#promptly lost all sense of reason and exploded

[not-quite-humann]

[cozycottagevibes]

~DiScUsSiOn TiMe!~

I know how people are voicing speculation and concepts and stuff about how Leola might come back because of how Startouch Elves are "immortal beings of the cosmos" and just, like, exploded.

Like, IF she did come back, would she fall out of the sky like a shooting star and her star, the brightest star in the sky, "Leola's Last Wish" would just... disappear? 'Cause that'd be a catastrophe for navigation. Or would she just appear/spawn like... BAM! Would Aaravos sense if she came back or be entirely ignorant to it?

On the topic of Aaravos, if Startouch Elves DO come back, why wouldn't he want to join her in the stars so that they could rejoin the world together? Why wouldn't he spare himself having to mourn his literal CHILD? Because he doesn't want her to be forgotten? Because he wants to AVENGE her? He could do that even if he came back with her, so I don't know.

Back to her coming back, wouldn't it be funny if she just-so-happened to come back, say, near The Silvergrove. And Ethari, who had been going to pick moonberries or something, just-so-happened to find her?

So, we have a lost little Startouch Elf and a depressed Moonshadow elf who thinks his husband is dead and all he knows about his daughter in all but blood is that she's alive (because of the lotus). Obviously, he'd take her in, he's ETHARI.

Would he tell the rest of the village or hide her away? That, I don't have an answer to.

If he told the village, I doubt they would do anything besides kill her or something. I mean, look what they did to Rayla. They GHOSTED (a fate worse than death to them, I'm sure) a fifteen year old with no clear evidence besides the fact that she was the only one alive from a practically SUICIDAL mission (it definitely goes deeper than that and I might make a post about it, but don't count on it). I wouldn't call people like that the voice of reason.

So, it'd probably be better if he didn't tell them and instead hid her away.

However long he takes care of her, I'm sure they talk and grow closer. Leola comes to see him as at least a bit like her father after getting over her panic of appearing in an unknown place, which was definitely by no means terrifying.

And Ethari? He has something to live for again. A person to take care of. And maybe Leola reminds him a bit of little Rayla (minus all the sharp bits).

Meanwhile? If Aaravos CAN sense Leola, then let's say he can also sense where she is. After finding out his little girl, the whole reason he's doing all of this is alive, I'm sure he drops everything and goes after her (of course, Claudia and Terry will go to).

Once he gets there, since he's a Startouch Elf, and one of the "Great/First Ones", he'll easily get past the illusion shielding The Silvergrove.

With Claudia, he probably razes down The Silvergrove, kills some elves until he finds her. When he does find her? He sees a Moonshadow Elf standing over/shielding her. I doubt that goes over well. To Claudia, it'll probably look like the Moonshadow Elves kidnapped her, so she'll 100% be on Aaravos's side.

Anyways, since Claudia is a dark mage what if she puts them all into a coma or sleeping trance, or turns them to stone, or they just all evacuate and no one knows what happened to them, or something else entirely?

Staying true to the "turning your enemies to stone" thing, after Aaravos gets Leola, wouldn't it be cool if Claudia turned all the elves to stone like her father did to Avizandum? And Ethari, while turning to stone, brings a hand to the sky and casts a spell that's like a flashbang that brings attention, and promptly turns to stone completely while a singular tear falls from his eye (Avizandum parallels, anyone?).

After that, they leave to continue the plan (no matter how much Leola pleads for them not to and tries to stop them even though she doesn't really know what's going on because that's her DAD).

Then, when Rayla and Runaan are close to The Silvergrove to tell Ethari that Runaan is alive (which they won't get the chance to do now), they see the words "Silvergrove has fallen" blazed into the ground (because Aaravos is dramatic) and are both horrified. Then they get there and see Ethari's statue (and just AAAAAGGHHHH). I need to see their faces and how they'd react to that.

They both think in their own ways. Rayla probably blames herself (she just lost one of the two parental figures she has left after saying goodbye to the other two and most likely thinks this happened because Aaravos and Claudia were trying to get at her (maybe Runaan even blames her a little, if subconsciously).

Runaan on the other hand? It's terrifying for him. HE'S the assassin, Ethari knew when he married him that Runaan would probably die on a mission. But Runaan? It's HIS job to be in danger. ETHARI'S supposed to be SAFE in The Silvergrove. Runaan's not prepared to lose Ethari because he always knew/thought that he'd be the first to die. He's not prepared to live in a world without him (so now he's going through the grief of his partner dying, the exact same thing Ethari was/is, but Ethari had been prepared for it (not that it made it hurt any less)).

Obviously, they're frustrated because they can't do anything right now because of Aaravos and swear to find something to free him and everyone else afterwards (maybe even get so angry that they try to do/do something rash like go after Aaravos?).

And that isn't even going into how Terry feels when Aaravos and his girlfriend raze a whole VILLAGE to the ground and turn EVERY ELF into stone, including the CHILDREN. That's bound to make him think over some things and which side he should really be on.

Or, what if we move onto a new concept. Everything still happens like this, except Leola's not in it. Like, Aaravos burned down Katolis, which was Callum and Ezran's home, so what if he tries to burn down The Silvergrove since it's Rayla's home (even if it's not really anymore, she'd still be devastated). I doubt he knows that she comes from specifically The Silvergrove, but he's Aaravos, so I'm sure he'd find out easily, adding the fact that he has a dark mage on his side? Piece of cake (now I want cake, specifically chocolate).

Anyway, I know this definitely won't happen in season 7, but, it IS a cool concept, at least to me (and I'd love to hear your thoughts on it!).

[lansplaining]

re: golden core reveal - wasn't JC actively attacking LWJ and (bleeding and semi-unconscious) WWX when WN arrived? I get that this fight was a misunderstanding and an overreaction from everyone involved, and JC didn't really want to kill or injure anyone, but if WN only arrived at the scene when he heard the sounds of fighting, I can totally see why he was so mad at JC lol, it probably looked like he was trying to kill WWX for some reason

YEAH okay so

(sorry this got long)

Jiang Cheng follows Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji into the temple and starts accusing them of fooling around, which I'd totally forgotten is actually the part that really upsets Wei Wuxian. And then he attacks first!

Wei Wuxian saw the change in Lan Wangji's expression and thought that Jiang Cheng's words had stung him. He was so angry that his entire body shook. He didn't even dare imagine what Lan Wangji thought of being insulted like that. His fury blazed brighter, blood rushed to his head, and he flung out a talisman.

The talisman was fast and merciless. It struck Jiang Cheng on his right shoulder and exploded with a thunderous bang, causing him to stagger. He hadn't expected Wei Wuxian to strike so suddenly, and his own spiritual powers had yet to fully recover. As a result, the blast caught him head-on and his shoulder began to bleed.

Disbelief flashed across his face, and Zidian shot from his finger, sizzling and flashing haphazardly as it lashed out (249, 7S trans.).

So then a fight breaks out between the three of them, Wei Wuxian's like wait this is terrible and nearly passes out. When that happens--

Jiang Cheng's expression changed too. He retracted his whip, then blinked, looking alert (249, 7S trans.).

[...]

Jiang Cheng was both shocked and suspicious-- shocked by the disturbing sight of Wei Wuxian bleeding so suddenly from his seven orifices, and suspicious that this was an act he was putting on to escape. After all, Wei Wuxian often used such tricks to prank others.

Seeing they were both about to leave, he barked, "Hold it right there!

Lan Wangji fumed, "Get lost!"

With his words came an abruptly raging Bichen. Immediately after, a flash of purple lightning hurtled forth as well. Both divine weapons struck each other, letting loose a long, ear-piercing yowl. The impact of this noise gave Wei Wuxian a splitting headache, and like a flickering candle flame that was finally extinguished, his eyes closed and his head drooped low.

Sensing the sudden weight on his shoulder, Lan Wangji promptly extracted himself from the melee to feel his breathing.

With Bichen's master no longer supplying it with power, Zidian immediately advanced towards them. Jiang Cheng, who didn't actually want to injure Lan Wangji, instantly pulled back his strike-- but it seemed it was still too late.

Just then, a figure leapt from nowhere and stood between them (250-1, 7S trans.).

So Wen Ning jumps in, Jiang Cheng asks how he dares to enter Lotus Pier, he's so angry he's laughing... and he still isn't actually attacking Wen Ning or anyone else. Wen Ning immediately offers him Suibian and jumps into the golden core reveal. Obviously, it's set up so we don't know how much of the preceding exchange he saw, but in actual fact we've gone from a fight that Wei Wuxian started to a second round that Lan Wangji started, and where Jiang Cheng never actually intended to hurt Lan Wangji and tried to pull back as soon as Lan Wangji abruptly stopped fighting.

You're totally right that by entering the fight once Wei Wuxian is passing out, it looks like Lan Wangji is trying to desperately defend Wei Wuxian from attack. But even then, the move that Wen Ning intercepts is Jiang Cheng trying to withdraw Zidian and back off! He decides that the only possible way to de-escalate this fight is by revealing Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng's darkest secret before he even tries to, say, help hold off Jiang Cheng physically so that the other two can escape (or, you know, distract him with some other subject).

It just really felt like a sudden escalation to me reading it this time, even accepting that Wen Ning is leaping into a situation where a) everyone has already been misreading Jiang Cheng's intentions the whole time and b) he missed the beginning of the conflict so he doesn't really have context.

(And also the context is......... Wei Wuxian is mad because he incorrectly thinks Lan Wangji is offended by Jiang Cheng insinuating that they're hooking up lol)

[arctrooper69]

Enemies to Lovers: Tech

A/N: Sorry it took so long! If you want to be tagged in this or any of my other stuff, feel free to shoot me a message!

@zoeykallus @ttzamara @nahoney22

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Warning: Brief mentions of broken bones and injury. Typical canon violence.

Chapter 5: Meet the Family

_________________________________________

Tech’s pov

Tech carefully watched the woman on the ground beside him as she slept. Y/N looked peaceful despite the fact that just minutes ago she’d gone white as a sheet when Tech examined her broken leg and then promptly passed out when he’d set it. She hadn’t made much of a fuss though, and for that Tech was very glad. He was certain he could physically keep Y/N still if he had to but he would rather not deal with all the drama. Dealing with emotions was something Hunter was naturally good at. He knew the right things to say while Tech always seemed to say the wrong thing. It was annoying. After all, wasn’t it only simple psychology? Tech frowned as his thoughts drifted to his brothers. He hadn’t heard from them since the explosion cut off their exit. He tried his comlink again and was met with a cold silence.

Jammed. Or the signal was lost when the ceiling caved in.

Y/N mumbled something in her sleep and he glanced over at her. With the anger and fear gone from her eyes, she looked younger.

Peaceful

It was such a stark contrast to her earlier attitude. Tech brushed a stray hair from her face. Y/n smiled and moved to nestle her face into his hand. He froze and almost wished she’d wake up and be repulsed by him - or even angry with him. Anything to get rid of this feeling that invaded his senses. It made him feel weak and Tech could not afford to be weak.

Not here.

Not with the empire breathing down our neck.

No, it was simply a reflex. She was cold and his hand was warm. It was only natural that the human body reacted in such a way to seek warmth.

Self preservation.

He nodded to himself, convinced now that there were no unexplained feelings. Just chemical reactions. He had let his imagination get the better of him, something he’d not done for a very long time. He must have hit his head in the explosion. Yet another reason to do a scan once they returned to the Marauder. Tech frowned in concentration as he turned back to the broken comlink. If only he could get somewhere higher to boost the signal.

The console.

That could work.

Carefully taking the wires from the bottom, he hooked one to the left of the com and the other on the right. With a few more tweaks, the comlink crackled to life.

Not perfect, but workable.

“Tech…respond...out…ship…signal” Hunter’s came through the static in pieces. Hopefully the connection would be better on their side. “Tech here,” he began. Best to keep communications short and simple. “Trapped in the console room. Heavy fire has blocked the exit.” His message was met with more screaming static. He was beginning to think the signal had dropped again when Hunter’s voice cut through again. It was much clearer this time.

Thank the Maker.

“…loud and clear, vod.” He could hear Wrecker whoop in the background.

“Good. However, the information has been compromised.” He replied steadily.

“That’s less than ideal but we’re gonna get you out of there. Hang on tight and get away from the door.”

“Understood.” Tech quickly backed away from the entrance just as a loud bang resounded, shaking the walls. The rubble blocking them in burst apart. Tech ducked to avoid being hit by the debris. Light from a headlamp streamed through enough to see Wrecker’s frame burst through the opening.

“See,” he shouted behind him, “I told you it wouldn’t collapse on ‘im!”

“I’d just like to get out before the whole kriffing thing explodes,” grunted Crosshair, annoyed that Wrecker was right. But at the same time, he was glad that his brother was safe.

“Crosshair was worried about ya, Tech.” teased Wrecker.

“Was not. I knew you were smart enough to not get yourself killed even with Mr Blow-It-All-To-Hell over here” Crosshair snarked back.

“Of course I’m smart enough to keep myself alive,” Tech rolled his eyes.

“Guys, enough,” said Hunter coming from behind his two brothers. He glanced at Tech, “Glad you’re ok, but Crosshair is right. We need to get out of here before the whole thing blows.” As if on cue another tremor shook the room. He looked past Tech to the unconscious figure behind him and frowned. “Who’s that?”

Tech glanced at y/n, “She was decoding the information when I arrived. She’s injured.”

“I say leave her,” Crosshair glanced over and then back into the hallway, narrowing his eyes.

“We’re not leaving her.” Tech said harshly. Hunter sighed and nodded at Wrecker who lifted the woman in his arms and began carrying her out the door.

“She could have useful information.” He motioned to Crosshair who slung his rifle over his shoulder and took the rear. Another explosion rocked the ship as the console burst into flames. “We need to leave. Now”

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

“…Y/n…”

“….empire….could be a threat…”

“…have some questions…”

Voices faded in and out. Tech was there…with some others.

His brothers.

He’d mentioned something about his brothers before. The room was cold. I shivered and opened my eyes.

Too bright.

I groaned and shut them again.

“She’s awake,” a low voice stated. I opened my eyes again, squinting at the brightness until my eyes slowly adjusted. A tall, gray-haired man with a toothpick in his mouth leaned against the door frame across the room, arms crossed. He had a tattoo of a blaster scope’s crosshairs on his scowling face.

Interesting choice.

He was wearing armor similar to Tech’s.

He doesn’t look too happy.

Nervously, I went to reach for my blaster but was stopped short by the binders securing my wrists to each side of the bed.

Shit. Not good. Very not good.

I gulped, my throat was dry and I felt suffocated.

Pull yourself together!

Breathe.

Don’t panic.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled at the restraints, testing them, trying to free myself.

“Hey, calm down.” Another voice drifted through the room. A man made his way over to me. He had longer hair and the side of his face was heavily tattooed. He didn’t sound threatening, but he didn’t sound calming either. It was more like a command. “We’re not going to hurt you, y/n” he said.

“Yet,” growled the taller man by the doorway.

“Crosshair,” the long haired man warned, giving him a sharp look. Crosshair shrugged and spat out his toothpick before walking out of the room. The long haired man looked back to me and crossed his arms.

“How…” I began. My voice was hoarse and dry. I coughed, swallowing thickly. “How do you know my name?”

“Tech told me,”

“Tech’s here?”

“Yes.”

I looked down at my leg. It didn’t hurt much anymore. Someone had affixed a bone mender to it. He followed my gaze. “Your leg should be healed in a few hours.”

“Thanks?” I spoke cautiously. “Am...am I free to leave?” I pulled at the binders again. He shook his head,

“You’re not going anywhere right now. Not until you answer some questions.” Tendrils of panic gripped again at my lungs, threatening to cut off my air supply. I took a deep breath, trying to will away the suffocating fear.

“And if I don’t?” I narrowed my eyes at him, hoping I didn’t sound as strangled as I felt. My heart pounded.

Torture

Pain

Death

Mutilation

I was sure nothing good was awaiting me with his answer, but he only shrugged,

“Then I guess you’re stuck here.” I huffed in annoyance.

“Hunter?” Tech rounded the corner looking intently at a datapad. “I think we…” he stopped and lowered the datapad. “Oh, you’re awake.”

[vocalcalibration]

I think one of the most bizarre additions to the Sonic cast has to be Zavok from Sonic Lost World.

Less so due to anything the character actually does or how he looks, both of which being fairly unremarkable, but much more to do with how Sonic Team has used him after his introduction.

After he was introduced in Lost World he and his compadres, the Deadly Six, faced a fair bit of criticism from fans due to being a bunch of one note villains that were evil for evils sake and each had one character trait each. The leader, the fat one, the old one, the girl, etc. The amount of people who liked them was notably outweighed by those who didn't and that was half the reason people assumed they wouldn't come back.

The orher half was just due to how they handled them in Lost Worlds story. They were both really important to plot, in the sense that they hijacked Eggmans robots and used his big succ machine to destroy an entire planet out of pure spite resulting in the sort of on screen death of Amy Rose. Alternatively they all had shitty boss fights that started and ended with very little fan-fare and then for the final boss everyone in the plot forgot about them as Eggman became the final boss again. They were both the driving force of the narrative and completely irrelevent to how things concluded, especially since everything they did was just quickly undone come the end of the game.

Zavok would return for the following Sonic and Mario at the Olympics game, which while kind of odd given his lack of popularity and other, more iconic characters, not getting playable slots, it was still fairly understandible since he was quite new still and it was just a mini-game collection. From here a lot Zavok would show up in the comics, mobike games, that kind of stuff. Nothing intrusive but most people weren't exactly thrilled to see him.

His next notable appearance would be Team Sonic Racing.

His appearance in this game is notable for one reason. TSR absolutely hates Zavok. First of all gone is his strong, independent, schemeing persona that Lost World presented him as. Now he's a big lunk who's all "strength good. I respect strength." He's Dr. Eggmans lap dog. He screws up litterally everything he attempts to do in the story and all of the other characters shit talk him from beginning to end. I think the only one who doesn't is Metal Sonic, and Metal cannot speak. It's like the game tripped him and then everyone in the cast took turns kicking dirt in his face. What results is that it feels like the developers REALLY didn't want to put him in the game but corporate mandates forced it. Granted I don't KNOW if that's the case, but it feels like it.

And finally we find ourselves at the end of all eternity, otherwise known as Sonic Forces.

Now Sonic Forces is a strange game from start to finish, and stranger still is how Zavok is handled. You see one of Forces big selling points was the return of fan favorite villains, and Zavok, all teaming up to kick Sonics ass. These would later be revealed as illusions and were all handled in different yet equally odd ways. Shadow and Chaos both have a cutscene with next to no impact on the plot and then they're out of the story as villains, Metal Sonic gets a boss fight where he's giant for some reason before promptly leaving the plot and Zavok also has a single fight atop a large robot bee before, again, promplty exiting stage left. What's notable about Zavok is he's the only one of these illusions who actually speaks, now granted neither Chaos or Metal can speak at all, but I digress. He taunts Sonic before promptly getting egg on his face and then we fight him. Of course the other notable thing is this, with all of the other illusions they show and are quickly dispatched with a single hit, or in Metals case the fight ends and he simply explodes. Zavok? We watch Sonic beat the shit out of him, what's more it's basically a quick time event so we get to contribute. It's not graphic or anything, but we get to watch Sonic repeatedly perform his three hit combo from smash brothers for each segment of Zavoks life bar and for finishing him off. Additionally Zavok is one of the first bosses in the game yet nothing like this comes up again for the rest of the, very short, adventure.

So what was the point of this blog? Really I just wanted to highlight how no one seems to win with this character. The majority of Sonic fans don't like him and his cronies so his repeatedly showing up is an annoyance, the developers seem to hate him as much as the fans but are forced to put him in, corporate or Iizuka or someone is forcing him into the games but it's very doubtful his presence drives up sales so they're not making money off of this and finally the few fans he does have don't even get to enjoy him being here because he's constantly treated like the punchline to a joke with no set up. Zavok is, absolutely, the strangest addition to Sonics cast, and this is a series with a character literally called Black Doom.

With all of this said it looks like Sonic Frontiers is moving far away from the concepts, characters and worlds that have been introduced since Sonic Colours, so something tells me we won't be seeing Zavok again outside of maybe some spin-offs or comic books. Zavoks departure from the franchise would mark an end of an era of sorts... or maybe something less dramatic, who knows.

But that's all I got for ya. Get lost willya?

[cinlat]

Whumptober 2021: Day 19

No. 19 - JUST A SCRATCH bitten | bleeding | stabbing

Characters: Sith Fynta & Ahuska ( @dingoat​) Fandom: swtor Affiliated Fic:  Whiskey and Tihaar & Top Shelf

Word Count: 804  Rating: T Guest: Ahuska *art by Dingoat

Fynta didn’t like stables. She didn’t like animals, or the crunch of hay beneath her boots, or the potential surprises that hay hid. She hated the smell of animal feces and musk. So did the Sith she had traveled with.

Picking her spot, Fynta planted one foot and brought the clunky lightsaber up in an arc. The blade’s output had been reduced enough to cause only mild burns without the potential for severing limbs, and scorched the wooden support beam it rebounded off of. Fynta hissed out a curse and staggered into one of the stall doors. It swung open, dropping her onto her ass and sending a shock of pain through her torso so intense that it stole her breath.

Boots thumped across the grated floor to reveal the silhouetted image of a Bothan against the lights. “What the shabbing hell are you doing in here?” Pale eyes darted to the lightsaber still burning in Fynta’s hand, the smoldering of the hay it touched, then Ahuska’s lips pulled back to show an impressive array of teeth.

“Easy,” Fynta gasped, holding up her hands and deactivating the weapon. Movement of any sort sent a wave of agony through her side, but she swallowed it and clambered onto unsteady feet. “It was on low, see?” Fynta pointed to the darkened wood, but that only added to the rage in the Bothan’s eyes. 

Ahuska looked into the stall that Fynta had struck, then snorted. “You’re lucky that one was empty. Now out. You are not welcome here.” The shove that accompanied the command hadn’t been gentle, but not strong enough to elicit the curse that exploded through Fynta’s clenched teeth. 

Ahuska’s ears flicked forward, then she sniffed the air. “You're hurt.”

Fynta huffed a pained laugh at the accusation in Ahuska’s voice, then pressed one hand to her side. Though neither were particularly friendly, their paths had crossed enough over the years to develop a peculiar relationship built on secrets, lies, and grudging trust. “Blasters aren’t very good at deflecting lightsaber strikes.” She’d managed to hide the blistered skin from her fellow assassin, but Fynta couldn’t take the chance of it happening again.

“Neither are you, apparently,” Ahuska retorted. Outwardly, the Bothan still wore the same look of contempt that Fynta had become accustomed to. On the inside, she was light and warmth. Fynta hated how much that drew her in.

Sighing, Ahuska held her hand out for Fynta’s lightsaber. Seeing no reason to deny the woman her request, she handed it over. The worst she could do was add another burn to Fynta’s ego. Ahuska flicked the blade on, lifting one brow at the pale blade. “This isn’t yours.” Again, accusation laced each word, this time, Fynta had earned it. 

Shaking her head, Fynta forced a grin. “I...lost mine shortly after joining the academy. That one’s on loan.” Though, its previous owner wouldn’t be coming for it again. Fynta had started with a red blade, like all Sith at the academy, but had promptly spaced. At the time, Fynta had hated everything it stood for. She hadn’t seen the practicality of such a weapon until it was almost too late. 

Ahuska chose not to ask about how Fynta had acquired the weapon. Checking over her shoulder, both of the Bothan's ears swiveled towards the entry. Fynta reached out, sensing for life beyond their quiet sanctuary. Seemingly satisfied, Ahuska activated the blade and performed a complex array of steps that left Fynta envious. 

When she was done, Ahuska nodded. “It’s a good weapon.” She deactivated the beam and offered it back to Fynta. “The problem lies in the operator.”

“You won’t get any argument from me.” Fynta hooked the hilt on her built, hating its unfamiliar weight immediately. “They aren’t really my style.”

“Clearly.” An awkward silence settled between them, then Ahuska growled. “If I teach you how to use that, will you go away?”

Fynta’s brows lifted before she could shield her reaction. “You’d teach me to wield a lightsaber?” Ahuska’s ears flattened and she looked away, arms folded against her chest. She hated Fynta for knowing what she was, the only sour note in the rhythm that had drawn Fynta to her years back. For her part, Fynta harbored incomprehensible jealousy of the once Jedi who’d been adopted into a clan, while Fynta’s had thrown her to the Sith. 

Heaving a breath that made her wince, Fynta nodded. “Deal. Teach me how to use that damn light sword, and I’ll stay out of your stables.” 

��Fine.” Ahuska unfolded her arms, looked like she might offer to shake on the agreement, then changed her mind. Her gaze slid to the side that Fynta still cradled, then rolled with exasperation. “Come on, I’ve got a first aid kit over here. Meh gar kyrayc, shuk bah ni.”

[calehenituseappreciation]

i hc wilbur made tommy president because he planned to go and press the button while tommy spoke and kill him along with himself

wilbur wanted end all his unfinished symphonies and as the person who raised tommy- he raised him like he raised l'manberg. he doesnt care for fundy- not since he denounced him- so he wanted to end him :)

i need a fic where tommy is the one who goes to stop wilbur and wilbur fucking stabs him before pressing the button saying "it was never meant to be" tommy loses both first and last lives to that phrase

tommys last words are it was always meant to be fucking wilbur survives the explosion and has no one to kill him and now he has to live with the consqunces tommy becomes toast- short for ghost tommy i refuse to write so many letters each time- and immeditly looks for his older brothers and he finds wilbur first :) wilbur is exiled for his crimes and also out of fear- they tried to rehabilate him! they really did but then he freaked out over seeing toast... in a bad way.... and he and toast burned georges house on toast suggest (maybe we should burn something! that always helps me calm down!) this is after wilbur is trusted enough to be not... in a prison... after phil convinced them he needs help and toast tries his best ok- (WHO LEFT WILBUR WITH TOAST!) (I THOUGHT IT WAS A GOOD IDEA AT THE TIME! I WAS ONLY LEAVING FOR FIVE MINUTES! AND RANBOO WAS THERE TOO!) and toast tries to go with but everyone is like "yeah no" and toast is like "whhhhyyy i just wanna stay with wilby!" and everytime anyone tries to tell tommy about the wrongs that have happened to him he screams and clutches his head in pain and everytime he comes back he doesnt remember the convo toast,,, is the most BABY toast calls everyone cutesy nicknames unironcially he calls eret rere toast, chriping happily: TECHIE!!!! tubbo: TOMMY STAY AWAY FROM HIM! toast, in a very lost and confused voice: why? techno, freaking out: tommy? toast: hi!!!!!!! im toast!!!!!! :D techno: lowkey ab to cry toast: NOOOOOOOO DUN CRI! toast: there there techie... i know what will help! tubbo, sighing: arson? toast: ARSON! phil comes just in time to find tommys dead body and l'manberg gone hes not around for the withers neither hes there just to see the crater and wilbur in chains with blood on his hands trying to off himself phil will forever blame himself for not making it in time :> dream: taking wilbur away in boat toast, floating behind the boat: o^o dream do you have any games on your phone .///^///. looks at exileinnit hmmm spins roulette wheel who should i hurt... i picked d all of the above they dont let toast go with him but because he is baby and you can't tell him what to do tubbo: sighs finally now that the exiles done toast can you- tubbo: looks up tubbo: GOADDAMN IT

toast is promptly kidnapped back to l'manberg the next day toast keeps going back tho and no one understands why- he literally killed him! why does he keep wanting to go back! (toasts unfinished buisness keeping him tied was helping wilbur and l'manberg- he loved wilbur even at his worst)

toast vibes around everyone but he stays with wilbur- where ever wilbur goes is where he builds his home

its shitty but its an 'ome Toast, teary eyed: Dad? Why does everyone hate Wilby? Why can't I be with him... Phil, with no idea what to do: niki bakes cakes with niki whenever hes in l'manberg he keeps accidently setting her bakery on fire but hes sMOL AND GIGGLES A LOT AND HE HAS FLOUR ON HE GODDAMN SELF toast is a part of mexican l'manberg i dont make the rules mexican dream: AYYYYYYYYY HOMIE toast, giggling: 'OMIE!!!!!

Toast is wholesome while everyone is literally willing to murder Wilbur while also trying to stop him from khs toast is just a very happy lovely child and cries whenever anyone is mean to 'his big brother wilby!' and so they all constantly glare daggers over toasts shoulder wherenever he cant see em meanwhile Phil is just dying inside because Tommy is a ghost by Wilbur's hands and Wilbur keeps trying to commit suicide and oh god what is he supposed to do- he simply avoids this struggle by avoiding them toast, waddling up to philza: papa do you have any games on your phone? all im saying is that tommy called phil papa before changing to dad or fathercraft phil,in the tired parent voice: tommy please sit down- just for five minutes- at least for 5 minutes toast: sits down and then proceeds to struggle to continue to sit but he must because dad told him to toast is just ADHD incarnate wilbur, trying to end himself: im gonna escape my consequences toast: HI!!!!! :D wilbur: FUCK ITS MY CONSEQUENCES toast,,,, is so baby Wilbur is just not allowed to have anything remotely sharp i like how theres so much angst and im just hyper focusing on ba yby dream uses toast the same way he uses ghostbur! :D toast doesnt realize of course even after wilbur tells him dream is bad but he keeps forgetting!!! Everyone: da baby Dream: how can I profit from this oh dream is manipulating wilbur btw wilbur: suffering toast: i made you a card toast trusts eret wholeheartedly and this hurts eret because she knows if toast remembered he probably wouldnt- they wanted redemption but not like this- not because of death Toast: you look cool Toast: you are friend now Eret: sobs I don't deserve this Toast: what did I do wrong Toast: how can I help friend!!!!! Eret: sobbing more toast looks at everyone says "ah! friend shaped!" if ur wondering wheres the angst toast is the angst- toast is just tommy without any bad memories and hes so different they thought he was happy before they thought he was fine tommy was hurt too but since he internalized it no one cared toast sees wilbur being sad and goes! i know what will help! n-not arson tho people dont like arson when you do it.... BUT ITS OKAY! I BROUGHT A FRIEND! shows friend, the sheep and wilbur just fucking sobs Toast is wholesome chaotic in a perfect mix- toast is tommy but without the 'asshole on purpose as a self defense mechanism" someone mentioned something about Tommy masking insecurities once Toast doesn't remember. and he's fine with that he doesn't have any insecurities toast hurts because in retrospect toast, meeting bad: WOAAAAAAH! YOU LOOK SO FUCKING COOL! bad: LANGUAGE! toast, cringing back, looking at the ground: ..sorry :( bad: ...you can swear toast: :D bad: once toast hasnt sworn since "hes saving it for special occasions" sometimes he accidently swears and immedtly gasps and looks at bad and bad just sighs and is like "its okay it was an accident" bad never would have thought itd take letting tommy swear for him to stop huh... its almost like... hes a child.... and the negetive reienforcement.... was doing more harm then good.... toast: exists in an amount of happiness no one has ever seen him in before everyone: pain how much pain was tommy in before? they thought tommy was happy- was... was he not happy? he's so unabashedly joyful and energetic looking back they can see how forced every laugh felt, every smile- He's not afraid to just talk to people, make new friends he became so much more cautious after Eret, had it really effected him that badly? He's open. He never lies about how he's feeling, never brushes anything away how much was Tommy hiding, how much pain, how much fear- It's chilling. bone chilling. There's no way to fix what's been lost. No way to apologize to who Tommy used to be, to try and make it better. None of them every bothered to see him as anything more than a nuisance, an annoying child or cannon fodder and they'll regret it for the rest of their lives everyone: having a mental crisis toast: GUYYYYSS!! I MADE ANOTHER FRIEND!!!

"Wilby?" Wilbur heard Tommys voice say in an innocent tone.

Was he hearing things? Tommy's dead. He killed him himself.

"Wilby why are you in prison?" The image of his little brother asked, "Did you commit arson without me?" it asked in a pout.

"TOMMY!" Tubbo yelled running into the cell where Wilbur was kept, going through the bars with ease, "Tommy get away from him!"

"But 'ubbo!!!! Wilby is 'ere!!!!" Tommy (?) said with a smile Wilbur hadn't seen since Tommy was a child.

"Tommy, I understand you don't remember anything right now but you need to come back over here!" Tubbo demanded and Tommy flinched

Wilbur was struck with the sudden realization that this isn't just his mind- no no it can't be- but Tubbo acknowledged him he has to- Wilbur reached his locked hands towards Tommy only for him to pass through him. What? No no it was just his imagination that makes sense.

"Oh sorry Wil! I'm kinda dead! I don't remember how i died... but i think im a ghostie!" Tommy said plainly, floating off the floor. Wilbur looked at him in confusion. Whats happening?

the first time toast sees the crater toast srceams in intense amount of pain- its so loud you can hear it all over the smp- and just dissapears for a few days before reappearing with no memories of what happened toast saying things tommy thought but never said- he calls eret "big brother" and eret fucking d i e s toast cals all the l'manbergians older siblings He's far too honest for anyone to handle tommy was always honest too but he learned from experince that honesty only lead to hurt Tommy was like an enderchest, you could never see beyond the exterior, everything inside was exclusive to him and him alone Toast is like when someone dies and all their fuckin items explode onto the ground. you just see everything and most of it was  pain and everyone feels bad because they thought he was the only one uneffected that nothing had ever put a damper on his happiness and energetic smile- at what point had that smile became fake? also for angst reasons the last memory toast has is before the elections toast has uwu boy vibes but more chaotic toast goes to dream smp from logstedshire purely for sam nook toast starts making his hotel since he sees nobody has a home (including dream LMAO) (and he wants to make a safe place since everyone keeps saying something about war) and wants to make one and asks sam for help since apparently hes good at building and sam lets him pay after he finishs the hotel and sam nook is there since day one because i dont think i could handle a world without sam nook toast: biting everyone tubbo: wHY DO YOU DO THAT?????? toast: once techie bit all the cupcakes and then said it was his cuz he bit it so im biting everyone to show their mine!!!!! tubbo: i- tubbo: i am both flattered and disgusted everyone, remembering how tommy used to bite everyone upon meeting and then everyone would get mad at him and yell at him until he stopped biting people on meeting: sadly whips and nae naes hes a BABY toast deserves the fucking world also i havent talked ab it but there is wilbur and fundy angst here fundy confronts wilbur also not that fundy is angry about not not not getting murdered by his father but also why does he consider tommy his unfinished sympohny and not him? he raised fundy too- maybe he just only ever loved tommy (based off his insecurity of how close wilbur and tommy are based off wilbur raising tommy and wilbur only being there for fundy by the time he was older and also using hybrid age go nyoom for this dream manipulates toast during wilburs exile along with wilbur and toast realizes both of them were being used by him and fucking screams lourder than he ever has before and dissapears for a week and then shows up at technos house (he got lost and he didnt know why he was at logsted shire- he doesnt remember the place) on the day of the excution and tries to help technoblade but keeps forgetting that everyone is trying to kill techno the butcher army is hesitant when "hey why are you all attacking big brother Techy-" "HE SPAWNED WITHERS IN L'MANBERG!" "he did?" toast asked tilting his head in confusion "YES! HE DID! AFTER YOU DIED! NOW WHERE IS HE TOAST! WE NEED TO CAPTURE HIM!" whenever tubbo talks ab how theyre planning on excuting techno or how there was no trial toast has flashbacks to tubbos excution but hes never able to hold on to the memories just leaving him feeling bad toast sees anything traumatic and just makes the blue screen noise toast has to reboot every time anything truamatic happens and when he does he doesnt remember what happens after

toast hurts on a "THE FUCKING IMPLICATIONS OF THIS" level just.. everyone trying to make up for not noticing tommys hurt and trying to be good to toast when its already too late... far too late glatt is also here because whenever ytoast dissapears after something trauamtic he bounces back to the land of the dead for the bit and sometimes he drags glatt out to the land of the living with him only works bc toast has unfinished buisness so he can freely go between and just stays in the land of the lving until he can finish his unfiinshed buisness ghostbur and toast wouldve been good friends if they ever met anyone yells at toast and he immeditly starts sobbing

basically when everything is calm and peaceful and everyone is happy together after dream is in prison and toast is like "oh... this is what ive always wanted"

"toast?" tubbo asked, confused toast smiled softly, "i think its time for me to go" "what?" wilbur asked his pitch unusually high due to the fear lacing his voice "i think... i think this was my unfinished buisness... this is the last thing i wanted when i was alive, the reason i stayed... i think its finally my time to go now" toast said smiling tearfully "no! you vcan't go! we just got you back!"

basically when everything is finally ok, when things finally calm down toast fades back to the void/afterlife thing

[rein-ette]

A cleaner version of my previous ask 😅

Engport, babysitting (catsitting, plantsitting etc) or fire, please?

Oooookayyyy, so. I wrote...something. It's for the engport + fire prompt, but if I'm going to be completely honest it doesn't have anything that much to do with fire, though I swear I did come up with it because I was thinking about things related to fire. And this first part of it doesn't have much engport either, though there's certainly a lot of Port. It does have a cute small animal in it, if that's any consolation.

I do also have another idea for plantsitting, so I might write that at some point, but I didn't want to keep you waiting much longer so -- please accept my apologies and this fic that I can almost guarantee is not what you thought it was going to be.

Warnings: abuse of Greek mythology and one scene from Spirited Away. Also skulls. One skull. And I guess, death? But not really.

The realm of the dead was turning out to be a lot less crowded than Gabriel had expected. Since many mortals died every day, he had imagined that the banks of the river Styx would be crowded with souls, screaming or writhing or whatever spirits did in agony as they waited for their passage to the Underworld. Instead, Gabriel stood alone on what appeared to be a train platform, in the middle of a river so still he could easily see his own reflection in it, and so wide it might as well have been an ocean. Gabriel only knew it was a river because he could sense that the water was drawn to him like a curious child to pretty flower, responding to his immortal parentage. Unconsciously, Gabriel flexed his fingers and wondered if the steaming waters of the Styx would listen to him if he tried to command it. Probably not, and seeing as he was going to be knocking on the door of her master momentarily, Gabriel did not want to be introduced as that nephew who had angered the Goddess of Hatred the moment he had woken up in the Underworld.

Fat lot of good his powers had done him anyways, since he had died at sea.

Hadn't mother always told him the Oceanids were bad shit?

Sighing, Gabriel looked around again at his surroundings. He realized with no small amount of surprise that, while he had just been alone, now several shadowy figures stood with him on the platform, the edges of their figures melting in and out in the thick fog that rose from the waters around them. He tried to examine their faces to see if any of them were the spirits of his crewmates, but whenever he thought he could make out a feature their faces dissolved back into the fog. Exasperated, Gabriel glanced back at the river, noting with another jolt of surprise that now he could see the dark outline of a set of train tracks beside the platform, about half a meter underwater and stretching away into the blackness. Not long after he registered that, he heard the rumble of a train in the distance.

I suppose that's my ride, he thought to himself. The old myths said that Chiron ferried people on a boat across the Styx, but apparently the Industrial Revolution had come to the Underworld as well. Snorting at the thought, he dug in his pocket for his gold coin, which any good sailor always kept in case the ever-capricious ocean claimed them — even semi-immortal sons of river goddesses. Clearly, this was a good habit, because being semi-immortal had not saved Gabriel from that torpedo, which had reduced his poor ship to a lump of floating scrap metal before Gabriel could call up enough power to fill a water bottle, and, oh, all those poor soldier boys who would now never get a chance to die in a gruesome war and fulfill their heroic fates —

Gabriel could not find his coin. Frowning, he searched the front pockets of his admiral's tunic as well, even though he knew he had not kept it there. When that yielded nothing, he moved on to his back pant pockets, then his boots. For the first time since he had drowned in the icy cold Atlantic (which, admittedly, was not that long ago), Gabriel felt a shiver of true panic run through him. How would he board the train without his coin? How would he enter the Underworld? How would he join the ranks of the heroes in the Elysian Fields, where he belonged? Had he perhaps lost his coin when he had rushed to the railings to survey the damage on deck and was promptly dropped into the roaring Atlantic when a stray bit of flak from the exploding engine room tore clean through his right leg?

Now that he thought about it, that seemed likely.

At least he’d gotten his leg back.

The train slid to a rippling stop into front of him. With a soft swoosh, the doors opened, and Gabriel found himself staring at a man who, despite his smart train conductors uniform, could not have been anyone but Chiron, given that his face was a gleaming skull and his eyes literally balls of hellfire. It seemed the god had tried to update his aesthetic for the 20th century as well.

Chiron proffered to him a small wooden box, in which Gabriel could see several gold coins. Desperately digging through his pockets one last time, he finally shook his head. "I’m sorry, I don’t have the fare, I —"

The doors slid closed in his face, and immediately the train began to pull away.

Muttering a few choice curses, Gabriel stumbled a step away from the edge of the platform and watched as the train picked up speed and swooped away into the darkness.

Somehow, he doubted it would be returning to this station.

In the ensueing silence, Gabriel weighed his options. He could sit on this platform and mope, possibly for eternity. He could jump in the river and hope that his aunt either saved him or tore his soul into shreds from the agony. He could try walking along the rails in the direction the train had left, also possibly for the rest of eternity, in the hopes of reaching the entrance to the Underworld eventually.

Gabriel took off his shoes and chose the last option, despite feeling that sulking for the rest of eternity held a certain amount of appeal. He was very good at sulking. Nevertheless, he waded into the water at the end of the platform and found immediately that Hatred was lukewarm, not freezing cold like he had imagined — a nasty, suffocating lukewarm which swirled thickly around his thighs with the collected resentment, broken promises, lurid thoughts and heavens knew what else of millions of miserable souls.

He had feared the water might send him immediately into convulsions of unbearable pain or suck his consciousness right out of him, but as he continued along the track nothing remarkable occured. Perhaps the Styx had sensed his godly parentage and was protecting its kin. Or perhaps Gabriel had collected so much resentment in his long life that the river didn't even recognize him as a foreign body. Whatever the case, Gabriel held his shoes gingerly in one hand and sloshed on.

Quickly, he lost all sense of time, distance, or direction. It felt like he had barely taken two steps before the platform he left was swallowed by the fog, and the tracks underneath his feet curved and meandered like a small stream itself, without rhyme or reason. Gabriel realized that even if the water had not immediately destroyed him, he could not walk forever, and when he finally collapsed from exhaustion he would either be eaten by whatever dwelled in this wretched river or drown over and over in its depths until it dissolved him like a piece of wet toilet paper.

Still, he could not turn back. There was no hope even if he managed to return to the platform, and while a lesser man might have cowered in fear on dry land anyways, Gabriel had spent most of his twenty one centuries of life fighting and wandering across the oceans anyways. Wading through an infernal river until even his immortal soul crumbled into the waves — it seemed somehow like a fitting end.

To distract himself from his happy thoughts, he began to sing. At times it was just a wordless tune, but when he felt inspiration hit he added lyrics. He sang of his birth on the sun-kissed banks of the Douro, the eldest son of its beautiful immortal gaurdian and a local Roman nobleman. He sang of his siblings, not all of whom had inherited his mother's immortality, and he sang in particular of the one brother who did and accompanied him through the aching, bittersweet years that followed. He sang of the lands he had travelled, some bursting with life and colour, others stunning in their harsh, barren beauty. He sang of his lovers, the princes and the ladies, the soldiers and the nymphs and the humble farmhands whom he had courted, bed, and occasionally wed — but never to last, for mortal lives were but a flicker in the endless night and even the immortal ones could not tether down his heart for long. The stars called him, the waves called him, and Gabriel always, always answered.

He suppposed now, though, he had finally found his last resting place.

This thought was immediately followed by a less melancholic one: I didn't know polecats could swim.

Gabriel stopped singing and instead stood and watched as the little furry animal approached, paws paddling furiously as it slipped through the water. It stopped when it neared him and splashed around for a bit, before lifting its snout and looking pointedly at Gabriel, its dark eyes gleaming and intelligent.

Gabriel hadn't known that polecats could give pointed looks, either.

He cupped his hands and extended them to the animal, which immediately scrambled on and promptly snuggled up in his palms, curling into a little content ball. Unable to hold back a smile, he stroked its slick, midnight fur with a thumb, marvelling at how soft and warm it was and how docile it seemed.

Well, he thought, at least I still sing well enough to seduce a polecat.

"You've seduced more than just a polecat, that's for sure," someone muttered.

-- part 2 is here --

[nctzendreamz]

off the table — lee taeyong

genre: angst w/ hints of fluff.

warnings: language, mentions of drug abuse, and mental illness.

featuring: nct members + chan and felix from stray kids.

authors note: taeyong was perfect for this in my head. also, thank you ariana grande.

is love completely off the table?

will I ever love the same way again? will I ever love somebody like the way I did you?

it had been almost a year. almost a year since he had heard your laugh. you know, the one only he was capable of getting out of you. it was gentle, yet so vibrant that it could color even the most plain and unpleasant rooms. he had seen you do it a million times, but his favorite work of art of yours was the one you did on his heart.

obviously, he couldn’t see what the inside of him looked like. but he could feel it. before he met you, he was certain everything was pitch black. to be specific, the darkest shade of the night sky one could possible fathom. so much pain resided in him. some he brought to himself, some he did nothing to earn. regardless, it was there, and as anybody with demons did, he found coping methods.

that’s how he met you, actually. holed up a strip club he had no business being in. one, because there was no one here he truly wanted. he would never admit it outloud, but the thought of love warmed him. not much, but it did. more than silly one night stands that have soul ties no one wanted to keep.

you were clearly out of place in the building filled with the scent of marijuana and flashing lights, although it did perfectly consume your complexion in the most beautiful way. he observed you for what felt like hours, just admiring you. he had no idea he would want to do this for the rest of his life.

it didn’t take much liquid courage for him to approach you. he could sense your fear when his slender fingers touched your exposed shoulder. for some reason though, the minute your eyes locked it was as if you were looking at someone you had known for a million lifetimes. or maybe that was just Taeyong’s point of view. maybe, everything was all an illusion. meeting you. falling in love with you. you falling in love with him.

“it’s been awhile.” a voice snaps Taeyong out of his deep thinking. the minute his concentration breaks does his surroundings suddenly blast into the center of his cortex. the volume increases. he is in the real world again. he isn’t high, yet.

“yeah.” is all he can spit out. all of the different coversations he could hear take place all of a sudden was making him extremely frustrated and unable to form coherent thoughts. or maybe he wanted it that way so he wouldn’t have to think about you.

you loved coming here. he hated coming here. but he loved you, and your favorite thing to say to him was, “when you love someone, you do things you hate. just like me sitting and watching you smoke for hours without stopping.”

he never realized how much you hated his distractions.

the here, was a restaurant that resembled a sports bar back where you are from. the food was less Korean and more greasy chicken tenders. and you really admired their honey mustard. it was kind of ridiculous how much you loved this place. it was always crowded. the smell was odd - a mixture of people who can’t seem to do anything but drink beer and yell, and foreigners who hated living in Korea. this was the only taste of home they got, so they took advantage of it.

did you feel that way too?

he doesn’t know. and he doesn’t want to think about it. some soccer game was on. people were cheering. he was just waiting on his to-go order.

“how have you been?” the familiar woman asks behind the counter. she was definitely in her mid-50’s. he assumed. she always would be here when Taeyong was dragged along, and she was always nice. who wouldn’t be with all the money you gave to this place.

“i’ve been fine.”

taeyong feels a little cheery conversating with another human. if it wasn’t his dealer, there wasn’t anything to say if he was being quite honest. his relationship with his family died out a long time ago. the only person that he could talk to was himself. the guys who were constantly down in the basement at his dealer were cool, but they never really got him. they thought he was weird, violent. only you cared enough to see how sweet he was. to paint him.

“good to hear. you tell your lover that i miss them!”

his heart, still colored from the mention of you, breaks. it had broken many times from your presence on this earth being acknowledged. everytime his chest would explode into his stomach.

he couldn’t say anything.

he simply walks out the place, not caring about manners. he just wants to go home. he doesn’t even like these fucking chicken tenders, but he’s going to go home and eat them. in your honor.

“excuse me.” a voice exclaims as he finally makes it outside.

once again, words don’t leave his mouth. the woman was probably lost. he truthfully didn’t care. he didn’t care about anything anymore.

“sorry,” she begins. her hair is almost a white color. it’s clearly dyed, but she might have been naturally a darker shade of blonde since the coloring seemed too perfect. “i just...i’ve been watching you - wait, that sounds incredible creepy—“

no one could compare to you, but she reminded him of you. you always did this when you were nervous, or had a severe lack of sleep. you would say things you considered to be silly. fumble with your words. and you would always ruin it more by acknowledging it.

but he was never irritated. he thought it was the cutest thing in the entire world. you were the cutest thing in the entire world.

even now, he’s okay. maybe because he was reminded of you, he can appreciate the art.

“you’re really cute.” she finally spits out.

he couldn’t respond, for the third time today.

why was this so hard? it has almost been a fucking year. a year without you. a year without touching you.

yet, no one could ever compare. not the blonde woman standing in front of him. not the sky. not the stupid bar. even his drugs seemed lackluster to the high you gave him whenever you told him you loved him.

he walks away. he needs something. something to make him unable to think for the rest of the night.

never thought you’d be so damn hard to replace. i swear I don’t mean to be this way, if I can’t have you? is love completely off the table?

“y/n? you there?” you feel vibrations from snapping on your face from the man sitting beside you. he snapped three times, to be exact.

“yeah! yes.” you quickly correct, adjusting your posture along with it.

“i know you appreciate the arts, but that painting is nothing to stare at.”

the painting chan was referring to, seemed plain to a simple eye. it simply, was a black square. but you saw worlds in it. you saw him.

“you know christopher,” you cooed, giving his slim cheek a quick sqeeze before continuing, “just because something seems boring to the naked eye, doesn’t mean it actually is. sometimes, a simple work of art such as that lame black square can hold a thousand meanings.”

he smile is radiant. honestly, the neon colored walls in the movie theater couldn’t compare to it no matter how hard it tried. lately, you had been trying to predict what he would say when you tried to be somewhat of substance around him. you were truthfully scared of boring him.

maybe you saw yourself in the black square as well.

“you really find it interesting, love?”

his accent - God his accent. it had an effect on you that truthfully wasn’t healthy, but even so you always felt guilty when your heart would papilate as it touched your eardrums. but why? you were single. you were moving on.

you can’t even look at him anymore, so you settle on the painting once more. now that you think about it, it was kind of scary that it was in a movie theater. maybe chan was on to something - what was its purpose? to simply cause you pain? to make you think about things and people you could no longer have? a person who is the worst possible thing for your growth, but the best food for your pitiful, lonely soul?

“never mind, you’re right.” you stand promptly, suddenly wanting to get as far away from the evil on the wall. it didn’t matter how chilly it was outside.

“woah.” chan chases after you. you’re too quick though. you’ve practically swam through the crowd to escape into fresh air. what is wrong with you?

it doesn’t take long for you to find yourself at his car. his pride and joy by the way, in which he never let anyone else ride in yet. he had been saving for so long to get it. you didn’t know the model, all you knew was that it made loud noises when he wanted it to. the car was originally white, but the two of you agreed that it was the worse possible color for a car, so he got a paint job and now it was as black as a dark hole.

the stars are beaming, and it’s odd. you used to love nights like this. you preferred the day time, but it was something about a light in the dark, such as the moon that pulled you in. it always destroyed you in the end though.

“what did I do?” his voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

“huh?” you wizzle in confusion, not understanding why he believed he had done anything but gave you a peaceful night not lost in your thoughts.

his eyes tell you everything you need to know before his mouth does. he isn’t questioning your ever changing emotions and happiness to hear satisfaction from your mouth - to boost his ego. he truly feels as if he’s ruined any chance he’s had with you simply from being himself. even so, as he waits for you to answer he’s taking his bomber jacket off for you to wear. he was sweet like that.

“chris, you are always perfect. why would you think anything different?” you say as you put the jacket on.

he’s holding back a smile, but you can tell it’s more so from your proper word choice, and not what you said.

“you trying to sound English?”

“no.” you giggle, pushing his shoulder lightly. “I’m just trying to communicate with you.”

“then tell the truth.” he prompts, taking a step closer to you.

“can I lean on the car?”

“yes.” he laughs in a low tone. “you can lean on the car.”

“okay.”

“okay.”

silence is filling the air, and it’s making you sick even though it shouldn’t be.

“y/n.” he finally speaks. you decide you have the balls to look at him even though it feels so wrong. the stars - they’re sparkling right into his eyes and you know you are the dumbest idiot on earth.

why can’t you just choose him?

the question is repeating over and over in your head, but no answer comes. well, no answer you want to hear comes. this should’ve been easy money. the perfect guy, with a good family and solid morals is madly in love with you. he’s still here, even when you barely give him anything to work with, and you’re thinking about others who were nothing close to that no matter how they made you feel.

“my confession ruined everything, didn’t it?”

it was about two months ago that chan confessed his love for you. you laughed a bit, as it made no sense. the two of you had been in the same circle for awhile, and you had been notified of his appreciation for you long ago, but he had seen you break. he watched you go from happy soul to broken and he still liked you? in what world?

you enjoyed his company. that’s why you began to hang out with him practically everyday - doing whatever you two wanted. most of the time you two just watched movies, or played silly board games. but sometimes you would go shopping, or he would play you his music he worked on. you could tell he lacked confidence on what he could become, but you knew he had the potential to be so great.

his confession was short and sweet. and the way he approached you, you could tell he was somewhat confident that you would feel the same. you did feel the same, but you also still had feelings for others. when you declined his request to take things to the next level, he didn’t get upset. or at the least he didn’t show it.

he promised the two of you would move at your pace. and that was all you needed to hear to know that maybe one day, when you got yourself together, the two of you could be something.

chan always protected you. you never felt endangered, or unsafe when you were with him. to you, he was sweet, to others he was still sweet, but he knew when to be stern.

“no. i promise.” is all you answer. “it’s cold.” here you go again trying to change the subject. this wasn’t like you.

he promptly unlocks the door to his car, opening it for you as well. it isn’t long before he’s on the drivers side turning on the car so you could feel some heat on your body.

“i won’t bring it up anymore.” he sighs.

“no chris. you bring it up everytime you feel it. i like you, okay? i do. i know I’ve never said it out loud before, but I do. i just...i don’t know what I’m doing right now. there are some things I have to get over you know?”

you can tell the amount of words you used - probably the most you had spoken to him in months shocked him, and made him feel extremely guilty. you know he didn’t want you to feel like he was trying to pressure you. all he wanted to have was something. something that made him feel as special as he knew you had made others feel in the past.

“y/n I’m a fucking idiot. God, don’t listen to me. you are perfect okay? we are working at your pace and we always will. i - fuck.” his face goes directly in his hands.

it’s cute - the way he cares about his every move around you so deeply. you remember what it felt like to feel like that. it was the most nerve wracking, yet butterfly giving thing to experience when around someone you admired so much.

“chris...” you whisper, removing his face from his palms. he had the softest hands ever. “hey, don’t beat yourself up okay? i know what you want and I know you have nothing but the purest intentions. if I didn’t feel that way I wouldn’t want to spend everyday with you okay? whatever you think this is, it is. i promise.”

“okay.” he sighs the biggest breath of relief you had heard in a long time. “okay. i know what we need.” he offers. your hand lingered on his, and he decided it would be best to hold yours as the opportunity presented itself. it’s nice - the warmness. yet, it feels incredibly wrong.

you truly didn’t mean to be this way. you would do anything to not be this way.

“let’s go cop something from felix. hm?”

what chan was reffering to was the good ole’ mean green, weed. you smoked a lot more in the past than you did now, but you were still no angel. especially tonight did getting high sound like the best decision you could have made.

“yes please.” you say without hesitation, leaning back in the seat. your left hand is still in chan’s right, and you don’t plan on letting go. felix’s house isn’t that far from here, so you know your pleasure will be coming sooner or later. chan starts the car and begins the journey. usually, the two of you drive with music on, but tonight the silence was what the both of you wanted.

secretly though, chan snuck his AirPod into his left ear. he loved music, but he could tell you weren’t in the mood. and he didn’t mind that. he would do anything for you. the lyrics resonated with his with his soul so much that he felt it ache, even though he felt he had no right.

i’ll wait for you

even if I always feel like I’ll be number two

to someone you can’t hold anymore

taeyong can’t even recall how long he had been pent up here, high as hell. intoxicated as fuck. the chicken tender meal he brought had been long gone, but not from his mouth. the junkies smelt food, and took food like the animals they claimed to be.

this all sucked so bad. he hated being here. but he couldn’t move.

it was so loud in here. the boys he knew - johnny, mark, and jaehyun were all present. they seemed to be the leaders of the basement and they also seemed to be functioning quite well considering how high they also were. taeyong couldn’t fathom or make out what their conversation were, but he assumed it was about girls. he caught, “they’re supposed to be here any minute now.” from jaehyun’s lip. he seemed to be the strongest ladies man. all taeyong knew, was that he wanted no parts of the drug induced orgy he knew was going to take place. he also knew if he didn’t leave, they didn’t care. they were going to give a show regardless.

“taeyong!” johnny yells, bringing him back to focus. johnny was always very intimidating. he wore a smile when he got what he wanted, but if he spoke to you and you didn’t listen, he quickly got upset. maybe he was different when he was sober, but that was never.

“what’s up.” taeyong answers dryly, still not looking at him.

“you know,” johnny sits down in the dirty floor right beside him. “you’ve never been fun, but you were more fun before than you are now.”

“i went through this phase.” mark interrupts, taking the seat on taeyong’s opposite side. “what is it? mommy issues? a girl? or a boy? if you get spicy like that.” he chuckles. he coughs right after.

“how about everything. except the last part.” taeyong whispers.

“oh...you have it rough. was your mom a druggie too?”

“no - well, I don’t know. i met her like once when I was younger. she told me ‘i did it for your good’ and left.”

“so you were in a foster home? or did you get adopted?”

“foster home. neglected, so now I’m like this.” he chuckles. he’s laughing, but in reality to admit these things out loud hurt, even though he was sure the other boys had similar or worse stories.

“and the girl?” mark asks. he had began to roll up another blunt in the midst of taeyong’s life story. maybe it was too much for him. or maybe he was just an addict.

“i cheated. and i was mean. she was the best thing ever though. she got me clean.”

“for what? a day?” johnny laughs outloud.

“well, not clean clean.” he explains. “but off the hard stuck like coke, and lsd and shit. we both smoked weed. and I smoked cigs.”

“ew!” the two of them exclaim. “cigs?”

“so you’re telling me that the two of you do every drug under the sun, but cigarettes are where you draw the line?”

“duh!”

“have you seen all the commercials? with the person with the hole in their throat sounding like the old shriveled lady from spongebob going ‘chocolate!’ we don’t want that!”

“cigarettes aren’t the only thing that can cause that, you know?”

“whatever.” johnny shivers as if he had just gotten the worse news ever. “so this girl wasn’t a druggie? why did she even like you?”

“i don’t know. still to this day I don’t know. but she did. and she tried everything to make me happy. it just felt too good to be true, so I ruined it.”

“damn bro.” mark sighs, taking a deep puff of his blunt. “i thought people only did stupid shit like that in the movies or tv shows.”

“hey hey now, markie.” a voice speaks out of the corner. “be nice to our new friend.”

it’s jaehyun. funny enough, jaehyun tried to get at you once long before you met taeyong, but you had no interest in him once you found out his issues. then again, while he was attracted to you, he didn’t want you to love him. he just wanted to corrupt you.

“our boy is broken hearted. seems to me like he just needs some fun.”

“relax, jae.” johnny explains. “he’s not there yet. let him fall for us on his time.”

“what are you on right now?” jaehyun inspects.

“just a couple of blunts.”

“so just a starter?”

“hyung...” mark sighs.

“okay okay. fine. but when the heartbreak starts to kick in more, i got something that’ll change your life. you just let me know.”

“he will.” johnny and mark say once again in unison.

“boys!” a voice yells. it makes everyone stand up minus taeyong, as he had no idea who it was. he can hear feet coming down the steps. there’s a boy with blonde hair. the same boy who let him in. he was a new face, but clearly an important one from the way even jaehyun was waiting for his comment.

“hi felix!” everyone begins to repeat after eachother.

his voice is deep as he speaks, and his accent is thick. his face itself may have not been scary, but the way he carried himself was.

“clean up this fucking mess. i know you can’t do anything about the shitty couches, but make an attempt. i got some good people coming over and I need quiet. when I bring them down here to show them the product, i need everyone on their best behavior.”

“what exactly does that mean?” taeyong speaks. maybe he shouldn’t have, because everyone is looking at him as if he just called the president a bitch to his face or something.

“you’re new here.” felix explains as he finishes his strut down the stairs. he can be seen more clearly now, and his outfit reminds taeyong of someone you knew. he couldn’t remember his name, but it was chan or something. “well, new to me.”

“and?”

“and...” felix crouches to his level. “im the boss. and all of you do what I say. my brother ran this like a crackhouse. i want us to make some real money, therefore you all will be getting cleaned up. there will be people coming in and out, looking at what we have, so try not to act like the druggie you are. thanks.”

“yes sir.” taeyong says, although he has no intentions of respecting this felix cat.

the doorbell rings promptly. the house wasn’t so big that they wouldn’t be able to hear. clearly this felix had plans to change that, but for now he had to settle.

“that’ll be them. look like friends so they won’t be scared. they’re not like us. or, what you will be.”

with that he leaves. everyone is silent as they want to know who exactly is this person. they all expected some rich man with a million connections to be at the door. they hear one voice - an accent is present. he’s laughing, and they hear the sound of them dapping up.

“friend.” the voice says. they must have not seen each other in a long while. “what’s up? how have you been?”

“oh, I’ve never been better.” felix says. “and y/n.”

the sound of your name makes taeyong’s heart stop in his chest. what the? how could you of all people be here? you hated drugs. this was clearly a trap house. this is where taeyong would go to get everything you wanted, but you always refused to go with him. what male had you here?

jaehyun is smiling as he recognizes your name too. taeyong can’t notice though as he is genuinely about to have a panic attack.

“come downstairs will you? since chan told me it was a special occasion, I decided I’d let you two take a look.”

“felix...are you running a trap house?” you joke, not realizing how true your words were.

“not at all, sweets.” he relaxes you. “i just have good shit from my brother that needs to be sold. this is our little secret though.”

“we know.” chan answers for you. “snitches get stitches.”

“and end up in ditches.” felix finishes. “there are people down here, but they’re just chilling. don’t be scared.”

the three of you make your way down to the basement. jaehyun is the first face you recognize. you feel sick, but he didn’t phase you that much.

the black haired boy though, sandwiched between two other guys, makes your trip and fall on the disgusting floor.

it’s him. it’s really him.

why? all you wanted to do was have fun. all you wanted to do was forget him.

you can see in his eyes does he want to explode. but this was his fault. this was all his fault.

to be continued...

[riversofmars]

Hi all! I love hearing all of your theories and thoughts, thank you so much! I'm having a brilliant time writing and am so excited, as things are about to start happening! :D Enjoy! <3

Chapter 4: The Board Is Set

London, Late 19th Century

Back in the TARDIS, as they set off, Yaz felt a little more in her element. She joined the Doctor at the console while Vastra and Jenny equipped themselves with Samurai swords and Strax checked through his grenade packs. The Doctor was quiet and deep in thought.

“So… you’re married.“ Yaz said after a while of watching her fiddle with the controls without doing much. The course was set and the TARDIS knew the way.

“Hm.“ The Doctor wasn’t quite paying attention to her.

“It’s just that… you never mentioned and you’re not wearing a wedding ring.“ Yaz observed, her voice soft. She sensed it was difficult for her friend to talk about but she wanted to understand. Why had she never mentioned River before?

The Doctor didn’t answer and Yaz felt her heart sink. Maybe she was not quite ready to confide in her yet. Defeated, she was just about to turn and head back to the others, but the Doctor finally spoke up:

“I lost it…“

“Oh…“ Yaz didn’t know what to say, that wasn’t the response she had expected.

“When I regenerated, it was too big and it just slipped off… and then, the TARDIS turned on its side and exploded and I fell… and…“ The Doctor broke off. “I didn’t even look for it…“ She admitted meeting Yaz’s eyes at last. “It was easier… not the have the constant reminder… when I knew we wouldn’t see each other again.“

“Why wouldn’t you?“ Yaz asked with a frown. From what she had gathered about their relationship so far, there was no way of knowing when and if they would see each other again.

“Our time is up.“ The Doctor gave a sad smile. She tried her best to be patient, to explain, but she didn’t expect Yaz to understand.

“You can’t know that. Even you can’t know what your future holds.“ Yaz crossed her arms in front of her chest, standing her ground, but the Doctor just gave a bitter laugh and a shake of her head, returning her attention to the console. “Doctor you have a child!“ Yaz exclaimed, she couldn’t keep it to herself any longer. She was growing more frustrated by the minute. She understood the pain and heartbreak the Doctor surely felt for the loss of her wife. She sympathised with the confusion and fear about these new revelations. Nevertheless, surely, amongst it all, her friend must have realised that she had gained something incredible as well. She had a child! Maybe not here and yes, terrible scary things were happening, but she had a child. Something incredibly precious her late wife had left behind and surely that was cause for joy, even during the darkest moments.

“Yaz, stop it, stop. You don’t know what you’re talking about.“ The Doctor interrupted her firmly. “You don’t know what my relationship with River has been like. What we’ve been through. And the pain for knowing how we would end up. I’m not going to walk out of this with a family!“ The Doctor’s voice cracked ever so slightly. “If we somehow, miraculously manage to find this child…“

“Your child, your son.“ Yaz interjected firmly.

“Even if we find him and if he’s okay, it doesn’t bring her back. River will still be gone. Our son will never see his mother again. We will never be a family.“ There was a bitter sadness to her voice.

“Does he have a name? Did the Professor say what he was called?“ Yaz looked to Vastra who pretended like they hadn’t been listening in.

“No. She said that was a decision she wanted to make with the Doctor.“ Vastra answered promptly.

“Perhaps that’s something you can decided when you talk to your wife again and tell her he’s safe. You can decide that as a family.“ Yaz turned back to the Doctor who chose not to answer, she returned her attention to the console.

Yaz squared her jaw, frustrated. While she didn’t have the sprawling knowledge of the Doctor’s past the others seemed to have, she felt like she had heard enough to understand what was going on. She tried to be sympathetic towards the Doctor’s struggle but she couldn’t grasp why she was shutting herself off so completely. There had to be more to it. The Doctor was not the same since prison, since whatever happened on Gallifrey. All the Doctor had told her was that the Master had died and the planet was a wasteland. She refused to speak of anything beyond that, no matter how much she pushed.

Yaz was about to protest, demand a reaction, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked around to Vastra who gave her an understanding smile, as well as a firm indication to leave it for the time being.  

“Where are we going?“ The lizard woman turned to the Doctor, changing the subject.

“Old acquaintance, you’ll remember him well.“ The Doctor answered in an off-hand sort of way as she straightened herself up and checked the contents of her pockets like a soldier readying their weapons. The comparison hadn’t occurred to Yaz before now but it suddenly felt most appropriate. “The TARDIS has a fix on him, though he’s not where I expected he would be…“

“How about filling those in that haven’t been travelling with you since the dawn of time?“ Yaz pipped up, frustrated for feeling out of the loop again. “Where are we going?“

“There is no business like information and there is someone that has done very well for himself out of it.“ The Doctor worked the controls and the TARDIS wheezed as it landed.

“Armed and ready, Sir!“ Strax announced removing the safety of his blaster rifle. He looked ecstatic for being back in Sontaran armour and Yaz had to admit he looked a more normal sight now than he had in his butler’s uniform.

“Perhaps going in all guns blazing might not be required?“ Jenny suggested pushing Strax’s gun down. She did, however, keep her hand firmly on the hilt of her sword. There was no way of knowing what they would encounter once they left the relative safety of the TARDIS.

“It is exactly what’s required, carry on Strax, I’m not here to mess around.“ The Doctor interrupted as she headed for the door.

“We might make a Sontaran soldier of you yet, Sir!“ Strax grinned with excitement.

“Doctor…“ Vastra, always the voice of reason, tried to intervene but the Doctor cut her off:

“I don’t want to hear it.“ She opened the door and stepped outside.

“She’s not right…“ Yaz whispered to Vastra as they followed.

“No she’s not. But that’s what we’re here for.“ The Silurian replied and they stepped out of the TARDIS as well.

“Wow…“ Yaz was at a loss for words at first. She felt like they had just walked into the iconic Mos Eisly Cantina from Star Wars. The lighting was dim, there was music playing and aliens upon aliens of all shapes and sizes occupied tables and bar stools. The chatter of dozens of foreign languages added to the other-worldliness of the place. It took a moment for the TARDIS’s translation matrix to set in with as many languages as this. “That’s a lot of aliens in one place.“ Was the best observation Yaz could manage.

“That’s probably what they thought of us as we piled out of the TARDIS.“ Vastra commented in amusement as they closed the door behind them.

“This way.“ The Doctor didn’t give them time to linger and look around, she pushed ahead through the crowd. Yaz could feel everyone’s eyes on them, their obvious display of weapons probably didn’t help. Judging by the variety of dangerous creatures around them, however, she was glad they would be able to defend themselves if it came to it.

“What is this place?“ Yaz asked, falling into step with Jenny. She didn’t want to keep bothering Madame Vastra with her questions, her scaly expression had turned very serious indeed; her human wife seemed more approachable.

“This is the Maldovarium.“ Jenny answered with a pleasant smile. “A popular trading hub, black market basically. Everything you could possibly need you can find here.“ She explained as she looked around the bar.

“Like information?“ Yaz concluded.

“Dorium Maldovar’s speciality.“ Vastra added turning her head towards the two humans as they came to a halt. “He is an acquaintance of the Doctor’s and their wife…“

“Welcome!“ As if on cue, a boastful voice greeted them. It belonged to a very large man of distinctive blue skin. He was dressed in exquisite robes of silky materials and spread his arms out in greeting. Even amongst the other colourful aliens, he stood out.

“But I do remember him to be a little less of a man, last we saw him…“ Vastra carried on under her breath as they stepped closer.

“Did he grow a new body?“ Jenny whispered back.

“It would take years to cultivate a body that size.“ Strax added in his usual loud voice.

“Don’t be rude, Strax.“ Vastra chastised him and the Sontaran rolled his eyes. Yaz couldn’t quite follow their line of conversation but she hoped it would make sense to her later.

“We need to talk, Dorium.“ The Doctor walked right up to the blue man who looked at her surprised.

“And who, pray tell, are…“ He didn’t seem to recognise her at first, not until the Doctor’s companions stepped into the light as well. “Madame Vastra. Miss Flint. Commander Strax…“ Dorium seemed to be going a paler shade of blue all of a sudden.

“We might want to handle this in private.“ Vastra advised, scanning the room for possible eavesdroppers, but the Doctor was too impatient:

“Have you spoken to my wife recently?“ She asked, stepping into his personal space.

“Doctor, is it really…“ He looked her up and down and it was difficult to tell whether he was actually taken aback by her change of body or if he was playing for time.

“Don’t give me that, as if you haven’t got pictures of all my faces by now, very little passes through this universe without you knowing. Have you spoken to River?“ The Doctor bit back sharply. She didn't have time for games.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.“ Dorium feigned innocence but there was a measure of nervousness to his voice.

“Don’t make me come back there.“ The Doctor lowered her voice threateningly.

“Doctor, I speak to so many people every day. Professor Song, being a long standing customer and dare I say, friend, of course I talk…“ Dorium started rambling but the Doctor interrupted him.

“What exactly did you tell her.“ She pressed on.

“I haven’t seen the Professor in a very long time, as I understand it, condolences are in order, Doctor…“ Dorium started again but the Doctor grabbed him by the collar, pulling him close. Around them, several patrons started to take notice and Yaz watched, getting slightly unnerved, as Vastra and Jenny pulled their swords out halfway, in warning.

“Do not mess with me, Dorium, I am having a very bad day.“ The Doctor growled. “Strax, see that pillar behind the bar?“ She carried on without looking around.

“Yes?“ Strax said slowly, surprised to be called upon. He spotted the pillar in question.

“It’s a generator.“ The Doctor revealed something she had noticed straight away upon entering the bar. “Use it for target practice.“

“No!“ Dorium exclaimed but Strax was quicker.

“Yes!“ He grinned in excitement and fired at the structure. All the lights went out and Dorium vanished in a flash. There was shouts of confusion at the sudden darkness and several weapons discharged as their owners feared attack. Chaos ensured until finally the back up generators kicked in and emergency lighting came on.

“Alright, alright, someone show them back here.“ A voice called from somewhere in the back of house and a waiter gestured for the Doctor to follow.

“Solidograms, nice trick.“ The Doctor stated as they walked into the back area. The projection, though solid and life like, had not been able to fool her. Amongst ornate decorations and piles of art, wealth and treasure, they found the real Dorium Maldovar. Yaz nearly fell over her own feet, startled to see Dorium’s balled head but little else. It sat in a wooden box atop a desk.

——

Sheffield, 2021

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, what is it we’re dealing with?“ Graham set down a fresh cup of tea in front of Kate.

“UNIT didn’t just cease operations for no reason and of its own accord.“ Kate revealed as she leaned forward and picked up the cup, some conversations were better had over a cup of tea. “Someone wanted us out of the way.“

“How do you know that?“ Graham asked sitting down again as well.

“When the defence budget was being discussed in a closed session, the director of UNIT and two supporting MPs were due to give statements. It was only a formality, the budget was due to be granted as it always has been.“ Kate started explaining.

“What happened?“ Ryan asked confused as to what could possibly have gone wrong if it had never been an issue before?

“The day of the session, all three advocates simply didn’t show up for their testimony.“ Kate gave a shrug.

“What? All three of them?“ Ryan frowned and Graham agreed:

“That’s one hell of a coincidence.“

“As a result, the budget was cut and UNIT had to cease operations.“ Kate carried on and took a sip of her tea. “Obviously, myself and many colleagues were shocked and went looking for answers as to why they didn’t show up.“

“And you found they’d been… what? Killed?“ Graham jumped to the most obvious, grim solution. If someone wanted UNIT out of the way they probably were planning something big. If this wasn’t about the Daleks, then who was behind it?

“Worse.“ Kate retorted.

“Don’t like the sound of that.“ Ryan shook his head, exchanging a concerned glance with his grandfather. This sounded exactly like the sort of thing they had been planning on protecting Earth from while the Doctor was away.

“They appeared to never have excited.“ Kate stated, looking into stunned faces. “The budget committee had no record of them being due to speak, in fact, Parliament had no recollection of the two MPs ever being elected.“

“What? They just disappeared?“ Graham asked, confused.

“Not just them, any record of them, any memory…“ Kate carried on, though she seemed to be having trouble phrasing her own thoughts. “The only reason I can tell you about this is because I read the file again on the way here. And even the files… they just… fade after a while. As does my memory. We have to keep reminding ourselves… and some details are lost already, like their names, what they looked like… it’s like they’re being erased.“ She broke off as she struggled to think of anything else to say.

“But that’s not possible.“ Graham crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You can’t just erase people.“

“I’m afraid it is, this is why we need your help.“ Kate gave them an apologetic smile. She realised they had probably been hoping for a break from the adventure, returning to their lives, as they had made the choice to stay on Earth but it couldn’t be helped.

“How can we help? We literally have a physic paper to our name, that’s about it.“ Ryan admitted. This felt like a tall order to tackle without the Doctor.

“There is one thing we have noticed. The memory loss seems to effect some people more than others. Like I said, the members of Parliament didn’t recall their colleagues whom they served with a mere day after the hearing. Even after reminding them, they can’t recall. Some of us at UNIT, however, seem to be able to retain the memories for a while, so long as we keep refreshing it.“ Kate explained.

“Why do you think that is?“ Ryan and Graham exchanged concerned glances again.

“The only correlation we have been able to find is the Doctor. The more time each of us has spent with them, the more… resilient out memory appears to be to change.“ Kate revealed, though she couldn’t quite make sense of it herself yet. They had a long way to go but this was a start. “That’s why I’m here, asking for your help, you are uniquely qualified.“

——

The Maldovarium, 52nd Century

“Well, I can’t very well be greeting customers in my current state.“ Dorium huffed as they came to stand around the desk where he could see them.

“Talking of current state, last I saw you, you were in the Seventh Transept.“ The Doctor observed looking around. Dorium had done well for himself, he was back in business. “It’s not like you walked out of there by yourself, is it.“ She returned her attention to the head on the box.

“I may have had some assistance, yes. You do realise I’m very well connected.“ Dorium pointed out and the Doctor huffed:

“You were sitting in the Transept for decades after Demon’s Run, you don’t expect me to believe that suddenly, miraculously, one of your cronies turns up to save you long last.“ She shook her head.

“Why are you here, Doctor?“ Dorium asked, hoping to change the subject.

“I told you, I need to know exactly what you told my wife.“ She answered. “And I would like to know how you know about it.“

“Well, it’s nothing really, just gossip, she likes me to keep her informed whenever new information about you arises.“ Dorium explained reluctantly. “I daresay, she would be delighted if I send her word of your change of complexion…“

“And what new information was that?“ The Doctor demanded to know, frustrated with his evasive answers. “I swear Dorium, if you don’t tell me right now, I will put your head on a spike outside your bar!“ She leaned onto the desk threateningly.

“Inspired choice of decor, Sir, if I might say.“ Strax threw in.

“Strax.“ Jenny sighed but no-one paid attention to his comment.

“Well, it was the first I’d heard of it anyway and I haven’t since.“ Dorium sighed, realising it was in his best interest to just come out with it. “The Timeless Child… I wouldn’t have connected it to you, had they not specifically said it related to you in some way.“ The Doctor’s eyes widened in surprise. It sounded as though someone had told Dorium on purpose. Someone had betrayed the secret of the Time Lords.

“That’s not something you just let slip.“ The Doctor shook her head firmly. After ages of burying the secret deep, there was no way anyone would just unearth and chat about it to just anyone. She also couldn’t imagine anyone would want to save Dorium without an ulterior motive? “Did they tell you to pass it on to River?“

“No, but I thought it would be just the thing she would want to know about. So as soon as I got home, I sent word to Darillium.“ Dorium answered. “You’re acting like I did something wrong.“

“Who was it that told you about this?“ The Doctor ignored his offended tone.

“The person that retrieved you from the Transept?“ Vastra suggested, sensing that it was all somehow connected. Her detective work had taught her never to ignore coincidence. Dorium’s silence was confirmation enough.

“That’s how it started, they must have done it on purpose. They knew you would pass the message along and that River would feel the need to investigate it.“ The Doctor mused, turning back to the others. She tried her hardest to keep her emotions under wrap but she felt the anger searing her insides. “It’s all part of a plan, part of a… game.“

“But why?“ Yaz asked, confused.

“Perhaps to make her leave Darillium? And your protection? And with her, your child?“ Jenny suggested.

“If they had been as calculating as that, they could have grabbed River the moment she left and kept hold of her until she gave birth.“ The Doctor shook her head, it didn't seem to make sense.

“They might not have if they realised how complicated her timeline was. She is a complex space time event like yourself. Her death was already a fixed point, intercepting her could have…“ Vastra pointed out.

“You’d need understanding of the time streams for that, you’d have to be…“ The Doctor mused.

“A Time Lord?“ Vastra prompted and the Doctor turned back towards Dorium.

“Who saved you from the Transept?“ The Doctor asked as the others exchanged concerned glances. “Who’s game is this?“

“Come to think of it, they didn’t actually give a name…“ Dorium mused before clearing his throat awkwardly.

“How convenient.“ Jenny huffed.

“I thought it was you at first. Not very many people are in possession of a TARDIS these days but judging by your expression, it probably wasn’t.“ Dorium explained, giving a defeated sigh.

“A TARDIS?“ Yaz exclaimed surprised and unsettled while the Doctor kept her expression stoic.

“What did they look like.“ She asked.

“Well, he was male… dark hair, beard… not very tall… but then, it’s hard to judge height when you’re sitting in a box…“ Dorium answered reluctantly.

“Doctor, do you think it could be…“ Yaz felt her stomach turn as the description sounded terribly familiar.

“He’s dead. The Master is dead.“ The Doctor snapped, refusing to entertain the thought.

“Wouldn’t be the first time you were wrong about that.“ Vastra pointed out more calmly.

The Doctor’s mind was racing. The Master was the only person who knew about the Timeless Child but she firmly believed that he had perished on Gallifrey at the release of the death particle. Surely no-one, not even the Master could survive that, could they?

Suddenly the atmosphere around them changed. The temperature jumped twenty degrees and screams sounded from the adjourning bar.

“What is going on?“ Yaz asked dizzy from the sudden change. Jenny drew her sword, as if awaiting an attacker to emerge. She looked to Vastra with great concern, she knew her cold-blooded wife would struggle with the sudden heat. Vastra was quick to throw her coat off, looking around as well, trying to keep her breathing steady. Strax backed up to the door, looking back into the bar.

“The cowards have run away.“ He announced when he realised the bar was empty.

The Doctor stood petrified for a moment, her senses overwhelmed.

“Something is happening to time.“ She breathed, feeling it in her very bones. The time line of the planet was in flux and it left her disoriented.

“What’s happening?“ Vastra breathed heavily and loosened the collar of her shirt.

“Doctor?“ Dorium called from his box. “Are you responsible for this?“

“Should I shoot something again? Perhaps the heating?“ Strax suggested.

Finally, the Doctor managed to shake off the confusion and she rushed to a window. Her eyes took a moment to adjust as she looked out. Gone was the dreary cold landscape and perpetual twilight of the unnamed planetoid Dorium had set up shop on. A blazing sun had appeared in the sky, practically cooking the surface below.

[httpbread]

So we know that (male) Akane doesn’t like supernaturals... how about we disregard his absolute devotion to Aoi and slowly make him realize he’s falling for a supernatural? Hcs or scenario is up to you, thank you! :)

Second Request:

Pairing: Akane x reader

Words: 5617

Hey! I really hope you don’t mind but I thought these two requests went well together so I combined them xx

—

“Kako-san~!”

Akane wanted to slam his head into the wall the split second he heard that familair voice.

That didn’t matter though.

No matter how hard he pleaded and begged, the old man still wouldn’t ban them from the domain.

But maybe… just maybe… if he hit his head hard enough, he could knock himself out, and he wouldn’t have to listen to their stupid voice. If he was lucky, he’d be knocked out for their whole visit.

Akane quickly realized his only luck had been spent when they thankfully sauntered past him.

“Yes, (Y/n)?” The old man croaks, not even peering under his hood, the rock of his ever creaky chair never faltering.

The invasive school mystery comes to a stop before his superior, “Any chance you’re in the mood for favors…?”

Sounds like someone was in trouble.

Serves them right…

Not that (Y/n) was ever free from trouble, as they were the definition of catastrophe all by themself.

However, their hobbies were no help to them.

Mystery no. 8, the gambling spirit, depending on the poor sap who has wandered upon the heathen, the stakes were different every time. From what he had seen, (Y/n) often based the gambles off of the individual’s desires, but whether they were the deeper ones they could get their grubby paws on or lighter ones depended on the spirit’s mood.

While one time he had watched them gamble a girl into the ground for a month’s supply of juice boxes…

He had also watched them gamble with their very life and everything they owned.

In that gamble, the student had lost, leaving everything they had to the school mystery, only for no. 8 to simply dismiss them.

While he often found them agitating just because of their sly personality, what was most annoying about them was how difficult they were to read.

Some days, they gambled with an iron fist, easily driving the most skilled players to the end of their wits and putting them down without even batting a lash.

Other times, he’d watched them lose games as simple as old maid.

Sometimes, he would think they’d do it on purpose, but other times he wasn’t so sure. They never seemed to care, high stakes, low stakes, they could both lose and win at either like no other.

They made no sense to him, which was another reason he tried to avoid them.

“Awe, come on, Kako-san, can’t we flip a coin? Heads, you help me. Tails, I clean your domain top to bottom.”

They’re on their knees before his superior, cupping their cheeks and batting their lashes up at the old man.

Again, he also avoided them due to their… personality…

“We have Akane do that already.”

“Yeah, but Akane doesn’t have a little problem he needs to solve! (N/n) here does,” they whine out, trying to make puppy-er eyes at the old man.

For such a deceitful creature, their appearance suited their needs quite well.

Big unsuspecting (e/c) eyes framed by long lashes. Plenty squish-able cheeks. A nice nose. Pouty soft lips. A tousled head of (H/l) (h/c) locks, framing their charming looks perfectly. Smooth hands covered in cute bandaids, making them look a little clumsy.

Angelic, was how Akane would describe them.

That is if he didn’t know them.

He knew full well that they used their innocent looks to their advantage, looping players into their web.

In a way…

He almost found it impressive.

They used every little thing they could get their hands on to their advantage.

However, that didn’t change the fact they were a demon dressed up like a cutesy student.

“Is it really wise to add another gamble to the one you already lost? What if you lose this one too, what will you do then?”

“They’re a gambling addict, Kako. I don’t think that matters to them.”

(E/c) eyes catch him, making him wish he never spoke.

“Addict?” They echo, tilting their head, an ever wicked smile upturning the corners of their lips, “Akane-kun, you wound me!”

Yet, they turn back to Kako.

“If I acknowledge my addiction will you gamble with me?” They ask immediately, cheery voice dropping to a more serious note.

Kako only rocks, gazing down at them for a long time.

Eventually, he mutters out.

“Sometimes I wonder if you’re really as inept as you act.”

This was not very reassuring to Akane’s own thoughts.

He didn’t know much about their relationship, but he knows (Y/n) and Kako had been friends for a great many years.

(Y/n) often popped into their domain to see if he was up for a gamble, usually giving up after a while and ends up playing more baby-ish card games with Mirai, who unlike Akane, was always delighted to see the spirit in their domain.

“Ohh! A mystery bet, huh?”

The glitter dancing in the (h/c) haired spirit’s eyes was far from a good omen.

Mystery bet? What was that about?“

"Which will it be, Kako-san?”

Abruptly, a coin shot high into the air above, the dim candlelight of the room kissing it.

(Y/n) held their palm out flat to the old man, extending him an all too familiar grin as well.

“Heads or tails?”

Akane blinks when the old man’s hand suddenly slaps down atop their much smaller one, surely before the coin could even land.

“Heads,” he mutters passively as if he hadn’t nearly lunged at the spirit, who looked just as unfazed.

Akane wonders if they had done this before.

“That means I’m tails,” (Y/n) clarifies, intense gaze holding the old man unwaveringly.

For a moment, they hold this silent, strange staring contest.

“Are you sure you don’t want to clarify the stakes?”

At this, Kako chuckles quietly, “Worried, (Y/n)?”

“‘Course not,” they comment, still smiling, looking almost amused at the prospect, “I’ve already won, Kako-san. Gambling with you is always a delight.”

“Then you’ll be happier to know you won the gamble as well.”

They blink at this, looking down as Kako removes his hand-

And sure enough.

Laying in the flat of their palm, the coin sits, tails side up.

“Oh!” Their face lights up like a firework on the Fourth of July, exploding with delight as they close their fingers around their coin.

Kako leans back, settling more comfortably into his rocking chair once again as the spirit cheerfully slips their coin into the pocket of their blazer.

“So?” They chirp, chipper as ever, “What do I win? Will you help me now?”

Geez. They really were hopeless, weren’t they?

“Nope.”

They deflate, dramatic as ever as they pout at Kako, “All that, and I still lost?”

“I didn’t say that,” the old man smiles, beginning to rock again, “I just happen to be too busy with my own work as of the moment. My apologies.”

Akane hastily looks away as Kako’s eyes find him.

Maybe if he pretended he wasn’t paying attention he would be safe.

“Which is why I will send Akane to help solve your problem.”

Except, no amount of playing pretend would save him from the knife lodging in his back.

The bright-eyed fiend instantly turns to blink at him.

He glares back at them, hoping they’ll catch a hint that he’d make their life a living hell if they took Kako up on his offer.

However, they turn and wail, “Kako-san! How is he supposed to help me?! He only stops time- and I need time to turn back!”

“You’ll have to figure that out yourself, (Y/n). You have my best wishes in your endeavor.”

He’s surprised at the conflicted look he spied dancing on the spirit’s features.

It looks genuine.

However, they relented with a sigh.

“Thank you, Kako-san…”

Wait, no-

“Of course, (Y/n),” he addresses the heathen, before gesturing for him, “As for you, boy, you’ll be helping (Y/n) for the next two days.”

He looks over at (Y/n) again, who’s clearly sulking, “Two days, right?”

“No. Just tomorrow, I guess,” they sigh again.

Kako nods, “One day, Akane.”

Even just one day… serving (Y/n)…

Maybe if he hit his head hard enough against the wall he could knock himself into a short coma instead.

-

The next morning, when he arrived early to school, normally ready to head to the student council room, he found himself reluctantly trudging past it.

Down the hall.

To the oldest classroom in this wing.

Once the gambling club’s room many years ago, now turned into the debate club’s headquarters.

However, the person who spent the most time there had no such interest in arguments.

He slid the door open.

They sat in the middle of the room, a solitaire game before them, eyes snapping up to find his.

They look surprised to see him.

“Akane-kun?” They utter, lowering the card in their colorful bandaid plastered hand.

They look confused, and a little worried to see him.

“Is something wrong?”

He wants to scream.

He does not.

“Idiot. Don’t you remember Kako’s deal?”

They blink at him.

Once.

Then twice.

“Oh!” A big smile finds their face, “Come in, come in!”

Now he wishes he never spoke. Maybe he could have lied and said Kako changed his mind. That Kako needed him for something today.

But no.

No, instead, he’d gotten himself further stuck with heathen number eight.

He reluctantly shuts the door behind him, shrugging out of his bag and setting it beside the door, watching as (Y/n) lifts their card back up.

They study it for a moment, before settling it into one of the rows.

Before promptly moving the whole row to another, different row, before flipping the last card over in that row.

Really? They were still playing cards?

They didn’t look nearly as worried as they had yesterday about whatever problem they had to deal with.

In fact, their pretty face looked almost peaceful as they picked up a new card.

They really were so beautiful when they didn’t open their big mouth. He was almost certain if their personality was any sense of vaguely tolerable they could have anyone falling for them.

Yet, as far as Akane knew, they never had anyone kissing their shoes in that aspect.

He sits down in front of them, their worn, faded cards sitting on the floor between them.

They glance up at him briefly, before drawing another card.

“Isn’t it early?” They set it down under a three of hearts, “You don’t have to be here yet.”

He shakes his head.

“Don’t patronize me,” he huffs, flashing them a narrowed look which they don’t even look up to acknowledge, “My orders are to serve you all day.”

They only nod, seeming a little absent as they pluck another card from the dwindling deck, “Ah.”

That’s all they say.

‘Ah’.

He finds himself staring.

What demon crawled up from hell and dragged his (Y/n) back where they belonged?

Because this quiet creature was not the eighth mystery he’d come to know and loathe.

“Just what is your malfunction?” The question slips off his scandalized tongue before he can filter it out.

The spirit looks up, (e/c) eyes a little round.

For that split second, they seem to forget themself.

Before they’re quickly grinning at him.

“Malfunction?” They echo, “What, do you want me to give you a shitty errand list or something?”

Akane squints at them.

Despite their suddenly chipper tone and their big smile…

Something is off.

He can feel it.

“Not particularly.”

“Then why don’t you do some school work or something until class?” They suggest, looking back down at their cards, “I’m busy.”

Akane’s mouth nearly drops open.

They weren’t even going to try and annoy him?

“Better yet.”

They suddenly swipe their hand along with their unfinished game, scattering it.

Their forced smile has vanished.

“You’re dismissed. I won’t be needing your help today.”

Akane never thought he’d see the day where he’d hear something like that coming from (Y/n)’s mouth.

He always pictured them grinning, with little red horns and a pitchfork, cackling with their innocent laugh as they poked and prodded him. Taunting. Teasing.

This wasn’t like (Y/n) at all.

“I don’t think so,” he pushes to his feet just as they rise to their feet.

They blink at him, looking down at his outwards arms, blocking their escape.

“I don’t know what your stupid problem is, but if you don’t start acting right, I’ll tear this whole school apart until its fixed.”

Sure, he couldn’t stand mystery number eight.

But he sure as well wasn’t going to stand this sad excuse for the eighth mystery.

“Hah?” Their brows are drawn, the spirit looking at him like he’s gone crazy.

And maybe he has.

“You heard me,” he huffs, unfaltering in his demand, “I’m going to help you whether you like it or not.”

Their eyes widened a smidgen.

But his eyes are more interested in the darling pink color dusting the bridge of their nose, along their soft cheeks.

“You can’t help me!” They utter, sounding scandalized, very firmly crossing their arms as they face him, adding, “Not that I need it.”

He reaches forward, flicking their cheek, “I wasn’t asking.”

They bat his hand away, offering him a sour look, “I don’t care. Aren’t you supposed to be my servant to something today?”

At this, a funny thought crosses his mind.

Making a smile curve at his lips.

“The old man only said I had to help you for the day. Not that I had to listen to you.”

They look a little stunned but very crossed at this statement.

Akane wondered if he could get back at the mystery with this loophole.

Two birds with one stone.

Solve whatever was bothering the gambler and maybe knock them off their game in the process.

-

At lunchtime, he found them outside, sitting at the fountain.

A flashy coin darted between their hands.

For a moment, he didn’t approach them as planned, watching idly.

The coin moved with an unforgiving pace, flashing between their skillful plaster covered hands for a couple of seconds before shooting up into their air.

When it fell back in range, it would shoot back and forth a couple more times, before flipping airborne again.

Yet, despite the coin tricks, (Y/n)’s mind was clearly elsewhere, a flummoxed look marking their features, putting a draw in their brows and a distant look in their eyes, pressing their lips together.

“(Y/n)?”

The coin flies out of their hands, their shoulders jumping.

“Oi! Don’t sneak up on people!” They bark, hastily turning to glower up at him.

The heathen looks at him for a moment longer, making their distaste clear, before grumbling under their breath, twisting around to scan their narrowed eyes along the water behind them.

They lift a hand, ready to plunge it into the water.

Only to have it pushed away as he finds a seat next to them.

“You’re going to ruin your bandages if you keep doing that.”

He takes their hand in his dry one, flipping it over to drop a new quarter in their smaller softer hand after he has dried it on his sweater.

When he releases their hand, he looks away, shaking out his now wet one.

Only to glimpse at their rosy face.

“What?”

He has to remind himself that there’s a demon under that pretty face of theirs and that he shouldn’t be fooled by their adorable blush and wide-eyed looks.

“Nothing.”

His eyes flicker down at the flash of movement, watching at the coin flips along their knuckles.

They’re back to fidgeting again.

He almost sighs.

“So, (Y/n),”

They don’t say anything, looking off again, coin only picking up speed.

“Why did you need Kako again?” He asks, despite knowing they would sooner die again than answer him, judging by the way they’ve been acting all day, “You said you wanted to turn back time, right?”

Accordingly, they don’t respond.

“Why?”

Nor do they respond to this, the coin suddenly shooting up into the air again.

He tries a different question.

“Is the reason why you needed Kako the same thing that’s got you all wound up?”

But the spirit remains silent, stubbornly refusing his gaze as the coin flickers between their palms again, before rolling across the knuckles of their left hand.

The coin is then in the air again.

“(Y/n).”

Then flickering again.

“(L/n) (Y/n).”

Up in the air.

But this time…

Before it hits their hands again…

He heatedly snatches it, swiping it with both his hands curling into fists, for arms making an ‘x’ as he glares at them.

They stare at him.

“My coin…”

He holds their gaze firmly.

If they wouldn’t answer his questions the easy way, they would do this the hard way.

“Which hand?”

They blink.

Quieted for a moment with confusion.

“Hah?” Their face then screws up, even more confused.

“I said pick a hand.”

He stares them down unwaveringly.

They gaze back.

“Pick the one with the coin and you can have it back,” He says lightly, “I’ll even leave you alone for the rest of the day.”

They quickly lift a finger.

“Pick the wrong one and you’ll tell me everything.”

They quickly lower the finger.

“What kind of game is that?” They scowl at him, not looking the slightest bit happy with these odds.

Akane isn’t sure when he last smiled so hard.

“What? Has the notorious number eight finally found a gamble they wouldn’t take?” He teases, leaning forward to further observe the displeased look on their face.

He wasn’t ever one to turn opportunity down when it came knocking at his door.

“Bastard!” They hiss instantly at his words, stirring a laugh from his lips.

As he chuckles, he relents to their claws as they hastily open his right hand.

But Akane knows they won’t find what they’re looking for.

They’re quiet in their dismay, poker face failing them as they stare down at his empty palm.

“Wh-What?” They quickly run their fingers across his help, “That can’t be! I saw you catch it!”

“How unfortunate,” he coos, lowering his hands.

He had to admit, they had a good eye.

But shouldn’t a gambler have a better eye for tricks?

Had they just flipped that hand over, they would’ve seen the coin they were looking for, slotted just between his fingers.

He leans back on his hands, discreetly placing the coin behind him as he retorts.

“Start talking, number eight.”

They look at him for a moment, indignation dancing in their eyes, written all over their pretty face.

“Fine,” they utter after a moment, (e/c) eyes narrowing at him, “You won.”

However, they’re then pulling a coin from the pocket of their blazer.

He almost distracts them by asking why the hell they were fishing them out of the fountain if they already had one, but he then recognizes it.

It was the gold one they always kept on them, the one they used for coin tosses, already passing back and forth between their hands like before.

“Do you know the biggest rule about my mystery?”

He looks up from their capable hands, but they’re gazing out into the garden.

“Never not be a demon?” He tilts his head.

He earns himself a scathing glance.

“No!” They huff, looking away from him again, “The law of my boundary is that I can’t turn down a bet!”

This is foreign to his ears.

“Okay, I’m a little flattered you didn’t know that,” they catch his surprise, “But you should also know that’s my own folly.”

Of course it was.

“What does that have to do with the problem then?” He asks, leaning back on one hand for a moment, pushing his glasses back up and back on his head to be more comfortable.

As he leans back on his hands again, they continue, “Because yesterday a boy came in with a bet I would have turned down if I could.”

His eyes are immediately fluttering back open though.

He sits up, not even blinking as his glasses are knocked off his head, taking a swan dive into the fountain.

(Y/n) is a different story, “Wh- Akane!”

But as they lunge forward, he hastily grabs their hand before it can hit the water, once again, a more pressing issue occupying his current thoughts.

“What did you bet?”

He hadn’t realized he’d come across so firmly until those owlish eyes found his.

Before quickly averting.

Their face is growing red, “I-I mean, it’s not that bad! Not at all! I just- well- uhm

Subconsciously, he trails his thumb along the bandaids littering their lithe fingers.

"Then what is it?”

They’re silent, avoiding his watchful gaze.

But how is he supposed to look away? The sweet rosy look on their face… It’s bewitching. Uncommon, for sure.

Plus, when would he get the chance to see the infamous mystery eight looking so embarrassed any other time?

But they’re mumbling something, and he can’t hear.

“You’re going to have to speak-”

“I lost and now I owe some guy a kiss!”

For a moment, he’s lost in their determined, flustered expression, not even properly realizing their outburst.

“A kiss? What’s so-”

His mutter comes to a stop instantly.

(Y/n) gazes up at him, the coin flickering across the knuckles of their free hand.

“A kiss?” He echoes, clarifying.

They nod.

“Pretty stupid to get all bent out of shape about, huh?” They murmur, a small rueful smile wavering on their lips.

His eyes narrow.

“Your first kiss?”

Three words and their face was growing hot again.

“Maybe!” They try to rebuttal, but a one-word argument was almost always bound to lose.

Except for this time, he supposes, judging by the bell ringing in his ears.

“By when?”

They blink.

“I think I’m supposed to meet him in my domain… after school today, I mean.”

He nods, looking down at their hand, still trapped in his.

Releasing it, he turns the fountain muttering, “Okay.”

They sit there, stunned as he reaches into the fountain, grabbing his glasses, before getting to his feet.

As he shakes them out, he tells them.

“I’ll see you then.”

-

“Akane-kun?”

Aoi’s voice barely pulls him from his racing thoughts.

He turns to find his friend gazing at him curiously, her tilted head propped up on her hand.

“What’s wrong?” He says, brows drawing.

However, Aoi only smiles at this.

“If you were listening,” she teases lightly, “You’d know I asked first.”

Him?

“Nothing at all,” he’s further confused, “Sorry.”

“I’ll accept…”

She leans forward, smiling with mischief.

“Only if you tell me what girl you’re thinking about."’

He wasn’t thinking about a girl, though.

No, instead, he was thinking of a boy.

He was thinking hard, trying to figure out which specific boy was asking for a bat to the face and a kiss from a particular ghost.

"I would if there was one, Ao-chan.”

But was there?

He guessed if you connect the dots of his wandering mind they did lead back to that idiot…

But still, that wasn’t like…

Sure, okay, he had kind of been thinking about her, but not in that way. Not the way Aoi, his childhood crush, was asking!

“Are you sure~?”

He blinks, looking up at her, who smirks a little at him.

Well, it’s not like he could lie to her.

“Not really…”

He watches as she draws a delicate hand up, burying a quiet giggle into it.

He makes a face, “Don’t laugh!”

“Oh? We’re laughing?”

“No, we’re not, no one is laughing,” he tells Yashiro firmly.

“Akane-kun has a new crush!” Aoi beams as she whisper-yells to the girl sitting behind him.

He looks at her, scandalized, “I do not!”

“Oh my gosh, Akane-kun! That’s great!” Yashiro whisper cheers at him, giving him two thumbs up and a big smile.

No! It wasn’t! Not that it was true but even if it was!

It. Was. Not. Great.

“Have you asked them out yet?” Aoi asks.

“Oh! If only the confession tree was still around,” Yashiro adds, “But what about the roof?”

“Too popular,” Aoi dismisses, “What about the garden?”

Akane is reeling, listening to their planning of his apparent confession to a ghost, unable to even speak.

“What about a love letter in their desk?”

“Oh? Maybe chocolates or something in their locker. They might like that.”

“Or flowers!”

“Oh! I’ve been growing some really pretty ones in the garden. I’d be happy to make you a bouquet, Akane-kun!”

However, the bell cuts through the madness.

For a moment, he forgets himself.

He’d been waiting for the bell.

But-

Fuck!

Akane launched to his feet, “Sorry, I have to go.”

“Huh? But what about your confession-”

But he’s already making his way off.

“Uhm- Akane-kun! What about your stuff?”

There’s no time!

“Akane-kun?!”

-

Three flights of stairs, seven halls, and two occasions of him just about tripping over his own feet-

The debate room finally came into view.

He didn’t hesitate for a single moment, nearly tearing the door right from the wall.

However, what he was expecting, sure as hell wasn’t what was staring back at him.

“Uhm.”

A boy speaks up, but Akane doesn’t think he’s the one who needs his fist in the face, “Can we help you?”

He slams the door shut.

Damn it!

For someone who could stop time, he sure as hell didn’t have time for this!

Why the hell was the debate club in the debate club room after school?

Where was (Y/n)?

And more importantly- where was the dead man who was probably kissing them right now?!

-

(Y/n) had probably dropped their coin seven times now.

“Are you ready now?”

“N-no. Give me a minute!” They hiss at the eager boy with the messy blue locks.

But the coin hits their lap again.

They couldn’t do it!

They couldn’t

Hell- they could hardly even flip a stupid coin right with their shaky hands- it would be like pulling a bar and new coin trick out of thin air!

And they were meant to just-

Meant to-

They were meant to-

They couldn’t even fathom it!

Give this boy, this cocky no-name guy-

Well, okay, he probably said his name at some point, they just didn’t listen very well, but still!

How the hell were they supposed to kiss this- this-

This absolute stranger!

They snatched up their coin.

It felt cold in their clammy hands.

Geez, they were getting way too worked up about this

They genuinely wished Akane was there. Of course, he made them nervous too, and he had a habit of making a mockery of their poker face, but they at least liked him!

Wait- no, not like that.

He just made them nervous in a good way!

Not like this, not in a way that made them feel like they’d throw up the butterflies racing around in their stomach.

An unwelcome hand finds their shoulder.

“Oh come on, I don’t have all day, you know.”

They choke down an angry retort.

“I know! But wait- just- uh, gotta wait for the right moment, yeah?” They flash him a fake smile, trying to cover up their feelings.

This was no good.

At this rate, they really might barf!

(Y/n) couldn’t even remember the last time they were this nervous. They weren’t even this nervous when they died!

But this boy- he’s taking their face in their hands.

“You don’t wait for the moment,” he argues, frowning at them in annoyance, “You make the moment.”

Their eyes widen harshly as he suddenly leans forward.

However, they’re hastily ripping away from him at the harsh slam that greets them.

Their eyes find an unfamiliar sight.

“A-Akane-kun?!”

His face is painted red, his hairs a tousled mess, and his glasses nowhere to be seen.

He’s panting, leaning against the door like he might pass out at any second.

“Oi, but off, vice,” the boy next to them scoffs, offering their fellow mystery a double thumbs-up, except, with their middle fingers instead, “We’re busy here!”

“The hell you are!” Akane huffs, voice sounding rough as he shoves away from the door, slouching a little with exhaustion as he marches their way.

(Y/n) can only watch in pure shock as Akane yanks the boy up by his collar.

They almost believe he’s going to put his fist through the poor sap’s skull.

Until their mouth drops open, watching as their friend slams his lips against the boy’s pair, who yelps instantly, jerking away like he’s been burned.

“Wh- What the fuck?!”

(Y/n) has the same question, staring up at Akane, stunned.

“You should be more specific when you gamble,” the brunet says, sucking in a breath as he begins to calm down as if everything was suddenly fine!

“Hah?!”

(Y/n) is even more stunned when Akane smirks.

“You just asked for a kiss. You should’ve made sure to say from who.”

At that moment, both horrifying and vaguely awe-inspiring…

All (Y/n) can do is stare up at the boy they know.

…

And start to laugh.

They weren’t present for the rest of the debate between the boys, too caught up in their own relief and humor.

Akane kissed someone for them!

He had kissed someone because they would have had to give away their first.

Akane had saved them, of all people, from a kiss, of all things.

Maybe they were just dizzy with relief, not in their right mind after so abruptly losing all the nervousness they had built up in their body, but they just couldn’t stop laughing, not even as the door to the roof shut, the boy they were meant to kiss long gone.

They didn’t stop giggling until their watering eyes found two shoes stopping before them.

They look up, grinning so hard their face hurts almost as much as their stomach from their laughter, only able to cheer at that moment, “Akane-kun!”

He gazes down at her, his face unreadable, but completely lacking the same humor they were suffering.

This sober them a little.

But doesn’t rid their face of their overjoyed smile as they push to their feet.

Or deter them from pulling the boy to them in a squeezing hug.

“Thank you, Akane-kun,” they tell him wholeheartedly, burying their tinge of embarrassment and their face in his chest.

“All better?” He scoffs, sour as ever with them, but the returning of their hug tells them he’s not too angry with them.

“More than better,” they reply, not wanting to move from his embrace.

It’s nice.

However, they part after a moment.

They look up at him.

He looks down at them.

“So- uh, what…”

They feel a small smile tugging at their lips again.

“What happened to your glasses this time?”

Akane blinks at this, reaching up to pay his face.

“Shit.”

-

“Geez, you left your stuff, your glasses, your wallet- Did you seriously drop everything just to be my knight in shining armor?”

(Y/n), in return for Akane’s help, had decided to help him looking around for said glasses, which he said he was pretty sure fell off in one of the halls on his way up to the roof.

They’re chatting the boy up absently as their eyes scan the floor, searching, “I mean, I can’t thank you enough, Prince Charming, but aren’t you supposed to be the smart one?”

He doesn’t respond.

“Sounds like a pretty big gamble if you ask me,” they comment, just as their eyes catch something out of the usual.

“Says you.”

“Says me!” They agree, grinning as they hastily scamper over the lockers, “The one who just found your glasses!”

They swoop down, easily plucking them from the floor.

Turning towards the windows across from the lockers, they hold them up to the sunset pouring into the hall, drenching the school in expensive shades of gold.

However, as they scan the glasses for insult to injury…

Their source of light is suddenly blocked, making them press further back against the lockers in surprise, finding a forearm next to their head, making a racket.

Akane is staring them down, chestnut eyes narrowed.

“Easy, Akane-kun,” they tease, a grin finding their features as they fold the glasses, lowering them to their chest due to the small space between them, due to the fact he was kabedonning them all of the sudden, much to their amusement as they warn, “You might kiss me next.”

“Wanna bet?” He challenges them, taking his glasses from their hands with his free one.

Thinking he’s joking, they comment.

“I’ve got a coin.”

But it becomes very apparent that (Y/n) isn’t going to need a coin for this stupid bet.

Their heart flutters, but they waste no time pulling him closer by tangling their arms around his neck, kissing him right back.

But Akane pulls back very little, breathing into the minuscule room between them.

“You’re so stupid…”

He was right.

“Maybe, but you’re the idiot who kissed that guy on the lips,” they murmur, positively smirking as they inform him, “If we were looking for loopholes, he didn’t specify the kiss was on the lips either.”

Akane huffs, “Shut up.”

(Y/n) does, promptly shutting themself up again with another heated kiss.

Gambling problem or not, at the end of the day- this day- they were very firm in the belief that all their issues were paying off.

Big time.

[dragonoffantasyandreality]

Kamen Rider Thunderbirds chapter 2

Finally its here! I should thank @willow-salix​ for some tips and @gumnut-logic​ for the review *hugs you tightly* Hai! so on with the chapter! :D

-0-0-0-

With a turn of the tap, a jet of hot water cascaded down on the pruning skin and exhausted muscles. They welcomed its heat as they relaxed.

It was quite a stressful rescue of getting the poor fellas out of that cave in Mexico. After returning home and reported the rescue, nothing like a good hot shower for the all mighty Scott Carpenter Tracy

He washed his dark-brown hair with silky shampoo and scrubbed his fit body with sweet shower gel that smelled lavender

God, that felt good

With all the dirt and dust gone, Scott turned off the shower and got off

He then spends his time fixing his hair. He needed to look good… always! Even when his little brothers make fun of him taking too much time with his hair, the eldest will always be the most handsome one

Finally satisfied with his work, Scott got himself dressed with his classic blue turtle-neck, grey jacket and black jeans, then wandered off to lounge

Familiar harmonies filled his ears and the room, all coming from the beautiful white Grand Piano. Its keys been gracefully pressed by the oh so talented fingers of his younger brother, Virgil Grissom Tracy

The auburn haired man smiled at him the moment Scott entered the lounge and gave him a salute before continuing his wonders of music

Scott looked at the wall where five portraits of him and his brothers were hung. 

Underneath them sat his trouble maker of a brother, Gordon Cooper Tracy, who was playing chess with Brains, the genius who help turn International Rescue into a reality

Looks like today the redhead seemed not feeling like pranking anyone

All in all, it was another quiet and mundane day at Tracy Island

Until...

"Urgh~!" A prolonged groan caught the eldest attention of a young blonde, who just splattered himself into one of the sofas of the lounge

Ah! Their baby brother, the youngest of the Tracy brothers, Alan Sherperd Tracy

Looks like he just came back after a short sprint around the island exhausted as hell… again

"What's up, Alan?" Scott smirked

A pout combined with a grumbling noise gave him the answer

"Gee, you're really are not fit…" the eldest teased

"Scott…" Alan whined, only to hear Gordon snickering quietly in the background "Not funny… I was trying to keep myself fit yet you fellas like take a tease out of me every time I get tired,"

"Alan! That's enough," got out a baritone voice 

Their father, the famous billionaire ex-astronaut Jeff Tracy, was sitting at his desk with papers all over it. He starred sternly at his sons

"All of you need to keep yourselves fit, it's not just you Alan," Jeff began, "You need fitness in order to be capable of performing tasks to save lives. No one wants to be rusty during a rescue, right?"

"Right, father" affirmed Scott

"Guess you're right dad," nodded Alan

"Understood, father" agreed Virgil

"Loud and clear, dad" grinned Gordon

"Good," smiled Jeff, "Looks like I made myself clear"

After finishing signing some of the paperwork on the desk, he turned on the TV behind him

"Now, let's see what's on the news today..." The patriarch muttered

"Today this Friday morning, four Kamen Riders had been spotted fighting a monster in Moore, Oklahoma…"

Immediately, Alan was the first to rush to his father's desk and promptly sat on a chair, staring dead straight into the monitor with a face-splitting smile and his blue eyes sparkled with enthusiasm

The rest of the family followed suit, ears and eyes wide open with curiosity

"Witnesses said the monster was about to terrorize their neighborhood, only to be saved once again by the heroic Riders. As the masked heroes fought the monster, it gave time to the authorities to evacuate the area"

Alan was quietly squealing with excitement as he listened, much to the confusion of Scott and the amusement of Virgil and Gordon

"Some of the rescuees managed to videotape the fight before police arrived at the scene..."

The news switched to the videos that the witnesses managed to capture of the Riders fighting the menacing threat, the Tracy family watching carefully with awe

The videos were almost blurry and mostly shaking. But, they could see 5 figures… 4 of them are fighting a threatening looking creature, looking like it's trying its best to fight back but was outnumbered. The last video showed the monster exploding into nothing

"Once again, the Kamen Riders saved the day. We are grateful for their bravery and we all gonna hope they continue their amazing yet otherworldly work!"

"Those courageous guys," muttered Jeff, "They never fail to impress me"

"You don't say, father!" excitedly chimed Alan

"Not surprised…" smirked Gordon

"What?" Alan growled,

"What? Every time there's news about those Riders, either on radio, TV or newspapers, you get way too enthusiastic about them!" Gordon pointed out, "I wonder what so special about your 'karate bugmen'"

"And why are you so interested in them?"  Virgil raised an eyebrow teasingly, crossing his arms

"Why? Because they are the coolest fellas I've ever seen!" expressed Alan as he was waving his hands, "They say superheroes aren't real, but Kamen Riders do! They possess powers that exceeded our wildest dreams! Don't you think it's also amazing at the fact that they are saving people with those kinds of powers. It's like a dream come true!"

Oh, is it no wonder Alan was obsessed with them? Thought Scott

Well, it shouldn't be a surprise, their baby brother was obsessed with the bugmen since he was 14. 

It all started with a news magazine. There was a small section with a tiny history behind them accompanied by few low quality and blurry pictures. Since then, Alan was invested every time they appeared

Kamen Riders does spark a bit of curiosity in Scott, he had to admit, and the rest of his brothers

"Can't say I blame you, Alan" admitted Jeff while turning off the TV

Everyone turned at him with curious looks

"What do you mean, father?" Virgil asked

"They existed longer than any of us, even before we went into operations," he explained, "But it's not just that that fascinates me. As Alan had said, these fellas are gifted with powers beyond our understanding. It's still baffles me that such people exist (if they are people at all),"

Scott noticed Brains mumbling to himself. He was lost into his own bright mind, his face told curiosity

The eldest of the Tracy brothers was about to say something, but his dad had already beaten him

"What are you thinking, Brains? Do we know anything else about them?"

"W-well, Mr, T-Tracy, I have observed the f-footage and have deduced that their, uh, their powers, have to be organic in nature," Brains explained

"What do you mean by that?" Scott raised a brow

"That they are not derived from human technologies…"

"What about the monsters that they were fighting?" quipped Gordon, seeming interested, “Why did those creatures want to enslave or eradicate humanity?”

"That G-Gordon, I don't know. Either way, we, we better thank the R-Riders to stop whatever evil schemes they p-planned to do,” the genius answered

“It's like those… Um… What are they called?” Gordon rubbed his chin as he thought

“What 'they'?" Virgil raised a brow

"You know, those 'things' who started killing and possessing people and all that crap ever since we've started colonizing Mars?"

"The Mysterons?" Alan replied

"Yes! Those guys! And some races of 'seamen' who seemed to hate us 'terranians' for some reason"

"That is Spectrum's and WASP's job to keep them at bay," noted Jeff

"Now that I think about it, why does everything want to kill us?" commented the redhead 

"That’s enough, Gordon" Scott cuffed the back of the prankster's head

"Actually, why are they called 'Kamen Riders'?” pondered Alan, “That’s a really strange name for superheroes,"

" 'Kamen' comes from a Japanese word for 'masked', since they originated from Japan," said a smart and sexy sounding voice

All turned to the portrait turned vid-com of the middle child of the Tracy brothers, John Glenn Tracy, who smiled when his sudden appearance startled his youngest brother

"Which means they are 'Masked Riders', so this isn’t that ‘strange’", continued the space monitor, "It totally makes sense since they ride on their weird looking motorbikes and we have no idea what they look like behind those bug-faces, "

"Ah, look who decided to throw smartass facts from the floating space can" grinned Gordon teasingly

"I've been hearing you fellas this whole time, squid face," deadpanned John

Jeff chuckled at the little commotion

"Hi, John. How are you doing up there?" greeted warmly the patriarch of International Rescue 

"Doing fine, father," the tall blond replied with confidence that seemed to be unbreakable, "All systems are go and the frequencies are coming in smoothly,"

Jeff smiled hearing the excellent news

That John...

As much he is the introvert of the Tracy brothers, he never stop surprising his siblings with his calculated bright mind

"Uh, John?" Asked Brains so suddenly, but that didn't startled the astronaut

"Yes, Brains?" Responded the space monitor

"Can we talk to my lab so we can examine the, uh, the footage more closely? We can make out theories about how the Riders use their powers,"

"FAB," acknowledged John

"Already found another side-project, Brains?" Scott chuckled,

The genius smiled at him, excitement shone behind his glasses, "I need something to do, Scott. As a matter of fact, I always wanted to study the K-Kamen Riders for a while!"

"Aw, Brains…" groaned Gordon, but in a childlike manner, "We haven't finished our chess game yet!"

"Uh, later, G-Gordon," Brains affirmed, "Right now, I got some 'bugmen' to study," before doodling away to his lab as hummed in excitement

Scott’s father laughed wholeheartedly, knowing how invested his old partner can get with something as intriguing as the ever mysterious Kamen Riders

“Well, gotta go help Brains,” remarked John, “Thunderbird 5, out…” before cutting off, the screen returned back into a painting once more

After that, everyone returned to their daily activities after that. Jeff told everyone to relax while they still can, before grabbing a book to read. Virgil said he’ll go to Thunderbird 2’s hangar to do maintenance and true to his word he went . Scott decided to play chess with Gordon as there was nothing else to do, while Alan just referee the game

The thought of Kamen Riders still linger in Scott’s mind, however. Who are they? Are they just people, like himself and the rest of the world? Who just so happens being gifted with powers that surpasses science?

He doesn't know…

No one knows...

Scott must've been distracted, because by the time he was think about the subject, he’s already got checkmated by Gordon

After a couple of laughs, throwing each other challenges(with Alan wished he had with him popcorn to watch the ‘epic chess battle’), they re-matched once again

It’s just another day at Tracy Island

-0-0-0-

Somewhere in a deep, tropical jungle, there was a menacing looking temple

Inside was a man in black clothing, standing near a round, ancient altar

He had already finished the ritual

The altar awakened in a bright glow of evil aura

Four amulets was insert in each side of the altar, glowing with each of their elements when a chorus of voices echoed the chamber's of the temple

"Who thou released us, what is your wish?"

The man in black smiled grimly as he told the answer, "I want an organization known as 'International Rescue' to fall into oblivion, so I can be the most powerful man in the world!"

A red amulet suddenly glowed brightly and took off from it's socket of the altar. It flew to the center before it was then engulfed in flames. After a few moments, the fire had faded. Leaving in its wake a silhouette of a menacing creature

Glowing red evil eyes stared into the man in black, seemingly reading his mind, before letting out a chilling grin

“I shall melt their fragile ships into nothing but molten metal…”

“Then I shall burn their feeble flesh to ashes…”

“And your wish shall be granted within an essence made out of their souls…”

 The temple shook by the sounds of maniacal laughs and echoed through the forest. It scared the wildlife as they run away from its evil influence

The master plan had begun...

The nightmares had been unleashed to the world...

tbc...

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

No more

A/N: I’m so sorry it took me so to finish this requests, I hope you still like it though! 

Summary: can you do one where Eddie's son gets into a fight to defend Richie?

Myra is a very opinionated person. Matt’s been on the brute end of her opinions more than once, and he’s done his best ever since to refrain from eliciting any argument pertaining his mother ever since. It’s simply easier to smile and nod along to what she says, to hear her words and realize how wrong she is but to still be quiet regardless. His father was the prime example of how to do it, nodding to whatever she was going on about at the moment but not retraining any info while doing so, and Matt’s picked that habit up, but lately he’s been feeling guilty.

Guilty because, in light of everything: his father leaving, him getting admitted to the hospital, him moving away to live with a guy and suddenly coming out as gay and talking about marriage with said guy, Matt still absolutely adores Richie Tozier.

It’s weird, because his mother despises everything about the man, and always has. He remembers watching one of his comedy shows a while before his dad left for Derry, and she had screeched his way to get that vile man of her tv screen and out of her home, stating that she got a sick hunch in the back of her mind whenever she saw his face. As can be expected, Eddie leaving her for him has not helped her see the light of the end of the tunnel for him.

By all accords, Matt should hate Richie Tozier with every fiber of his being. He doesn’t necessary like his mom or support her views, but he still loves her, because she’s his mom. Tozier is part of the reasons she’s hurting now, with her husband leaving her behind while starting a new thing with him. And, if Matt needed more ideas on why to hate him, the newspaper articles about how he murdered somebody was plenty to seal the deal.

Still, when his father had invited him over to go see his new house and meet the new love of his life, a lot more lively and happy, even daring to leave the house in the summer without putting sunscreen on, Matt agreed. His curiosity was peeked and with his phone at the ready to dial 911 at any given time should it be necessary, a cautionary directed to him by his mother, Matt assumed he was prepared to meet Richie.

He was wrong. In spite of all his expectations, Richie was fun, loving and an over the top good person. It was almost ridiculous how terrific he was, to the point where Matt was ashamed to admit to him that he had such bad expectations of him. Richie replied with a simple, ‘just like my parents’, and Eddie, fond but peeved, threatened to throw away his favorite mug and received a kiss on the check as a pardon. Matt decided right then and there, that as long as Tozier made his dad happy, Matt would like him the same.

Once Myra heard about the positive things Matt said about Richie, she promptly cut off all his contact with both his dad and Tozier alike. She justified her actions by saying that she was afraid she was going to lose Matt like she lost Eddie, but failed to understand that she was the one pushing Matt away by implementing all of her fanatic rules.

She obtains these crazy laws, as if she in any way could change the way Matt perceives things by simply by ordering him. She’s completely held in the dark, and has no idea that every day after school Matt makes a pit stop to hang around his dad and occasionally Richie. Those times are fun, but Matt misses Eddie more than anything, and he’s tired of having to keep his visit short and fleeting. He’s tried to talk to Myra about it, but she trampled all over him off before Matt even had time to debate his arguments.

He’s desperate for more time with his dad, who suggested Matt come live with him for a while, but he also feels weirdly guilty towards his mom at even the abstract idea that he would accept. She’s got no one besides her own son, and so he bears a big amount of responsibility towards her. He doesn’t mind the task, though he’s also not fond of it, but he had hoped there would be some sort of balance between his parents. That doesn’t see possible anymore, not with the way Myra’s been blocking Eddie’s attempts at conversing.

The metaphorical bomb shell, the destruction of the carefully planned strategy Matt used to keep his parents affairs separated, explodes on the day Matt tells her he’s going to spend an evening with Richie and Eddie. He tells her he’s going, he doesn’t ask, because if he posed it as a question, Myra would never allow him to go.

Still, the first thing that comes out of Myra’s moth is a very firm no, followed by a threat that she’ll take Matt’s cellphone away if he doesn’t listen. After Matt rebels against her, by stating that it’s technically not up to her, she shoves her chair back, picking up their plates aggressively and practically throwing them in the dishwasher. Matt follows her.

‘Mom stop. I haven’t ever held anything you said about dad against you, so why can’t you do the same for me? I’m okay with Richie being around, but that doesn’t mean I love you any less.’

‘How can you love me and still hang around those… those pigs that did this to me? Do you have any idea how hard this has been on me? I’ve got one less paycheck coming in, and I still have a whole lot of mouths to feed, my friends are gossiping about me and I can’t go into any room without it reminding you of your father. And it’s all Richie Tozier’s fault.’

‘No it’s not mom,’ Matt spits in a brief moment of exponential anger. He diminishes at once, ashamed that he spoke to his mother in that way. ‘I’m sorry’, he explains before his mother’s resentment can be misplaced onto him. ‘But it’s not his fault, he would never do anything to hurt dad. And dad wouldn’t have left if he didn’t want too. You know how he is.’

‘I thought I did, and I thought I knew you. I was sorely mistaken. This isn’t a time for to hang around someone who is mentally your age. I’m sure Tozier is very friendly around you and allows you to do anything you want, but that’s nothing but a ploy to get you on their side.’

She paces towards the fire mantel, blowing out a candle she lit before lunch. Clearly, she does this as another way to state that the conversation is over, but she can’t help herself but to throw more shade Eddie’s way.

‘If your father wasn’t so clouded in his judgment, he would realize that he’s still allowed to visit you. In our home, without that filthy man, but he’s not. Because of that, you need to choose, and you need to choose right now. A stranger or your own mother.’

‘You can’t do that mom, that’s not fair.’

She swivels on her heels with her nose high up in the air, dismayed at Matt contrary comments to her. ‘Then I guess you have made your choice.’

‘Mom,’ Matt calls out to her, ushering no other signs for her to halt her movements. He wouldn’t even know what to say anyway. Her mind is already made up, there is no room for both her and Richie in Matt’s life.

For once in his life, Matt fights against the urge to run after his mother and pamper to her needs. He doesn’t go up and apologizes, and he also doesn’t call to cancel the outing. He’s old enough to decide for his himself the type of people he associates with, and for once, it won’t be him that backs down from an argument.

He writes her a quick message on his phone, hurrying over to the front door so she won’t be able to stop him if she tried, and slips out quietly. Outside, Richie and his dad are already waiting for him, and once they see him, they wave excitedly like a bunch of kids. Matt shoulders sage, his worried cease to exist for the rest of the day, because he’s sure Eddie will never bring up problems with his mom up in front of him.

Eddie playful slaps Richie’s hand away, but instead of the later reciprocating, he leans in and kisses Eddie’s check. Matt rolls his eyes, but he can’t help the playful smile tugging on his lips. The fight with his mom will continue to nag at him until they make up, but he’s not regretful for sticking up for Richie and his dad, and that sense of rightness isn’t something that he’s had many times before.

[kumeko]

A/N: For Suga, who wanted a Renobowl! I’m sorry this took so long, but I hope I added enough characters/potential romance routes to more than make up for it!

…

…

…

…

i. Cloud

It was a ridiculously stupid. Reno stood in the unfinished basement of the cruddy bar, Seven Minutes in Heaven or something. A table stood in the center of the room, multiple painstakingly handmade maps sprawled over it. The walls were covered with blinking lights and cameras that were more stylistic than functional.

 This was the great AVALANCHE’s headquarters. This was where the renegade group of morons thwarted Shinra and somehow survived to tell the tale. This was where all of their slipshod improvised plans were made.

 “This is a shitshow,” Reno muttered, leaning against the wall. How the fuck had they even once lost to these guys? It had to be luck or something equally silly. There was no fucking way it was anything else.

 Even worse? He was joining this merry band of idiots.

 Maybe he had hit his head back in the church.

“You can leave anytime you want to,” Barret growled, glaring at him over the map. The guy overprotective of everything, whether it was his daughter, the bar, or the people he worked with. It was entirely unlike Shinra’s hands-off management team. Reno almost missed the single-worded orders and lingering silence.

 “Nah, I’m good.” Reno smirked, his lips curling back as he bared his sharp teeth. It had cowed the other, lesser members of the team, but Barret didn’t so much as flinch.

 “You try anything funny, and you won’t have a choice,” he warned, before going back to his ‘plan’.

 Reno snorted. Like he hadn’t already gotten that warning from AVALANCHE’s rabid dog. He could still feel the bar digging into his back from when Cloud had pushed him against it, his grip tight on his collar. Despite his constant claims of just being a mercenary for hire, there had been a rough concern in his voice as he’d growled If you betray us to Shinra…

 Cloud’s sword was sharp, his hands strong, and it didn’t take much to imagine just what he’d do if Reno turned traitor.

 Not that he’d planned to; he’d had enough being Shinra’s lapdog. Yet, even now he could feel Cloud’s hot breath on his face, his heart racing at the possibilities. If he had reached up to grab Cloud’s collar too, if he had closed the gap between them, what would have happened? How rough would it be?

 Rude had always warned him he was self-destructive, and well, he wasn’t wrong. Across the dark room, Cloud regarded him with Mako-bright eyes and Reno could only lick his lips in anticipation.

  ii. Tifa

 “Oh great, another one to haul out. Why can’t they leave before they pass out?”

 Blearily, Reno looked up from his empty glass. At the bottom was a drop or two of gin, and he pressed his lips against the rim as he tried to force them down.

 “Oh, you’re awake.”  

 Remembering the voice, he looked up. Standing across the bar, a pretty brunette eyed him wryly as she pried his glass away from him. His hand instantly clenched, but it was too late, she’d slipped it out too fast. There was something about her build, about the muscles on her arm and the smooth way that she didn’t so much as walk as flowed across the floor that reminded him about something. It was like a fighter’s. Or a dancer’s. Both were common enough in this town.

 “Youree hot,” he slurred, trying to reach over and take it back. He smirked at her; it worked about half the time, if he was lucky.

 Unfortunately, he wasn’t lucky today. She sighed, rolling her eyes as she set the cup down behind her. Walking around the bar, she wrapped an arm around his waist and hoisted him up. Immediately, he corrected his previous guess. She was definitely a fighter. That strength was no dancer’s, all muscle and little finesse. He was certain she could toss him over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

 “You should take me home,” he leered. No one could claim he knew when to quit.

 She wrinkled her nose and rolled her eyes, clearly used to this sort of talk. Opening the door, she hauled him outdoors. As usual, the slums smelled like coal dust and shit, but her whiskey scent cut through it. He was half drunk on it. “You smell good.”

 The bartender rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, where should I drop you off?”

 “My place then?” You couldn’t claim Reno knew when to quit.

 For his efforts, he was promptly deposited on the hard ground. Swiping her hands against each other as though to wipe off her germs, she firmly replied, “I’m sure you can make it back on your own.”

 Reno chuckled, getting up on wobbly feet. “Tomorrow then?”

 At her responding glare, he laughed the entire walk back.

   iii. Barret

Reno couldn’t tell you why he’d decided to suddenly help AVALANCHE. It certainly wasn’t one of those good reasons, like pity or kindness. It certainly wasn’t self-preservation either—if he wanted to live, he should have stuck with Shinra. The man owned almost all of the city and had more than enough connections everywhere else to make life uncomfortable.

 Then again, Reno had never claimed to be exceptionally smart. He’d always choked against every restraint put on him, always struggled underneath his former boss’s heel.

 (He remembered Tseng’s cold voice as he accepted the sector drop, and maybe that twinge of guilt had been more than just a twinge.)

 Either way, here he was lying on the roof of the building, the helicopter in pieces around him. Rude probably survived the crash, he survived everything, the dumb fuck, but he definitely wouldn’t be happy to see Reno after the stunt he pulled. Shinra had more than enough men to protect him, the ass.

 This was a stupid idea. Which was probably why he didn’t even think when he crashed their helicopter on the pad instead of fighting Barret and his band of merry idiots. What a stupid idea. They’d only live for maybe a few minutes more.

 He coughed and winced. That was a broken rib. Two, if he were unlucky, and Reno was always unlucky. He’d been born under a cursed star, after all.

 “You friggin’ moron.” Reno barely had time to open his eyes before he saw a thick, black arm wrap around his waist, picking him up with an unexpected gentleness despite the rough voice. “What were you doing?”

 “Saving your asses,” he croaked, laughing. Big mistake, his ribs definitely didn’t like that. Spitting blood on the ground, he smirked. “What’re you doing?”

 Barret snorted, running down the stairs in a desperate attempt to escape. Escape what? Reno frowned, his head aching as he tried to remember. There had been a bomb—the building was set to explode and he’d warned them.

 “We’re not gonna make it,” he mumbled. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Tifa and Cloud racing ahead, clearing the way.

 “We’re going to friggin’ try.” Barret tightened his grip as he bounded down the stairs even faster now, taking them three steps at a time. “Can’t believe you did that.”

 “And you’re carryin’ me.” Something about this struck him funny. He wasn’t sure if it was the concussion or if it had always been funny, but it was. He tried not to laugh. His ribs ached nonetheless.

 “Tifa insisted.” Barret ground out, looking a little put out. “You saved us, sure, but it’s probably ploy.”

 “I feel like a ploy,” Reno agreed. That made sense. He was certain that made sense.

 “Yeah, you do.” Barret tried not to jostle him as he turned down another flight of stairs. The whole building was endless. No wonder Reno had taken the helicopter up. “But I guess she’s got a point. No one’s going to kill themselves just to get in.”

 “I’m in?” Reno wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Queasy, though that might have been the concussion.

 “I’m not letting you near us, but you get to live.” Barret glanced at him, the hardened face of a leader. “You’ve earned that much.”

 “Have I?” he questioned, but his head jostled and he fell into the welcoming darkness.

   iv. Sephiroth

 There were many things Reno expected during his time with the Turks, but sitting in a helicopter across from SOLDIER’s greatest warrior hadn’t been high on the list. Considering the kind of wild card he was, he’d expected the brass to keep them as far apart as possible.

 Maybe the higher ups liked flirting with danger too. The chopper’s blades were loud and it was hard to think, let alone talk. Reno glanced at the door, taking in the snowy mountains below. “Why’d anyone want to go to a nowhere like this?”

 Sephiroth didn’t say anything, only coolly regarded him with bright, mako-infused eyes. Something sparked underneath his peaceful expression, some sort of violent storm that was just waiting to explode. Reno didn’t want to be anywhere near when it happened.

 He also wanted to stand right in the middle of it all.

 Rude had always called him a contradictory bitch.

 “I can see them sending me over to this boring backwater town as a punishment, but you?” he raised a brow, egging him on. “Thought you’d be too big to come here.”

 His silver hair almost hid his face as he leaned against the other door and silently took in their destination. Quietly, he replied, “You can stay on the helicopter when we arrive. You aren’t needed.”

 “Huh?” Reno snorted, resisting the urge to yank on his long hair and force him to look at him. If there was one thing that grated on his nerves, it was being ignored. “What, you want to hog all the glory?”

 “There’s two SOLDIERS.” His gold-flecked eyes met his, and Reno was certain now that he saw some spark of untameable emotion behind his glass exterior. “A Turk is useless.”

 “I’ll show you useless.” He smiled wolfishly, all teeth. Sephiroth’s eyes narrowed, just a smidge, and he personally made it his goal to see just how long it’d take for the big man to lose control.

   v. Aerith

 “Oh, you poor dears,” Aerith murmured as she knelt in the single patch of sunlight in the slums. Reno had once wondered just what the odds were that it shone through the hole in her church, that it hit the only place flowers grew, and then remembered he’d hated numbers. “Don’t worry, I’m here.”

 Hands in his pockets, Reno slowly made his way down the aisle to her, his footsteps echoing in the vast room. People might have come here once upon a time, but it was abandoned now, forgotten by all but a lone flower-girl. He glanced at the torn-up flowers at her feet, the over-turned dirt, and snorted. “This happens every time. You should just let them die.”

 “Never.” She immediately rejected his suggestion just as she’d done the last nth number of times this had happened. “You could help, you know, instead of standing there.”

 He shrugged. “They don’t pay me enough to watch you and help you.”

 “You don’t have to watch, you can just help,” she replied sweetly, her innocent smile not quite masking her sharp eyes. The girl was a match waiting to light up. “I won’t tell.”

 “Sure, and Shinra won’t have my head when he finds out.” Reno rolled his eyes. They had this conversation once a week. The company goons would come and get her (they also didn’t pay him enough to help them), she’d beat them up and flee, they’d make a mess of her garden, and she’d fix it up.

 And then rinse and repeat.

 It was boring. If he had to get stuck in this small-time slum with this small-time girl, then at least he should be properly entertained. “Why do you even care about those things?”

 “They’re pretty,” she replied earnestly, her fingers digging in the dirt and righting a plant. “They’re resilient. And…”

 “And?” Reno raised a brow.

 “I like them.” She grinned as she lied. He was pretty sure that the reason his boss wanted her was in her last, silent response. “Do I really need another reason?”

 “For this much work? Yeah.” Reno shrugged.

 Aerith chuckled, tucking a lock behind her ear. “If you say so. But if you change your mind…”

 “Not happening.” Reno snorted, sitting in a pew a couple of rows down. Crossing his arms on the bench in front of him, he rested his chin and watched as she went back to work.

 He was starting to sit closer each time.

 He didn’t want to think about what that meant.

   vi. Tseng

 “We’re balancing the scales,” Tseng ordered, his voice carefully neutral. It was always careful with this guy. The bastard liked to pretend he didn’t have feelings, that he was above all that. That the cold that came naturally to Shinra was also his own.

 Reno knew better. He made the same lies, only he didn’t buy into them. “Yeah…not.”

 “Do you really believe that?” Unfortunately, Rude bought Tseng’s act wholesale. A tragic flaw of his. As soft as he was, he needed some point to this, some reason for it all. There wasn’t. There never would be. And he’d never accept that. His hand clenched as he stared at Tseng.

 Reno knew Tseng’s response before he even opened his mouth.  Whatever the man might feel, he wouldn’t change his mind. “Does it matter?” Tseng raised a brow. Thatching his fingers, he regarded them coolly. His eyes lingered on Reno’s, as though he knew what would come next.

 Maybe he did. They did the same song and dance every time this happened. “What questions? We do the thing.” Reno shrugged, sitting up now. He ran a hand through his hair. “Just like always.”

 Rude looked at him sadly and sighed. “I’ll get ready.”

 Disheartened, he left the conference room, glancing back at Tseng one last time like a kicked puppy. If tactics like that could work, they wouldn’t be in this business in the first place. Reno snorted. As the heavy door slowly closed shut with a soft thud, he finally turned to Tseng. “You’re a fucking liar.”

 As usual, Tseng didn’t even bother to look up from his computer. His fingers ran quickly over the keys, tapping in an unknown code. Maybe if he did it enough, he could become one with the machine. “I didn’t lie.”

 Reno laughed, slipping off the couch and stalked toward the desk. Tseng still didn’t look up and he growled.

 Nothing got to him more than being ignored. “Every time you open that mouth,” he grabbed Tseng’s jaw, “You lie.”

 He didn’t so much as flinch. His eyes were dark. “I’ve never lied.”

 “Even that’s a lie,” Reno muttered.

 Tseng turned off his monitor. “Don’t make a mess on my desk this time.”

 “No promises.” It was all the warning Reno gave before he tugged Tseng closer and crashed his lips on his. There was nothing smooth or gentle about what they did—about the way Reno cleared the desk with a crash or Tseng pulled at his jacket, almost tearing it. This wasn’t a relationship, wasn’t anything more than just pent up emotions needing a release.

 And if that release was something physical, almost always bruising, then all the better. Hell, if he left enough marks on Tseng’s perfectly clear skin, then perhaps he could pretend he’d actually protested what they’d done.

That he’d tried and quelled the ghosts that refused to leave him alone.

  vii. Rude

“What if we flew away?” Rude asked, glancing at Reno as they flew the helicopter to Shinra’s building. There was a strange lit in his voice, one that took Reno several seconds to recognize as hope.

 “Back to headquarters?” he asked, playing dumb. Maybe it’d be enough for Rude to back away like he always did, take the coward’s way out.

 “No,” Rude shook his head. For once, he was being obstinate. “I mean…away.”

 It was his fault. He’d never been one for pillow talk, and that was the reason that Rude insisted on ambushing him everywhere else with these types of conversations. Hell, they were half-way to destroying AVALANCHE, and the man wanted to talk about escaping Shinra. Reno snorted, shutting it down immediately. “Like that’s fucking happening.”

 “But if it could?” Rude asked again, oddly insistent. His hands curled on the throttle as he eased the helicopter up. With his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses, it was hard to tell what he was thinking.

 “Fine.” Sittng back in his seat, he rolled his eyes. “Let’s say Shinra doesn’t kill us or hunt us down. Where would we go?”

 “One of those small towns on the outskirts?” Rude suggested, though he sounded like he’d thought this out for months. Maybe he had.  Maybe if Reno had just pretended to listen and slept through it all when they were in bed, he wouldn’t have to deal with that now. “There’s dozens of those.”

 “There’s a reason they’re small.” Reno scoffed, wrinkling his nose to the idea. He could barely handle them for a mission, let alone living in one. “What would we even do?”

 Rude shrugged, trying to sound casual. “Farm?”

 Reno snorted. “Can you imagine? Or maybe you could, but me? Do I look like a farmer?” He gestured at his body. Even on his best days, he knew exactly how scrawny he was. In all honesty, he’d always been a city boy; even the slums here were more interesting than some backwater town.

 “There’s other things to do.” Rude flicked a switch and pressed a button. “It’s a small town, not the middle of nowhere.”

 “Might as well be.” Reno watched as they got closer and closer to the tower. Any minute now, they’d have to jump out. Getting up, he glanced at Rude. “You good now?”

 Something about him deflated as he nodded. “Yeah. I guess.”

 Reno bit back a groan. This is why he shouldn’t have even encouraged him. What a pain the ass. Looking out the window, he grumbled, “We can talk about this tonight, fine?”

 He could almost hear Rude smile. There was that annoying, hopeful sound again as he replied, “Yeah.”

[morsking]

*sephiroth thoughts* the scene where sephiroth and cloud are at the mako reactor watching the experiments gestating in their coffins sephiroth explodes with rage and to show us what sephiroth is specifically raging against we are treated to a shot where one of the monsters crashes out of its coffin and promptly dies in agony. what sephiroth is seeing in the monster about himself is the fact that monster didn’t have any say in its own existence. it was a person that was experimented on and turned into an unrecognizable and grotesque creature whose only purpose was to suffer and perish shortly after gaining sentience. 

sephiroth had lived feeling like he wasn’t human, that he was different from others as a child never knowing exactly how or why that was so he lived in isolation craving to be part of something but knowing there was something about his nature that prevented him from being part of anything. so when sephiroth finds out about jenova reading the (mistaken) records inside the shinra mansion he finds the perfect justification behind his loneliness and his anger. it all finally makes sense. the reason why he could never fit in with humans is because he isn’t one. he isn’t a monster, he is an angel who had paradise, the place he really belongs, stolen from him. a beautiful being who was wronged by an ingrate, parasite race that needs to be eradicated for its crimes against the rightful rulers of the planet. to have wronged the cetra was to have wronged sephiroth personally because he is evidence humans are still benefiting off the suffering of a noble race, and that he wouldn’t have to suffer if humans were gone and cetra were all that remained. after all, if sephiroth was a monster destined to suffer and die, he is only that because that’s what humans made him out to be, and therefore his plight is all their fault.

and that is the reason why he feels so threatened by aerith too. aerith is the last of the cetra, and unlike him, she is pure. sephiroth feels an immense amount of jealousy towards her because she is the ideal creation he cannot be because she has the genuine connection to the planet he believes he should have and yet doesn’t because his is actually tainted by jenova, rather than being a blessing he inherited from her. in his eyes, she is also an unforgivable hypocrite and traitor. why should she fight to protect the world that rejected and murdered their ancestors? the fact that she would even try to do so means she deserves to die with humans and kills her when he has the chance. she is a perfect target to project both his hatred of humanity and his own self-loathing and that’s why she is also the only party member who he successfully, and personally, kills. 

it is rather fitting that when he rips out jenova’s chassis at the nibel mako reactor, it is a machine that resembles an angel that once removed, exposes a grotesque demon-like creature behind it. the irony is lost on sephiroth that he himself has destroyed his own vision of jenova as an angelic being and revealed the nauseating abomination she really is. that itself ties into how sephiroth’s true heritage is 100% fully human. he was born to human parents who injected him with jenova’s cells and hid the truth from him to make him easier to manipulate, and lied to him so that he’d never want to pursue a parent that had died. he isn’t jenova’s biological child, he just wants to believe that he is both because he doesn’t know the truth and because it gives meaning to all his suffering and something to which direct his existential rage and despair. in that respect, he can distance himself from that lonely, miserable, pitiable creature on mount nibel that died so pointlessly and so painfully, unable to grasp its own existence and make something with it.

[ericsonclan]

The Truth Behind the Lie

Summary: Violet shares the secret of why she pretends to be blind with Prisha.

Word Count: 4609 

Read on A03: 

“Truly a lovely day for a frolic through the countryside,” Prisha noted as she and Clementine walked their horses out of the paddock. The morning air was crisp in their lungs, seeming to hint at the opportunities the rest of the day held. Tragically they would be confined to the tents for most of the day in meetings with Lee and the rest of the leaders of the revolution, strategizing how they would deploy the troops within the next crucial months. For the moment though, they were free to do as they wished and the pair had decided to spend their time taking a morning ride together to celebrate their last few days near New York before they would need to move on.

Clementine nodded happily at Prisha’s words, stepping into the stirrup and lifting herself onto her horse with a light grunt. They were preparing to ride out from camp when they noticed Brody walking in the direction of the paddock. “Brody!” Clementine called with a friendly wave. “Care to join us?”

“Actually, I did come here looking for you, but not to join,” Brody answered, stopping beside Clementine’s horse. “You both have visitors. I bet you can guess who,” Clementine and Prisha shared a look before looking back to Brody who had a playful grin on her face. “That’s right: the Mason siblings. All three of them,”

“Three? They brought Willy to a military encampment?” Prisha asked in disbelief.

Brody nodded. “They said he begged to come along,”

“We’d better go meet them,” Clementine turned her horse away from the open fields to the camp. “They’re by the main entrance?”

“That’s right. Have fun you two – gotta make the moments count before we head out from here,” Brody teased.

Neither of them bothered to answer as they rode off. There was no point trying to deny the infatuation both of them had fallen into with the older Mason siblings. Both had snuck into the city whenever they could spare the time and run into their fellow soldiers more than once while in the company of their respective Mason. Trotting through camp, both Clementine and Prisha couldn’t help but feel excited at this unexpected visit. As they neared the front entrance smiles broke out on their faces at the sight of their visitors.

Louis and Violet were in the midst of an improv game of hopscotch. Lines had been drawn in the dirt and Louis and Willy seemed to be competing for some sort of stakes, jumping excitedly from square to square while Violet’s eyes stared blankly at the ground, a small smile on her face at the sound of her brothers’ merriment. Their attention turned to Clementine and Prisha as the pair approached and they ran up to meet them, pausing just short of running into the horses.

“Clem!” Louis exclaimed, his grin growing as he looked up at her.

“Good to see you, Lou,” Clementine replied, pulling her horse to a stop.

“Violet,” Prisha inclined her head to the blonde lass. “A pleasure as always,”

Violet simply nodded, clearly too flustered to do more.

“And I’m here too!” Willy exclaimed, popping out from behind his big brother. “Are those the horses you guys ride into battle?”

Prisha smiled fondly down at the lad. “In fact they are. I’m happy to say this girl has been with me for two years now, my right hand in every fray,” She gave her horse an affectionate pat, her fingers drifting softly through its black mane.

“Mine’s a bit younger but she’s got enough fire in her to face down all the redcoats herself,” Clementine bragged, pleased when she saw Willy’s eyes widen in wonder.

“Wow! Did you ever get to jump them over anything during battle? Like an exploded crater or a whole line of enemy soldiers?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t overwhelm Clem and Prisha with all these questions, buddy,” Louis said, holding his brother back from stepping even closer to the horses and giving his hair an affectionate ruffle.

“If you’d like, I could actually give a tour of the grounds,” Clementine offered. She loved showing off all that the revolutionary troops had accomplished so far and doing it in front of Louis was an added bonus.

Willy’s eyes practically bugged out of his head at that offer. “For real?” He looked up at his brother, tugging on his arm frantically. “Can we get a tour? Can we, can we, can we?”

“I wasn’t planning to say no,” Louis chuckled, sending a wink Clementine’s way before stepping forward to help her down from her horse.

“Wonderful! We’ll just drop by the pasture first then I can give you the full tour. Prisha, Vi, are you interested too?”

Prisha considered it for a moment before noticing the expression on Violet’s face. Though her eyes were downcast, it was clear at a glance that she was distraught. Continued public attention and the need to continue her blind charade would only aggravate her further. “I believe we shall be turning down the offer, but thank you, Clementine,”

“Alright then. We’ll see you two later,” With that Clementine walked off with Louis and Willy in tow, leaving the pair alone.

Hopping down from her horse, Prisha walked over to Violet and gently took her hand while keeping her other on the reins. “I was thinking a ride through the countryside would be just the thing to brighten my day this morning and I can think of no better company than you. Would you care to accompany me?”

“Y-yeah,” Violet murmured, glancing up at Prisha briefly before her eyes took on a blank glaze once more. She was quiet as Prisha guided her over to her horse, her only noise a small gasp as Prisha took hold of her small waist and helped lift her up onto the back of the saddle.

Climbing up herself, Prisha glanced back at the object of her affections, reaching for her hand once more. “You’ll have to hold onto me to avoid falling off as I plan to move rather quickly. Is that alright?”

“Sure,” Violet’s hands slipped round Prisha ever so softly, her fingers tentatively taking hold of the edges of Prisha’s uniform before tightening.

Prisha felt her heart flutter at the gesture. Clearing her throat, she tried to maintain her decorum. “Alright, here we go,” With a flick of the reins and a light tapping of her heels they were off, riding past the camp and out onto the open fields. Prisha had explored the surrounding area time and time again for both strategy and pleasure. She knew just where she wanted to take Violet: a secluded pond just a mile or two off the road, surrounded by a grove of oak trees that provided plentiful shade on even the hottest days. The ride was too brisk for conversation and Violet still seemed lost in her own thoughts so Prisha focused on getting them there as promptly as possible, relishing the way the wind blew back the wisps from her face as they continued at a gallop.

About a quarter hour later they had reached the grove. Slowing her horse down, Prisha continued at a walk until they reached the pond. Prisha dismounted, looped the reins over the nearest branch then helped Violet dismount as well. Taking Violet’s hand, Prisha slowly led her to the tree closest to the pond, making sure she had comfortably settled against the base of the tree before taking her own seat.

Violet still appeared perturbed; her brows knit together as her mouth pulled down in a frown. It was clear even now that they were alone the reason for her nerves had not gone away. That must mean one thing: she was nervous about saying goodbye. Prisha had been dreading it as well. She had always been able to cut previous romantic ties with ease, citing her career and her calling as reasons she must move on. But in this case, Prisha found herself loath to dust off her usual farewell speech. She didn’t want saying goodbye to Violet to feel rehearsed. It needed to be authentic. Prisha cleared her throat to begin. “Violet, I-”

“Prisha, there’s something I need to say!” Violet spurted out, her eyes widening and falling when she realized she had interrupted Prisha. “Sorry,”

“No, please continue,”

“Prisha, I… I think I should enlist,”

That statement caught Prisha entirely off her guard. “What?”

“I should enlist. All the reasons I had for faking my blindness seem like shit now and I can’t just let all of you leave and stay back like a coward,”

“If this is some ploy to ensure that you end up in the same unit as me, as much as I appreciate the sentiment there’s no way I can ensure-”

“No, it’s nothing like that! Just- just listen, okay?” Violet looked up at her love with a grave expression. Prisha nodded and she continued. “I never told you the story behind why I pretend to be blind. When we first met you called my bluff right away. I was so busy being fucking terrified that you’d tell everybody my secret that I never brought it up. Then when I started, well,” Violet spluttered a bit on her words, cheeks flushing, “When I started falling for you I didn’t want to talk about it either. I was afraid you’d be ashamed of me, of what I had done,” Violet’s eyes were on her hands which were nervously playing with one of the ribbons upon her dress.

Reaching out, Prisha gently took her hand, rubbing her thumb against it. “I could never be ashamed of you,”

Violet’s eyes brightened a bit at that statement before dimming. “Just wait and see. I guess I better tell a bit more about my family for all this to make sense. I bet you figured out that Louis and I aren’t related by blood,”

“A complete shock,” Prisha noted dryly. “But continue,”

“Louis is General Mason’s son. After the first Mrs. Mason died, my mother married his father. She’d already had me and Willy at that point. My father had passed away. I don’t have much to say about him except I’m glad his corpse is floating somewhere at the bottom of the ocean. But yeah, my mom married Louis’ dad and for a couple years everything was good. But then my mom got sick and, well…” Violet let out a shaky breath, “She died too,”

“I’m so sorry, Violet. It sounds as though life hasn’t always been kind to you,”

Violet shrugged, not meeting Prisha’s eyes. “I get by. I have Willy and Lou. That’s all I really need for family,”

“And General Mason?”

“I never liked him. When my mother was still alive he put on an act in front of her of being a caring father whenever he bothered to show up. Most of the time he was away on business trying to get even richer than he already was. But when he was home and my mother wasn’t around, I saw the way he treated Louis: always pushing him, always trying to make him do things he didn’t want to do, be things he never wanted to be. And when Louis didn’t do as he said, he told him he was a disappointment. One time I heard him tell Louis that it was his fault his mother died, that something about how he was born broke something inside her and made her sick for years. Hearing the way he spoke to his own son… I fucking hated him,”

“How did he treat you and Willy? Was it more of the same? If he hurt you…” Prisha paused, uncertain what she would threaten, but she wished to threaten the man.

Violet shook her head. “It was never like that. For some reason, he cared most about excellence in Louis, I think because he was his blood. With me he mostly let me do what I wanted and took me on hunting trips and stuff when Louis ran and hid. He always liked that I was good with a gun. Said I was a born shot. But I didn’t see much of him really. After my mother passed away, he was barely ever home. And then the revolution started, and we never saw him at all. He took Louis with him for a while. They were gone a couple weeks and then all of a sudden Louis was home. I asked him what happened, but he wouldn’t tell me. His father was furious. I heard them fighting one night in the study when he came for a visit. The next day he rode back to rejoin his unit. He doesn’t visit anymore,”

Prisha listened silently, all the while softly stroking Violet’s hand which was clenched tightly round her own. She was glad to learn more of Violet’s life even if it saddened her to hear much of it. “I’m sorry, Violet. You deserve a better father than him,”

“There’s more to tell. We haven’t gotten to the whole blindness scam, remember?” Violet gave a wry, bitter smile, her eyes locked on the still, quiet pond. “Louis had been home for a few weeks. I had gotten sick a little while after he returned since I chased Willy out in the rain to get him inside when he wanted to watch a thunderstorm. He didn’t get sick at all. Figures. I got sicker and sicker. Couldn’t even lift myself out of bed. Felt like I was gonna die. That’s when a letter came, one from General Mason. He said I was to join the 55th regiment and serve under him,”

“He didn’t know you were sick?”

“He hadn’t even bothered to check in. Anyway, I was far too sick to read or answer any letters, so Louis answered it for me. And in that letter, he lied. He wrote that I was gravely ill and that the illness had left me blind,”

“Louis was the one who started the lie?” Prisha asked in disbelief. He didn’t even seem capable of a fib.

“Yeah. I was pissed when I found out what he’d done. I told him the lie was utter shit, that there was no way I was going to pretend to be blind for the rest of my fucking life. I told him he had to write to his father and tell him the truth and if he wouldn’t then I would do it myself. Louis grabbed all the ink, quills and papers and tossed them all out the window, knowing I was still too weak to even make it downstairs. That’s when I snapped. I told him he wasn’t going to make me out to be a fucking coward the same way he had done to himself,” Violet’s shoulders shook a bit as she let out a stuttered breath. “That right there’s the worst thing I’ve ever done,”

“He clearly forgave you,” Prisha gave Violet’s hand a gently squeeze. “Your brother loves you,”

“Yeah, but you can never take words like that back. Those words broke Louis. He started crying and he told me everything: why he was banished from the 55th regiment and why he couldn’t let me join,” Violet paused, flicking a piece of grass from her skirts. “You’ve met General Mason,”

“Yes,”

“People say he gets results,”

“I tend not to approve of his methods,”

“You’d be in the minority then,” Violet sighed. “Louis said that in the weeks he was with the 55th, his father ran the men ragged. Battle after battle, never a moment to rest before marching onto the next conquest. At every battlefield more died than Louis could keep track of, but they’d always win. More troops would be sent for and it would all start again. Lou spoke to his father, asked him why he pushed so hard, said there must be a better way to win our freedom than by sacrificing the lives of all we were trying to save. General Mason replied with some flowery bullshit about the price of liberty and the glory of sacrifice,” Violet scoffed. “I knew all he cared about was power and glory, but I didn’t think he’d kill so freely for it. I was wrong.

Things came to a head between Louis and his father after the last battle Louis fought in. It was a small skirmish, but they managed to capture a handful of redcoats. General Mason believed they had valuable information on the movements of nearby British troops, but they wouldn’t talk. He told Louis to kill one of them as an example to scare the others into being more cooperative. Louis refused. He was sent home the next day. He said that night in the study his father called him an embarrassment and a coward. Just like I did,”

“Louis knows you don’t feel that way,”

“The timing couldn’t have been shittier though. Louis had one more thing to show as well: a letter General Mason had already sent back after he heard I was blind. It was short, just two sentences long. Very well. Do your best to see she is married off respectably and briskly. Now that I was blind, he had no use for me as part of his household. I was a broken tool, just like Louis,” Violet shook her head, her eyes bitter. “Knowing that, I vowed I would never allow him to use me again. He had already thrown me away, so I wasn’t about to risk my life on the battlefield in some sort of sick service toward his glory. So I went along with the charade. I pretended I was blind in front of everyone expect Louis and Willy and that’s been my life for the last few years,”

“Violet,” Prisha’s voice was soft, her expression somber. “Thank you for sharing all of this with me,”

Violet shrugged. “I had to. I couldn’t have you go away and not know the reason I keep up this whole shitty lie. You…” Violet looked down, her voice a mere mumble. “You mean too much to me,”

Prisha felt a rush of emotion shoot through her entire being at those words. She feared her own voice might betray her as she tried to summon the courage to speak. “You mean a great deal to me too, Violet. I admire you immensely, the way in which you carry yourself, strong, confident, not giving a damn what the world might have to say about you. Hearing your story, I understand how you came to be so wondrous just a bit more. And I know I show an ease with flowery language that might make it seem as though I say such things regularly. But believe me when I tell you, Violet Mason, I have never been so enchanted by any other,”

Violet’s eyes were larger than ever at those words. She looked almost frightened for a moment before the spark of Prisha’s words lit something deep within her own eyes. “The things you say about me… I don’t see them in myself. But I want to. And that’s why I want to join the revolution. Back when I decided to take on the lie about my eyes all I knew about the war was that General Mason was invested in it for his own ends and I didn’t want to give him anything. But meeting you and all the other soldiers has made me realize it’s so much more than that. You have a purpose, something bigger than yourselves that you care about. You’re all working together to build the future you hope for. I want the world to be the one you dream it will be. So I want to fight too,”

“Violet,” Prisha cautioned, “This is not a decision to be taken lightly. Your life may very well be forfeit should you take it on,”

“I know. But that’s exactly what all of you are doing each and every day you fight for freedom. General Mason was just bullshitting when he talked about liberty and sacrifice, but with all of you it’s real. I see how passionate Clementine gets when speaking for the war effort. I watch how passionate you are each time you talk about what’s being done here and that someday you’re going to do the same thing for France. If I stay here just because I’m scared of what could happen out there, then I’m the coward. And I don’t want to be. I want to be the version of me I see when I look in your eyes,”

The thought of Violet working side by side with Prisha thrilled her. If Violet joined, then they wouldn’t be parted. They could spend each and every day together, riding horses, running drills, planning for the future. They would have each other’s back in battle and see the beginning of this new nation hand in hand. It was a beautiful, perfect dream… but a dream nonetheless. It only took a moment for Prisha’s expression to wilt as she shook her head. “Violet, everything you said is beautiful, but I think we both know it cannot be,”

Violet’s brows knit in concern. “I know I’d have a lot to learn, but-”

“It’s not that. I’m certain you would be an exceptional fighter. But it’s for that very reason I cannot allow you to join,”

“That doesn’t make any sense,”

“Normally it wouldn’t. But as much as your heart on the matter has changed, your circumstances have not. If you were to join the revolution and perform admirably it would indeed put you side by side with Clementine and I on the battlefield, but only for a moment. Then your father would hear of your achievements and want you fighting by his side instead, as the trophy you were so loath to be. And considering his tactics, your life as that trophy would most likely be short-lived indeed,”

Violet bit her lip, looking aside. She knew what Prisha said was true but the dream was loath to die. “You and Clementine have sway in the army, don’t you? You both work for General Lee – that has to hold weight!”

“It certainly does, but not enough to veto the whims of a general. And should General Mason claim he wished his daughter to fight by his side, Lee would have no choice but to fulfill such a seemingly reasonable request. I admire the drive within you to join us in our cause, but Violet, I will not knowingly endanger your life when the path to its end lies so clearly before us,”

“So what do I do then?” Exasperation and desperation mixed within Violet’s voice. “Continue what I’ve been doing, which is nothing? I can’t keep living like that, Prisha! I won’t let avoiding death at General Mason’s hands mean I don’t live at all!”

“There are other ways to serve, Violet! Join the war effort like Aasim has done! Raise funds, gather supplies, write in support of the revolution! There are plenty of things needed beside soldiers. Smuggle contraband, gather intelligence, but please, I beg of you, lay this idea to rest! As wonderful as it would be to have you by my side, I need you alive. I could not bear to lose you,” Prisha’s hands were shaking as they gripped Violet’s.

The blonde looked up at her soldier in concern. “Prisha,”

“You mean more to me, Violet, than I daresay most anything does on the expanse of the earth. Perhaps some part of me has been holding this back but… I love you, Violet. That’s the long and the short of it,” Prisha’s voice quavered as she said those words, her eyes bright and vulnerable.

“Shit. I- fuck, that’s no way to start,” Violet shook her head slightly as though trying to clear her thoughts before her eyes once more met Prisha’s. “I love you too, Prisha. I think we both just fell into it without either of us really knowing what’s going on, but as crazy as it all makes me feel, I’ve never been happier,”

“Then be mine,” The words had passed Prisha’s lips before she fully realized what they were. Both of them froze, awestruck by the words.

“Yours?” Violet’s tone was barely above a whisper.

Prisha nodded. She had meant those words even if her tongue had outpaced her mind. Taking Violet’s hands, she kissed them before placing them upon her heart. “I want to be with you, Violet. I know for a time that will mean my words are the only thing that will reach you while I myself am a far way off, but my love will be present in each and every phrase. And once this war is over, we can be together again as we are now. Together in the new world that will just have begun,”

A soft smile overtook Violet’s face, her joy abundantly clear. “Prisha, if you want me, I’m yours. For as long as you’ll have me,”

“I do want you,” Leaning forward, Prisha captured Violet’s lips in a passionate kiss, the force of it driving Violet’s head against the tree. Violet let out a hiss of pain and Prisha immediately withdrew. “Are you alright? I-”

“Don’t stop,” Cupping Prisha’s face, Violet met her lips again in a deep, lasting kiss. Everything stopped within that moment, the silent ecstasy of the moment crystallizing in that one kiss. It became another and then another, small, longing, stolen kisses till both of them drew the shortest distance apart to catch their breaths, their foreheads still touching.

Prisha found herself lost in the beauty of Violet’s eyes even as she struggled to gather her thoughts. Then one clear memory broke through. The strategy meeting. It would be starting soon. “Violet, we…”

“Have to go. I figured,” Violet nodded softly before closing her eyes and leaning in for one more kiss. “Alright,” She rose to her feet, dusting some stray blades of grass from her petticoat. “Are you busy all day?”

“Throughout the morning. But perhaps in the evening I could call upon you?”

“Supper?”

“It would be my delight to join you for it,”

“Knowing Lou, he probably already invited Clementine. We’ll make a night of it then. Enjoy every moment we have before you go,”

“I think that’s a splendid idea,” Prisha let her hand brush lightly against Violet’s before taking it. “The faster we return to camp then the sooner I’ll be done with my duties and can see you again,” She led the way back to her horse, unlooping the reins and turning it round. Violet was silent, clearly loath to part after all that had just transpired. Prisha looked up at the slant of the sun. There was still some time. “Perhaps a quick ride round the meadows before we turn back,”

Violet’s eyes brightened at the offer. “Definitely,”

“Well then,” Prisha got onto her horse herself before offering Violet her hand. “Shall we?”

Nodding, Violet took her hand and with a small grunt hoisted herself into the saddle behind her. “Let’s ride,”

With a flick of the reins they were off, Violet’s arms tightly wrapped round Prisha’s waist as they galloped through the countryside. There was still much to come for both of them and neither was naïve enough to believe it would all be easy. But instead of goodbye a bond had been formed this day, one they knew would sustain them through whatever they might face till the day they could once again be hand in hand and never let go.