#putting this cursed post in my ask tag anyway and making the whole damn fandom look at it rip

[tearsofgrace]

HUGE shoutout to @galaxycastiel and @jellydeans for writing a prompt that was EXTREMELY difficult to make sad. i still did. but. 

written for destiel december day 5: shopping

word count: 1.1k, tags: panic attacks, cas is dead, sort of post 15.19? other characters mentioned, dean centric, shopping

The whole thing was stupid. The lights. The goddamn tree. The presents they were supposed to get and have neatly wrapped by Wednesday morning. 

Couldn’t Sam see none of it mattered? What was the point in celebrating a Christmas with none of their family there? 

When he’d raised the matter, Sam had looked at him with those fucking puppy dog eyes and frowned before answering, “Our family is gonna be there, man. Jody’s driving in with Donna and the girls, Stevie and Charlie said they could make it.” His face had gotten soft for a minute as he added, “And Eileen will be there, of course.” 

Dean hadn’t answered in the moment. What was he supposed to say? That none of that mattered if Cas wasn’t there? Because it didn’t. He couldn’t just pretend everything was fine, pretend everything was normal, when the one person (angel?) that held him together was gone and it was all his fault. 

Dean sat outside the mall for a while when he got there. It was all stupid. He didn’t want to go in and buy things for his alive family to open with smiles and giggles while his family that filled the cracks and made him feel like he was allowed to smile was trapped alone in the Empty. 

After a second, he took a deep breath and got out of the car, trying not to slam the door as he walked into the shopping mall. 

It was bustling, people flooding everywhere and chatter and laughter rising up into the cold sky. It was two days before Christmas, so he shouldn’t have been surprised. But as he got closer, he felt his heart rate tick up and he started glancing around frantically. He needed to find all the exits, to find his way out. Anyone here could be a monster. Anyone here could try to take him. Anyone here could-

He took a deep breath and pushed through the mall entrance, wishing he’d been stupid enough to just bring his gun in anyway. 

He kept his eyes downcast as he walked through the stores, the Christmas music assaulting his ears the whole way. People’s eyes kept finding him, looking him up and down before glancing away in sympathy. Great. So now he looked broken enough that total strangers could tell. 

He thought he saw dark hair and a trenchcoat in front of him once, and his heart jumped in his chest, his throat growing dry. The man turned around even as Dean sped up, and his heart sank. It wasn’t him. Of course it wasn’t. He was an idiot. A stupid piece of shit who got his best friend killed. 

Cas’ haunted tear-filled eyes swam in front of his face and he took another deep breath. He needed to go home. No- he needed a damn drink. 

Sam had been hiding the alcohol. Like Dean wasn’t a grown-ass man who could take care of himself. Like he didn’t know that it didn’t matter if he had issues, this was the only way he could deal with losing-

Dean pushed into the store, pushing Cas’ face from his mind. Pushing his words, the ones Dean had wanted to hear from so long, into some back corner where they would stay until the inevitably resurfaced, leaving Dean gasping and in tears. 

“Welcome, sir!” The voice was to his left and he spun quickly, too quickly, to face it. 

Get yourself together, dammit. 

The shop attendant took a step back at the action but quickly recovered and fixed a smile to her face. “Anything I can help you with today? I can help you find a perfect gift for that special someone!” she gestured around her and her smile grew. 

He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath, letting his mind focus on the air going in, on it leaving his body. “I’m fine.” It came out harsher than he meant. But she just nodded and turned away. 

The lights above him were bright. Too bright. 

He ignored them, pushing past the people as fast as he could, taking a basket and throwing things into it at random. None of it mattered. All they wanted was a damn present they could open so they could look at him and pretend he was okay. He had to pretend he was okay. 

Someone brushed against him and he flinched. The lights glared down. His breaths were shaky but he was done. He was almost done. And he was okay. He had to be okay. He had to be-

He took steps to the cash register, breaths coming in and then out. In and then out. 

Something pushed him forward and he heard a mumbled “Excuse me.” 

He whirled around, reaching for a gun that wasn’t there, and the man who’d walked past him froze, staring at him with wide eyes. 

In and out. 

“Sorry,” he said gruffly, trying to put an apology in his voice but failing miserably. 

“What the fuck is your problem, man?” 

Dean looked down at his hands, still held out toward the man gripping an invisible weapon, and he shrugged the basket from his arm, letting it clatter to the ground. 

He pushed through the doors quickly, his heart pounding against his chest. Everyone was looking at him. So many people. All of them monsters. No, that wasn’t right.

The crowd parted for him as he barrelled for the exit. Every touch against him sent him flinching, every light twinkling from the trees and wreaths called out to him, mocking him, every breath scraped his lungs like needles. 

Then suddenly he was outside, the sun even more glaring than the invisible lights. It glinted off the snow he hadn’t even seen covering the ground as he raced across the parking lot, ignoring the people swirling around him. 

He slumped into the front seat of the Impala and clenched his hands on the wheel, gripping tightly. His knuckles went white after a minute and his breathing started to slow down. That’s when the tears started. 

“Come back to me,” he whispered to the empty car. 

He didn’t know how long he stayed there, hands gripping the steering wheel with all his strength, tears pouring from his eyes, an angel’s sweet smile filling his head. 

When he was done, he tried to clean himself up. To make himself look okay for Sammy, for the guests that would have arrived while he was away. He didn’t know how he would explain coming back empty-handed. He didn’t care. 

His mask firmly fixed in place, Dean put the car in drive and pulled out. 

When he got home, Sam took one look at him and his face fell. He didn’t say anything about his lack of presents. Didn’t say anything at all, actually. 

They would just keep pretending everything was okay. They had to keep pretending everything was okay. 

Dean had to be okay. 

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[dailylogyn]

Logyn Meta: Loki & Sigyn’s relationship in the Marvel Comics

Photo Source (by Sexy-Salmon): https://lokisergi.tumblr.com/post/70164902295/siege-loki-problems-it-almost-looks-innocent

Other Logyn Meta’s: https://dailylogyn.tumblr.com/tagged/logyn-meta

Did you know Sigyn was in the Marvel Comics long ago? Did you know Loki had a wife? 

Oh...that’s probably because Marvel wanted you to forget their terrible writing mistakes concerning this great Norse Couple. 

Let’s dive into this exploration of history where the Marvel writers realized they fucked up on telling a perfectly good couples story, and in the process, setting off a spark of rebellion that caused some retconning and a group of fans to demand justice for both Loki & Sigyn -- not just as a couple, but as their own individual beings. 

#JusticeforSigyn #JusticeforLoki #JusticeforLogyn

Where it First Began (Meeting & Marriage of Lies):

In September of 1978, Thor #275 came out featuring the first appearance of Sigyn, Loki’s wife from Norse Mythology. She was introduced as a beautiful Asgardian Loki had randomly come across while looking into a crystal ball inside his castle, wanting to find some companionship to fill his loneliness. 

However, when Loki came with riches and jewels to offer her in exchange for her hand in marriage, Sigyn outright rejected him, stating she would never take someone as vile as him, even stating she was already engaged to an Asgardian Warrior part of Odin’s guard -- Theoric. 

Unable to accept this, Loki came up with a plan to have her fiancee killed during a mission, resulting in the Trickster taking on the disguise of Theoric in order to take Sigyn for his own. Despite having slightly suspicions of her lover being more romantic than before, Sigyn didn't notice that her lover wasn’t exactly who she thought he was.

Now comes the day of the wedding as Odin marries the happy couple. This was when Loki finally revealed his true self and what he had done. Odin tried to null the marriage, but it was against Asgardian law for even the High Father to do such a thing. Hence, Sigyn accepted her fate as Loki’s wife. This caused Odin to name her the Goddess of Fidelity. 

Where it’s Heading (Cargo of Incantation-Fetter’s Arms):

Loki being Loki, he did some shit that ended up with him being imprisoned in a tree by Odin, something that infuriated Sigyn, resulting in her trying to take control over Donald Blake to use over the All-Father as a way to free her husband from his punishment. However, it didn’t work out, resulting in a bunch of other crazy shit happening and putting Thor on their trail.

After Balder was killed, Loki was put on trials for his crimes and received yet another punishment that Sigyn had to protect him from -- having burden over the fact she was “the evil’s wife.” Just like the classic Norse tale, she holds a bowl over his head, shielding him from snake venom and leaving to empty it momentarily when it became full, resulting in Loki cursing her. 

Also, Loki and Sigyn had a child -- Narvi, but they died young, being used as the binding to imprison Loki (following the Norse myth too.) 

Some more crazy shit happens and now Odin has shackled Loki to Sigyn so he doesn’t cause anymore trouble. Loki of course is not pleased about this one bit. Having had enough of this, he went to Odin demanding to be released, only resulting in him being banished to an outpost. 

There Just Might be Hope????:

Some more shit happens again, resulting in Loki being stuck in an astral form and bound to a suit of armor so he could reside in Asgard thanks to Sigyn. A fight happens with Thor, Loki and Mephisto, putting Sigyn in danger. This is when for the first time ever, Loki ends up having a tender confession of love over Sigyn, asking Thor to save her since he could not.

It’s unknown if this is just Loki putting on an act or being real, but you know how the Trickster God can be. 

After the battle, while Loki had released Sigyn from her marital vows, his wife swore to always be there for him when he needed her.

And that’s the last we see of Sigyn’s regular appearance in the comics in 1996. She makes a cameo in Avengers: Unleashed #1 in 2019, but it’s nothing more than a flashback to her time of helping Loki. 

A Hypothesis & Notes on their relationship in comics:

The whole entire plotline consisting of Theoric and Loki killing him in order to obtain Sigyn is just something most of the fandom doesn’t like. Not only does it objectify Sigyn, but it makes Theoric a Pointless character to introduce anyway, only used as a tool for means in which Loki can get Sigyn, when honestly, he could have done so in a different way.

I like that they stick with Sigyn being the faithful wife of Loki (that’s who she is), but they honestly don’t give her any agency in this besides that trait alone. The writers don’t even let Sigyn be her own damn person! She is SO MUCH MORE than Loki’s loyal wife. SHE IS A FREAKIN GODDESS! I know there is more we can do with her.

Instead of pulling the ‘woe is me, my husband is evil and I’ll just go along with it’ card, something else could have been done. LIKE LITERALLY, ANYTHING ELSE! We know Loki can be a troublemaker, but Sigyn knows how to deal with his shit. She isn’t some damsel in distress here! It’s another reason Loki likes her.

Couples can bicker in times, it’s normal in marriages and relationships, but to have Loki whining about how much of a burden Sigyn is is just....WHY? I mean, you went after the woman and killed another guy for her. This is what you wanted! *shakes head at writers*

I will give them kudos though for some of the stuff near the end when Loki actually starts displaying his true feelings of love towards Sigyn. And sadly we only got a little taste of that...and we aren’t even sure if it was an act or Loki being real.

THE FACT THAT SIGYN ISN’T EVEN IN THE COMICS ANYMORE SINCE 1996. She’s only mentioned, but it’s just as a tale, not as an actual person who USED to be his wife. They literally killed her off. EXCUSE ME! #JusticeforSigyn (We’re still waiting for her in the MCU...)

NORSE MYTHOLOGY TIE-INS:

There were some moments in the comics between them that they writers took from Norse Mythology with them. Thought It’d be important to list.

Loki’s Punishment of snake venom dripping onto him while Sigyn holds a bowl to collect it and shield him.

Narvi being Loki & Sigyn’s son who was killed and his insides used to bind Loki for his punishment.

Sigyn being Loki’s wife. 

DIFFERENT WRITERS, DIFFERENT CHARACTERIZATION:

As is the case with everything out there, if you have different writers working on the same project, there is bound to be a difference of characterization and interpretation, resulting in OOC moments or just something completely different altogether. After researching and pondering on this subject, I FULLY believe this is what has happened with Loki & Sigyn’s relationship in the comics. Let’s take a look at the evidence I’ve found:

For the comics Sigyn’s creators were Roy Thomas, John Buscema and Tom Palmer. 

Loki’s creators for the comics were Stan Lee, Larry Lieber, Jack Kirby, Violet Barclay, and honestly, many others.  

My favorite quotes on them from the comics:

Wait? Despite the crappy writing, I actually have quotes I like from the comics? GASP! I call these the only positives from the comics of their relationship. 

“My Sigyn-- the love of my immortal life...” — Loki, Thor Annual Vol 1 #19

“Aye-- For only Sigyn, of all in the realm eternal, feels love for Loki. And among all Asgardians, only for Sigyn does Loki feel...” — Loki, Thor Annual #19

“Sigyn loves me-- just as she is the only thing in the nine worlds that I truly love.”— Loki, Thor #483

Photo Source: https://www.zerochan.net/1262293#full

Fandoms Wish for MCU & Future Appearance Justice:

Fans would like to see Sigyn make an appearance, not only in the MCU (Marvel Cinematic Universe), but also the Marvel Comics once again. They would like to see Loki & Sigyn’s characters done justice with proper writing, especially regarding their relationship with each other. 

This is why there is plenty of fans out there writing Fanfiction, making Fanart, Roleplaying and even Cosplaying them, giving their interpretation’s of what their relationship would be like. This is THE VERY REASON this blog and @sigynappreciation​ was created to help spread awareness and unite fans who feel the same way. 

These characters are very near and dear to our hearts. Some of us even worship them in our religions. We would like to see their relationship grow and portrayed in a way that helps fill the pieces of the missing puzzle to how they came to be in Norse Mythology. 

CONCLUSION:

Although their relationship in the comics usually leaves fans grimacing, at least we got to have it explored. Who knows if Marvel will ever touch anything with them ever again, but at least it’s brought together a small community that continues to go strong -- and honestly, that kind of unity is what Loki & Sigyn would want. 

So imagine to your hearts content! Draw that fanart! Write those fanfictions! Dress up in that cosplay! Be those characters! But just remember, you have a family here to love and support you. 

SOURCES:

Sigyn’s info on Marvel Database: https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Sigyn_(Earth-616)

Loki’s info on Marvel Database: https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Loki_Laufeyson_(Earth-616)

Sigyn on Marvel Universe: http://www.marvunapp.com/Appendix/sigynthor.htm

Logyn on the Shipping Wiki: https://shipping.fandom.com/wiki/Logyn

Loki & Sigyn’s relationship through Media: https://www.alehorn.com/blogs/blog/norse-mythology-loki-and-sigyn

[xxtraord1nary]

POV

Fandom: Open Heart

Pairing: Tobias Carrick x f!mc (Charlotte West)

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Constructive criticism is always welcome! No hate please and thank you for reading reblog and comment if you enjoyed.

Summary: A very naughty and heavily pregnant Charlotte much prefers her handsome lovers point of view.

Warnings: Strong Language, Fellatio, Sex, and a tad of dark humor. If that makes you uncomfortable please exit stage left because you’ve been warned. Overall vulgar.

Tag list: @katkart122 @missmiimiie @openheartfanfics

“Tobias, I am not playing with you get that damn camera out of my face! It's way too early for your shit.” Charlotte snapped whilst swatting at the pest she called a husband as he continued to record his very moody wife with his old camera he found a couple a months ago when Char ordered him with a broom in hand to go “clean that damn garage” or he could sleep on the couch for a month, so that being all the motivation he needed Tobias got to it with vigor.

“You're really good at this whole black mama thing Charlie.” he teases with a shit eating grin plastered on his stupidly perfect face. “Keep it up and I’ll be a single black mama if you don’t quit.” she grunted while taking down her plaited kinky tendrils that in the morning tended to have a mind of their own.

“Now why would you say that?”

“Because I’m going to kill you” she said whilst continuing to grumpily apply toothpaste to her electric toothbrush.

“Really talking like that when I’m recording, then the police will immediately know who to be held responsible in the case of my untimely demise, Charlie.” he further ribbed while shaking his head playfully behind the lens.

“Screw you and the police Carrick.” she spat.

“Babe, you know all you have to do is corporate and let me get my daily picture of you and our little Tiny Tia. So get with the program.” he chided with a small but genuine smile as he further gazed at the love of his life and their little one growing inside her very pregnant belly.

“Alright two things: that name is super cute and I’m surprised you came up with that yourself.”

“I’m good for something, see?” to which she answered with a ‘meh’ and shrug of her shoulders.

“I’m offended.” and again another answer in the form of shrugged shoulders and a hard roll of the eyes.

“Now for two, why on earth do you need a picture every day?” she whined with tired eyes.

“This is our first child out of many, I need to capture every moment. Now lift up your shirt!” he confidently proclaimed.

She didn’t want to burst his little bubble but if he thought for a second she was pushing another of his big headed babies out of her lady parts he was sorely mistaken. ‘What the hell is “out of many” anyways?’ she pondered with a perplexed expression. “Absolutely not, I look like a gross ragamuffin.”

He sighed, “Charlie lift up your shirt or I’m gonna hold out.” he asservated pleased with her shocked expression. “Oh yeah, hold out what exactly?” she challenged with raised eyebrows. He knew the denial of sex would be the thing to do it for her. Already she had an insatiable sexual appetite hence here they were here six months pregnant, but pregnancy hormones only amplified that. “You really don’t wanna play those games with me Tobias, or you’ll find yourself handcuffed to bed and taken by force.” she lightheartedly fired back. “I’m quite intrigued as long as I can return the favor.” he huskily dropped an octave and whispered to her. She shivered and scoffed “You a silly little freak.” with a laugh.

“Honestly Charlie, all this is unnecessary as all I wanted was my pictures and could have been going about my business by now but someone refused to get along with the picture. Pun heavily intended.” he sighed.

“Okay I’ll bite, but what are you even doing with these pictures?”

“Well, if you must know. I take your picture or video then I pleasure myself.” he sexily drawled “then upload it online to make a virtual scrapbook.” he happily finished. “Why am I not surprised?” she chuckled as she shoved his laughing form. “Wait, you still masturabte?” she inquisitively questioned.

“Well, yeah sometimes you're in a horrifying mood and I’d rather work with what I’ve got than you ripping my head off, do you?”

“Actually no, not since I met you at least.” she truthfully noted, as her hands just didn’t do the job since Dr. Tobias Carrick waltzed into her life with his devilishly handsome face and rocked her world.

“I’m doing my job right then.” he pressed with a smirk. “Mhm, too right if you ask me.” she quipped pointing to her very round and beautiful stomach adorned with barely visible glittery stretch marks that only magnified her beauty and strength. “What’s on your mind now?” he pried while she poked at her bump in the mirror. “Me and Sienna, Aurora, and Jackie are going out to Carson Beach and I can’t decide whether to wear a two or one piece.”

“Two pieces of course so I can enjoy the fruits of my labor.” he smiled proudly.

“Four minutes hardly constitutes at “labor” she mocked with air quotes. He smacked his teeth in annoyance, “If you loved me you’d do this for me.” he pleaded. And now it was her turn to kiss her teeth, “Fine!” she huffed. “But leave my face out of it, I look icky in the mornings.” to which he eagerly disagreed and pecked her lips but not before muttering something along the lines of “stunning”.

“Alright, I’ll give you your little video but you have to do something for me.” she suggestively proposed. To which he readily agreed as he loved her ‘just been fucked’ afterglow. He then turned off the old camcorder and attempted to put it away but she fingered the loops of his jeans “Uh uh turn it back on.”

He was sure his eyes were completely bulging out of his skull and managed to mutter a “Charlie a-are you serious?” in his daze. She nodded and sunk down to her knees as she slowly tugged down his boxers and elicited a low groan from him.

In the lens of the camera she expertly handled his member with care and tenderly began to stroke him giggling at his floored expression. “You ready for me, Tobias?” she tantalizingly asked not ceasing her stroking. Receiving an eager nod and thumbs up from the camera she smirked at her success in making the talkative bastard speechless. Expertly she teased his large in girth and lengthy member with the tip of her tongue before guiding him into her mouth as she had done tons of times before sucking her mans dick like a woman starved.

“Oh god, slow down baby.” Tobias pitifully groaned while screwing his mind down as the love of his life expertly worked him. “You wanna be inside me, baby?” she whispered in a sultry tone against the head of his member cursing a pleasant shiver to rack his body. He didn’t answer but instead made a gesture behind the camera for me to turn around. He thanked the heavens above for the easy access and the fact that she was wearing one of his shirts and abandoned underwear long ago. She hissed as his large strong hand cam crashing down on her bare ass, and soothed the pleasant sting with a soft rub. “Perfect.” he murmured as he continued his caressing of her more than generous backside. “How’s the view?” she asked with a wink through the mirror.

And with a quick and brutal thrust he was inside leaving her panting mess on the cold surface of the bathroom countertop as she moaned slowly.

“Amazing.” he quickly answered before he began his unrelenting deep thrust. “Deeper” she moaned out in the air. Resting on her palms and easing away from the countertop she made eye contact with a chipper Tobias as he violently thrust into her and she had to brace herself. “Where are you going Char?” Tobias teased as she stood on her tiptoes desperately in an unsuccessful attempt of creating space between them.

“Damn I know I told him deeper, but now he's just showing out for the camera.” she thought while groaning as he hit a spot inside her making let out a loud guttural moan. He made the most out of his opportunity reaching to rub her clit. Moaning even louder he soon used one hand to grip her shoulder as he angled the camcorder downwards to catch sight of his pelvis meeting her dripping cunt. Closing her eyes for some reprieve she opened them to meet Tobias’s eyes in the mirror to find him damn near gnawing through his lip to hold back his loud groans.

Her release soon crep up on her and she moaned loudly, “Baby, I-” to which he cut her off as he sped up his tireless thrust, “Me too. Don’t wait for me.” and with that she came harder than ever and fell back on the counter, a panting mess and sweating bullets and winced as he pulled out of her. She mistakenly thought he was going to clean her only for him to zoom in the camera to get a close up of her used pussy with his milky cum dripping out of her.

Once he caught his breath he chuckled “That was amazing and it wasn’t even my birthday.” to which she rolled her eyes with a dazed expression and a small smile on her face since enjoying the after effects of their morning activities.

“Yeah yeah you better delete that.” she warned turning on the shower.

“Uh-Uh Charlie we just made a porno, I’m downloading this to my USB and keeping it in my safe.” he remarked while being transfixed at the camcorder in his hands causing her to snort with laughter.

“Whatever, if it gets leaked I better get paid for it.” she declared while leaving to her shower leaving Tobias in a cheerful fit of post orgasmic laughter.

Fin.

A/N: That was nasty and you read it so you’re nasty too.

[vateacancameos]

Chapters: 1/1 Words: 1555 Fandom: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Gideon Nav/Harrowhark Nonagesimus Characters: Harrowhark Nonagesimus, Gideon Nav Additional Tags: Autumn, Established Relationship, Foliage, Picnics, Post-Canon, Post-Alecto, Banter, sort of but not really a wedding, perfect lyctorization, lyctor? i barely know her, One Shot, Victory Tour Series: Part 4 of snapshots of autumn Summary:

Part of the snapshots of autumn series, which tells stories of ladies in love during autumn, this story can be read independently.

Harrow and Gideon have won against God after several years of hardship apart. They deserve some time alone. Harrow grumps. Gideon frolics. The end.

Story:

“Holy shit, I’ve never seen this much color in my life,” Gideon groaned, head whipping every which way as if she’d miss something if she wasn’t looking at everything at once.

Harrow rolled her eyes and flapped her arms, hoping for a breeze. It was too warm, and the sun beat on her dark hair, making her sweat in her black robes. Gideon had stripped down to a tank and trousers in the shuttle, leaving her robe in a messy pile on Harrow’s seat.

“Are you frolicking?” asked Harrow, absolutely zero percent surprised, but feeling like she needed to at least make an effort at being annoyed. Gideon once said her resting bitch face was one of the things she loved most about her, so she tried to make it at least once a day. Gideon had argued that the point of RBF was its natural state, but she’d kissed Harrow anyway, then promptly wiped her mouth and “yeched” at the paint that had stuck to her lips.

read the rest under the cut

“Why shouldn’t I frolic?” Gideon yelled, halfway across the meadow they’d landed in. “We’re the good guys that beat the bad guys. We deserve a victory tour, adoring fans, parades, music lauding our heroic deeds.”

“Then why are we in a garish field on a foreign planet by ourselves?” Harrow pulled her robes away from her neck in hopes of coaxing a breeze to cool things down. The only thing it coaxed was a whiny bug that bit her on the back. “Ugh.”

“Because you don’t like crowds or music or anything fun, oh night mistress of zero fun.”

“So you brought me to hot meadow filled with bugs, sun, and bright colors? Are leaves even meant to have that many colors? I thought they were all green.”

“We did the dank and dead church thing yesterday. My turn to pick. And it’s not hot, it’s just a little warm from the sun. Also, Camilla said the colors were fantastic here this time of year. It’s called autumn.”

“I know what autumn is, dumb ass.” Harrow crossed her arms over her chest, even though it was far too warm to have anything touching.

Gideon sighed dramatically, made a final prance, then loped over to skid to a halt in front of Harrow, who raised an eyebrow. Gideon simply grinned.

“What are we doing here?”

“Looking at pretty colors! Have ever seen red this deep? Orange this bright? Gold this glimmering?” She waved her hand at the nearby trees at the edge of the meadow.

“Yes, I saw red this deep yesterday evening when you pricked your thumb while testing your blade. I see orange this bright always when I look at your ridiculous hair, and gold this glimmering every time I look in the mirror.”

Gideon winked one her own now-black eyes, which still threw Harrow off. At least they were the familiar black of the Ninth, and not the creepy oil sheen of God’s own. Thank God (no pun intended) that Gideon shared very little physically with her birth father, apart from their brown skin. And the horrendous sense of humor, but that wasn’t physical and therefore could be ignored by tuning the woman out. Which happened less these days, as Harrow was still so grateful to once again be able to talk to Gideon face to face, no longer parted by the River or physical distance.

“Come on.” Gideon grabbed Harrow’s hand, hauled her back to the shuttle, where she rummaged around until she reappeared with her robes and a knapsack that she slung onto her back. She grabbed Harrow’s hand again and this time hauled her to a nearby stand of trees, where she threw her rumpled robes onto the shaded ground in a sort of flat manner, then pulled the two of them down on top of it.

“Nav! You’re going to ruin your robes.”

“Better mine than yours. Although, you really should take those off. You’re going to roast. And there’s no need for roasting, I already think you’re hot.”

Harrow’s glower was hot enough to start a fire, but Gideon just laughed.

“Come on! We are the champions! Take a load off. Eat some lunch. Enjoy the views!”

“The colors are making my eyes hurt.”

But the protest was half-hearted. It was hard not getting caught up in Gideon’s enthusiasm. After the past couple of years, they deserved a break from the madness, and although this was so not her scene, she had to admit it was a nice change from space and people and death. She closed her eyes to feel the thalergy of an un-flipped planet, safe from future run-ins with Resurrection Beasts. The life wriggling around her was an unfamiliar shock, even after all the time she had spent flipping thalergy to thanergy during her training. It was nice to not think about wading into the disgusting, brackish waters of the River and taking all of this away. It was nicer seeing Gideon happy and goofy and alive, even if her eyes still weirded Harrow out. A small price to pay to have the person who understood her best back by her side. Forever. Well, for myriads at least. The perks of perfect lyctorization. This terrible meadow didn’t even seem that bad when she put it in that context.

Gideon sprawled on her side and leaned on an elbow as she dug through the knapsack, materializing a few half-smooshed sandwiches, apples, two bottles of something, and a box strong enough to come out of the knapsack unscathed.

“White bread, no crusts, bland tofu and cheese for Miss Picky,” Gideon dropped the sandwich in front of Harrow’s crossed legs, “and a gorgeous everything sandwich for me.” She kissed the package before unwrapping and taking a big bite, some sort of pink sauce dripping down her chin. She grinned. “Eat! And for Me’s sake, take off the damned robes. You’ll sweat out any calories otherwise. Plus, I have to sit with your stinky ass the whole way back in the shuttle.”

Harrow pinched the bridge of her nose. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not God. You can’t curse in your own name, Griddle.”

“God, daughter of God.” Gideon shrugged. “Same same.”

“Not remotely. Thank- somebody.”

“Thank me.”

“Definitely not.”

“Please, Harrow?”

“I’m not thanking you.”

Gideon waved a dismissive hand and furrowed her brow. Harrow knew that furrow. It meant she was about to be mother henned. “Not that. I mean, please relax. Eat. Enjoy the colors. Soon enough we’ll be back on dreary Ninth. Home sweet hole-in-the-planet. You’ll be busy running the House, I’ll be … I dunno, posing for tourists to feel my amazing biceps? Re-enacting the battles I fought in? Whatever.” She looked remarkably serious for once. “I just wanted us to have a little time to ourselves, before things get crazy again.”

Despite the solemnity, Harrow felt a grin lift a corner of her mouth. “This isn’t a victory tour. This is a honeymoon, isn’t it, Griddle?”

“What? No. Not- No.” Gideon looked away, scratching the back of her neck. “Just, ya know, some … quiet time.”

“What if I want it to be?”

Gideon whipped her head back around, eyes wide. “You’d want– But it’s– We’re not married.”

It was Harrow’s turn to pretend nonchalance. She shrugged. “Well, it’s just that there aren’t too many immortal people in the universe, and you’re the only one I can stand. I’m not about to go search out another partner, just after I got you trained up.”

A suddenly shy smile played at Gideon’s ever expressive mouth. “You like Pal and Cam well enough.”

“At a distance. I’m happy sending letters and visiting on occasion. But you’ve been by my side most of our lives. It’d be weird for you to leave.” Starting to panic after showing her hand, Harrow began to backtrack. “That is, if you want to. I know you hate the Ninth. And you have friends scattered all over. I’m sure you want–”

Her mouth was stopped by another mouth, warm and soft and comforting yet somehow exciting.

“Yes.” The words were whispered against her lips before the kissing began anew. Having this, for eternity, Harrow could get used to.

They eventually fell back onto a robe-covered ground softened by leaves that crunched. Harrow looked up into the fiery canopy above them as Gideon traced soft squiggles up and down her bare arm (yes, she’d finally removed the robe). The orange really was remarkably close to Nav’s hair. She could finally see the beauty in it that Gideon had seen upon landing. She didn’t want it forever, but for now, it was … very nice.

“So,” Gideon whispered into her ear. “I just realized that as your cavalier primary, and us being basically married, I can now say that I–”

“Don’t you dare, Nav. I had to hear it from Magnus already. I do not need an encore to that terrible joke.”

Gideon cackled and kissed Gideon’s cheek. “You’re no fun.”

🍁🍂🍁

Forever perfectly preserved on Harrow’s desk was a black metal frame, the clear plex displaying three leaves—one as red as blood, another gold as coins (or eyes), and the last the same riotous orange of Gideon’s hair. When asked what they were for, Gideon always answered first: “a marriage certificate.”

[nachtaiwrites2]

“I Like That”

“I Like That.”

“I remember when you laughed when I cut my perm off and you rated me a six…

But even back then with the tears in my eyes I always knew I was the shit.”

               cause when Janelle said that, I felt that shit.

Erik x F!Reader (black of course cause...duh)

                 Ten years had passed by in a flash, but you could remember those three like no time had passed at all. Even now, at this moment in all of your 27 years of age you were still nervous. You didn’t want to pass them, still expecting the round of jokes at your expense that you suffered in school, but you knew that Chante would kill you if you didn’t grab the cheap wine that she loved so much and was expecting. You rubbed your sweating palms on your jeans, and shifted the heavy basket from one hand to the other still debating in your head whether or not to book it to another store before they could see you.

But then his eyes flashed towards you, and you knew that there was no more time to run. So you straightened up, and pretended to be deep in thought over which wine to purchase. You stood there looking at the yellow price tag that read ’15.99’ for at least 15 minutes before walking down the aisle, bracing yourself for comments from him and his crew. As you passed them, there were definitely whispers, and they made you sick but you continued on towards the end of the aisle hoping to escape your dread.

“Wait.” One of them spoke. You pretended not to hear him and continued to walk, the end of the aisle becoming all you could see.

“Aye ma, wait a minute.” He called again, his footsteps following you. “I just want to ask you something.”

Fuck, you cursed and turned around. It wasn’t him but it was Jerome with that same smirk that came before he called you some foul hurtful name. Your posture stiffened.

“I know you…don’t I?” He asked looking at you. “Did we go to school together, like college or something?”

“Middle school, High School.” Of course he would forget someone who he tormented for years.

“Right…it’s (something that sounds like your name…or it’s close to it)…”

You shift your basket again, “(Y/N).”

“Oh shit!” Jerome laughed. “It’s (y/n).”

Kevin, the tag along of the group that mostly would laugh at the jokes that his friends spewed towards you, walked towards you and Jerome while he trailed behind him slowly. “No shit? Damn girl, you used to have those coke bottle shits. You could see outer space with them thangs.” Kevin laughed making Jerome laugh as well, you laughed along with them although you were a little uncomfortable.

“I ditched a lot of things after high school.” You flashed your eyes over to him, and found him staring back at you.

“Shit. I see.” Jerome’s eyes roamed over your body, grinning appreciatively. When he finally made it back to your face, he smiled. “ So…what you here for the reunion right?”

“Yeah.” You nodded.

“We going too. We bout to get lit though at Erik’s spot though, you could come through if you want tho.” Jerome looked over at him who simply nodded.

“Nah, I just came to get this wine for Chante. We got something going on at hers. Thanks though.”

“But, you ain’t got no wine in your basket.” Kevin said.

“Damn, why you all up in my shit?” You snapped, unintentionally.

Kevin put his hands up, “Damn ma, my bad…shit.”

You took a deep breath and tried to remember that there was no need to be on the defense. You were no longer 16 and these three were no longer tormenting your life. “…Well, it was nice seeing you guys.” You said turning the opposite way from where you were going. You quickly grabbed the bottle and continue towards the self-checkout.

               You drank the blue shit straight from the bottle, mentally cursing yourself for not having the willpower to stop drinking the shit that would definitely have your head banging in the morning.

“Save some for the fish bitch.” Chante said grabbing the bottle from you.

You shot a bird at her and wiped your mouth off with the back of your hand. “It’s your fault. Sending me to the fucking store for that shit cause you don’t want to drink Hennessy. Bougie ass.”

“Bitch please. You think I planned Erik being there? That’s fate hoe. Take that up with yo maker.” She poured more of the wine into her red cup. “And anyway, I thought you were over that shit. Like I know those boys scarred you in school but like…we grown as fuck now. Fuck them niggas.”

You looked up at the ceiling; you thought you were over it too. You spent your whole college career being someone who was totally opposite from the girl that was the butt of jokes in grade school. Your adult life was the image of instagram perfection, but damn being in your hometown put you right back into that awkward girl’s body once again.

“And Erik…fuck that nigga. Fuck that ‘You and me is a secret nigga’. Fuck that, ‘give me top in the car nigga’. Fuck that, ‘I don’t know you’ nigga. Fuck him. Fuck him (y/n). You better than him. Yo new nigga is better than him. What does fucking Erik Stevens have? –

“A degree from MIT. Years in the service. Fucking dreads. A grill. Dimples.” You answered for her mentally conjuring up an image of him.

“Fuck all of that. You gonna go in this fucking Reunion and show that nigga what he missed. Cause mutherfuckin (y/fn & y/ln) is a bad fucking bitch. YOU THE FUCKING SHIT.”

Chante might have been drunk, but the bitch was right.

               You were the fucking shit.

okay so this is the first thing I’ve written and posted in years so be kind...or don’t. excuse any typos, grammar issues, plot inaccuracies. i literally don’t know if I’m gonna continue this cause I lose interest in shit soooo fast. alsooooo, don’t take my first fic being about Erik as me being a Killmonger girl, I also enjoy T’challa as well. i also like others in the marvel fandom (THOR) so expect that as well...maybe. i don’t know. i’m wishy washy like that. talk to me too. okay bye.

[ash-overthinking]

Where You’ve Been (13RW, Zach&Alex missing scene)

Fandom:

13 Reasons Why (TV show)

Characters/Pairing:

Zach Dempsey & Alex Standall (canon compliant/pre-slash)

Summary:

-"I wanna talk to Alex. Okay, look, I brought him something." -"What? 'Oh happy birthday Alex, here's a photo book of you in a coma'?" -"He told you about that?"

Sometime in the days before Alex's birthday party, Zach finds him struggling, a little book of graphic pictures in his lap.

Tags of Consequence: 

Missing scene; angst; references to canon suicide attempt and implied canon suicidality and depression; canon disabled character; pre-slash/gen.

Word Count:

2008

Read it on AO3

  Alex wasn’t entirely sure what he’d been thinking asking for the pictures. Maybe it was about trying to fill in the gaps, to see matter within the spaces of blurring and blankness. There was something about knowing his body had been put through so much shit, tests and operations and stitches and more than he could even begin to keep in his head, and totally without him, that left horror like a rock growing into his stomach and ribs. So, he wanted to know. Alex kept thinking if he learned enough, maybe he could recover the map to how his pieces were meant to fit. Maybe he could feel like he belonged here, in this body and mind and life.

  He hadn’t quite been glad Tyler took the pictures, really he didn’t care one way or the other, but- maybe he was kind of grateful?

  At least the other boy didn’t try to argue with Alex about seeing them, about what he was and wasn’t ready for. He didn’t even question or dispute when Alex asked if he could get them printed, taking Alex’s fumbled preface about screen-time and migraines at face value. Alex really fucking liked that about Tyler.

  Still. It probably wasn’t the healthiest choice?

  The pictures were in a little book now, one of those old-school photo albums with fake leather and vinyl, unlabeled and with a dozen empty pages. Alex could fill the latter of his own accord if he wanted to see his progress like Tyler had suggested, to watch the ghastly scars fade and disappear under his hair. Like a baby book, he could note the stupid little milestones he’d had to reach all over- waking up like being reborn; his first word post-coma; lifting his fucking head; taking a goddamn step. There were probably pictures of it all, but Alex would sooner burn or bury them than arrange them in some pseudo triumphant order.  

  The graphic journey back to his body imbued Alex with more heartbreak and revulsion than the pictures of him in the coma ever did. Memories he had but didn’t necessarily want, all an ode to his greatest failing.

  Most of the time he could try not to think about it. The moments of quiet devastation didn’t need talked about and there were even days he could appreciate things like second chances. If nothing else, he could distract himself with ways to be useful or at least become it. He gave himself wholly to that cause. If he was going to be here than he would damn well find a way to make the burden of his existence worth its while to all the people around him. Maybe eventually he could even believe himself that he was worth it.

  So, sure, ignorance was the opposite of bliss; but maybe there was a difference between abstract knowing and staring his own near-death in its face.

  All Alex knew was that the pictures drew him in, and in and in until he was locked inside a silence he couldn’t really breathe through, with all his senses disappearing.

  How could he do this to himself? Why couldn’t he have done it right?

  Hate surged like it always did, for this stupid fucking world with its stupid fucking people and its stupid fucking injustice and fucking him, Alex Standall, fuckup extraudinaire, at the boiling center. There were angry tears on his face and his bad hand curled around the photo album and his good hand in his hair, nails in his scalp just above the scar.

  He heard the creak of the door too late.

  “Hey- woah. Alex, what’s going on? What’s-” and Zach had cut himself off with a noise like nothing Alex had ever heard from him before as Alex’s stupid, broken grip tried to move to close the book and instead only managed to knock it from his lap so it landed, still open, inches from Zach’s feet.

  Frustration and humiliation reared, and Alex didn’t mean to yell; but he did anyway, curses exploding from that ugly place inside his chest.

  Zach didn’t respond, and the vitriol died about as quickly as it had come, even if the tears did not, still randomly tracking down his cheeks while he fought to focus on his friend. There would be time to dwell on all the ways he had ruined all the best things in his life later. For now, there was Zach.

  How one guy could look both so steady and so shaken, Alex would never know.

  “Alex, where the hell did you get this?” Zach asked finally.

  The quiet anger in his voice promptly put Alex right back on the defensive.

  “That’s not any any of your fucking business,” he heard himself snarl, the high pitch of a whine right beneath the words. Pathetic.

  Alex thought, barely there, that lately he made Hannah sound downright chill and self assured, and the inherent snipe at his once best friend brought him right back to earth, his stomach cramping and churning.

  How was it that someone like him had beaten the odds to live so many times in the last five months while someone like Hannah-

  No. He couldn’t keep going there.

  “Where the hell did you get these?” Zach asked roughly.

  Alex sighed and adjusted himself to sit back against his pillows, looking at his friend directly.

  “Can we not do this right now dude?”

  “Uh, no. We can’t… not do this right now. Dude.”

  Alex stared at him for a beat before succumbing to a tired snort of laughter. Zach huffed a little, the hint of a smile at the corner of one lip, but then it all faded away again. He bent to pick up the book with Alex watching carefully, his heart in his throat.

  Zach leafed through a few pages, then closed it with a sharp exhale. Alex thought he saw a shiver go through his friend and dropped his eyes to his sweatpants, guilt ebbing back to him, the rush of cold into his veins like saline through an IV.

  Zach paced for a minute then dropped restlessly onto the edge of Alex’s bed.

  “Who the fuck-,” he paused, took a breath, started again. “How did you get these?”

  “...I can’t tell you.”

  Zach turned to face him and Alex met his eyes. He could feel his hand tremor on his leg, all his muscles reacting to the continued distress. His body was always betraying him.

  “You really fucking can. Is this related to that target bullshit?”

  “No,” Alex reassured him, calming a little more with the opportunity to tell a helpful truth. “I swear.”

  “Yeah? How can you do that if you can’t tell me?”

  Alex groaned and sagged back against his bed but kept his eyes sideways on Zach.

  “If I do, you’ve got to be chill about it.”

  “Nah. Can’t promise that,” Zach retorted.

  Alex glared and Zach looked right back, determined, unaffected.

  “Okay, well, you have to promise you won’t go after the person.”

  Zach opened his mouth, very clearly to object, so Alex continued right along.

  “Seriously. I’m a big boy, Dempsey. I asked for the pictures. It’s my own fault.”

  Zach’s face twisted and smoothed back.

  “It was fucking Tyler, right?”

  Alex knew Zach well enough by now, if only just, to recognize the curl of his lip and tightening of his jaw. The darkness of his eyes. There was disgust, anger, frustration- and fear.

  The last softened Alex’s resolve.

  “He didn’t mean anything by it. I asked to see after he told me about taking them, man. I asked to see them, and I asked him to print them.”

  Zach nodded, but he was clearly unmoved.

  “I knew that creep was coming to the hospital so often for a reason. He’s not even your friend, Alex.”

  “He kind of is.”

  Zach snorted derisively and stood again, this time just standing over Alex in a way that made Alex want to roll his eyes, and also just stare up at him for awhile because holy shit, who gave him the right to look that much like a fucking tree?  

  “Alex, that creep is not your friend. A friend doesn’t take pictures of you when you’re inches from death. Especially without permission. And then, he just shows you? Gives you an album of prints?”

  “I asked to see them,” Alex protested again, his voice starting to crack. “I asked for the prints.”

  “And he gave them to you, man,” Zach said loudly. “The fact that he fucking took them in the first place…”

  “Photography is just what Tyler does,” Alex rationalized back to him, but it sounded dumb and half-hearted now.

  Zach stared at him, like he could hear in the words how Alex’s energy had fallen away, like he could see the whole heap of self-flagellation and emptiness Alex kept shoving back and throwing a blanket over as if to hide and disguise its shape. Alex wondered dimly how he could in turn almost see these things register with Zach, cut into him, and then disappear behind the wall he kept in his own mind.

  “Man, screw that. It’s fucked up. These first ones, Alex? They’re from just a few days after. You were still bleeding. We still had no idea if you were going to die. You had machines helping you breathe. Even if you didn’t fucking die, the doctors kept saying that you might never wake up.”

  “I know,” Alex told him lowly, eyes burning.

  Zach shot him a wounded look then shook his head and turned away.

  “And you’re still doing this to yourself? Alex, who does this help?”

  “I don’t know, me?” tossed out. Nothing words. Empty sarcasm.

  Zach’s scoff was like a weight on his chest. Alex wanted to scream, but he was so fucking drained already.

  “Nobody wants to talk really. And nobody wants to tell me things. It’s like I’m still barely a person to everyone.”

  Zach looked back at him, long and hard, and Alex’s good shoulder pulled up automatically, as though the defensive half-shrug could temper his words.

  “Alex…” Zach blew out a hard breath. “You’re a person, okay?”

  “I know.”

  “Did looking at the pictures help?”

  “I don't know,” Alex muttered. “Maybe.”

  “It didn’t look like it,” Zach countered, his voice more gentle now.

  “Yeah, well. That’s my own shit.”

  “Right,” Zach said, “Sure.” But when Alex looked at him, his jaw was tight and working. “Maybe you want to keep your distance from him, though?”

  Alex sighed.

  “I’m not ditching Tyler, Zach. He was there for me a lot, too. Anyways, it’s not like we see each other that much. He’s busy a lot with that guy, Cyrus or whatever. And between school and PT and Jess and you and my five thousand other appointments…”

  Zach smiled.

  “We do keep you pretty busy. Speaking of which, I’m totally in for your birthday party.”

  “Oh yeah? Those fuckheads you hang around are cool with that?”

  Zach ignored the jibe and laid down flat on his back across Alex’s bed, the weight of his head on Alex’s fucked up knee heavy and warm and welcome.

  “Don’t keep looking for things that will hurt you, okay?”

  “I’m not,” Alex tried to say, but he wasn’t sure either of them could believe it.

  “I mean it. You’re doing really great. You don’t want to screw over your progress for this shit that’s happening. Even if you think you do, the rest of us don’t, man. Just… take care of yourself.”

  “I would if I could. Broken dick, remember?”

   Zach laughed loudly.

  “Fuck you, Standall. You know what I meant.”

  “You know, that’s a good point,” Alex told him. “If I’m the one getting fucked, that’s actually still pretty doable.”

  Zach shook his head, but he was grinning.

  “You know, they said personality changes were to be expected after, but listen to you now. Same old Alex. Almost, anyway.”

  “I guess,” Alex agreed, the cold in his chest again. “Almost.”

[historioddity]

Fandoms:      

幽☆遊☆白書 | YuYu Hakusho: Ghost Files

Rated: T; no archive warnings apply

Characters: Hiei, Yukina, Kurama, Kazuma Kuwabara, Yusuke Urameshi

Notable Tags: Modern, no demons AU, inspired by Facebook, possibly reads like crack, Yukina is a good sister, Hiei and Yukina have an actual sibling relationship, I apparently can’t write something where someone doesn’t swear

Summary: “My brother does not know I’m doing this and would walk right of here and not talk to me for a year if he did.”

Questionable decisions aside, Yukina really only wants to help her brother (and to stop the endless moaning of the last two months). She's a good sister, she swears. She's just not sure if she's out to get her brother a date, chew Kurama out, or embarrass Hiei to death.

--

I was fixing up some tags and apparently I never posted this here? Its nearly a year old now, but I’ll be damned if its not here.

Can be read here or on Ao3!

She hesitates over the post button on her phone, but eventually hits it anyways. She stares as Facebook uploads the pictures of the two piece swim suit and her own sell ad, waffling between leaving it up or deleting it as soon as the post was live. Though Botan had suggested it, Yukina wasn’t so sure of the idea. The teal haired young woman flops down on her couch with a swirl of her blue stripped skirt.

 The two piece swimsuit was certainly a color she likes (a few varying shades of blue she thought had a fantastic ocean look to it), but she had never meant to buy it. It was smaller than she was comfortable with, but she hadn’t been able to get it back on the rack after determining that.

 (The truth of the matter was she, Keiko, and Botan didn’t know what exact set of whirlwind events had caused them all to walk out with items they hadn’t intended to buy – what they did know was they’d left to police coming in and the store had been on the news that night for both fire damage and busted windows. They hadn’t been back.)

 But facts are that she has the swimsuit, she’d paid for it, and the receipt had been long gone by the time Yukina had worked up the nerve to return the item. And Shizuru had already helped her track down a more appealing swimsuit just a couple days later in time for the beach trip, so it wasn’t as if going back to the shop for store credit or exchange had been appealing either.

 So here she is, attempting to sell the small two piece blue swimsuit on a Facebook buying and selling page – the one she thought Botan had suggested but now she isn’t quite so sure.

 “I should have just donated it…..” she mumbles into a throw pillow after stuffing her phone between the cushions, unable to look at it any longer. It wasn’t as if the suit had ever been worn, somewhere would have taken it, right? Her phone buzzes once but she ignores it. It buzzes a second time, but she misses it entirely as her front door is slammed open.

 If she was a betting woman, she would have place her money on their father being where her brother had gotten this particular set of melodramatics from.

 Yukina can hear him muttering and cursing as he fights to kick off his shoes in her entry way. She gets no greeting as he shuffles across her apartment to flop half over the back of her couch with a groan and a whine. Despite her suggestions, she can see Hiei had opted to roll up his shirt sleeves but at least he had attempted to do so nicely. She digs her phone back up from the couch cushions and snaps a picture of the spectacular pout on his face. The shutter noise her phone insists on making is enough to force him out of his self-imposed pity party to stick his tongue out at her. Hiei hauls himself off the back of the couch with another groan and he begins to shuffle back towards her bedroom.

 “Oh I’m sure Kazuma couldn’t have been that bad!” Yukina calls behind him, busy moving the photo around in her phone files to group it with all the rest of her brother’s pictures that the world is certainly not ready to see. The world would not survive knowing how much of a dork he could be when left with the right people (which is basically just her – being a twin has perks. She can see right through his facades so Hiei doesn’t really try with her).

 When she doesn’t get a retort about her boyfriend, she knows it was something else. She ignores the two notifications for her Facebook post in favor of checking on her twin.

 “Oh no…” She’s so glad that a blanket burrito in the corner of the bed had become the new hiding place. (Once upon a time it had been a weird fort of a blanket and four pillows under a bed where she was only other one who could squeeze in there to reach him – they had both grown out of that embarrassingly late.)

 “Are you telling me he managed to ignore you again?” Yukina would have been embarrassed to admit it came out as a shriek if wasn’t for the whine that left the blankets taking up the corner of her bed. Her brother is miserable.

 “But how?” The teal haired woman moves to her closet even as she asks the question. “And get out of that blanket – those are the only nice clothes you have!” She begins to look around for something of Hiei’s that had been left behind on a previous night of frustration and planning. She has found a shirt by the time Hiei had gotten his head out of the blanket burrito she was sure he had almost literally rolled himself into. She tosses the dark shirt on to his newly uncovered head and digs around for literally anything else that can fit him.

 “I don’t know!” Hiei is making an embarrassing habit of whining his way through these almost daily conversations. Turning back with a pair of sweatpants she is almost certain are Hiei’s (she doesn’t own much grey), Yukina catches sight of his miserable expression. Hiei had disentangled enough from the blankets to remove the t-shirt she had thrown him but is idly fidgeting with the buttons on his dress shirt with a mournful expression rather than saving the only button down he owns from wrinkly extinction.

 “I was serious, change clothes before we have to replace half of the only suit you own.” Yukina is kind enough to actually hand him the sweatpants this time. But looking at his face causes her to pause. She can count the number of times Hiei has cried on one hand, but the frustration has clearly moved to a whole new level because, try as he might, he has to actually bite his lip and keep his glossy eyes impossibly wide to keep it all contained.

 Yukina sits on her bed with a sigh. She has a few choice words for the object of her brother’s affections if he’s this close to frustration tears.

 “I have never seen you this infatuated with someone,” she says instead. Hiei snorts, but its watery. He finally moves to actually take off his blue button down and pull the burgundy t-shirt over his head.

 “Me neither,” he mutters in annoyance when his head pops back out. Yukina’s phone buzzes again in her hands. She busies herself with it to let her brother change. Among the replies is an interested woman who wants to know the size of the suit – Yukina double checks and sure enough she did leave the information in the ad. She gives a reply anyways. Hiei has wriggled from his blanket prison, changed to the sweatpants, and carefully laid out his dress pants in the time it takes for her to answer. Yukina watches him for a moment.

 “Wouldn’t it be easier to ask him on a date instead of attempting to seduce him – or whatever you seem to be aiming for?” she gives her brother a pointed look, “He sees you half naked three times a week already.” Hiei’s face goes vaguely scarlet and in one fluid movement he moves the blanket back over himself.

 “I’m not seducing him,” she can hear him mumble.

 “Not successfully.” He lifts the blanket enough to sort of pout-glare at her. Yukina can’t help giggling. She snaps another photo. It’s a blurred mess of the blanket coming back up to hide Hiei from any more of her incriminating shots.

 “But seriously, Hiei,” she starts, deleting her unsuccessful picture, “just ask Kurama out on a date. Kazuma couldn’t speak more highly of him; he’s not going to react badly. It has to be more productive than trying every outfit combination you have in your closet.”

 (Literally every combination – his most flattering shirts, his tightest pants; from the colors that bring out his eyes to Yukina’s best attempts to bring out a groomed and sophisticated look on a man that some days looked like he never brushed his hair. Anything to convey to Kurama that, while short, Hiei was strong, capable, and hopelessly wanting. It would have been embarrassing if she hadn’t put him through the same ordeal the day before her first date with Kazuma. They had always played petty revenge tit for tat after all.)

 Hiei mumbles something under the blanket. She gives him a moment before prodding.

 “Loud enough for people to hear?” She grimaces, realizing she sounds like their mother. Her brother seems to chuckle for a moment. She clears her throat.

 “Please?” She expects exaggerated melodramatics – partially because her brother has chosen that route for dealing with the extended frustration but also because she just mom’d him by accident. Instead, he speaks just loudly enough for her to hear him.

 “I did…” She pulls the blanket back enough to see his face – cherry red from embarrassment but still absolutely miserable. There are so many things she wants to say, to ask, but Yukina bites her tongue instead and waits for him. Lifelong history says it’s the better choice for dealing with her brother anyways.

 Finally he rubs at his face with a sigh.

 “A couple months ago I tried to ask him to that botanical garden because I know he loves plants and there was no way he’d already be going with Yusuke or Kuwabara. Maybe someone else, but the season was just starting, Yukina, so I didn’t think it would be a big chance.” Yukina nods along encouragingly. Gardening is not her brother’s first choice of outdoor activity, he’d clearly thought more about Kurama in the location choice than himself.

 “I knew exactly what was going to be in bloom, what other plants would be there – they were going to have an exhibit of tropical plants in the special greenhouse even – I checked for restaurants nearby so maybe we could get food if he was actually willing to spend more time with me after I floundered the whole god damn morning away in a botanical garden of all places and –,” Hiei lets go a great big sigh. “And I went to meet up with him and Yusuke and Kuwabara were there and we’d apparently ‘changed our minds’ and were going to the amusement park a train ride away.” He lifts his hands from his face.

 “I don’t know what the hell I did, Yukina,” the confusion is evident on his face. “I asked him on a date. Somehow it became a group outing and nobody else thought it was weird….” He looks at her and it’s a face she’s seen so many times in their childhood – absolute confusion. Her phone buzzes annoyingly in her hands and without hesitation she stuffs it under one of her pillows and motions for her brother to move over. It’s only after they are securely hidden under her fuzzy blanket that she says anything.

 “You are just so unlucky with people…. How does that even happen?” Well, she knows one way it happens, but it’s not one she would have expected out of Kazuma’s friends. Her brother groans and stuffs his face into her shoulder. It’s a common occurrence for her brother to have a social miscommunication with another person but this probably took the cake in the weird department. (And normally it was because he was something of a sarcastic asshole.)

 “Well, I know you’re perfectly capable of asking people do things with you without inviting other people into it, so even if you didn’t call it a date there’s still no reason for it to have become that.” She begins to card her fingers through his dark hair. She hums.

 “I could have a word with Kazuma….” Hiei groans into her shoulder again. “I know that’s not the answer you want, but he’d probably set up a fix-it date if I asked….” She feels her twin shake his head.

 “I don’t want a ‘fix-it’ date – especially one set up by Kuwabara,” Hiei speaks without lifting his head. Then he sighs heavily. “I don’t know what I want. All I’ve figured out is Kurama is fucking blind and Yusuke can’t run out of jokes.”

 (This part she knows, because Kazuma tells her the better ones – half the time she can’t tell if Yusuke is trying to flatter or embarrass Hiei. She even bets that one of the many buzzes from her phone since her brother arrived is whatever decent “joke” Yusuke made that day about the dress clothes.)

 Yukina continues to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. It’s clear that Hiei had decided against asking for a second (replacement?) date until he could gauge interest but the plan has led to nothing but moping. Her twin is, normally, perfectly capable of fixing things himself (for better or worse, though often it seems to be worse) so she decides against offering more suggestions until this moping spell is over. Probably whenever he gets hungry or her own stomach rumbles loud enough for him to notice. Additionally, it’s stuffy under the blanket but she doubts he, the walking space heater he is, will notice before his stomach kicks in instead. In a way, she’s perfectly content to sit there with him – stuffy as it is – especially now that she feels caught up on entire story.

 However, it’s the resulting silence that lets her know that her phone is still happily pulling in notifications, causing it to vibrate under the pillows. She ignores it and settles down to her brother’s pillow as long as he decides he wants one. It’s nice – they don’t get to do this much anymore. A buzz here or there should be easy enough to ignore, Yukina decides.

 She dozes off at some point, waking only when there is a sudden loss of heat. Bleary red eyes finally focus on her brother who is pulling her phone from under her pillows. Hiei lays back down and pulls the blanket back around them, looking no more awake than Yukina feels. Finally, he hands her the phone.

 “It won’t stop buzzing,” he complains before curling back up at her side. Yukina pops up her screen and enters her passcode. She’s promptly greeted by a dozen Facebook notifications, two texts from Kazuma over LINE (one she notes is a sticker and she wonders what funny cat she’ll be greeted with today) and oddly enough several Facebook messages from a new contact. It’s clearly the messages that had woken her brother as their time stamps are the newest.

 Their content however causes her to make a high, squeaky noise in the back of her throat and her twin is immediately awake and grabbing for her phone. Hiei makes a noise of disgust as he reads down the line.

 “Ew, creepy fuck,” Hiei pulls a face. Without asking, he immediately blocks the sender.

“Hey!” she grouses at him more to reestablish that it’s her phone and account than over any actual objection over blocking the man.

 “Oh come on,” Hiei sneers at the screen, still going through the messages. “First off, who’s bright idea was it to have you list that swimsuit on Facebook? Second, who the hell asks for pictures, especially like that? Asking for a model doesn’t exactly hide any intent, idiot.” Hiei scoffs the last bit under his breath.

 (Yukina decides against answering the first question for Botan’s safety.)

 “You already answered the second question,” she reminds him. “I thought I had the settings so I couldn’t get random messages….” Hiei is already looking through her privacy settings for just that. She snatches her phone back before he can go into any kind of overprotective mode. The teal haired woman gives Hiei a hard look she hopes will keep him from her phone in the future, makes mental note to change up her passcode, and sets about answering the other Facebook notifications – which thankfully do not include anyone else being creepy. Hiei sticks his tongue out at her and goes to dig his own phone out of his dress pants.

 She’s in the middle of answering Kazuma’s messages, giggling over the dark cat rocking out on a guitar her boyfriend had found to express his excitement over a new Megallica CD, when her twin speaks up again.

 “You know,” he drawls without looking up from his phone, “We could fuck with him.” Yukina eyes her brother warily. Hiei puts his phone down and rests his head in his hands with a grin that never leads to anything good. “He said he wanted a model, he didn’t say it had to be you.”

 (Someday Yukina will learn to turn down her brother’s suggestions – today is not that day.)

 --

 Yukina had sent her brother home before the trains stopped operating – Hiei had gotten into a far better mood after their warning prank to her creepy message guy. A decent dinner had put him in even better spirits and she had even weedled a promise to reassess the Kurama situation with a clearer head the next day. She had been sure it was bright, promising chance to end all his moping.

 Yusuke had apparently destroyed it with a single group LINE message for coffee and some extra workouts. Kazuma had promptly invited her along to the café to give them a chance to see each other before he was off for another day of training for whatever martial arts tournament Yusuke had dragged the four of them into this time. Hiei didn’t even send her a flurry of messages for advice so she arrived to the coffee shop feeling optimistic.

 In retrospect, no messages from her brother should have been a warning.

 “Did you even look in a mirror before you left?” Yukina asks as she digs out a hairbrush from her purse. She hopes her tone conveys the worry she has over him instead of sounding like she cares more about his appearance in public. Most of his wardrobe can mix and match and she always has a ready hair brush to wrangle her own hair back into its ponytail, so there’s little that can truly go wrong. But today he looks like he rolled out of bed, fell into his closet, and walked out the door. Hiei takes the brush from her and pulls it through his hair without an argument.

 “What happened?” Yukina touches his elbow, worrying about his sudden disheartened look. Hiei hands her his phone along with the hair brush. He unlocks the pattern for her and she’s greeted to a LINE message screen – one between her brother and Kurama. The last two messages are from the red head. One is a happy fox sticker. The other reads “You’re a good friend Hiei.”

 (Both she realizes are from late last night – before Yusuke had sent the morning message calling the group together for coffee, for extra training. Before the rest day had been cancelled forcing him into awkward close quarters with Kurama.)

 “Got my answer, that’s all,” her twin finally says. Yukina lets him take his phone back. Hiei shrugs and gestures to the coffee shop, where the others are waiting.

“I’m fine, we should go in.”

 She watches as her brother plasters his usual façade into place and then holds the door open for her. She squeezes his hand before she enters.

 “Yukina!” Kazuma greets her with his usual enthusiasm and bright smile. Yusuke’s on the phone in line and he gives her a quick wave as she and her brother move towards them.

 “Oh be quiet, you’re damn loud,” Hiei grouses with half his usual venom at her boyfriend. It throws both men in line off for a moment, but then Kazuma answers with his usual retort and before they even manage to stand beside their friends, Hiei’s attitude is back on point much to the disappointment of the baristas (who, Yukina is positive, are rather tired of dealing with her brother and boyfriend). Yukina spots Kurama at a booth, already sitting with his own drink. The red head shakes his head at the scene and then gives her a smile and wave in greeting.

 She doesn’t realize she’s staring until Hiei jostles her to answer Kazuma. Her twin eyes her with concern so she gives him a small smile before focusing on her taller boyfriend.

 “You okay?” Kazuma asks her. All three of them are watching her and she’s sure Kurama is too.

 “I’m fine! I was trying to remember if I got all my papers sorted the other day at work and didn’t realize I was staring off.” It’s a simple lie and it rolls of her tongue easily. Working at a bird sanctuary, where no one in the group but her brother had a full idea of what she does, comes in handy at times. (Even handier is that her brother would not call her on her lie – certainly not today.)

 “I’m sure you did!” Kazuma says with confidence and it makes Yukina smile. He knows she can worry about work a little too much sometimes and his reassurances are often quite welcome – today they are especially welcome if they bolster her fib. “What would you like today? I can buy!”

 She’s momentarily startled, because as much as Kazuma would love to pay for everything on their outings and meet ups, normally they split the bills – especially something as simple as coffee. Yukina wonders if she looks as off as her brother for some reason. She sees Kurama move out of the corner of her eye and makes a split second decision.

 “That would be great Kazuma, thank you!” Hiei gives her another look, but gets taken away by Yusuke to move up in line. She can hear the taller man working conspiratorially with Hiei to find out Kurama’s mystery drink order even as she gives her own to Kazuma.

 (He looks so happy to buy her coffee she almost wonders if she should let him do it more often. Or maybe he just doesn’t want to get dragged into Yusuke’s never ending quest to figure out Kurama’s order again.)

 She lets Kazuma move up the line to order and pulls out her phone. As she walks to sit with Kurama at the booth, she unhesitatingly sends three of the photos from the prank the night before. She watches Kurama check his buzzing phone and nearly spit out his drink as she sits down.

 (After last night, she now knows her brother could probably pull off a speedo if he wanted to. It’s more than she ever wanted to know, but it’s true. Apparently Kurama is more appreciative than she is of this information. Or so she wants to believe with the red that’s come to his face.)

 Kurama coughs a little before he manages to say anything to her. Yukina fixes the wrinkles in her long, dark skirt and simply fixes Kurama with a far too innocent look, phone back in her hand.

 “Yu-yukina what-?” She quickly supplements the pictures of her brother in the skimpy two piece suit with one of him making faces at her through a window. Then another of one of the many outfits she had helped him pick out. One of him in the full suit before they both remembered that as much as Kurama clearly enjoyed dressing nicely (at least, sometimes, his jacket is bright orange today), he would stand out way too much. Another of her brother doing the splits, a random ability of his she’s envied since childhood and she knows he doesn’t show off. Yukina tops it off with a short video clip of her brother dancing to the radio in her apartment – one she swore to him she deleted. She celebrates a victory that Kurama has his phone set to stay lit far longer than any of the rest.

 Kurama’s face has gotten redder and redder with every picture and he grips his drink cup tightly at the still for the video – her brother half way through some kind of dance move in his boxers and a too big t-shirt he’d never leave the house in.

 “Yukina,” he says in a strangled, embarrassed tone.

 “My brother does not know I’m doing this and would walk right of here and not talk to me for a year if he did.”

 “Then why are you…?” Yukina almost regrets her rash decision with how confused Kurama looks. Yukina looks at her phone and sends the picture of her brother’s pouting face from the night before. She stares the red head down as his phone buzzes and simply waits. If there’s a weak point to Kurama, it’s that his curiosity is often too strong – he doesn’t manage to leave the text alone. He looks at the picture and then back at her, still trying to catch up.

 “Him, last night, after he spent a whole bunch of time with me picking an outfit and got to listen to Yusuke crack jokes instead of getting any kind of compliment from you.” She starts to send more pictures of more outfits – outfits she knows Kurama will recognize if he eyes work at all.

 “The same thing that’s been happening for, like, two months now.” She sends him pictures of almost every outfit they ever considered – some are even from Hiei himself, taken in a mirror to get her opinion. She doesn’t look at Kurama until his phone stops vibrating in his hands.

 When Yukina looks back up, it’s to Kurama’s still confused face. She starts to get angry at that when it hits her. She is angry on her brother’s behalf, of this she is certain. But she has no idea what she’s trying to accomplish by doing this. In fact, the only thing she knows she has accomplished is sending personal photos of her brother to a man who’s only interested in a friendship and possibly shaking the trust between two people about to partake in some kind of crazy fighting tournament together. Not talking to her for a year? Yukina will be lucky if her brother doesn’t die of embarrassment. She flushes and tries to find something to say. (And they say her brother is the one who rushes through things…)

 She looks down at her phone. There’s a preview for a picture of her brother, double peace signs and his tongue stuck out in the doorway of his apartment – probably the day he’d moved in and moved from her previous phone. She sends it and Kurama checks it despite himself.

 “I know he can be a good friend, Kurama. But couldn’t you have said that when he asked you out?” It’s all she can think to say. It’s probably all she actually wants to know. Just so she can pick her brother back up and dust him off – be whatever support he’ll accept.

 Understanding blooms across Kurama’s face.

 “The garden, I-”

 “Yes the garden, the date you said yes to!”

 “No, Yukina, you don’t understand, we-” Yukina cuts him off again.

 “Of course I don’t understand!” She sets her phone down roughly and it makes a louder noise than expected. She pushes on anyways, feeling her anger flare on Hiei’s behalf again. “I don’t know why you couldn’t have just turned him down, or tried to change it then if you didn’t want to go on date with him. Why would you change it without telling him? Why would you do that?”

 “Yukina, it’s not like that!”

 “What else can it be?!” She throws her hands in the air, swept up in her own confusion and the miserable look on her brother’s face from the night before.

 “A lot else!” Kurama says indignantly.

 “Oh yea, then prove it to me!” Her challenge is louder than she meant it to be but she doesn’t back down from the look she’s pinned Kurama with.

 “I-”

 “Oh come on!” Yusuke groans loudly from the registers, failing again to drag Kurama’s usual order from the barista. The sudden interruption causes both of them to jump and pause their arguing. The couple of occupied tables nearby are not so discretely looking at them, eavesdropping. But to their luck, Hiei and Kazuma look to be too wrapped up in Yusuke’s pleading to notice the heated conversation.

 Kurama’s face goes red again and he sinks down a little in the booth. Yukina is sorely tempted to follow him.

 (People are sorely wrong to think she doesn’t have a temper to rival her brother’s – but her fuse is much longer in the end. A healthy dose of embarrassment also drives her off far easier than Hiei. She hadn’t meant to get so loud!)

 The red head across the table groans and rubs at his face. Yukina watches him stare at his phone for a moment and then swiftly unlock it, open his conversation with Hiei on LINE, and push the phone for her to look at. She doesn’t want to. She is still angry with him and the entire situation – even if she’s now acutely aware of their onlookers – what good will it do to see the conversation from his side?

 Kurama bites his lip.

 “Please?”

 It’s only knowing she can’t get any answers from just looking at him angrily that gets her to pick up Kurama’s phone. She runs down the conversation without really reading it – a few stickers, Hiei answering some question the red head had sent him, the message that had put such a damper on her brother’s hopes. There’s nothing after that message, no text that didn’t send that would have made a better ending for Hiei. Yukina almost passes it back to Kurama to demand an actual explanation, when she realizes that something is sitting in the message box, waiting to be sent.

 ‘Hey, so, would you like to get dinner with me sometime?’ The text ends with one of LINE’s many emojis for the word ‘date’ – Yukina knows most of them from Kazuma’s texts. There’s no ambiguity in the little image. She looks back up to Kurama who is idly playing with his drink cup waiting for her response.

 He catches her eye and flushes heavily. Sinking into his seat again he begins to mumble to her.

 “I have been trying to ask him that since the amusement park date went so badly. I swear I type it at the end of every conversation but then I can never hit send. I never even shut my phone down last night – it’s been sitting there, mocking me since midnight”

 “Then…why…?” Yukina passes the phone back to him. Kurama shrugs, refusing to meet her eyes.

 “…I got home after Hiei asked me to garden and realized it was where I was taking my mother for her birthday literally the day before the date. I’d been so surprised I had completely forgotten about it. I couldn’t cancel on my mother, we’d been talking about it for months and flowers are a passion I got from her. But I didn’t want to call your brother up and look like I’d just been unable to turn him down in person.”

 Yukina checks on the rest of the group at the counter before she responds.

 “Then how did you end up at an amusement park.” If it’s possible, Yukina is almost positive Kurama looks even more embarrassed.

 “I may have asked Yusuke for help.”

 (It takes a lot of willpower for Yukina not to smack her face into the table.)

 “Why in the world-”

 “I had four places,” Kurama cuts her off in a rush, “and Kuwabara was at classes so I called Yusuke and between the two of us I got down to the amusement park. It would be open, the timing was good, it wasn’t too far away…. I should have called him then, I know I should have.” Finally the red head makes eye contact with her. He grimaces before he admits, “I chickened out, ok?”

 “Why did Yusuke and Kazuma come?”

 “That….was not actually planned.” If it’s possible, the red head looks even more embarrassed. “Kuwabara came in when Yusuke was trying to get me to call Hiei and somehow we got the grand idea to pretend Yusuke had won tickets and was using them as a group surprise. We knew Hiei hadn’t mentioned the date to anyone so we were just going to use that to lure him there and then Yusuke and Kuwabara were to get accidentally ‘separated’ from us and….. Look, it was a terrible plan, I was too nervous and completely misjudged it,” he haphazardly tries to defend the final thought process.

 “Can any of you handle social situations?” she blurts out. Kurama chuckles uncomfortably.

 “I’m almost positive it’s why the four of us work so well together. We run on the same wavelength.”

 “But you’re usually so good at this…”

 “Too much practice and a level head. Neither of which I had that day, believe me.” Kurama sips his drink awkwardly. Yukina looks him up and down.

 “So, you do want to go on a date with Hiei, right?” Kurama swallows roughly.

 “Yes, but I keep putting my foot in my mouth.” The red head looks over to Hiei, waiting for his drink to be called. Yusuke is going down the list of drinks to him, though for what reason they can’t tell. Hiei doesn’t look to be quite as into it as when Yukina had left him with the other two to order. Finally, Kurama turns back to her.

 “You think there’s any chance after what I did last night?”

 (Yukina wants to scream yes, to tell Kurama just how badly her brother had been pining. She wants to point out that they’re both morons who can’t properly talk to each other but she’s almost positive it’s just that both of them are overthinking everything. She wants to march her brother over there right that moment and personally secure the date herself. They’re perfect for each other, Yukina just knows it.)

 Before she can say anything, the barista rattle off the names of their companions and Kazuma bounces over with her latte and his coffee. Yusuke and Hiei are not far behind. Reluctantly, they let the conversation go as everyone maneuvers into the booth.

 Yukina stands and insists on Kazuma sitting all the way in and Hiei forces Yusuke to sit by Kurama by dawdling on his way over. He grabs a chair from an empty table and sits at the end of the table. They aren’t busy enough for it to be a bother, yet Yukina notices that all three of their companions give him an odd look for it anyways. Kurama slumps a little after its clear this will be the arrangement and begins to fiddle with his drink cup again. Hiei is staring at his own drink and notices nothing. Yusuke tries to move things forward by loudly, almost too loudly, trying to pry Kurama’s drink order out of him. Kazuma groans, trying to figure out why he’s so obsessed. The atmosphere at their table is awkward, but they press on.

 (It occurs to her that Yusuke, and perhaps Kazuma as well, has been attempting to play wingman since they had caused the first date to go belly up. They don’t seem to know what they are doing.)

 Fifteen minutes later, when Yusuke and Kazuma have started a heated argument over training and what qualifies as too much and her brother has gone back to the counter to get something to eat (he skipped breakfast, which Yukina has to admit is probably the most usual part of the entire morning), the teal haired woman takes a chance. With half the table distracted, her brother waiting at the counter, and Kurama silently watching on, she knows she probably won’t get another chance before they leave to head to the local gym.

 She texts Kurama under the table.

 ‘I have a date plan, do you want it?’ Yukina watches Kurama grab his vibrating phone and check it lazily – there hasn’t been much enthusiasm from that corner of the table since the rest had sat down. He blinks at the message and then slowly lowers the phone so the other two can’t look over and read his screen.

 Kurama’s reply is probably the most enthusiastic yes fox sticker LINE has. Green eyes flicker to hers and she smiles before looking back down to her phone.

 ‘Take him to the aquarium.’ Kurama only sends a question mark back.

 ‘Take him to the aquarium, he’ll love it because we haven’t gone in forever. YOU HAVE TO TELL HIM IT’S A DATE. Don’t you dare not tell him it’s a date, Kurama, I will know. It’ll make him nervous but you two can’t afford anymore miscommunication. Now this isn’t going to be the nervous you know, trust me. Be polite when he spouts forty minutes of stingray facts because he thinks the date is bombing. Take him to lunch/dinner because you know he’ll skip breakfast at the very least. He likes you, so please, don’t chicken out this time.’ She sends and then pauses.

 ‘Also I’m serious; I really hope you don’t hate stingrays.’ She knows she should leave it at that, but can’t help adding on again.

 ‘Be glad they don’t have the space for manta rays.’ Yukina flashes him a quick smile. Kurama mouths a thank you just as Hiei comes back from the counter with a breakfast sandwich.

 --

 Her apartment door swings open unexpectedly just as she finalizes the sale of the swimsuit. Yukina listens to her brother once again haphazardly kick off his shoes in her entry way before he shuffles further into her apartment.

 “The suit sold,” she announces to him once the message is marked as sent and read. However, she doesn’t get an answer and Hiei doesn’t come to the couch. She can hear him bouncing on his heels in his socks from the doorway. She’s already begun composing the scolding of Kurama’s life in her head before she turns around.

 Instead she gives her brother a long once over, raises her phone, and snaps a picture.

 (She assumes by the sheer size of the stuffed stingray in her brother’s arms that the date went very, very well.)

[catlady1986]

THE BEST SMELL IN THE WORLD IS THAT OF THE ONE YOU LOVE.

Chapters: 4/9 Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/? Characters: Gladiolus Amicitia,  Noctis Lucis Caelum, Prompto Argentum, Ignis Scientia, background characters, others to appear later Additional Tags: ABO, Soulmates, Language, Blood, Depression, Angst, Referenced Masturbation, Deviant Behavior

*I’m not posting this anymore on the kinkmeme after this due to taking a more not so nice take on a character that those on the meme turn into rabid banshees to protect from any perceived bashing. So I’ll just be slowly updating it on here for those who may still read this fic.

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After noticing how Ignis had reacted when the blonde entered the apartment, Gladio kept an eye on them both, watching the subtle gestures and body language when they were in each other’s vicinity. And on the off chance they were to lock eyes, Gladio swore he saw sparkles before the glasses wearing teen would act oddly disgruntled and turn away. It was like all the others Gladio had seen that ended up together. So there was no doubt about it, the two were soulmates. However, it would seem that someone didn’t agree and that threw the older man off though. Ignis’ reaction when Gladio broached the subject the day after was surprising, with him acting hostile and almost offended at the notion.

“You are clearly mistaken, Gladiolus, and you should not make baseless assumptions like that.” Ignis snaps, acting twitchy as his face becomes red.

“Iggy, the two of you were batting your eyelashes at one another half the night and blushing like nuns in a porn shop whenever you were close. Not to mention your nose would twitch whenever he’d walk by. And when he hugged you, you all but had your nose buried in his neck.”

“My nose twitched from the choice of body spray he had bathed himself in before arriving, it was horrid and suffocating. You should count yourself lucky to have not been able to smell it.” he huffs and shakes his head. “Really, I will never understand the obsession with using a whole can of body spray on oneself every day. Plus I shoved my face into his neck to not be rude and to hide my disgust of that horrid spray.”    

“Ignis, I know what I saw.”

“No you don’t! He is not my soulmate! My soulmate is-” he snarls but then stops and collects himself by taking a deep breath. “I do not believe I have met mine yet or it is possible they haven’t started producing pheromones yet. There are some despite presenting that don’t give off a scent until they are well into adulthood or those who use suppressants or blockers. So just, stop Gladio.”

But he doesn’t and starts laughing. Not a “this is funny” laugh, but a “you gotta be kidding me” laugh.

“Un-fucking-believable. I’m mean wow, never would I have pegged you as being so arrogant.”

The younger man’s eyes slit. “What?”

“I mean really, your destined love, the one meant just for you was just plopped into your lap and you have the balls to get mad because he’s not the one you wanted while your friend who wants to find theirs can’t because fate gave them the middle finger. So what is it, Ignis? He not up to your high standards or is it because of your dream to be the one to claim and knot h-” A stinging slap to his face cuts Gladio off. Blood trickles down from his nostrils and a deep rage begins building inside him.

“Do not put words in my mouth Gladio, especially ones that are salacious and unfounded. I’m telling you he is not my soulmate and your accusation is deplorable and you should feel ashamed.”

Gladio doesn’t waver though and grits his teeth as he futility wipes at the blood dripping down his face. “So then what were all the eye batting and little blushes for?”

“I was blinking more due to standing over a hot stove and my eyes getting dry. The blushing was embarrassment from the crude talk coming from yours and the other two’s mouths. I really expected better from you Gladio and your obsession with all this soulmate nonsense is warping your mind. Keep this delusional nonsense up and you won’t have friends left, I for one won’t be and just do what is needed when it pertains to his highness. Not to mention your mental state may be called into question and you may be deemed unfit as a member of the guard.”

This incenses Gladio even more, he would never allow himself to become so obsessed with something that he’d make rash or immoral decisions that could cause harm to others. And he has seen the same signs over a dozen times before and had not been wrong once. If anyone was being delusional it was Ignis. There was no way he was wrong about this, there couldn’t.

Could it?

“You’re bleeding.” a voice gasps out.

The two men turn to look at the prince who stares in concern at his shield and Gladio hears a faint scoff off to the side as Noctis begins to step closer to him.  

Gladio just grunts softly while wiping his nose again and nudges the teen’s hand away before turning to walk towards the locker rooms. “My allergies are getting bad again. So just train with Ignis.”

He ignores the calls and heads into the locker room, sealing himself into one of the changing stalls and resting his head back against the wall with a deep sigh. Doubt and his own low self-esteem are eating away at him, making him question everything he has noted on the soulmate matter up to this point.

Maybe he was becoming obsessed, maybe they were just good guesses or just blatantly obvious. Gods, what had he done? He wants to cry, punch a wall, scream, curse fate for fucking him over, apologize, to be able to breathe through his damn nose for more than just a couple days. He’ll never be happy, never feel euphoric, never feel unconditional love, never find his soulmate. He fucked up, all because he assumed and stubbornly stuck to his guns in hopes it was true and he had solved the puzzle of finding his love. Then by hurling insults and allegations at his friend in a fit of rage. He was stupid.

“Hey.”

Gladio looks up and sees Noctis leaning over the separator between his and the other stall. “Noct, get down.”

“Then unlock the door and let me come in.”

“No, you have training to do.”

“Don’t have anyone to train with.”

“What about Ignis?”

“He left, said he had a migraine.”

“Hmm.” Gladio grunts and unlocks the latch finally, allowing the younger teen entry.

“So what made you two get into an argument?” Noctis asks as he takes a seat next to his friend.

“We were not arguing.”  

“You have a welt in the shape of a hand and Ignis’ palm was red. Doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.”

“Yeah, but sometimes your assumptions can be wrong.” he says with a sigh.

Noctis goes to reply but is cut off when Gladio lets out a mighty sneeze, followed by a few more.

“Sonuvabitch.” Gladio grumbles and wipes at his nose then tries breathing but finds he’s stuffed up. “Guess this is my punishment for being an asshole.” he says with a nasally tone.

“So tell me what was the fight about and don’t tell me it was nothing. I know when the both of you are mad.”

The older man purses his lips but lets out a deep sigh. “I told Ignis that I believed him and your blonde friend were soulmates based off of body cues I saw others have. He vehemently refuted my claim and I took some petty jabs at him.”

“He doesn’t think so?” Noct asks furrowing his brows and leaning his head back, “Huh, that’s odd. Prompto was sure they were too. He was all excited and wouldn’t shut up about. I almost suffocated him with my pillow.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, said he felt all tingly and warm after Ignis and him locked eyes, then even more when Ignis breathed in his scent and held him tighter when they hugged.”

“Huh, you don’t say.” Gladio grumbles and rubs at his nose.

“So Ignis denied it?”

“Yup, nastily too.” he says and frowns. “Maybe blondie is mistaken, as well as me.”

“No, I don’t think that’s true. I never saw Prompto so happy and it was all genuine. Maybe Ignis is denying it because he’s afraid it will cause a rift between us or that it will take his focus from his duties away?”

Both of those points were possible, along with something else that Gladio just tosses into the abyss of his mind.

“Could be.” he says with a sigh. “I probably should apologize to him though, I let my anger get the best of me.”

“You both did and both do.” Noctis says and nudges his shield. “So let’s go train and then head back to my place, I’m sure he’ll be there later anyway.”

“Yeah, sure.” Gladio says and then raises an eyebrow when the prince offers a hand to him. He goes to take it, but stops and sneezes multiple times. “Ah shit.” he grunts and sniffles as Noctis chuckles, making him smile. “Heh, guess my soulmate must have been thinking about me.”

The younger teen smiles back at him. “I believe they were.” he says and offers his hand out again.

Something clicks in the shield’s mind, that maybe the sneezes were more than just his allergies as Noctis had suggested. No, probably not, fate wasn’t that kind to him.

[ryvrr]

where only you remain, chapter two

[AO3 LINK] Fandom: Haikyuu!! Chapters: 2/? Pairing: Iwaoi (Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru) Words: 5,697 Summary: One moment, the world is whole. It’s chaotic and war torn, but it’s still there, it still exists. The next, you wake up two hundred years in the future and everything has been ripped out of your cold, cryogenically frozen fingers. Notes: so i’ve decided chapters will be posted every two weeks. i had this one done last weekend, and i was going to hold onto it so i could get a head start on the next one, but!! guess what!! i got super sick, so that didn’t happen. next update will be on january 13th. please look forward to it! reblogs, comments, and likes are all appreciated. hope you enjoy~

[Read Chapter One HERE!]

Diamond City was not a difficult settlement to find, not when you put your mind to it. Iwaizumi had not fully decided to follow the lead until the afternoon of the next day. He’d allowed it to simmer in the back of his thoughts while he assisted in expanding the garden with Suga and Daichi. Suga did not bring it up again, but he glanced periodically at Iwaizumi as if to ask what are you still doing here?

Finally, after another night had passed, Iwaizumi made his decision. He would go to Diamond City. It was the only lead he had at the moment, even if it wasn’t one about Shoichi at all. It still might lead him in the right direction all the same. He could leave no stone unturned.

He packed up his things again and exited his old house with Minako. Codsworth offered to tag along-- as he did every time Iwaizumi swung through and left-- but he declined. Atsuto was enough of a companion. Iwaizumi didn’t think he had enough mental fortitude to keep up conversation with the robot. He was still tired, even after months had passed since he’d been chewed up and spat out into this decimated land.

“I’ll see you when I come back through,” Iwaizumi told Codsworth. The robot had no facial expressions, but his voice hinted at displeasure when he replied in the affirmative. Iwaizumi shrugged that off and swung his bag onto his shoulders. “Come on, boy,” he called to the dog, and they departed.

There was a lot of wandering for the first few days. The radio and Atsuto were his only constant companions, the dog barking periodically to mark interesting things on their path. On one memorable occasion, Atsuto trotted back to him with a rocket launcher clenched between his teeth.

“Holy shit,” Iwaizumi cursed as he shot forward to rescue it. “How the hell did you even-- no, nevermind. I don’t want to know. Thanks, boy.”

A travelling trade was the one who finally got him going in the right direction. “It’s thatta way,” the man said gruffly as Iwaizumi handed over bottle caps for more ammunition. “Can’t miss it. Too fuckin’ huge. There’s a lot of Super Mutants surrounding it, though, so be careful.”

Iwaizumi thanked him, before he left. Super Mutants, another thing he hadn’t known the existence of and would probably find out about the hard way. Hopefully they weren’t as tough as Deathclaws.

His first impression of Diamond City was colored by the man yelling outside of the closed gate. “Open the gate, Reon!” he complained into the speaker nearby. “This isn’t funny! I have to get back in there, you know. I live there!”

“They said not to let you back in, Oikawa,” replied who Iwaizumi assumed to be Reon. He sounded sheepish and frazzled. “The Mayor, you know, he wasn’t too happy with you for writing that article. Anyway, I can’t do it! I have orders, and it’s my job and all.”

“Your job!?” Oikawa screeched. Iwaizumi glanced around warily as he approached. There was no one around to threaten them, but it was probably not a good idea for this Oikawa to be so loud. Iwaizumi had only been in this apocalyptic landscape for a handful of months, but noises could draw the ire of the environment faster than anything else. “You have to keep me out because of one measly article!? Reon, let me back in, this is my home!”

“It wasn’t measly, Oikawa,” Reon sighed. “The mayor said your article was all lies and we shouldn’t let you back in. You’re a danger to the city.”

“A d-danger--” Oikawa sputtered off, and wide eyes finally landed on Iwaizumi. There was a pause as he seemed to acknowledge his presence and mull it over, then he snapped his fingers as if a thought had just occurred to him. “Oh!” he whispered. “You want into the city, right? Ah! O-one second, just… play along.” He winked and placed one finger over his lips, his tongue stuck out playfully.

Iwaizumi had no way to respond. Most of the people he had met out here were tense and solemn, but Oikawa seemed… different. Iwaizumi wasn’t sure how to explain it, not even to himself. Atsuto sat down next to them and wagged his tail excitedly.

“Wooow!” Oikawa gasped loudly as his hands flew up to cover his mouth. “A trader from up north!? Gee, you have so much stuff to sell here, huh? That’s a lot of supplies!” Oikawa screwed up his face as if in consternation. “Man, it’d be too bad if they didn’t let you in, huh? That’s enough to stock us for a whole month!” Oikawa held up a hand when Iwaizumi opened his mouth as if to respond. “Reon, you gonna let us in or what? Or else you’re the one who has to explain to Aone why we passed up all these supplies!”

A heavy sigh hung in the air for a moment before Reon spoke. “Fine,” he said. “Just-- yeah, fine, give me a second and I’ll open it, Oikawa. Geez.”

The gate opened and Oikawa turned back to Iwaizumi with a bright smile. “Thanks for your help,” he said. “That was a tough situation. Glad you showed up.”

“Happy to help,” Iwaizumi said with a deadpan expression. Oikawa squinted at him and then laughed. Iwaizumi blinked owlishly as Oikawa grinned at him.

“Yeah,” he replied. “You look like a real helpful guy.” He tipped his head toward where the gate now stood open. “Come on! Diamond City awaits.” Iwaizumi followed him in. There was a man already there, expression thunderous.

“Who let you back in!?” His glare was all for Oikawa. Iwaizumi stood slightly behind the taller man, his face grim and brows drawn together. He had no idea what had happened, besides a mentioned article and the mayor being angry. Kicking someone out of their home without a word seemed a bit… much, but what did Iwaizumi know? “Don’t you think you’ve caused enough harm, Oikawa?”

“Mmmm,” Oikawa said and tapped his lower lip, looked up at the ceiling as if to search for the answer. “Nope! Not just yet. There’s still plenty more to be done, I think.”

“Next, I’m going to scrap your entire newspaper, break your damn printing press,” the man yelled. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth!”

Oikawa whirled to Iwaizumi, who startled backward a step at the look on his face. “What do you think about this, newcomer? The great Mayor of Diamond City, threatening our freedoms and liberties!”

“I… have no idea what either of you are talking about,” he admitted. “Though I don’t think it’s fair to just kick someone out of their home.”

Oikawa turned back to the mayor. “See? Not fair!”

“What’s not fair is you stirring up trouble every two seconds,” the mayor replied tersely. “Your damn newspaper is a waste--”

Oikawa scoffed. “Do you think it’s a waste?” he asked Iwaizumi brightly. “The truth has to be spread somehow, you know. Oh, but you don’t look like much of a reader. Maybe you’ve never even seen my newspaper! Maybe you don’t even know how to read.” Iwaizumi saw Oikawa’s lips twist into a smirk as he winked his way.

“I know how to read,” Iwaizumi stated, “but no, I’ve never read your paper.”

“You’re really missin’ out,” Oikawa told him simply without an inkling of humbleness. “But don’t you think the press is important?”

Iwaizumi frowned as he mulled it over a moment, but there wasn’t much to think about. “I support it,” he agreed. No reason to lie. It was good to have all sides of an argument.

“Sorry Oikawa dragged you into this,” the mayor simpered. “You seem like just the sort of person we need here in Diamond City. What brought you here?”

“My son,” Iwaizumi said. “He’s missing, and I’m searching for him.”

The mayor’s face settled into a carefully blank mask. Iwaizumi’s eyes narrowed, but… that wasn’t cause for concern, was it? “I’m sorry I can’t be of more help,” he told Iwaizumi, “but I’m sure there are other citizens in Diamond City who might be able to. Feel free to ask one of them. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He paused and glared Oikawa’s way. “The next time you step out of line, Oikawa, you and that nephew of yours are out of Diamond City,” and then he was gone.

Oikawa heaved a heavy, dramatic sigh. “Well, that could have gone better, but it could have gone worse!” he said cheerfully. He whirled around to face Iwaizumi again. “I’m Oikawa Tooru.”

“Iwaizumi Hajime,” Iwaizumi replied.

“You should check in with the detective here in town,” Oikawa told him. “You helped me get back in, so why not give you a little push, huh? His name is Akaashi Keiji. He’s really good at finding things, and I’m sure he’d lend a hand if you asked him. Or paid, more like. You have caps, right?” Oikawa’s eyes shot up and down Iwaizumi.

“I’ve got caps,” Iwaizumi said tersely.

Oikawa nodded. “After that!” He paused and tapped his lower lip, his tongue poking out. “Come see me? I have an office near the entrance of Diamond City, and I’d love to talk to you some more. You seem real interesting, Iwaizumi.” He threw a quick wink over his shoulder. “I think you’d make a real interesting interview! Think about it!” Then he was gone too, trotting off further into the depths of Diamond City.

“Like hell I will,” Iwaizumi grumbled.

It took awhile for Iwaizumi to find Akaashi Keiji’s detective agency. By the time he did, the sun had already set ages ago and it was closed. He shrugged it off. He could go back tomorrow. For now, he turned around and decided to search around for a place to spend the night. He was sure they would have somewhere he could pay some caps and get a room, or at least a section of relatively clean floor to curl up on. It would be much better than camping out on his own with only Atsuto as a guard.

Speaking of, his dog barked excitedly and wagged his tail whenever someone even so much as glanced their way. There were a lot of people here, more than at Sanctuary, and the dog seemed excited for pets. People chose mostly to ignore him, but some looked longingly as if they wanted to approach but were worried they’d get reprimanded for it.

He eventually did find somewhere to bed down for the night. It was a little more expensive than he wanted to pay, but… well, it was better than going outside of Diamond City and finding someplace. He had been warned about Super Mutants. He had a feeling he did not want to meet one in the dark of the night while half awake.

“Never seen you around here before,” the barkeep told him conversationally as he paid. Iwaizumi looked at him politely and raised a brow. “We mostly get regulars. You know, merchants and stuff coming into town and needing a room.”

“Guess I’m not one of those,” Iwaizumi replied. He definitely did not look like one. “An adventurer, more like.”

“An adventurer?” The man hummed to himself in thought. “That sounds way more interesting than some asshole who just wanders the wastes.”

Iwaizumi shrugged. “That fits me too, I guess,” he replied.

“I’m Matsukawa,” the barkeep introduced. Iwaizumi had not asked. He wondered if he just had one of those faces, ones that endeared him to people. There were a lot of them who approached and told Iwaizumi their whole life story, it seemed, before he could have ever even thought to ask for it.

“Iwaizumi,” he said, because he was sure Matsukawa probably expected an answer.

“Have you ever been to Diamond City before?” Matsukawa polished a glass that was probably a lost cause, it was so old and grimy, but Iwaizumi did not have the heart to let him know that. “You could have been here before, I guess, and never needed a place to stay. Shouldn’t have assumed.”

“No, you’re right,” Iwaizumi said. “I’ve never been here before. I came here looking for leads on a missing person.”

“Ah, so you’re looking for Akaashi,” Matsukawa replied with a short nod. “We get a lot of people who ask about him, now.”

“He’s a detective, right? I suppose he’d get a lot of work here in the wastes. People go missing.”

“Mm,” Matsukawa agreed. “Especially with all the Super Mutants around, and the raiders. People get kidnapped or killed whenever they leave the city for even a short errand.”

Atsuto whined. Iwaizumi looked down at him to see him peering up with plaintitive eyes. “Oh,” he mumbled, “I guess I should feed and water him. Thanks for the hospitality.” Matsukawa waved him off, and Iwaizumi figured that meant their conversation was over. He nodded his head before he picked up his pack, slid off the barstool, and headed to find the room he’d been given for the night.

The next day found him in the agency at a loss. “What do you mean he’s missing?” Iwaizumi asked. “A detective who searches for missing people goes missing himself?”

Akaashi’s secretary looked nonplussed. “I don’t know,” she admitted. Her fingers came up to tuck a dark strand of hair behind her ear. “Do you want to find him enough? Maybe you can find him.”

This was his life now. If he wanted to take one step forward, he had to take two back and reroute completely. It was always avoiding obstacles and going roundabout ways to get to where he needed to be. Nothing was ever simple in Iwaizumi Hajime’s life. “I guess I’ll do that,” he sighed. “Do you have any idea where he last was? Was he looking for someone?”

The woman tilted her head as she thought about it, her eyes turned heavenward. “There was a girl who was kidnapped,” she said slowly. “He said he would go check where the gang was that he thought she had been taken by. That’s a few blocks outside of Diamond City. I’m sure you can find it.” Not much to go on, but Iwaizumi supposed it was more than if she had just set him loose without anything.

It had been a bitch to get in and find the detective, though. There were way more mobsters than he had thought there would be, but nowhere near as many as when he’d taken out that old raider group for the Minutemen. It was a hassle, but not impossible. By the time he found Akaashi, Iwaizumi realized that his assistant had left out one key fact.

“You’re not… human,” Iwaizumi stated bluntly. He had never seen someone like Akaashi before. His eyes were too bright of a green to be real, almost glowing, and while his skin looked like it was supposed to mimic human, there were some tears and holes in it that showed wiring underneath.

“Astute observation,” Akaashi told him dryly. Iwaizumi felt a little bad for a moment. He probably got that reaction a lot. “Thank you for coming to my aid.”

“No problem,” Iwaizumi mumbled. He rubbed the back of his neck and ignored the flush that creeped up into his face. Tan skin or not, he always tended to get red rather easily. He hated it. “I guess we should get out of here before reinforcements come.”

“You are filled with sharp ideas,” Akaashi said, but there was a hint of amusement in the words, so Iwaizumi did not feel insulted. They headed out of the room, Akaashi bringing up the rear with Atsuto in the lead. The dog was rather sharp, himself. He always seemed to know when quiet was needed and never barked during tense moments.

“What happened anyway?” Iwaizumi asked after they took out the first slew of mobsters. Akaashi scoffed in disgust, but did not answer right away. Iwaizumi didn’t press. He figured the… robot? No, he had heard the word while in Diamond City. He was sure Akaashi was a synth, one of those creations that replaced humans, but he seemed less like one stealthily made and more like one that was supposed to be known as a robot. Was he a robot? Or was that an insult? Iwaizumi felt at a loss. He had no idea what was okay to say and what wasn’t. He made a mental note to ask Suga. He seemed like someone who would calmly explain these sorts of things to him.

“I was ambushed,” Akaashi said when Iwaizumi and he were over halfway out of the vault. “I had thought the girl had been kidnapped, but I had been… mistaken. She had left of her own volition. She’s in a relationship with the boss of the gang, Tanaka Ryunosuke.”

“Ah,” Iwaizumi said as the picture became clear. “Not the… best person to run off with.”

“Tanaka isn’t as bad as that,” Akaashi admitted, but it sounded like it took a lot out of him to say the words. “It’s the reason I have never cared one way or another about his gang running around out here. For the most part, they don’t do anything bad and they stay out of the way of people who don’t deserve the hassle. When this happened… I had thought, perhaps, Tanaka had gone rogue and thrown his skewed, odd morals out the window. However, I was mistaken. Tanaka felt it an insult when I tried to take back his… girlfriend by force, and so I was locked up to stew over my actions.” Iwaizumi had a feeling those were Tanaka’s words. “I have a feeling Tanaka will not appreciate us decimating half of his gang, however.”

“I guess I’ll tell him sorry and hope he accepts the apology,” Iwaizumi sighed. The men had probably come out guns ablazing because they had no idea who Iwaizumi was, or why he had broken into their Vault. He actually sort of felt bad now. Perhaps the men had not been so bad. He didn’t think he killed most of them, only incapacitated. He had been intent on rescuing Akaashi, not creating a bloodbath. Perhaps that would work in their favor.

“From here on out, we will simply try to knock them out,” Akaashi replied. “I noted the few bodies we passed that you took care of while searching for me, quite a few of them were not dead. I suppose Tanaka will not be quite as cross as if you’d have killed them.”

“That’s what I’m hoping,” Iwaizumi admitted.

Tanaka had been annoyed, but not full blown angry. They ran into him when they were almost out of the Vault. “You know,” he said conversationally with a shake of his head, “you really fucked up my security.”

“I apologize,” Iwaizumi said neutrally. “I had only meant to find Akaashi and bring him back to Diamond City.”

Tanaka held a finger out and wagged it in his direction. “Rude,” he said, but a moment later he shrugged it off. “Oh, whatever, are you cooled down now, Akaashi?” His eyes shifted to the synth next to Iwaizumi. “You look like you’ve calmed down.”

“I was never angry,” Akaashi replied shortly. “You presumed.”

Tanaka laughed. “Of course I did! You had that look you get, the one where you’re annoyed!” He turned toward the girl who stood next to him. “Didn’t he, babe? He had it. I know he did and I didn’t imagine it!”

“He did,” she replied with a quick nod. Her lips were tilted into a genuine smile.

“I had been mistaken in my belief that Amanai had been taken against her will--”

“Tanaka would never--”

“Why, I oughta-- !” Tanaka started to yell.

“Perhaps you did not hear the first part, but I was mistaken,” Akaashi repeated loudly over their shouts. “I apologize.”

“Oh,” Amanai murmured. “Well, that’s fine then!” Her smile was friendly as she patted Tanaka gently on the arm. “It was just a misunderstanding, Ryunosuke.”

“Tch,” he muttered, but then seemed to physically shrug the weight of the accusation off his shoulders. “Well, I’ll give you a headstart!” His voice brightened into a chipper grin and he jerked his thumb behind him. “You got ten seconds to run outta here before we hunt you down! I woulda given you only five, but since Akaashi is an old friend…”

“Good evening,” Iwaizumi said and then headed in a brisk jog for the Vault doors, Akaashi right behind him. There were no more hiccups the entire way back to Diamond City. They evaded some raiders holed up in an old store, and Akaashi managed to keep up with the quick clip Iwaizumi held all the way back. Tanaka didn’t try to hunt them down even after the ten seconds were up, and Iwaizumi had a hunch he had only said that for a reason not to fight them. “He wasn’t all that bad,” Iwaizumi muttered aside to Akaashi as they approached the city gates.

“Typically he’s not,” Akaashi agreed. “He keeps to himself, and only fights other nasty things, like raiders and super mutants.”

“Akaashi!” Reon greeted them as they entered. “We thought you were gone for good this time. It’s been days. Kiyoko’s been worried about having to close up shop on you if you never returned.”

“Thank you,” Akaashi greeted politely. “I will let her know immediately that I’ve returned.” He kept walking and Iwaizumi followed along behind, nodded his head at Reon when he waved a little in greeting.

They didn’t speak again until they reached Akaashi’s agency. His assistant-- the newly dubbed Kiyoko-- looked relieved as he entered. “I was worried the worst had happened,” she murmured and her smile was soft, but there. Her eyes went to Iwaizumi and she nodded her thanks to him. “I suppose it’s you we have to thank for finding him.”

Akaashi went to his seat and settled into it, turning to consider Iwaizumi. “Yes,” he answered Kiyoko. “I don’t believe we ever properly introduced ourselves. I imagine you are aware I am Akaashi Keiji, the detective for this agency?” Iwaizumi nodded. “May I inquire as to my rescuer’s name?”

“Iwaizumi Hajime,” he answered politely.

“You are seeking someone? That would be the reason you sought me out.”

“My son,” Iwaizumi said. “He was taken from me.”

“Ah,” Akaashi sighed. He nodded his head sharply. “It would perhaps be best if you started from the beginning.” He motioned to a seat across from him, the one Kiyoko had abandoned to go work on paperwork in the backroom. “If you don’t mind?”

Iwaizumi seated himself and did just that.

Awhile later, once the whole story had been laid out and Akaashi was now caught up to the present, he nodded his head. “I see,” he hummed. One hand came up so that his chin could rest on it as he stared off into the distance in deep thought. “I believe I could help you. I will need several days, if you are amenable? I will send word for you. Is there somewhere you are presently staying?”

“That bar with the spare rooms,” Iwaizumi replied, “and when I’m not there, I’m in a settlement called Sanctuary. I’ll try to stick around Diamond City for now, though, so it’s easier to find me. I’m sure I can find some work to do to keep me busy.”

Akaashi nodded. “You do seem rather handy to have around,” he agreed. “There are plenty around who might have need of services such as yours. Very well. I will begin a preemptive search and get back to you.”

And with that, Iwaizumi was dismissed.

He originally had no intention of finding Oikawa again.

Iwaizumi managed to keep himself busy for the first two days. Akaashi had been right. There were plenty of people about Diamond City who needed random things done for them and would pay him in gear and bottlecaps to do it. He cleared out a couple raider hotspots, found a few missing items left outside of the city limits, and even helped to escort a trader who needed to go to another nearby settlement.

So he was busy enough, really, that he should not have even had a spare moment to think of brown eyes and a sly smirk. He should not have thought about Oikawa, who had been merely a blip on his radar when he’d arrived in Diamond City, and yet--

And yet--

It was no secret where the newspaper Oikawa ran was. There was a young boy just outside of it, hawking the paper and attempting to drum up more sales. He looked at Iwaizumi with narrowed eyes as he approached. “You’re that guy Tooru talked about the other day,” he said. “I thought he lied, ya know, about you comin’ by!”

Iwaizumi did not know how to handle Oikawa having mentioned him. “I guess he didn’t,” he replied.

“Huh.” The kid looked him up and down, a look of skeptical disbelief on his face. “I heard you took out a whole raider group outside the city,” he said conversationally. Iwaizumi nodded, and the kid whistled in admiration. “Wow, mister. Tooru’s gonna be real happy to talk to you after that. You’ve got half the city abuzz!”

“He inside?” Iwaizumi asked and jerked his thumb toward the little shack the newspaper was based out of. The boy nodded and stepped aside to let Iwaizumi approach the front door. He knocked raptly and opened the door a moment later to step inside. “Oikawa?”

There was a sudden outburst of movement as Oikawa squawked and came flying out of another room. “You!” he cried out in joy as he pointed wildly at Iwaizumi. “You know, it’s rude to keep a cute guy waiting, Iwaizumi! I invited you here ages ago, and you only just now show up?”

“I had things to do,” Iwaizumi replied dryly. “A life. You should try it out, sometime.”

Oikawa scoffed, then waved his hand as if to shoo away such trivial things. “So are you here for an interview!?” he asked excitedly. He slapped one closed hand into the open palm of the other. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to keep yourself away! I’m a very enigmatic personality and all.” Oikawa nodded to himself in agreement. “Mmhm, that must be it. Now!” He threw his arms out dramatically and motioned toward a chair near a desk overflowing with papers and writing utensils. “Please, have a seat in my office.”

“What do you want to know?” Iwaizumi grumbled. He had no idea what Oikawa could even find so interesting about him. Oikawa had no idea about the details of the Vault, or that Iwaizumi came from two hundred years in the past. So what else was there about Iwaizumi Hajime that he could find so interesting? He took the seat with no other complaint and stared Oikawa down as he pulled up another chair to perch on.

“Well,” Oikawa said with a sigh and a gesture, “I know you’re a Vault dweller. The whole get up and the suit, the Pip-Boy, et cetera. How was that for you? How did that treat you? Why did you leave?” Oikawa leaned forward and now he had a little notebook in his hands, his eyes keen and lit up with interest.

“It was…” What was he supposed to say? “I wouldn’t know.”

“Oh,” Oikawa said. “Did you steal the suit?”

“No, Vault-Tec gave it to me themselves,” Iwaizumi replied. “I was a resident of a Vault, but…”

“But?”

There really was no way around this. Honesty was perhaps the best policy in this situation. “The Vault was made to test the effects of freezing people for years on end,” Iwaizumi explained. “I have no idea what living in a Vault would be like, because there was no living being done in the one I was in.” Iwaizumi shrugged. “Sorry. That’s probably boring to write abou--”

“You were frozen!?” Oikawa whispered. The excitement had not left his eyes. If anything, it had only doubled at this revelation. “How long were you frozen? When did they freeze you?”

“When the bombs went off during the war,” Iwaizumi replied.

There was a heavy silence. Oikawa appeared to have stopped breathing. His eyes were trained on Iwaizumi, and they were wide, his face pale. “When the bombs went off… during the war?” He seemed to want to confirm this. Iwaizumi nodded. “The war… that happened over two hundred years ago?”

“Yes,” Iwaizumi said.

“You’re telling me… you’re over two hundred years old?” Oikawa appeared to have hit the lottery. His eyes practically glittered. His lips spread into a huge smile. “You were alive before the nuclear fallout? You were alive back during the war!?”

“Uh,” Iwaizumi mumbled. “Yeah.”

“This is amazing. I’m having an interview with a great, great, great grandfather, holy shit,” Oikawa breathed. Iwaizumi was not sure how he felt about being called any sort of grandfather, but… “The Man Out of Time,” Oikawa declared dramatically. “Oh, and you’re searching for your lost son! This piece is going to be eaten directly out of the palm of my hand, Iwaizumi.”

“Glad I could help?” Iwaizumi had no idea what was going on at this point.

“Now, one last thing,” Oikawa said. He looked at Iwaizumi seriously, and his eyes lost their excited gleam. The entire look on his face shifted into a solemn one, and it almost was enough to give Iwaizumi whiplash. “As someone who has lost their son, what would you say to the Commonwealth who are also dealing with matters like this? Those who are too scared to do anything, to go against what could possibly be a bigger issue, taking their loved ones away from them.”

Iwaizumi felt like he had been put on the spot. What would he say…? He had no idea what to say to himself, half of the time, when he got lost in thoughts of his son. “It…” Iwaizumi paused and frowned, his brows furrowed together in thought. “It never gets easier,” he stated firmly. “There will be days that you wish you could… I don’t know, give up. Days where you wish you could take the easy route, and forget, or… but you can’t. Out there, somewhere, is your loved one. You can’t give up on them. They need you.”

Oikawa nodded as he jotted down notes, his hand flying rapidly across the page as his messy handwriting scrawled out little anecdotes for himself. “Right, right,” Oikawa said. “That’s very powerful, Iwaizumi.” He looked up and smiled, just a little, but it reached his eyes. It didn’t look like one of the fake smiles he flashed around the other day at the front of Diamond City. “Thank you for this interview. I truly do appreciate it. This will help me spread a message of hope for those who need it most right now!”

“I… I’m happy to help,” Iwaizumi mumbled. He’d only come here because he’d had nothing to do and had remembered Oikawa’s invitation. He was glad he had. If it meant he had helped even one person, today, then it would help Iwaizumi feel more comfortable in his skin.

Iwaizumi got to his feet. He assumed they were done now. Oikawa had his interview, and there was nothing more needed. “You know, Iwa,” Oikawa said lightly, “you’re a very interesting person.”

“Don’t call me that,” Iwaizumi grumbled. Oikawa ignored him.

“It might help me to tag along with you, sometime,” he said brightly. “I can’t always get all the stories I need, staying holed up in Diamond City.” His sharp eyes met Iwaizumi’s and he grinned. It was as dangerous as the rest of him. Iwaizumi felt caught in his gaze. “Maybe we should team up! What do you think, Iwa?”

Iwaizumi paused. Atsuto was a fine companion, but it wouldn’t hurt to have another human to have around. Sometimes Daichi would go on missions with him, but that was rare. Daichi had his own problems and life back at Sanctuary and couldn’t get away as often as Iwaizumi would like. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt,” he replied after a long, drawn out moment of thought. “If you really have nothing better to do than follow me around.”

“I don’t!” Oikawa said with no shame. His smile didn’t dim one wattage. “It’s settled, then! Iwa and I will be the best of friends in no time~”

“No, we won’t,” Iwaizumi said. His face was bland as he stared back at Oikawa. He had a face Iwaizumi dreamed about punching. He wondered if that would start them out on the wrong foot. Probably.

“Ah, don’t be intimidated, Iwa! I promise I’m amazing, but you can still be a friend with me. I am a humble man, you know, and I deign to associate with peasants--”

“I’m regretting this immediately,” Iwaizumi snapped as he turned and headed for the door. Oikawa trailed along behind him, tittering about this and that, and Iwaizumi found it better to tune him out.

“Where you goin’, Tooru?” the boy from before asked as they exited.

“I’m on the hunt for more news, Takeru!” Oikawa told him. He crouched down and placed his hands on his shoulders, grinned and leaned forward to talk conspiratorially. “You’ll have to hold down the fort here while I’m gone. Iwaizumi and I are going to go find some bad guys, rat out some good leads, you know. The work of a truly inspiring journalist!”

“Don’t die,” Takeru responded, nonplussed. “That’d be annoying. Almost as much as you are everyday, but like. More so.”

Oikawa sputtered. “Takeru! Rude!” He jumped back to his feet. “Come, come, Iwa! I see how I’m treated around here.” Oikawa sniffed and stormed off. Iwaizumi shared a deadpan look with Takeru.

“He’s your problem now,” Takeru told him.

“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” Iwaizumi asked to the air as he followed along behind Oikawa. He had a feeling he already knew the answer.

[eirian-houpe]

The Library Beneath the Clock Tower - Chapter 27

Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Belle/Gaston (Once Upon a Time)

Characters: Belle (Once Upon a Time), Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Red Riding Hood | Ruby, Widow Lucas | Granny, Grumpy | Leroy, Maurice | Moe French, Evil Queen | Regina Mills, Merida (Once Upon a Time), Jiminy Cricket | Archie Hopper, Gaston (Once Upon a Time), Le Fou, Mad Hatter | Jefferson, Prince Charming | David Nolan, Gus | Billy, Huntsman | Sheriff Graham

Additional Tags: Bookshop On the Corner, slightly AU, Cursed Storybrooke (Once Upon a Time), Alternate Universe - In Storybrooke | Cursed (Once Upon a Time), Eventual Smut

Summary: Storybrooke has no library, and neither does Belle, not since the library where she worked in Boston discovered her past as an inpatient at a mental hospital. Taking her future into her own hands, Belle travels to Storybrooke where her intention is to open up the town library, but all does not go according to her plan. Obstacles and false starts, and diversion along very wrong pathways interrupt her journey toward fulfilling her dream, as well as taking her rightful place and becoming a part of the Storybrooke community.

Read previous chapters on AO3

Chapter 27 - Books and Boxes

Belle closed the door to the apartment with a decided bang, deliberately designed to get Ruby up out of bed, and set the bag of breakfast confections she’d purchased at Granny’s after her early morning walk, and the to-go cups of coffee - both for Ruby - on the counter before filling and switching on the kettle to make herself tea. This had become almost a routine for the two women, since Ruby’s ‘vacation’ had somehow extended further and further until she had apparently taken a leave of absence, all without telling her friend. It wasn’t that Belle was angry per se, just that she would have liked to know, especially as it seemed that Ruby’s love life was… well it was head-spinning at best. Belle could never tell who she was going on a date with on any given day, and she felt sorry for Gus who asked after Ruby whenever he saw Belle.

Meanwhile, since she had given her assurances to Ruby that she wouldn’t act on asking Hunter to help her with the shipment of books from the other rural library - and she had kept that promise - nor the one after that, which she’d purchased from a second library in the suburbs of Boston that was also closing down, Belle’s own, and still strange, loneliness continued unabated.

By some strange quirk of fate, however, the books she had arranged for Storybrooke library to have, arrived anyway, left tucked away in a forgotten corner of the cannery for Belle to collect late one evening after she received an email to let her know they were there. It had taken some work to persuade Ruby to go with her and help her to load the van, and of course her friend didn’t at all believe her when she said she’d had nothing to do with it, and hadn’t asked Hunter to do it at all.

“Remember what I said that one time before, about me being the Mother Superior of that convent?” Ruby snapped, even as she got into the passenger side of the van. Belle said nothing and evidently Ruby took it for confirmation of remembering and said, “Well, ditto.”

Belle sighed, “Ruby, what can I do or say to make you believe that I didn’t do this?”

“Nothing,” Ruby said. “And Belle, you know, it really isn’t on. I mean, I know I’ve not exactly been Hunter’s biggest fan and all that, but… did you ever think what might happen if he got caught hauling contraband.”

“You make it sound like drugs or something,” Belle muttered as she started the engine, and turned around in the road to head out toward the docks and the cannery.

“It might as well be,” Ruby said. “He could get into trouble; get fired. Is that what you want?”

“It’s books, Ruby,” Belle threw up her hands, “and of course I don’t.”

“Hands on the wheel!” Ruby squeaked, grabbing hold of the handle above the door until Belle once more gripped the steering wheel and took a calming breath.

“And for the last time, I didn’t ask Hunter to bring the books.”

“Then who the hell did?” Ruby wanted to know, and turned in the seat until she was facing Belle. “Father Christmas?”

Belle glanced over at Ruby. “I don’t. Know,” she said with no small amount of finality.

They were silent then, and for the whole of the journey, and all the while they were loading the many boxes of books, cramming the last of them into the cab with the two of them so that Ruby ended up sitting cross legged on the seat with the boxes pressing against her bent knees, there were so many, and then Ruby stomped off up to the apartment, leaving Belle to unpack the books by herself.

By the time she had taken them in, each and every one, and stacked them beside the circulation desk the physical exertion had left her very tired, but no less irritated with her friend. She was afraid that if she went upstairs now, she would only start off another argument, and she didn’t want that. She didn’t want to make things worse.

As the same time though she’d be damned if she’d let anyone, least of all Ruby, accuse her of doing something that she really hadn’t done, and so, as petulant and childish as it might have been she made herself a little nest of cushions, and bundled together some of throws she had put in the children’s corner to keep herself warm and prepared to spend the night downstairs in the library.

She woke up the following morning, stiff and sore, and just as irritated, though not at Ruby, but at herself for behaving the way she had the night before, and so she mounted the stairs quietly after tidying away the evidence of her foolishness, and slipped into the apartment, expecting to find Ruby still sleeping on the couch.

“I owe you an apology,” Ruby’s voice, coming from the kitchen made her jump, and then look up guiltily to find her friend looking at her with a raised eyebrow that promised a different kind of ‘hard time’ that she’d be getting later.

“I do too,” she answered. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”

Ruby shook her head, “And I shouldn’t have accused you, especially when you said you hadn’t done it. You’ve never told me a lie before, why would you start now?” Belle looked down at her fingernails not quite knowing what to say, so it was Ruby that spoke again. “Anyway, I went to get breakfast this morning, to try and make up for having a go at you, and I… I bumped into Leroy. He asked if you’d picked up the books from the cannery yet, and I said—”

“It was Leroy?” Belle interjected, her surprise making her voice sound harsher than she intended.

“Yeah,” Ruby confessed. “He said he’s got contacts at the cannery that gave him Hunter’s number. Said he’d seen the names of the libraries on your notepad by the circulation desk, and… well…” Ruby shrugged.

“So Leroy arranged for Hunter to bring the books to Storybrooke?” she asked again, just to be sure she had it right.

“Yeah,” Ruby confirmed. “So… I was a bitch for no reason, and you deserve better friends, ones that trust you the way you deserve.”

“Oh, Ruby,” Belle said, finally stepping away from the front door to the apartment and letting the door close behind her, then crossed the room to hug her friend.

The days that followed were a march of opening boxes, cataloging books, and putting onto the shelves. Paige was a great help with that, at least when she wasn’t busy trying to embarrass Belle, to the point where, eventually, Belle made sure that she was the one to open the boxes first, leaving Paige to shelve the books she had already processed into the library.

The fuel for Paige’s teasing - and she was quite precocious for her age - was that in every box there was something special, obviously for Belle: a poem in some, a trinket, or a hand drawn picture in others. There were so many she didn’t quite know what to do with them. In the end she put the pictures and the poems in a small folder, which, for the moment, she kept under the shelf on the circulation desk.

There were so many books to unpack, catalog and put into circulation, and Belle wanted to get it done quickly - lest the mayor should return and find her shelves still wanting - that for at least the next few evenings, she worked well past the library’s closing time, working until her eyelids began to droop, and there was little more she could do but wearily climb the stairs to her apartment, and all but fall into bed.  A few times she walked in on Ruby with her latest fling making out on the couch, and she couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to Gus. Ruby had seemed so into him before, that Belle wouldn’t have thought that she would need to look elsewhere. Still, she had seen her with Gus, an unsavory looking, dark haired man whom she said she met at The Rabbit Hole, and even Doctor Whale.

When she asked Ruby about it one morning over breakfast, her friend shrugged, though she blushed slightly which Belle found somewhat reassuring, and said, “Just… keeping my options open.”

“I see,” said Belle, trying not to sound disapproving in any way, though she wasn’t sure she managed it. Then in a more teasing tone asked, “And am I likely to walk in on you with anyone today.

Ruby shook her head. “I don’t think so. I wasn’t planning on going anywhere today. Who knows, I might even come down and help you out in the library.”

“If you’re like,” Belle answered, with a smile, and as she passed Ruby, on her own way down to the library, she stole a piece of apple from her friend’s plate.

Belle enjoyed a busy day, with many patrons visiting the library, which kept her from doing much unpacking of new books. She didn’t mind, but it did mean that she was set up for a late night, alone in the empty library. She became so engrossed in unpacking the books that she didn’t hear the library door open behind her.

“The library hours posted on the door say ten pm, and by my estimate it is well past eleven thirty.” The voice from the doorway made her start almost violently, and knock over the stack of books beside her. She turned to see the dark shape standing in the doorway.

“Mister Gold,” she said, identifying the figure. “You startled me.”

“My apologies, Miss Marchland,” he said, “that wasn’t my intention. I merely noticed that the library lights were still switched on, and came across to make sure you were all right, and hadn’t… keeled over or anything.”

There was the barest hint of teasing in his otherwise serious tone, and Belle found herself chuckling.

“Touche,” she said softly, then as she began to stand, and gather the books that had spilled across the floor, she added, “Well, other than a near coronary from the surprise of someone suddenly speaking to me from where no one had been a moment before, I believe I’m well.”

He crossed the small space and leaned down to help collect some of the books, after a moment taking the short stack from Belle’s arms to add to his own, and placing them all on top of the desk.

“What can I do for you, Mister Gold?” Belle asked.

“Actually, Miss Marchland, I believe, rather more accurately, it’s what I can do for you,” he said, his voice like honey poured over tumbling rocks, and unbidden, Belle felt her belly, and lower still, clench tightly.