adorned his broad shoulders, white trousers hugged his legs and behind and tall boots supported his lean, muscular form. For a prince, he was dressed surprisingly modest, but if it weren't for the brilliant crown placed on his messy brown locks, then his aura would've been enough to betray his status. His back was straight, feet planted firmly on the ground like an unwavering oak tree, sturdy and assured. This was what a man who was prepared to lead a nation looked like.

But Haruka's heart didn't stop until Makoto peered back over his shoulder and revealed his face.

Ever since he was little, Haruka had been told by folks he encountered how beautiful he was and he hadn't found any reason to disagree with those comments. But Haruka's beauty paled in comparison to Prince Makoto. His jawline was sharp with a chiselled chin and rather round cheeks, but that added to his charm. His lips were full, his eyebrows slightly upturned and his nose complemented all his other features. But his eyes were the ones that took Haruka's breath away.

They were vibrant and green like he was wandering in a hedge maze with no exit. Mesmerising like he didn't even want to find a way out. But most of all, overwhelmingly kind.

When Haruka noticed he was staring at Prince Makoto while everyone else was staring at him, he quickly shut the doors behind him and stumbled over to his parents' side. If only he hadn't lost face yet; Prince Makoto might’ve been handsome, but that didn't mean he was trustworthy. Haruka shouldn't let his guard down.

"Haruka, I'm so happy you could finally join us," his mother said with a wide smile, but the daggers she shot at him through her gaze informed him he was in for an intense scolding later.

"Thank you for waiting for me," Haruka said with a feigned smile of his own. "I'm glad I got the opportunity to be here because it is an honour to meet you, Prince Makoto."

"I feel the same way, Your Highness," Prince Makoto said and damn, his voice sounded like violin music on a sunny afternoon. "The honour is entirely mine, as I feel grateful you were able to find the time in your undoubtedly busy schedule to come and greet me."

Prince Makoto ended his play with a deep bow and Haruka’s eyebrows furrowed. Was he mocking him? Usually, Haruka was pretty good at reading people and all the signs told him Makoto was being sincere, but he couldn't believe someone would seriously say that to him after the way he acted.

Perhaps Haruka was the obnoxious, entitled prince in the equation. "Of course, Prince Makoto, we are honoured to welcome you into our humble palace."

"Well then," his mother interrupted before this charade could drag on for hours. "Haruka, why don't you show His Highness around our… humble palace?"

"Certainly, Mother," Haruka said, "Prince Makoto, would you please follow after me?"

"It would be my pleasure," Makoto said and the smile on his face hadn't lessened; in fact, it was like it grew even softer, as though fondness twinkled in his eyes. Haruka must've been hallucinating. "Please lead the way, Prince Haruka."

With Makoto trailing behind him, Haruka took him via the sunroom straight outside to the gardens. There, he'd at least be able to catch some fresh air as he listened to the bragging and boasting that would probably stream out of Makoto's mouth like a polluted waterfall.

They walked down the steps onto the path between the tidy yet lively garden. Hydrangeas, begonias and geraniums were plentiful and not a single branch was out of line on the trimmed bushes. This was Haruka's favourite spot on the entire castle grounds for a reason.

"These gardens are beautiful," Makoto said, turning his head from left to right and back again as though his brain couldn't process what his eyes were registering. "Perhaps the most beautiful I've ever had the privilege to walk through. Your horticulturists must be very skilled."

"I guess so," Haruka shrugged, unsure of how to answer that. Of course their horticulturists were skilled, else they wouldn't employ them. But Haruka swallowed that comment because he felt himself becoming the villain he feared Makoto to be.

When he glanced to his side and didn't see Prince Makoto beside him, Haruka frowned. Had he scared him off already?

When he looked back, Makoto was standing several meters behind him, head downturned.

"Prince Makoto?"

"I… want to offer you my apologies."

Haruka's frown hardened. "Apologies? For what?"

"This arrangement, it was my idea," Makoto said, facing back up and for the first time since their meeting, his smile was gone. "I hope you understand that I only suggested it because I wanted to help. When I heard about the situation in Tobi, my heart broke and I wanted to do everything within my power to aid your people. I know it might not have been my place, but if something like that were to happen to my people, then I would appreciate all the help we could get. When human lives are at stake, I believe our pride as leaders should not stand in the way of doing what is right."

Those words surprised Haruka. Maybe he had judged Makoto too soon. In the very least, his morals seemed to be in check.

"I certainly don't want it to appear as though I find you and your family incapable of ruling over Tobi by yourselves, but this was the only possibility I saw to overcome this issue. After all, Iwa's resources are limited and I could not convince our advisors to come to Tobi's aid without expecting anything in return. They wanted concrete assurance that Tobi would have our backs if such a disaster were to occur within our borders and said I was naive if I trusted you without a formal arrangement. In that regard, I failed and I owe you an apology for that." Makoto bowed to him once more, even deeper than last time.

Haruka was at a loss for words. He kept staring at Makoto's folded back, mind blank and he didn’t know how to comfort him, if that was even the correct response.

When Makoto straightened his spine, he continued, "But I am not against this arrangement and the merging of our kingdoms. No matter how extreme the circumstances would get, I would never propose something so outlandish if I didn't believe it was beneficial to both of our kingdoms. Together, we'll be so much stronger in times of trouble, but I would be lying if I said part of the reason why I am in favour of this isn't selfish."

"Selfish?" Haruka asked. From what Makoto had told him, he acted out of pure selflessness.

"To be honest with you, the thought of becoming king and leading our realm has always been a bit frightening to me,” Makoto said, shuffling his feet as he averted his eyes. “Ever since it was decided I’d be crowned within a few months, I’ve had this tight knot in my stomach. Being the king is such a big responsibility, I’m afraid I won’t be able to fill my parents’ shoes, that I’ll make foolish decisions and that my people won’t like me. Of course, I know I’ll always have the support of my parents and my advisors but I just… I feel like I’m not ready at all.”

At that earnest confession, Haruka’s mouth fell open once again. Makoto appeared so reliable and certain, he never would’ve guessed he harboured such insecurities. Perhaps it was because he felt so lost that he hid it so well.

“I’ve never told anyone this before,” Makoto admitted as he scratched at his cheek, “But that’s why the thought of merging our kingdoms appealed to me; so I’d have you by my side. Carrying the weight of a whole kingdom seemed a bit lighter if I could share it with someone, that’s why I advocated for this particular arrangement. I realise now that’s very immature and egotistical of me, so I apologise again for wanting to push my burden onto you.”

If Makoto was being completely honest - which Haruka had no lingering doubts about at this point - then it wasn’t that he wanted to steal Haruka’s land and title, but wanted to push part of his own onto Haruka’s plate like they were vegetables he couldn’t stomach.

Haruka had never been extremely thrilled about his duties either, albeit for different reasons than Makoto, so it wasn’t like he didn’t understand him. While he hadn’t thought of this arrangement as being a shared burden, the idea didn’t sound all that unpleasant to him now he did ponder it over. Perhaps this wasn’t as ridiculous as it initially seemed. 

“It’s okay,” he said after a moment of silence, “I suppose I don’t mind shouldering half of your weight as long as you shoulder half of mine.”

“Certainly,” Makoto said, nodding vehemently. “I do want you to know that I don’t expect anything of you. I mean, we’ll be getting married through this arrangement, but that doesn’t mean you’ll be obligated to do anything. I want you to continue to live your life the way you please, the way you always have or the way you envisioned, without minding me. I do hope we can become friends, but if you prefer for our contact to be strictly political, then I understand, Prince Haruka.”

“You shouldn’t be so insecure about everything, because you have no reason to,” Haruka said, turning around so Makoto wouldn’t see the blush he could feel burning on his cheeks. “And just Haru is fine. We’re getting married, aren’t we? There’s no need for such formalities.”

An audible gasp left Makoto’s lips. “You’re right, Haru,” he said with a warm, melodious chuckle.

“Are you coming? I’ll show you the rest of the garden,” Haruka said as he resumed walking. Before Makoto could ask something that forced him to unlock his heart, he changed the subject. “What are your favourite flowers?”

“Camellias,” Makoto said as he matched Haruka’s pace, “Do you have any bushes?”

“We do, I’ll take you to them.”

Together, Haruka and Makoto wandered through the vast and lavish gardens. During the short time since they met, Haruka’s opinion of Makoto shifted completely and now, he was convinced they would become the friends Makoto hoped they’d be.

At that point, he had no idea yet that when they got married a few weeks later, he’d say his ‘I do’ with a wide smile and that the ceremony would be ended with a true, tender kiss.

[koolkvat-blog]

       hello  loves  ,   what’s  up  !   i’m  super  excited  to  be  here  &  to  finally  play  my  precious girl  ,   jade aka kool kat   .   i’m  LOLA  ,   use  she / her prounouns  ,   i am NINETEEN  ,   &   i  am  currently  in  the  gmt + 1 timezone  which  means  yes  ,  my  ass should’ve  been  awake  for  intro  posting  but  i  don’t  know  what  time  management  is  and  ended  up  swamped  w/  work  ,  so  !   everything   you  need  to  know  about  about  miss  kat  is  under  the  cut  ,   &  i’m  rlly  thrilled  to  be  apart  of  such  a  wonderful  rp  with  such  gorgeous  muses  .  corniness over  ––   if  you’re  looking  to  plot  sumn  out  ,   just  hit  that   ♥︎    &   i’ll  make  my  way  on  over  to  ur  dms  ,  or  feel  free  to  add  me  up   on  discord  which  i’ll  give  in im’s  if  anybody’s  interested  !   ♡♡♡         tw  :   family issues  ,  body image issues  &  drug mention  ( not  explicit ) . 

001 . SYNOPSIS  . FULL     NAME  .      jade        kikuchi . NICKNAMES  .      kool kat    . AGE  .      twenty - one . DATE     OF     BIRTH  .      twenty  -  seventh     of     september   ,     1993      /     libra . PLACE     OF     BIRTH  .      harajuku ,   tokyo ,     japan .         GENDER  .       cisgender     female . SEXUALITY  .     (  closeted  )  pansexual  . NATIONALITY  .      japanese  ,  now  american  too  after  successfully  gaining  citizenship  . ETHNICITY  .      asian  . OCCUPATION  .       fashion designer at katz designz      ,     former  fashion  design  and  journalist  student  back  in  her  original  timeline  . PLAYLIST  .      here  !  (  +  )     charismatic , enthusiastic , warm , energetic , adventurous , compassionate , animated . (  -  )     deceptive ,  independent ,  emotional , territorial , ambitious , impulsive , temperamental , insecure , sarcastic .  

002 . AESTHETIC  .      wheatgrass  smoothies , 90′s  anime  with  subtitles  , chanel  no. 5, speeding  on  a  desert  road  with  the  windows  down ,  painting  your  toenails  on  the  dashboard ,  neon  prints ,  cat  lazing  on  a  balcony  in  the  sun , black  lace ,  japanese  horror  films  ,  sour  cocktails  with  sugar  around  the  rim , half - smoked  cigarettes ,  stacks  of  fashion  magazines , long  hair  hastily  dyed  different  colours in  a  motel  bathroom ,  thrift  stores   .

003. INFORMATION  .

tl;dr : a flighty, inattentive adventurer: a follower of whims; personable and sociable but lacks the skills to maintain relationships because she’s entirely (and perhaps too) career focused, checks her horoscope daily and entirely relies on the stars when concerning relationships, epitome of a britney spears / gwen stefani stan back in the 2000′s, still owns a (bedazzled) flip phone, collector of vintage fashion (chanel, elle, juicy couture etc.) a subscriber to the Leonardo Da Vinci sleeping method; catch her at 2 am making soufflés or buying plane tickets to shiwei so she can really experience the culture: will tell you she loves you ten minutes after first introduction because she’s high: kind of unintentionally insensitive to those she doesn’t know and closed off but in like a cool, lovable way. 

•    heads up im running on like 5 hrs sleep so sry when this inevitably derails ! ok sweet let’s get into this . 

•    so as aforementioned this is jade kukichi, aka, kool kat. she was dubbed that by her friends due to her unique fashion style and sense of dress, and it’s stuck. lbr nobody other than her friends can use that term so if you do, she’s just going to stare at u for a quick sec before saying ‘it’s jade’. 

•    born in harajuku, tokyo to a cardiothoracic surgeon of a father and a politician of a mother, jade grew up traveling the world and becoming flighty af, never thinking she was going to make long - term friends and kinda being okay with that. 

•    her family has never stayed in one place for very long, though her aging parents eventually settled into a permanent residence in the us around the time she turned sixteen, not soon enough for jade to break the habit of wandering, but thankfully quick enough for her to meet the bratz girls who were just as adventurous and fun - loving as she. she's spent much of her teen life jumping from place to place wherever her interests are that moment, collecting people along the way, but to find friends was the only thing she was missing. jade has a brilliant mind, but she lacks patience and follow through. she needs guidance or she'll jump from idea to idea, job to job, whim to whim.

•    ngl, jade pretty much hated her home life. her parents were an overbearing presence in her life, her mother wanting jade to be a proper lady who also went into a profession like theirs (entirely serious and stifling when it came to creativity, doctor, politician, lawyer etc.) while jade herself wanted to check out the latest trends and go to the mall w her friends – so she turned all of her focus and energy into getting good grades in everything she wanted to do in the hopes that she could be the most successful fashion designer, then leaving town forever. 

•    like she spent 7 yrs in high school graduating w honours but she barely knew what was happening in 9/10 of her classes and sometimes she just slept through classes and then wing her exams which she miraculously did well at. it was just not a good idea to send jade to a public school at 11 after being in boarding school for the rest of her life and then never really enforce any rules :~\ she has trouble with that kind of thing.. as in making logical choices instead of saying "YEAH lets go watch american psycho and smoke weed!" skipping chemistry to do just that 

•    she loves fun and values doing what makes her happy over most things. it's hard to pin her down and she spends most of her life chasing after ideas that don't really follow any sort of conscious order, bc she’s really got that ‘i’ve got dreams and i’m gonna do everything in my power to achieve them’ personality. 

•    according to bratz canon she’s worked as literally everything ? she’s one of those insufferable people who r just. good everything ig and that’s just how it is on this bitch of an earth. jade’s been a photographer, a song - writer and bass player in a rock band (shout out to bratz rock angelz the best movie w the best soundtrack ever), a student studying fashion design, a fashion columnist, a quickly fired nanny, and many other things in between. 

•    so when she appears in toonsville she’s kind of out of it that she’s not doing something w her skills and sets up her own business which she loves ? being her own boss suits her fine (for now) because she’s got a Real Job and she's actually trying rly hard so she can fulfill her dreams !! like suck it mom nd dad haha !!!

•    jade has a lot of weird feelings TM about her body and her looks and struggles a lot with her self confidence :~( she had a shit time at school with boys saying she was too thin and she compensated by acting like she didn't like anyone at all for a while and now she thinks she isn't good enough for anyone when rly she is a cinnamon bun too good for this world too pure 

•    best friend ever she is so good at being a friend if u text her at 3am to go out or cry on her shoulder shes ready to go at 3:15 even if she was sleeping w lots of snacks and treats and love!!! she is sooo extroverted around those she’s comfortable w, she gains so much energy from being around people and she loves being nice and being around ppl she likes 

•    she becomes the mom of groups pretty easily (hence why she’s the leader of the bratz) bc she bottles up most of her own problems to help ppl with theirs!! which is toxic yea but she puts people first always so !! plz help her poor repressed soul!! rip kool kat.. 

•    still super into the stuff of her time so like.. she loves the x files and bad reality tv shows (i want to be a hilton) and reads gossip magazines on the reg because she enjoys that stuff! also very into girl groups.. ginger spice / posh spice is an eternal mood.  

•    anyway yes sweet adult-child of 21 (she is in denial about that tho like she doesn't want to be childish) who is v nice v kind v loyal v baked a lot of time, v passionate v silly. idk what i'm doin hope u like it < 3

004. WANTED CONNECTIONS . 

friends / best friends / ride or dies . jade genuinely loves people, loves talking to strangers and getting into intense conversations with people she’s only just met, learning other people’s way of life and bettering herself for getting. she is, however, incredibly blunt and has never once minced words to keep from hurting someone’s feelings or to ease them into a situation. she’d much rather have a one-time conversation with a stranger than make long lasting relationships. she has three very close friends –  to the point of co - dependence –  and honestly, she’d rather spend all of her time doing things she loves such as her hobbies, sticking her nose into the latest vogue, or searching for cute collars and treats for her cat mica w them instead of making new friends. she's also FUN and she'd be happy to go on crazy road trips or buy out a movie theater for a day or anything that she thinks will her buds happy. she's traveled all over, so she’s v well read and cultured. she loves people but she hates complication and won't deal with any sort of emotional labor. she wants to live in the moment and expects everyone in her life to do so as well. just be chill, y'all. 

frenemies / enemies /  rivals  . please be her enemy, she needs people to antagonize shdhshd. she grew up pretty much affluent so she’s pretty spoiled even if she doesn’t want to admit it, and that rebellious side of her hasn’t died down yet. despite the fact that she is wealthy and in good community standing, she has a hard time letting go of childish grudges. in general she’s got a lot of suppressed feelings and ready to fight everyone who hurts her friends – like an irritated cat – so, honestly, come at her ? she is sometimes a little fickle and flighty and a unintentionally stuck up when it comes to art / fashion and she has definitely said the wrong thing at the wrong time and pissed the wrong people off, she can’t stand anyone underestimating her or thinking she’s dumb bc she’s interested in fashion. like gtfo !

ex’s , fwb’s , possible love interests .  jade is fairly fluid romantically and is the type of person who hates labels but also just wants to be cherished and called cute pet names lowkey. she loves a lot and gives a lot to her relationships, but typically doesn't want to commit to anything important. she’s gone from one disastrous relationship to another, ending up with a boyfriend who constantly ridiculed her image that was essentially the catalyst for her cutting off romantic ties, quite a recent wound before she found herself on the island actually. worst thing is tht she’s convinced herself that she’s been the problem in these relationships –  that she turns good people bad or that she is too much for people to deal with, she’s not sure what the issue is and she doesn’t really want to know. so…. fuck everything amirite ? anyway, she’s a strong independent woman who don’t need no (wo)man. 

etc . pls give me people jade can give a makeover to, people she shares an apartment w on the island, people who think fashion is girly and vapid.. creatives who love what she’s doing, anything tbh << 3

[xavierdominico-blog]

My review of League of Legends

We initially reviewed League of Legends at 2009, when it initially introduced. It's changed significantly since that time, so much that we chose to review it .

What can it be?

She understands I am there. She just can not see me entering the shrubbery too --nullifying her array edge and letting me shut in with my Aquaman-esque trident. So rather, the Caitlyn participant requires a potshot to the field having a skill that hurts in a direct line; no targeting demanded.

It is sufficient to kill my diminished winner Fizz in 1 hit. Additionally, it is exactly what I have been awaiting. Fizz can pogo jump on his trident, which makes him immune to these led attacks, and jump forward in a destructive slam. I utilize the momentum to dodge Caitlyn's burst and shut the space she wished to keep. One lunging strike afterwards, the contested is dead in the dirt, and a soul of gold and experience points just prepares me farther for another battle.

Such tense one-on-one, do-or-die struggles happen in each League of Legends game, however the adrenaline in these minutes makes them memorable. League is a lens which amplifies every emotion about the spectrum.

Every game is like a whole multiplayer action-RPG condensed into 20-to-50 moments. Each player begins with only control of one unit and one particular ability. They are divided into two teams of five and let loose from each other within a top battlefield. Smiting enemy components in real time makes experience and gold, which grant access to stronger abilities and a selection of better equipment. The group that wins is the group that best leverages its components' specific strengths.

Your final aim is to destroy the opposing group's headquarters. The combating largely occurs across three streets leading to every"Nexus." Each path is safeguarded by AI sentinels and individual players distressed to warrant their own use of free time.

I really don't blame them. In addition, I need my in-game announcer to yell"success" and warrant the strain and valuable life span I invested demolishing virtual warriors and towers. I would like to feel like becoming flanked and murdered five occasions in the first half hour has been worthwhile to get your own last-minute push into enemy land that cinches the triumph --because I had the foresight to decide on a late-game winner made to return from behind. The psychological investment in these strategic gambles is increased by the period of the games, raising the high of success, while creating every minimal texture that much lesser . It is a recipe for both friends and perfect strangers to flip their frustration on every other, including a private layer to each perplexing loss.

League of Legends' pay-per-character business version pushes against mastering the sport and knowing how its winners play.

Every game you re-dedicate to playing an important role on a staff, such as support or tank, attempting to accrue experience, cash and rewarding player kills quicker than another group. Nevertheless, the actual investment in League of Legends goes far beyond this. You can find 140 playable characters and climbing. That is not even such as passives from mix-and-match runes, or charms which may be outfitted in front of a game begins.Between the absolute scale of factors at play, and League's well-documented toxicity (even the match's own programmers are not resistant to it), it is among the most daunting matches ever.

League does little to alleviate any of the strain. Allowing countless gamers to become civil is a demanding, probably Sisyphean endeavor, but easing players to League's sophistication needs to be more viable eight years following launch. This is the way you pick a winner. This is the way you buy them a wonderful pair of sneakers. This type of thing. Where it's flounders, or barely even attempts to help in any way, is in describing when and why you need to apply those principles to some given situation.

League of Legends' pay-per-character business version pushes contrary to mastering the sport and knowing how its winners play. It is going to take you a few decades of grinding, the greater part of a million bucks, or a mixture of both to unlock the entire roster indefinitely. There is a weekly rotation of free personalities, also, but not one of those choices compare to on-the-job instruction. When I get crushed by Ryze, for example, I could spit over his kit beyond the match, but nothing is a true stand-in for understanding the way he manages under my index finger.

This free-to-play version remains a significant impediment into LoL's availability --and of course its'innocence' as an esports occurrence --and a few strange UI options do not help, either. You can not analyze a winner's skills from the select display, as an example. Likewise, you can not peruse an opposing player's abilities mid-match.

But if you work beyond the competitive team conversation and devote an whole lobe of your mind to memorizing movement rate and cooldown timers, League's high highs return quite lots of lost ground. I have developed the patience to just start Brand's fiery, bouncing death-ball if it is certain to ricochet off each enemy winner.

At its finest, League of Legends is aggressive, high-energy mathematics. Maintaining your attack damage take, the staff tasked with pumping out constant damage in large staff struggles, in one of 3 lanes to soak up gold and experience points may only provide you the increased amount. Then again, possibly moving them about to land the profitable killing blow squishy, defenseless affirms is your thing to do.

At its finest, League of Legends is aggressive, high-energy mathematics.

Success is not only a prefabricated strategy coming together. The understanding that reside human beings are supporting the track, inventing their own approaches to prevent me, means that I have well and truly outplayed individuals of apparently similar ability.

And thanks to League's relatively speedy action--only marginally twitchier than Dota two's yawning chess games and a hair more than Heroes of the Storm's blatantly accessible skirmishes--there is an awareness of physical domination, also. Among the most powerful jelqing in Dota, as an instance, continues for a maximum of five minutes. A very similar ability at League of Legends shirts out at roughly two-thirds of this. When I am overly fussy to step from the manner of Ashe's knockout strike in League (each time), I am back to ditching magic missiles that far quicker. If I reside.

As games advancement, things purchased with hard-won gold create player-versus-player struggles more prevalent and ferocious. The Dark Cleaver, a key in-game thing for Illaoi, among my favourite winners, supplies a wonderful cushion of wellness and a few attack power. Maybe more incredibly, the chopper also slows down its wielder's skills significantly quicker. So do a number of different products.

The consequent shorter period between spell casting raises the speed of struggle without taking away the attention from specified character abilities. I understand Illaoi summons ghostly tentacles together with her passive capability. Things like the Dark Cleaver simply call the tendrils to my help faster, and allow Illaoi reach harder in between. They seldom ask me to recall over her fundamental spells.

So while getting into League takes a lot of memorization, mastering it's much more about finesse. Every player begins every game with limited tools. The wiggle room for outdoing competitions is largely found in response time and accuracy. Or you may be playing just and your competitors, but losing anyhow.

The solution is that it does not. It is simply not necessarily the same clique of favorite children month .

That altering assortment of S-tier selections, bans, and personality builds is known as the meta, and I have always known League's to become only slightly narrow. When a specified strategy functions, it has a tendency to work really well, and the top echelons of aggressive play cling to it for dear life.

In 2017, it had been the insufferable tank . Immortal abominations such as Dr. Mundo and Maokai spent this age whomping each other with the seriousness of a Nerf war whilst dragging out every game to double its normal span.

Twice monthly spots make small but significant changes to the mathematics behind the mayhem. Each such alteration nudges optimal champion options in 1 direction or another, but there is essentially never a totally level playing field.

There is always a possibility the numbers will tell you to decide on a specific tank or support which simply does not strike your fancy. That is a simple fact of life in almost any aggressive game. However, League's often slender circle of top-tier winners restricts those choices even further. And because you do not have access to each given champ in any particular time, you might be stuck using the lemons of this meta until grinding enough humorous cash to rejoin the contest.

That should not matter much in casual sport buffoonery. Teamwork and ability are the higher factors . There is an all-random winners manner for people who would rather have silly fun with charm slinging. But if I am currently dedicating myself into League's learning curve, then I need the guaranteed payoff of a correctly tactical brawl. Along with also the'principles' of this meta that begin at professional drama finally trickle down to my degree. It is absolute candy for each armchair analyst seeking to blame for their loss on anybody but themselves.

I have been advised to not play my favourite wizards for this very reason. I have been told my triumph did not count since I was being"cheap" I have seen new players leave games since a noxious teammate always blamed their inexperience to get a ruined turret. Nevermind that everyone started someplace. As frequently, it is another crack for this notorious rust to float in.

A certain type of variety Luckily, League of Legends includes a great range of fantastical weirdos to select from. Illaoi is my existing go-to: a brawny, squid-worshipping priestess that siphons enemy spirits with a large, iron skull.

Not all the character style is that trendy.

There is nothing inherently wrong with hot personalities, but League's devotion to girls with a slender and busty body kind feels on par with these pop-up advertisements for sexy Clash of all Clans clones. It is a disappointing position quo for winners that typically play with in interesting ways. The musically inclined Sona, for example, sports a superbly challenging mixture of service abilities that vary based on the sequence she uses .

Every smart shortcut involving lanes, or tap of the key that a nanosecond quicker than your competitor feels like a triumph.

It is that variety of drama which produces LoL so intriguing. Sure, maybe not every winner or spell functions in addition to others on paper. But there is a seemingly endless flow of these to attempt . Say Fizz had neglected me contrary to Caitlyn. Maybe I could teleport from the way as Ezreal, or halt the attack from happening by magnificent Caitlyn with New (Correction: a previous version of the review misstated among Jinx's skills ). League's strong roster is among the greatest strategic toyboxes readily available now. Odds are you will never cease being amazed by the amazing ways that your human foes utilize them to slide past and creep upon you. You will surprise yourself, also.

Maybe League of Legends is becoming only a little complacent in the decades since it established. The sexed-up costumes and obstacles to entry feel as the goods of a rather major game which has not had to increase its viewers in some moment. But breaking beyond those issues finally rewards new gamers with grand, amazing complexity. Every smart shortcut involving lanes, or tap of the key that a nanosecond quicker than your competitor feels like a triumph. League makes these minutes downright ordinary, but barely less special for this. And its always changing roster means there is another suggestion simply waiting to slip up your sleeve.