#so nice of everyone in the trial to not be standing in the way ty and sorry for pausing my rotation for 3 seconds

[waterfire1848]

AU: azula escapes the asylum becomes a vigilante akin to batman and is more effective at defeating ozai fanatics than zuko (much to his jealousy and anger when he finds out) and azula manages to fix the reputation of her nation through her vigilantism and while iroh sends agents to take her down as a threat (succeeding in imprisoning her) ty Lee and mai who have found out who the vigilante is, stand up for azula on the trial and state that most of the accusations for what she did during the war is slander. By the end of it, azula is freed and moves to Kyoshi island to live an easier life, even if the warriors hate her; she even sets up a life as a farmer/trader where she sells vegetables, fruits, teas, herbs, spices and medicine. (Tyzula endgame)

Hello, @supbro50000 !!!

1. Azula gets sick and tired of waiting for someone to let her out of the asylum so she breaks out. She frees herself then rushes to a small village outside of the capital to lay low for a while. While there, a nice family takes her in and allows her to stay. She gets food, water, a place to sleep and does some work around the house for them while she's figuring out her next move. The family that takes her in has a mom, dad and two young boys. Azula grows close to the mom in the house, who treats her like one of her own, and even spends some evenings playing with the kids outside. (Mother: I saw you playing outside with the boys. Azula: I was training. Mother: I'd love to meet whoever your parents are. Not everything has to involve training. Azula: You would not want to meet my parents. Trust me. Mother: I'm sure they can't be that bad. Azula: You'd be surprised.) Initially, Azula wants to take down Zuko and become Fire Lord again. She's just taking the time to figure out what the best way to do that is. However, one night, the village, and family that has been incredibly kind to her, are attacking by Ozai fanatics. Angered that they're hurting the people who have been kind to her (especially the mom), Azula attacks when she scares them off, revealing her blue fire and lightning. Azula doesn't try to remain in the village after this, she just gives the mom a silent nod and smile and rushes off into the forest.

2. Azula sets up base in an abandoned village that was deserted by people years ago. She hunts the various animals, collects water from the stream and buys whatever else she needs from neighboring towns to construct her base. From there, she decides to go after the Ozai fanatics who are terrorizing the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom citizens that are trying to call the Fire Nation home. She's careful, never showing her face, and hardly bends (so no one is able to see her blue flames). Wherever she goes, she takes care of the Ozai fanatics with ease because they don't know how to fight a sane Azula, no one does. She's hurt from time to time but never returns to her base without making sure she's gotten the fanatics to leave. As more time goes on, Azula overhears from various that the loyalists are backing down and are more and more scared to come out. Not because of Zuko's efforts but before of Azula. (EK citizen: I'm telling you. My fiance and I were terrified of staying in the Fire Nation last year. She wants to stay here cause her family is in the Fire Nation, but with the loyalists we didn't know if it would be safe for me. Azula: How horrible. Citizen: It was until that Phoenix showed up. Azula: Phoenix? Citizen: She's this fighter who's been taking down the loyalists. Everyone calls her Phoenix because someone saw her bend and the former Fire Lord wanted to be the Phoenix King so...kinda funny. Azula, smirking: I guess it is.)

3. You know who doesn't like this development? (Ozai Loyalists? Not far off, but no). Zuko. He's not against the fact that the loyalists are being taken care of (that's the only part about this that he actually likes) but he doesn't for the fact that it's some masked vigilante who's doing it. They don't know what she wants or who she's working for and that does not sit right with Zuko. One day, when Azula is fighting, Zuko happens to be nearby with Mai and they head over and see the Phoenix. (Zuko: It can’t be…) Pretty quickly they discover it’s Azula and Zuko is not happy. He believes this is all some big stunt by her to trick people or that she’s working with the loyalists in some way. Mai isn’t convinced that she’s doing that at all, but Zuko doesn’t listen. Instead, he informs Iroh about what is going and Iroh orders Yuyan archers and imperial firebenders to head out and capture Azula. During one of her fights when she’s injured, Azula drags herself back to her base and finds everyone there waiting for her. They subdue her and take her to the palace, throwing her in a cell while she awaits her trial. During this time, Mai talks to Ty Lee about Azula being the vigilante and the two come to the understanding that Azula wasn’t doing it for fame or to trick anyone because she never seems to want to do that. Even in prison, she just talks about wanting to get rid of the Ozai loyalists. The two decide that they have to do something.

4. At Azula’s trial, both for her vigilante actions and actions during the war, Mai and Ty Lee speak up for her. They argue that if she’s getting put in jail then, by logic, so should they and Iroh. (Mai: We were on her side. Everything you’re accusing her of is something we did too. Zuko: That’s different. You two- Mai: I love you, Zuko, but that’s the only reason why I defected from Azula’s team. I didn’t think the war was wrong or the Fire Nation was wrong. I did it to protect you and Ty Lee defected to protect me. Ty Lee: And if Azula deserves to be in prison for her actions then why isn’t Iroh. He tried to conquer Ba Sing Se too. Iroh: That’s different. I have realized the mistakes of my actions and deeply regret them and I’m doing what I- Ty Lee: You had time to understand that you were wrong. How long did you go on your spiritual journey? Iroh: 2 years. Ty Lee: 2 years after the war Azula was helping stop Ozai loyalists. Isn’t that a sign that she doesn’t want Ozai back? That she doesn’t want him to succeed? That she realizes her mistakes? Azula: I don’t want Ozai back. I want him gone and in prison forever and those loyalists would have prevented that from happening.) After much arguing and back and forth, Azula is released and allowed to leave the palace without issue. Azula does leave but she also realizes that the Ozai loyalists are pretty much gone now and, after the trial, she doesn’t want to remain in the Fire Nation. Ty Lee comes to her after the trial and says that she might have an idea.

5. It’s a challenge at first, living on Kyoshi Island, but Azula and Ty Lee get used to it. The Kyoshi Warriors are not fans of Azula when she first arrives, but the firebender learns to gain their trust and prove that she’s not here for any kind of malicious reason. Eventually, the girls learn to accept that Azula know lives on the island. For the sake of having something to do, Azula trains with Ty Lee in the Kyoshi Warrior style(some girls are against it but Ty Lee convinces them). Suki provides her with more than a few books about a firebender who traveled with Avatar Kyoshi who could create white fire (Azula becomes an instant fan). When Azula had mastered the Kyoshi Warrior’s way of fighting, she decides to stop fighting, taking a few years to simply rest and be free. She and Ty Lee get married when they’re both 25. By then, Azula has become a farmer and trader on the island, learning how to grow crops thanks to her neighbors and trading with Earth Kingdom coastal towns. During one of her visits, Azula notices a young girl stealing from her stand and discovers the child (about 4 or 5) is an orphan. She takes the girl back to the island and she and Ty Lee agree to adopt her. 3 years later, they adopt a Water Tribe baby boy (who is a suspected waterbender). (Katara: Not that I don’t love seeing you two with kids, but why not a firebender? Someone you could train. Azula: I was too worried I’d end up like Ozai. It might be harder for him to learn bending but at least I’ll never hurt him. He’ll be safe and loved even if he is raised by two women from the Fire Nation. Katara: Aw. That’s so sweet. I’m sure you’ll both raise him well. If you need any help with his waterbending later in life, let me know. Azula: We will. Ty Lee: *Side eyeing Azula* Katara: What? Azula: There’s a second reason we adopted him. Not nearly as important as making sure he’s loved and supported and- Katara: What? Azula: It’s hilarious watching old racist Fire Nationals at the palace almost have a heart attack when they realize their former princess is now the mother of an Earth Kingdom ‘peasant’ and a Waterbender. Katara: You know what? That is hilarious.

[asleepinawell]

[haravath0t]

The Spy’s Game - Prologue

Pairing: Noir Spy!Steve x Noir Spy!Reader

(inspired by the 1946 film, Notorious)

A/N: Well, here it is! The Prologue to “The Spy’s Game”! I am really excited for this one, you guys. As this is pretty based off of the film, Notorious, possibly my favorite Noir and Spy movie, I really look forward to mixing up my love for Old Hollywood film and the MCU into this fic, with none other than Steve Rogers himself.  I currently am still trying to see whether or not this is considered a mini-series or series yet, so let’s see where it goes. I am trying my best to have these updated on Saturdays! Honest opinions along with comments, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Happy readings, lovlies! 

Los Angeles, California - April 14,1946 - 3:23 PM

Ms. (L/N)! Over here, Ms. (L/N)! Can we get a statement from you about your father?” 

“Do you think your father got what he deserved for working with Hydra?” 

“Ms. (L/N)! Could we say that you are pleased to hear that your father has a life sentence in prison for treason?” 

You were blinded by the numerous amount of flashes directed towards you since you got out of the courthouse. Not a word was said from you as you made your way down the stairs amidst the chaos of photographers and reporters, clutching onto your bag. Your entourage guides you and covers you as you make your way to your car, looking down, not one word to anybody. 

Little did you know certain pairs of eyes were on you and that life had other expectations from you.

“That’s the woman we travelled across the country to see. I expect you to keep watch on her, Agent Rogers. See if she leaves town.”

—————-

A few days had passed since your father had been sentenced to prison, but the press was still onto you, trying their hardest to get a word from you. The policemen that followed you to your house was enough to take you and your father’s story to the front page, and you wanted to get away from the whole reality of it all. 

So, in your own fashion, you threw a little party for you and your inner circle of friends in the comfort of your home in LA, drunkenly laughing along with friends as you poured more liquor into their glasses. It was a chaotic yet joyous sight for you, for everyone seemed to be having a good time. Drunken conversations took place everywhere, from those slouching over the dining table in the kitchen to even the couples that were tipsy as they danced to records in the living room. You giggled as you sloppily poured more drinks for those in the living room. 

“Say, Y/N, were you really followed by the police? Read it on the paper. Sounds exciting doesn’t it?” A woman sloppily calls out from her partner’s shoulder.

“Ahh, those annoying policemen. They never...never got enough of me even before the trial.” You start, attempting to pour out another drink for another man sitting on the couch. 

“But I suppose the only way I’m gonna get rid of them is just by shooting it out,” you tease, causing drunken laughs to fill the living room. “I think you’ve drank enough, Y/N, I think we all did,” another woman calls out, you can’t even bother trying to remember who it was. “Ahh, don’t say that. We haven’t even gotten to the important drinks yet,” you tease reaching over to start a new record. Everybody was still having a good time, filled with dancing and laughs, at least that’s what it seemed like. 

You saw a quiet gentleman in the corner, a mysterious, tall, burly looking man sitting by himself on the couch, watching everyone else. When did he come in? Why did he look so dashing? Well, he’s a guest, and might as well entertain the blond gentleman. His suit perfectly fit his form, a neatly done bowtie wrapped nicely around his neck and under his neat collar, but the poor man didn’t seem to have drank enough yet. You can change that.

“How about you, handsome? Care for a drink?” You ask, leaning against the armrest of the couch with the bottle of liquor on your other hand. He only stares at her with those blue eyes and nods, extending his empty glass to you, watching you as you poured. “Have we met, by any chance?” You question drunkenly. 

No response. 

So you shrug and sway your hips before sitting down next to him, observing him up close. “Hmph… doesn’t matter. I like party crashers.” 

“Oh, he’s not a party crasher, I brought him,” The woman from earlier said. Oh right, Missy was her name. “You know, Y/N. I really don’t mind if a cop had followed me,” Missy shrugs, deciding to get the bottle from you to pour herself a drink. You groaned in frustration. “I hate how normal people like you like the thought of policemen after you, whereas me, get the opposite, You know I’m a marked woman, Missy. They think I am gonna blow up New York or the Panama Canal any minute.” More and more talk came up about the trial, about the cops and you frankly couldn’t take it anymore, so you decided to cut it short, ushering the guests out, wishing them a goodnight as you do your best in your drunken state to escort them out. What a perfectly hideous party.

You close the door, to find your home now all empty, except for the tall blond guy who still sat on the same couch. A little smirk and a chuckle leaves your lips as you restart the record, turning around to see a bottle in the gentleman’s hand and two empty glasses on the table. 

“This drink hasn’t been finished yet. Such a shame, about the ice I mean.” He says, pouring the drink in the two glasses. What an interesting conversation already. 

“What do you mean?” You ask sitting on the couch across from him and taking your glass. 

“It’s gone.” 

“Who’s gone?” 

“The ice,” he says, grunting as he stands up to turn the obnoxious record that has been on repeat for hours off, making you groan in frustration. You just restarted it too. “I don’t get why you even like that record.” He huffs, taking his seat once again to take a sip. “Well, there’s nothing like a love song to give you a good laugh, you retort, taking a gulp of your glass. You liked this guy. Although you didn’t know much about the guy, it wasn’t hard to see that he was handsome despite the fact that he didn’t mingle with the crowd earlier. Your thoughts were cut off by the warmth you felt. “It’s stuffy in here.” You groan, downing the rest of your glass.

“Sure.” 

“Hmmm I am taking a liking to you. Maybe we can have a picnic.” 

“Outside?” 

“Too stuffy in here for a picnic...how are you not finishing your drink?” 

“Doesn’t do much to me, but I do like to practice some self-restraint.”

“What a boy you are,” you scoff, getting his drink and downing the rest of it before you stand up.

“My car is umm.. Outside.”

“Well I’d hope so.”

“Picnic is too much… a drive will do.”

“Fine by me.”

“I’ll drive,” You say as you lazily snatch your keys, struggling to reach for the door, but he stops you. “You need a coat, don’t you? Best if I drive as well.”

You didn’t want this guy telling you what to do. He barely even knew you. “I think you being next to me while I drive is enough warmth.” You huff as you manage to find your way to your convertible. Before you hop in, the gentleman stops you, taking his handkerchief from his pocket and tying it nicely around your collar and opening the door for you. “At least wear this then, will you?” You really just wanted this guy to stop treating you like a delicate little flower. You were getting annoyed by the second. So you drive, despite the fact that this road seemed to just go all over the place in your eyes. The car didn’t go fast enough, you thought to yourself, so you step on the gas, watching his reaction. “You don’t get scared easily do you?” You huff in annoyance. “Not too much,” he replies, although he leaves his hand on the emergency brake should something go wrong. You really intrigued him, quite enjoying himself with the way you try desperately to outdo him, and you on the other hand hated it. “65,” you huff as you look at your speedometer, only to hear the blond chuckle at your words. “Shut up. I can go 80. 85 even. Gonna make that smile go away as quickly as it came. Hate it when men like you do that to me.” You growl, stepping on the gas even harder, but it still didn’t phase the man, only watching him shrug, grin still on his face. “Can’t a guy grin?” He shrugs, smiling more when sirens are heard, adjusting the rear view mirror and taking on the wheel to pull you both over. “Look. A cop. Look at that mirror. Look.” He says, making you whine in frustration for the nth time. 

The car was still going at a fast speed, but still, the policeman was able to ride on its motorcycle towards the vehicle, right beside you. You didn’t do much but glare at them. “Listen, ma’am I think you gotta talk to that cop.” The blond chuckles, watching as you rolled your eyes. “Hate cops. The bunch makes me sick. Here we go. Drunken driving. Second offense. Now I go to jail. Along with my fucking father. Would you look at that? The entire family is in jail. What are the odds of that? Not that it matters anyway.” You mutter to yourself, annoyed as you made yourself slow down and pull over. You quickly quiet yourself as the cop hops off his motorcycle, now standing next to your side of the car. “Having a time for yourself, huh? Wanting more press, L/N?”

“You know you should be in bed. It’s late for fucks sake.” 

The policeman sighs, now talking to the gentleman next to you. “Drunk?” “Now wait a second officer,” the blond responds, digging into his pocket. “I don’t have time for your excuses sir, I-” the officer’s words cut off when he sees the identification from the man. You eye the officer, as he stops and sighs. “Sorry, if you said so earlier, I wouldn’t have pressed on.” The police officer grunts. “No trouble at all, officer. I got it under control.” The blond responds back. 

You get confused as you watch the cop salute the gentleman next to you before riding off in the distance, making you look at what the gentleman was holding, trying your hardest to focus your vision, until it does. And your eyes widen before they turn into ones of anger and disbelief. “Where’s the ticket? I should have gotten one. Tell me your name.” You tell the man angrily, as he returns the item to his pocket. 

“Rogers.”

“You showed him a badge didn’t you? That’s why he saluted you and went off!” 

“I don’t think so.” “You son of a bitch! You’re a fucking bastard!” You say, throwing punches in anger while he effortlessly blocks them. “We can argue later. I’ll drive us back, Miss L/N.” 

“No you won’t! Can’t believe it! A fucking federal agent! Crashing my party! You want something from me!” You continue to fight, him only blocking your punches until you suddenly calm down. “Good. Calm? Okay, I’ll take you back hom-” You started throwing punches again, a little off, but still powerful despite your drunken state. “No, you’re not, the only way you will is through knocking me unconscious! But you do know the way I work don’t you? You know how har-”

“Don’t make me do this.” Steve groans as he dodges and blocks. 

“Hard it is to get by me you hear?! You’ve heard of how-” Your rambled monologue gets cut off when he manages to lift you up and push you towards the passenger’s side, knocking you out in the process by your head accidentally banging against the headrest. Steve winced a bit, but sighed in relief when you didn’t thrash at him anymore, only breathing in and out steadily as he now takes the wheel and makes his way back home. “Really, Fury? Agent L/N? Daughter of Dr. L/N? A member of hydra? Give me a break, Steve scoffs as he turns off the engine, carefully carrying your body to your bedroom until you wake up.

Chapter 1

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[voidsentprinces]

Sorry to bang on about this again, but Stormblood is fucking weird.

We go to Ala Mhigo to liberate it but the Resistance has scarce resources and man power. Despite that we get a victory to push back a Garlean Patrol. And like...immediately despite the Skull reports in the Peaks. Raubahn thinks its best we push for the Bridge despite Rhalgr’s Reach’s flank being clearly open.

After a massacre lead by Zenos puts a pin on the whole Ala Mhigan revolution. Our plan becomes: go to Doma and release it from Garlean rule. Which takes the form of the Pirates of the Ruby Sea pushing the Garleans back into Yanxia. Yanxia is like one village and an underground spy network against a well entrenched Garlean Force. But because this time Zenos is super bored and has part of his helm broken. He just abandons the insurrection and leaves it to Yotsuyu. A woman who he abuses physically and mentally for the fun of it and who has been set on a war path due to the wrongs Doman society has inflicted against her as well as her family and because Zenos wanted to see what she’d do with power. Despite having all the time in the world to nip the Namai insurrection in the bud, she sends her Roe bodyguard who isn’t exactly the Garlean Caesar to push into unfamiliar territory with a sizeable but not overwhelming Garlean Force. To hunt the Warrior of Light and hope that the natives don’t take offense to an army just willy nilly waltzing into its territory.

Speaking of the Azim Steppe, Hien meets us, goes hunting with us, and then decides to use us as a bargaining chip along with his friendship with the Mol. To force himself into a sacred culturally significant battle of the clans to crown head leader of the Steppe. While doing this, Gosetsu of all people becomes super narrow minded. In a world of giant fly metal ships, spirits, mythlogical and demonic beings, and the fucking Warrior of Light. Gosetsu draws the line in his belief at a singular, diminished clan of Au Ra who believe in direct reincarnation. Which he openly besmirches in front of them all and...truth be told I don’t think he ever makes amends or wraps his head around by the time we do leave the Steppe.

The Garlean force is destroyed and pushed back but like I said, while it was a sizeable force it was by no means their entire fucking force. There was nothing stopping them from just sending a bigger force against the Namai village and drawing out the House of the Fierce forces nearby. But no I guess just tying a bunch of explosives to the Doman Castle on the off chance you could kill Hien was just the best possible option. So the battle of Doma Castle goes down and we leave Hien to rebuild a castle and retake any outlying Castrums, by himself.

Get back to Ala Mhigo, who have not really gained any new resources or man power. But at least Thancred is here now and the Scions have pitched in. The Scions being...a very small rag tag group of people. Who were outsmarted like four times by a very arrogant man, his obviously on a pay roll Lalafell commander, and a dude who couldn’t even be trusted to handle Garlean shipments let alone be considered a good candidate for Crystal Braves. But because Zenos has become lethargic and even though he has a Scion hostage. He just sits back as we take a bridge, the entirety of the the Peaks, push the entirety of forces back to the Lochs and practically snuff or capture them there. Handing control over to Fordola. Who he’s seen is socially and mentally abused and made a pariah in the Garlean and Ala Mhigan ranks before...also giving her power to see what the fuck would happen....fucking christ.

We accomplish this all without the help of the Domans who we went to liberate for the purpose of having their man power to help take back Ala Mhigo. In fact, we get 3.9/4 way through the recapture before they show up to help us with. *checks notes* Taking care of a small force of Lupin Beastmen...and some flying Garlean Machinery. With no guarantee that we would even be able to best Zenos. Who diminishes his own power by fusing with a Primal which we are practically masters at fighting at this point. Only for Zenos to cope out at the last moment securing victory for Ala Mhigo. Because we gave Zenos mouth bleed.

After successfully taking out Garlemald in Doma and Ala Mhigo. Alphinaud takes a victory lap by going with Arenvald on a treasure adventure. Which funds the reconstruction of Ala Mhigo. We then decide to take an already Pariah Fordola and put an explosive on her neck if she even thinks of betraying us. Before throwing her at some Primals. Cause she goes a sharingan now, giving her the Echo which is...Hydaelyn Tempering for all intents and purposes. Sending her to fight Gods. During this down time we also secure a Salt trade deal between Ala Mhigo and Ul’dah. Allowing for the transfer of leadership between Raubahn stepping down as the Flame General to leave to his people. A situation which you would of thought the Monetarists would of taken advantage of. But, I guess because we consulted Godbert and Lolorito. I guess they ain’t gonna do nothin.

We do however do something useful in helping teach Meffrid’s friend how to defeat the Loch’s marauding creatures. Before going back to learn off screen two of the worst people in the world, who also were responsible for the Crystal Braves betrayal and the sacrifice of hundreds on Baelsar’s Wall. Have now been side line to being arrested off screen and thus far are never seen or heard from ever again.

We then invite Tempered Beastmen to a peace meeting and act surprised when they summon Lakshmi to summon everyone. Lyse then runs to get Fordola to help on a gambit and gets there and back to the Throne Room faster than we can fly to the Ala Mhigan Quarter and back. We then run off to Doma because Gosetsu might be alive, Alphinaud racks up a huge bill with the Scions by buying a sword. We then fight off an invading force of Garleans before ferrying an amnesiac Yotsuyu and crippled Gosetsu across the Ruby Price. Whose pirates are nice enough not to fucking charge us for damages rendered. We then don’t force one of Yotsuyu’s past abusers to stand trial because he was kind of useful to the Doman Spy Network erasing all wrong doings. I fucking guess.

We are then visited by Asahi who might as well of shown up mustache twirling. Because after learning from one of her past abusers that Yotsuyu was sold to a brothel by her parents. How the fuck would you ever even begin to consider talking with her brother? But fine, I guess you needed the Doman people taken to Garlemald. Which, Asahi does eventually bring. Only to find out, he brought a bunch of crystals with him to turn his sister into a Primal.

After both are dead. Alphinaud, despite knowing that the Ascian possessed Zenos has just sent Asahi to kill them. Decides to go back with the unpopular Popularis to try to be diplomatic with ASCIAN POSSESSED ZENOS in the fucking court. Alphinaud also clearly forgetting how peace-forward the Emperor was when we both ran into him back in the Sea of Clouds.

...this story...is fucking baffling.

I might be forgetting a few details...maybe I am missing something that makes some part of this make sense.

[gingus-doon]

For AUs... How about an AU where Keiji and Megumi both survive the First Trial? I'd like your take on that :)

you have opened pandora's box! i hope you're prepared to read a whole ass essay JSHDKABD

BUT SERIOUSLY TY THIS IS SO INTERESTING!! i saw your post on this already and commented on it then (in the tags ofc JGVKDDJDJ), bUT that was the meta of yours that inspired me to think that, maybe, keiji wouldn't be the way he is without that particular first trial and its outcome..? so i'll be operating under that assumption for these scenarios, so as not to feed a fed horse! (as peta would say,)

this does seem like quite the task, considering that it would require both conceptualizing megumi when we have minimal information about her, and reconceptualizing keiji to the keiji before the death game, when we also have minimal information on how he thinks in general... (and his characterization in this is all based on a theory to begin with, so it's not the most steady foundation lol)

of course, their first trial would need to be something else for this au… to keep things simple, it'd be best if it was neutral– neither him saving or not saving megumi, to neither restore nor forsake his faith in himself. megumi saving him would probably leave some positive impression of her on him too, so a trial which includes none of those things would be mosy fitting. but the trial itself isn't what's interesting, so i won't go into it further djdksbdk.

assuming they don't have a trial together, they'd meet each other the first time with everyone else-- i'm sure megumi would recognize keiji after the initial shock of how different he looks. and even if keiji tried to distance himself from her, she'd mention she knows keiji right away. i do think she'd have quite a bit of logic in her, but not an unsympathetic amount! however, she has been shown to throw morality to the wind when protecting keiji in the past (though asunaro may have been involved in the coverup in ways we don't yet know), so i think she'd do something similar here. she'd say she knows him and possibly that he's a police officer to solidify his standings amongst the other participants, assuming that keiji doesn't lie for himself first.

speaking of what keiji would do… so, i'm reconceptualizing him as more solemn and maybe a bit less guarded? however, it's also important to keep some level of his chill with his stupid grin and avoidance, because that constitutes a large part of how he copes with his trauma. a keiji wrestling between solemn genuineness and avoidant nonchalance, protector and sacrificer, logic and emotion! a mid-way between the two extremes of before the shooting and during the normal death game. definitely more stoic, though… less smiley but not brooding either. i think a more stoic, perhaps more reserved personality pre-death game would make a lot of sense for keiji, considering that he has absolutely no friends.

BUT ANYWAY!! back to what i was saying– i think megumi would lie in keiji's favour, because she wants to get him out of there alive (sympathetic megumi ftw!) but she may hold it over his head a bit, if only to keep him in line with her plans by means of guilt. it's worth it, though, if she can make up for what happened with the shooting– really, she couldn't believe it when she saw keiji! after he quit, i bet they'd barely seen each other since. the bags under his eyes make his face look so gaunt and haunted compared to how he was when he was a kid…

she still treats him like a kid, too. they slowly fall into the mentor-pupil relationship again they had before, by habit, like ancient cogs beginning to turn for the first time in years. but, this isn't all easygoing, of course.

i don't think megumi would apologise for the coverup. at least, not right away. she seemed very keen on ignoring it back when the shooting happened, so despite any guilt she'd have around the incident, she doesn't bring it up. keiji's somewhat content to keep it that way as well, considering that facing what he did would shatter him. but being with megumi is like facing the shooting… i'm sure being with her like that would bring up bad memories and relight slumbering resentment. he'd eventually want an apology, an explanation, something… how soon "eventually," would be, though, i'm not sure. especially considering that keiji wants to survive, and megumi will help him do that.

though, i think keiji's will to live in this scenario would be a little weaker, oddly enough. because when he kills megumi, that plunges him into the confirmation of himself as a sinner-- he has more to run from, and if he's killed two people now for the sake of his well-being (first because he feared for his life, second in hopes of being rid of his trauma), why not do it again? he's not going to dwell on it anyway, he's not going to look…

but keiji in this scenario is wrestling with himself. he'd still like to be a protector. maybe… it's still possible? maybe he's not damned just yet? maybe there's worth in sacrificing his life for the more vulnerable.

and that internal conflict could potentially clash harshly against megumi's goals of getting them out alive by any means necessary. she's not malicious, and she wouldn't try to get someone killed for the fuck of it, but when it comes down to it, she's just there for them.

i do think megumi would feel guilty for the children, though… gin and kanna are so young. sara is so bright-eyed and clever, it almost reminds her of what keiji was like back then… but she's willing to shoulder the guilt of murder for keiji this time, if only to finally atone for what she did to him and to save herself as well.

there's a few ways this could go though!! i have about four. 1) megumi is ruthlessly logical as keiji is in the actual game, and keiji goes along with it for the sake of his own survival. they end up being the sole survivors of the death game; keiji hates megumi and is entirely broken // 2) same as the last one except the rest of them thwart megumi and keiji's evil plans and maybe keiji and / or megumi die.. :v // 3) megumi is still ruthlessly logical BUT keiji's resentment of megumi and his morals push him away from her and he works against her to protect everyone // 4) megumi starts out logically, but noticing how keiji has changed as a result of his trauma and how cold he's become (she can see the same strains of her "forget morality, save yourself" logic in him and some of his decisions) she decides to let herself fall to emotion and either sacrifices herself for keiji or someone else.

and, some misc. things i didn't get to mention above....!!

i REALLY loved your idea of megumi being team mom. with the above in mind, it's exactly parallel to keiji's role in the normal death game! a should-be protector wracked by guilt who abuses their power regardless. and to think of keiji potentially taking on the role of the abuser while also possibly being one of the vulnerable underneath the force of that power… it's just really interesting!

depressing parallels aside though, i think megumi would be a nice sensible mom figure for this group of idiots sjfhddj. maybe a little blunt or initially distant, but ultimately caring.

as for her role in a wider sense, i think megumi would actually be more trustworthy than keiji is in the normal death game. although she has the disadvantage of sexism working against her, she's actually in a police outfit and lacks the shady appearance. i'm certain she could conduct herself in a way that would garner everyone's trust-- she wouldn't have any questions she needed to dodge like keiji in the main game, unless keiji brought up the shooting, but even then, that's much less severe than murder. there wouldn't be any creepy flirting with her either, not only because there's no questions to dodge in the first place, but i think she'd opt to use her authority to harshly shut down any opposition, like she did with keiji after the shooting. and when that fails, she'd fall back on logical and / or manipulative rebuttals. i also think a large part of why nao and reko specifically don't like keiji is because he's a man! a creepy man at that, and that feeling really is justified, but the point is that megumi's a woman, a respectable woman, so they wouldn't have the same qualms with her. she could also prove herself to be a more capable leader than sara, being older and still having a cool head. she'd very much come off as a reliable leader if she tried to, i think.

but back to happier things!! i think keiji would take on a less authoritative role if under megumi's wing. it's hard to say exactly how his role would change, considering that we don't know if keiji saw the percentage papers normally, and if he did in this au, would megumi as well and would they both try to cling onto sara for survival's sake? BUT i'm not going to get into that, i just want to say that i think it'd be neat if keiji took up an older brother position to in group! kind of the same as the normal death game, except he has less control over what the group does and is more on the same standings as the other participants. i think he'd get closer to being a genuine protector in this scenario, fail sooner at his attempts to avoid emotional attachments to the other participants, and i also think he'd do a lot less of the creepy flirting!! because really, the only reason he did that anyway was to dodge questions, and that'd be a lot less necessary if 1) he had dependable megumi vouching for him from the beginning, therefore making him less suspicious to the others // 2) megumi's death would no longer be a topic of concern cos it didn't happen! // 3) if someone attempted to dig up info about his past or something of the sort, something that could get in the way of the group's trust of him and therefore keiji and megumi's chances of survival, megumi could likely shut it down as she has a good reputation amongst the group. besides, the only one who would say shit like that is shin, and people don't trust him very much anyways sjfjsbfnd.

i think keiji and sara would potentially have a less manipulative and more wholesome friendship in this au ahhh ;<;

as much as a manipulative dick megumi is to keiji in this au, she gets softer when his hallucinations seem to be affecting him more, or when he has nightmares. (CAN YOU TELL I'M A SUCKER FOR FLAWED BUT GENUINE MENTORSHIPS YET)

i've started to become STAUNCHLY AGAINST the notion that keiji killed megumi maliciously or that he would kill megumi maliciously!! because logically, it'd probably be more beneficial to have such a trustworthy ally in the death game (maybe not trustworthy to him, but to everyone else) and emotionally, I JUST THINK THEY'D HAVE BEEN CLOSE BEFORE OKAY AND I DON'T LIKE THE IDEA THAT HE'D KILL HER 😭😭 (that's more my emotions than his LOL, but i think it's so important that megumi's murder was an inactive murder that keiji was unsure of to the moment it happened and beyond!! you could say his angst about killing megumi during the 2nd main game is more about him killing another person, regardless of whether or not it was megumi, BUT i like to think the fact that it was megumi SPECIFICALLY was significant to him.) so that's why throughout i haven't really entertained the idea of him trying to kill her or anything like that, especially considering the theory i'm weaving this au under, which dictates keiji would likely be a lil softer + more emotional :>

CONSIDER,,, in that scenario i posed where megumi sacrifices herself for someone / keiji: while she's dying or before her death, she hugs keiji and tells him she's sorry, it wasn't his fault. no one's ever told him this before because he's refused to talk about what happened with anyone after her dismissal of it. after she says that, though, it feels as though he's let out a breath he's been holding for years and some of the weight of the shooting is finally gone.

that's all i can think to say at the moment, SO… to sum things up– a tl;dr, if you will--

(i never actually watched this show so pls don't kill me if the casting choices are weird 😭😭)

i hope this wasn't too derivative of yours or too horribly self indulgent to read LOL. this wasn't nearly as thorough as i could've been, but it might've been a bit much to consider more branching paths ajdbsns. thank you for letting me rant about keiji and megumi, i was thinking about them earlier today so it's nice to be given a chance to ramble about them again!!

[thepandapopo]

A Step Through Time Ch 5: Promises

Synopsis:

The one where Felix is done with his younger self being a stubborn asshole and Sophie is determined to treat her fathers equally.

OR

In which Felix confronts his younger self and have a much needed chat while Sophie, who really should never be left alone, makes a not-so-great choice. Pairing: Sylvix

Chapter Index

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5

If you had asked Ingrid a month ago if Felix would ever willingly allow someone, anyone, to touch him in even the most casual of ways, she would have laughed first, then immediately sent for Manuela because no one in their right mind would ever think such a thing.

So understandably, to say Ingrid is extremely shocked as she watches the older versions of Felix and Sylvain interact with each other is the understatement of the century.

“They’re disgustingly adorable in their own way,” Dorothea snickers from her seat on the dining hall bench beside her. “I don’t know whether I want to coo or puke.”

Ingrid wholeheartedly agrees.

Clearly fatherhood and marriage, or maybe it was being married to Sylvain of all people, has changed Felix – has made him more… domestic. The Felix and Sylvain of her timeline are already joined at the hip, regardless of how much they deny it, but married Felix and Sylvain are in a league of their own.

Everywhere Felix goes, Sylvain is always there beside him with the shorter man’s battle scarred hand tucked neatly into the crook of his right elbow, his left hand gently securing Felix’s own while also proudly showing off the glittery silver ring adoring his ring finger (his engagement ring, Ingrid reminds herself, as Sylvain had made very clear when he decided that the dining hall was a perfect place to scandalize the entire army with a borderline inappropriate kiss). And if little Sophie is with them, it is like an invisible thread ties them together, ensuring that he is standing no further than a hairs breadth apart from his husband with his daughter in his arms, or placing a hand on Felix’s lower back while he carries their little spitfire.

“I know that couples inevitably begin to adopt some of their partner’s characteristics and habits, but this is almost too much.” Ingrid frowns, finally bringing her forkful of food to her mouth after being frozen in place as she blatantly stares at the happy family. “It’s like Felix isn’t even Felix anymore.”

Across from her, Annette hums her assent. “It’s a bit unsettling, but it’s still really nice to see how happy they are. If you ask me, the really creepy thing is Sylvain’s stare. Have you seen it, yet? It’s like an exact copy of Felix.” Bits of buttery crust go flying from her fork as she waves it around to emphasize her point leaving Mercedes to pull out a handkerchief and mop up the stray crumbs that have found their way onto their once pristine table.

It’s true. Although Ingrid has not been on the receiving end of Felix’s (or Sylvain’s now, for that matter) deadpan glare for a long time, she has seen it directed at others – especially when it comes to anything regarding Sophie who is, clearly, extremely doted upon by her two fathers, even while they try to cajole her into finishing the rest of her vegetables.

“Sweetheart, you know you have to finish your meal first before you get your dessert.” Sylvain’s tone is low and chiding, but the softness of his expression very nearly undermines the authority of his words.

“I don’t wanna,” comes the sad whimper complete with puppy eyes and a wobbling lower lip. “It tastes yucky.”

“Aww, cut her some slack, guys!” Whatever else Balthus is about to say from across the table next to theirs is immediately swallowed back down when not only Felix, but Sylvain as well, levels him with a look so equally unamused that even Ingrid can feel the shiver run down her spine.

“Sophia Gabriella Fraldarius-Gautier. You know you cannot leave your seat until you’ve finished your plate.” Felix says, more stern than his husband sitting on the other side of Sophie, but still bordering the line of fond exasperation. With a grimace himself, Felix spears a few of the sprouts on his own fork and shovels them into his mouth.

“Papa is also eating them too, see? You can be a good girl and finish your food too, right, Princess?” Sylvain smiles affectionately but his voice is strained. It’s been the better part of an hour now that he has tried bargaining with his daughter and even the most patient of fathers has a limit. His eyes meets Felix’s briefly as an unspoken message flits between them before Felix nods stiffly and chimes in again.

“If you promise to be good and finish your vegetables for the rest of this month, we will think about letting you go see the market that is passing through town.”

Clearly, it is an effective bait and Sophie’s eyes light up like it’s Yule and her birthday all rolled into one.

“Really?!”

This is news to Ingrid. The last time Annette and Mercedes had mentioned it in passing to future Felix and Sylvain, testing the waters to see if they would be amenable to allowing them to take Sophie, it had resulted in a resounding ‘no’ and one teary child.

“This is war, Annie.” Felix had said in a no nonsense tone after a sniffling Sophia had been carted off to check out the pastries fresh from the kitchen. “She has only known a time of peace. Sophie doesn’t understand how dangerous it can be going out somewhere even as simple as a market in times of unrest.”

“But it’s not like we’d let her go by herself!” Annette argued. “We would be with her the whole time!”

“It’s not your babysitting skills that we’re worried about, Annie.” Sylvain said. His lips quirked upwards in a small smile that did little to lessen the gravity of his expression. “Sophie has a tendency to be ah, a bit of a curious child.”

Felix snorted. “Like someone I know,” he muttered under his breath.

“And so,” Sylvain continued, completely ignoring the barb from his husband even though he knows that later on in the privacy of their own room, he’ll get into how the curiosity may have come from him, but the utter fearlessness and stubborn will to do her own thing one hundred percent came from Felix. “Sophie has a bad habit of wandering off. Goddess knows she’s done it loads of times whenever Felix or I take her down to our local market. The only difference is that everyone there knows who she is and at the end of the day, nothing bad ever happens to her and she comes home with a treat or two and a pat on the head.”

“Well then, we can just hold her hand!” Mercedes says like it is the simplest solution in the world.

“We’ve tried that. We’ve tried literally everything under the sun short of actually tying her to us physically with a rope.”

“But what about-“

“No means no, Annette. We will not argue with you about this. It’s not safe.”

“But Feeelix-!”

And that was the end of that conversation. At least, until now.

But then again, Felix willingly reopening a topic he had previously considered closed is probably one of the lesser odd things that have been happening recently.

“Nuh uh, little missy. All your vegetables means all of them.” Sylvain scrapes the larger bits and pieces of vegetables dotting Sophie’s plate to the center, much to her dismay. The scraps amount to a decent pile of greens and not for the first time, Ingrid realizes just how wily and intelligent Sophie really is.

Raising a daughter with the will of Felix and the looks and intelligence of Sylvain will surely be a trial in itself, but that’s not a problem for Ingrid to worry about. Right now, she just has to worry about making herself scarce when Sylvain and Felix approach Mercie and Annie before she gets dragged into it as well.

----

“Why can’t Daddy come with us?” Sophie asks. Her eyes are wide and sad and Felix will never get used to how it makes his heart wrench. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, baby. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Sylvain crouches so that he’s eye level with his teary daughter. “Daddy has to go to an important meeting with Uncle Dima, Uncle Claude, and Auntie By. But I’ll come find you and Papa if we finish early.” Sylvain smooths back the unruly crimson curls that are already starting to come out of the half updo that Felix had put in this morning. After years of doing his daughter’s hair, Felix has resigned himself to always fixing it halfway through the day lest it becomes a true bird’s nest at night after the wild adventures to be had.

“Promise?” Her lower lip is wobbling and Felix is starting to think that perhaps Sophie is a lot more aware of her influence on others than they think she is.

“I promise, sweetheart.” Sylvain smiles at his daughter before turning his eyes to Felix, a mischievous glint shining through. “Your Papa can vouch that I never break a promise.”

The wink Sylvain throws at him is met with an eyeroll and scoff, but Felix cannot stop the small quirk of his lips. Sylvain has always come through with his promises, both to him and to their daughter. It’s one of the things that Felix loves so dearly about Sylvain after all – there is nothing in the world that he values more than the trust of his family and friends.

“Sophie, go check to make sure you’ve packed your coin purse and a snack. I need to speak with your father for a bit. I’ll meet you at the gates with Auntie Annie and Mercie, okay?”

Sophie doesn’t need to be told twice. She is already vibrating off the walls, eager to get going and visit the market that she has been dying to see. “Yes, Papa. Daddy, I hope you come soon! I’ll buy you a present, so make sure you hurry, okay?”

Felix and Sylvain both watch as their daughter scurries away, red hair flying behind her as she weaves through the mid morning crowd to join Annette and Mercedes standing at the foot of the stairs leading to the Entrance Hall. When she arrives with a hop and skip, Felix finally feels the knot that has been building in chest since that morning abate slightly.

“Hey.”

Felix jolts at the warm hand that cups his elbow. “It’s okay, Fe. She’ll be safe with you. We’re not going to lose her.”

“I know.” Felix huffs, taking a step forward so he can rest his forehead in the dip of Sylvain’s collar. “It’s just... I can’t help but worry.”

Sylvain chuckles, “I get it, Fe. She’s certainly got enough mischief in her to always keep us on our toes. I don’t think she’ll ever grow out of it, to be honest. Goddess knows I dread the day when I’m going to have to beat back suitors and stop her from sneaking out to gallivant with stable boys.”

“There will be no gallivanting with anyone. Period. I would prefer not to stab someone less than half my age.”

“Oh, but baby you look so hot when you’re all riled up and murderous.” The shiver that runs down Felix’s spine is undeniable and after a lifetime together, Sylvain would know the effect he has on his husband even if it weren’t for the hand sliding to wrap around his waist and the other reaching up to cup a smooth, pale cheek.

“Fuck you.” There’s no venom behind his words. Only the breathy whisper of comfort borne from unshakeable trust and love.

“Gladly, but alas I have a meeting to get to.” The red head lets out a full belly laugh and ignores the half-hearted smack from Felix (which still smarts, because Felix at half strength is still stupidly strong with his damn training regimen).  “Are you going to talk to your younger self today?”

The atmosphere takes on a decidedly more sombre note, but it’s a necessary topic.

Felix nods. “Yeah. Annie convinced him to come with us to the market to check out the blacksmith.”

“I’m sorry I can’t come. It would be easier if I were the one to talk to him, but…”

“It’s fine,” Felix shakes his head. “The next battle at Fort Merceus is important and you were a big part of the strategizing. You need to be there to make sure they make the right decisions.”

“Even still. Talking to your younger self about feelings is going to be like pulling teeth. I should know. I’m your very own Felix-whisperer after all.” Sylvain closes his eyes and lets his forehead drop to rest against Felix’s; his soft breath tickling the midnight bangs framing his husband’s visage. “Our younger selves need all the help they can get. Sothis… I don’t remember us being such a disaster.”

“Neither do I, and yet here we are stuck trying to convince our younger counterparts that the other is very much interested.”

“For the record,” Sylvain smirks. The hand that was previously wrapped around Felix’s waist is now slowly drifting lower. “I’d like to say that I’m still very much interested.”

“Pinch my ass in public and you’ll lose your hand.”

“Aw, Fe. You’re no fun!”

It’s the twitch of Felix’s cheek that betrays his amusement. “Tch. Insatiable.”

----

Awkward.

That’s the only way that Felix can even begin to describe the odd, tense energy that weighs down their group as they walk leisurely down the long winding roads descending from Garreg Mach.

To be fair, most of the awkwardness is in part due to Felix’s refusal to speak to his younger self, instead choosing to contentedly watch Sophie hop and skip around the flowers dotting their path. Ever since Sylvain’s decision to completely disregard time travel etiquette, the younger Felix had made himself scarce, pointedly avoiding him and his husband as if afraid that he would catch feelings simply by being around them.

Ha. That fucker was already head over heels in love no matter how much he denied it.

“Sophie, when we get to the market, will you go with Annie and Mercie while I visit the blacksmith please?” Felix says it quiet enough that it sounds like it is a private conversation, but in the silence of the forest around them, it easily carries.

Sophie blinks, confused, but acquiesces. “Okay.”

Felix smiles and pats her head. He can practically feel the suspicion and irritation rolling off his younger self in waves, but he can’t really bring himself to care.

He needs to address this issue now because Felix knows better than anyone else just how obstinate he can be, and if he’s right, there’s a very good chance that this younger version of himself will take his feeling for Sylvain with him to the grave out of pure stubbornness.

So when they finally arrive to the market, Felix doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he wants to talk to his counterpart – alone. He kneels and gives Sophie a quick hug after he makes her promise again to not wander off by herself before standing off to the side in the direction of the blacksmith, his arms crossed and waiting patiently while he watches young Felix scowl at the sheer number of people around.

A brusque nod from young Felix and suddenly they are face to face, and there is no denying the discomfort starting to roil in his gut.

Maybe he should have waited for Sylvain to talk to him after all.

“Well? Spit it out.” Despite asking Felix to talk, his younger self pushes past him roughly and begins stalking towards their destination.

“Stop being so stubborn.” Young Felix whirls around at him with a look of incredulity.

“Being ‘stubborn’?” He glowers. “I’m not being stubborn. I’m not being anything except for a pawn of fate apparently because my whole damn future has already been decided for me!”

Ah. So that is the core of the problem. “Your future hasn’t been decided. That’s the whole point of me being here – so that we can make sure that things do happen as they originally went.”

“Oh, so I’m just supposed to accept the fact that my life becomes sickeningly domestic –“ he all but spits the word out like poison, “- and I’m trapped in a life that I never wanted?”

Felix narrows his eyes. “So you’re saying you don’t want this life? You don’t want peace for Fodlan? You don’t want to actually feel happy for the first time your goddamn life since Glenn died?”

“Who the fuck are you to say whether I’m happy or not? I’m happy when I have a blade in my hand, not when I’m being carted around like a… like a stupid trophy wife!”

“First of all,” Felix is proud of how level his voice comes out despite his urge to throttle the man in front of him, “I’m you, so of course I know what you want. I lived that life already.”

He pauses for a bit and then decides to go for a different angle – one that he knows has always worked with him when Sylvain tries to talk him down from stabbing some of the more pompous nobles during trade talks.

He takes a deep breath to ground himself. “But you’re still you. I can’t say I know exactly what you’re feeling, but I can imagine because at the core of everything, I know what I used to be like back then. And I also know that no matter what timeline I exist in, there will always be one thing that remains constant.”

It’s true. There is one truth that Felix knows will span the test of time and space no matter what version of himself he is dealing with.

“…Are you ever going to tell me what it is?” Young Felix mutters angrily, breaking their brief standstill.

Marriage really has made him soft, Felix thinks as he feels the corners of his mouth curl up in a smile. He can practically hear Sylvain in his head telling him about how he probably has his ‘dopey love face’ on right now and his eyes are all ‘melted amber’. What a sentimental fool.

“I think you know.”

“Ugh,” Young Felix scowls and turns away to glare at the bucket of swords in front of the blacksmith’s stall. It’s an admission if Felix has ever heard one, and he knows that his younger self does know.

Despite what the majority of Fodlan thinks, Felix is quite capable at reading people’s emotions. He knows when people feel uncomfortable or when they might need a kind word, but for the most part, he just doesn’t care enough to coddle them because he knows it will only do them more harm than good. Which is exactly why he decides to jump straight to the truth.

“It’s okay to love him, you know.”

Young Felix freezes. The stiff set of his shoulders hunch up almost protectively and he stubbornly stays facing away from him.

“I know…” Felix swallows the lump in his throat, “I know that it’s hard to even think about letting anyone in after Glenn – how hard it is to trust someone enough and believe that they won’t just leave you like everyone else inevitably does.”

Felix touches the obsidian ring on his left hand. He spins it absently and the smooth slide of the black band against his hand grounds him.

“Mother… Glenn… and then Father…” Felix has long made his peace with his father’s death, but there is still the faintest of stings in his heart when he thinks about it. “They all left us. But Sylvain has always been there. He was there when Mother died. He stayed with us for weeks after Glenn died. And he never pitied or babied us when Father died. He was just there.”

It’s a bit hazy, most memories from the war blur together honestly, but Felix does remember the days after the battle at Gronder with crystal clarity – those few painful days after his father’s sacrifice. No matter how many times he told Sylvain to leave, no matter how he yelled at him or tried to chase him away, Sylvain stood by him, steadfast and most importantly, without judgement.

He simply let Felix be.

And that was exactly what he needed.

“He’s the biggest idiot in Fodlan, but you and I both know that Sylvain does everything in his power to care for his friends and family.” Felix says it like it like he’s stating the obvious. “He’s also irresponsible and completely reckless, and Goddess knows that moron wouldn’t sustain half of his injuries if he just trained more, but he does remember our promise. And he’s doing his best to keep it while also making sure we stay alive.”

Felix steps forward so that he’s now standing side by side with his younger self. From his peripheral vision, he can see the furrowed brow and tightly pursed lips that he knows only happens when he begrudgingly agrees.

“I know you don’t believe in a fated future. Honestly, neither do I. But if there’s one thing I can tell you for certain, it is that loving Sylvain, and being loved in return, is the best thing that will ever happen to you.” Felix allows the warmth in his chest to bloom. While that feeling may have scared him once upon a time, he’s learned to become fond of it because he knows that the only reason he can feel this way is because he has come so far and conquered all his demons along the way.

“You’re disgustingly sentimental.”

“Maybe so, but I can still kick your ass.”

Young Felix snorts, “maybe then I’d actually have a good spar for once that isn’t against the professor.”

Felix laughs quietly, the heavy weight on his chest lifting just as the tension eases out of Young Felix’s stance. The truth is out there, and at least his younger self isn’t denying things anymore, but ultimately it will be up to Young Felix to decide the path he wants to take.

Felix Fraldarius is many things, but most importantly he is not a coward, which is why despite not having verbally settled the matter with his younger self, he knows with absolute certainty that Young Felix will never turn away from Sylvain, especially not when he’s been given permission to chase that happiness that he’s longed for.

----

Sophie decides very quickly that the market is her new favourite place. Forget the kitchens and all their yummy baked treats, the marketplace has all that and more.

Everywhere she looks, there is something new to see. Stalls upon stalls are lined with various treasures and fancy looking things that no amount of tears would help escape the wrath of her fathers if, by some stroke of bad luck, she is unfortunate enough to break them.

“Auntie Mercie! Look, Balloons!”

Sophie tugs on the healer’s hands eagerly, careful not to let go and wander off though there is a tiny whisper in her heart that tempts her so. The large inflated animals sway merrily in the breeze, and with the hustle and bustle of the environment around them, it almost looks as if they are dancing with excitement.

“Oh, aren’t they adorable? Would you like one, Sophie?” Mercedes claps her hands together, looking just as delighted as Sophie feels and soon, the trio of females is making their way through the surprisingly large crowd that has gathered for this lively gathering as a reprieve from the war.

“The fox,” Sophie pulls on Mercedes’ hand even more urgently the closer they get. “I want the fox, please, Auntie Mercie!”

“What about the cat, Sophie? That’s one is pretty cute.” Annette giggles. The red headed mage ducks and peers left and right at the variety of floating animals attached to the belt of the balloon vendor. There is already a gaggle of children forming around the man as he hands ribbons off to parents in exchange for gold, and although Sophie feels like she might burst if she has to wait any longer, she knows to wait her turn for the man to address her.

“Hello there, young miss. And what can I get for you today?” When the man finally turns his kind face towards her, Sophie cannot tear her eyes away from her goal. “Perhaps a bird? Or maybe a puppy?”

Sophie’s voice comes out breathy and excited. Reaching a hand up, she points eagerly, “the fox please. Can I have the fox?”

“Of course! Why don’t you reach out your hand for me and I’ll tie it to your wrist?”

Obediently, Sophie sticks out her left arm and watches, enraptured as the white ribbon loops delicately around her wrist, loose enough that she can slip her hand out if she really wanted to, but tight enough that the balloon will not fly away. Reaching into the small coin purse attached to her hip, Sophie carefully counts out the appropriate amount and hands them over.

“Thank you!” Sophie calls out after the vendor as Annette and Mercedes begin leading her away from the throng. It’s much too crowded now, but the little Fraldarius-Gautier cannot help but feel comforted by her floating guardian. Papa did always say that her Daddy was ‘sly as a fox’ after all, and it feels like her father is there with her when she sees it.

“Do you think Daddy will like it?” Sophie mumbles shyly when they’ve walked far enough that the screams of delighted children are nothing more than a whisper in the distance.

“I’m sure Sylvain will love it!” Mercedes says sweetly. The healer looks at Sophie with a mixed expression, almost like she is trying to solve a puzzle that she can’t quite figure out, before Annette interrupts her with a gasp.

“Mercie, there’s the sweets vendor that we’ve been looking for!”

Sweets? Sweets are good. That sounds like something Sophie is definitely interested in.

“Come on,” Annette urges. She grabs Mercedes by the hand and by extension, also Sophie, who is clutching onto her other one, and she drags them with haste towards a brightly colored stall laden with pastries and sweet treats of all kinds.

The saccharine smell wafting from the baked goods makes Sophie’s mouth water, but her eyes dart from one flamboyantly decorated cupcake to another, helplessly unable to pick a favourite.

“Hey! I remember you two!” The friendly looking lady behind the counter smiles as they approach. “You ladies came by my stall the last time I was in town, didn’t you?”

Annette flushes and nods. “The sweets were so good, we just had to make a return visit and pick up some more!” Despite her embarrassment, she is already reaching out to grab a fluffy looking cream pastry that looks more like a cloud than anything else.

“I’m so glad you like them, miss. Business has slowed down recently because of the war. Not much extra money to go towards frivolous things like sweets anymore, you know?” Sophie frowns. War? What war?  “Regular patrons like you are always appreciated.”

“Oh, and look at you, you sweet little thing,” Suddenly the attention is turned towards Sophie and any lingering confusion flies out the window. “What’s your name?”

“My name is Sophie!” With her fathers’ voices in the back of her head telling her to mind her manners, Sophie flashes her brightest smile and bobs gracefully into a quick curtsey. “It’s very nice to meet you. Your sweets look so yummy!”

“They’re the best in all of Fodlan, that’s for sure!” The kind looking lady proudly puffs her chest. “Have you ever tried some, little miss? Since it’s your first time, why don’t you go pick one and I’ll let you try it on the house.”

“Really?” Sophie’s eyes round with excitement. Daddy was right – being well mannered really does bring good things!

There are so many choices to choose from that it feels a little bit overwhelming, but eventually a beautiful deep red velvet cupcake topped with a mountain of chocolate frosting and a small candied cherry catches Sophie’s eye.

She likes cherries. She likes cupcakes. That’s two in one, isn’t it? It’s a perfect deal.

“Good choice, little miss. That’s our red velvet cupcake with black forest icing. It’s one of our more popular cakes; especially with the ladies.” The sweets lady holds out the cupcake to her and Sophie quickly lets go of Mercedes’ hand to receive it.

The monstrosity of a cupcake is so large that it takes Sophie both hands to hold it, taking great pains to not drop it nor smear any icing on her dress. She still remembers the scolding Papa had given her over the grass and mud stains in her dress a couple of weeks ago and is not eager to repeat that experience.

Above, her red fox sways gently to and fro, moving every time Sophie maneuvers her hands to nibble away at equal parts frosting and icing. She has long since tuned out from the conversation between the nice sweets lady and Mercedes and Annette, instead choosing to savor and enjoy her treat while it lasts.

Sophie is halfway done her cupcake when a raucous of children shrieking with delight steals her attention back in the direction of the balloon man. There, in the middle of a cluster of children stands a rather short and odd-looking man carting around a small trolley packed with stuffed animals, and at the very bottom, shoved against a dopey looking tiger and a rather ferocious lion is a black cat stuffy, complete with slitted golden eyes stitched painstakingly above some wiry whiskers and a kitten pout.

It’s the most wonderful stuffed kitty Sophie has ever seen. She has a present for Daddy, but what about Papa? Surely Papa would also like a gift – it’s only fair since Daddy gets one, right? Right. Her fathers had always taught her to treat everyone equally, and Sophie feels like that must include her family as well.

Annette and Mercedes are still engrossed in conversation with the Sweets Lady, but now their arms are full of bags laden with goodies they are no doubt brining back to the monastery. An itch like no other claws its way up Sophie’s chest and she really, really wants to ask for permission to go see the toy merchant, but she doesn’t want to interrupt what looks to be a very lively conversation.

One quick glance back makes the anxiousness double as the man begins to move towards an intersection across the courtyard from them. If he goes any further, he will turn the corner and Sophie will lose sight of him.

The gleeful squealing of laughter is getting farther and farther away now. She really should tell Mercedes and Annette where she is going, but she’s running out of time and Sophie will be absolutely heartbroken if her Papa is sad that he did not get a gift from her as well.

It will only be for a quick minute. She isn’t going very far. All she will do is go up to the merchant and buy the cat stuffy and return back to the sweets stall in no time at all.

Right?

.

.

.

In that split second, Sophie makes a decision.

She turns back towards the bustling market square and runs.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

I'm so sorry for the delay with this chapter! I wanted to post it during my xmas holidays but I got so caught up with other things (read: sleeping) that I didn't get any writing done at all. I hope you all enjoy the chapter. Thank you again for being so patient with me and reading up until now. Things are about to get rocky so I hope you're all prepared.

The SylVix PDA thing was actually inspired by art from @emilyliuwho on twitter. You can see the post here.

If you would like to be added to a tag list, please PM me!!

Tag list: @pato-social

[spriteandnicotine]

The Thing You Love

Pairing-> Kai Chisaki xFem!  Reader

Genre-> Fluff

Warnings-> Drinking

a/n-> Yes; I understand Overhaul is a sociopath and a germaphobe but it is quite possible this <could> happen

My name is Y/N and from a young age I’ve known I was different from others. By simply looking at a person, I could tell what the thing/person they love the most in the world is. As I got older, I gained the ability to cast multiple illusions of what that person loves in order to surround and overwhelm them. The quirk only works on one person at a time, and only that person can see the illusions. The person I use my quirk on immediately forgets who I am. Once I told my father about my quirk, I could no longer cast illusions of my mother around him. Through trial and error, I discovered if I so much as utter what my quirk is to someone, they are immune to my illusions, so it is very important that I keep it a secret.

Because my quirk must be kept a secret, I decided against going to a high school that would help me harness my quirk. Instead, with my father’s permission, I worked to fight crime from the shadows my senior year. One of the most memorable days was when I helped out the hero known as Endeavor to take down Shin Nemoto. I cast illusions from the side of the room, and while Nemoto was freaking out, Endeavor took him down and placed him in handcuffs. Endeavor put the villain up against the wall and moved on to the next room. 

I took the chance to step out from the shadows. Nemoto turned to face me, and from the scrunching in the corners of his eyes, I could tell he was smiling. 

“And who do we have here?” he asked, an amused tone in his voice.

The prior battle being so short, I was still unsure of what his quirk was, so I responded, “Y/N.”

“And what’s your quirk?” he asked, chuckling softly. 

“I cast illusions of the thing or person people love the most, which I can find out by looking at someone,” I blurted out before I had the chance to cover my mouth with my hands. My eyes widened with horror. He must have the ability to make people confess anything-- but how?

As I finished saying this, a new figure appeared from the doorway. Recognizing the figure as a second villain, I tried to run from the room, but as I reached the doorway, I felt an immense pain where my foot meets my leg. I collapsed immediately, and upon looking down, realized that my foot had disintegrated. 

While I was screaming in agony, the figure made his way over to Nemoto and got rid of the handcuffs. He told him something quietly, but I could feel myself fading from consciousness. 

When I woke, I saw more villains with masks sitting around, waiting for me to regain awareness of my surroundings. 

Nemoto looked me dead in the eyes and asked, “How did you find us, and who do you work for?” 

Not wanting to give them any more intel, I quickly covered my mouth with my hands, thus muffling my words. 

“Kendo, tie her hands to the chair,” the man from before ordered.

Wanting to get out of there, I stood up, losing balance due to my peg leg, and fell into the glass coffee table which was directly in front of me. I felt strong hands on my back as the guy I can only infer is Kendo picked me up and sat me in the chair, tying my hands to the handles.

“I’ll ask you once again: How did you find us, and who do you work for?” Nemoto repeated, his cold eyes bore into my skull. 

“I spent months working with pro heroes who don’t know me. I work to fight for my own definition of justice. I worked from the shadows, and simply followed Endeavor on this case because it seemed different from the others I am used to working.” I responded, biting my tongue once I had blurted out the relevant information.

He quickly followed up with another question. “How does your quirk work?”

“If anyone knows what my quirk is, it won’t work on them. I can tell what they love the most still, but the hallucinations won’t work,” I responded, the copper taste of blood slowly spreading throughout my mouth. Shit. Now I can’t fool anyone in this room.

The man that took my foot dismissed everyone from the room, taking the opportunity to sit across from me. He undid my restraints slowly and carefully, keeping surgical gloves on the whole time, his plague doctor mask still covering his nose and mouth.

“My name is Chisaki. I’m the leader of the Shie Hassaikai. If you work under me, I will restore your foot, and if not I can and will take you out of existence.” As he said this, a feeling of dread filled me. 

My heart raced as I responded, “I’ll do it.”

A year later, the Shie Hassaikai decided to throw a party to celebrate the day I joined them. I made my way to the punch bowl and chugged as much of the beverage as I could manage. I sat in the corner, watching everyone celebrate around me. 

As the buzz began to kick in, Kai came down from his room. He was wearing a red suit with a white undershirt and black bowtie, along with the mask I had learned to love throughout the year.

I stood up and walked over to him, curtsying as a joke. “Would you do me the honor of dancing with me, Chisaki?” I asked- nervous that he would say no due to his germaphobia. He shook his head no, his shoulder colliding with mine as he brushed me off.

Fine. If he won’t dance with me, I’ll show him what he’s missing out on. I went up to the DJ and asked him to play something I could head bang to. As the song came on, I turned to the closest person to me, dancing violently. Within the next few seconds, a mosh pit had formed, the only person not taking part being Chisaki.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Chisaki moving quickly towards me, being careful to avoid contact with others. I got out of the crowd and made my way to him, slowing down my movements. After the song ended, there was a slight pause before “Can’t Help Falling in Love” by Elvis began to play. 

Chisaki surprised me by placing his gloved hands around my waist, causing me to blush. As my cheeks turned a strawberry hue, I placed my hands on his shoulders, not wanting the moment to end. 

As the song switched from chorus to verse, we turned in one swift motion and I lost my balance, stepping on his foot with all of my weight. I could sense his blood begin to boil. 

He picked me up, placing one arm in the crook of my knees and the other along my back. Due to the loud music, it appeared that no one noticed him stomping up the stairs. Once he reached the top, he swung open the door to his bedroom and slammed it shut behind him. He threw me onto the bed, his eyes hungry for revenge.

Trying to regain my composure, I propped myself up against the pillows, smoothing the skirt of my dress down. Without warning, he removed his glove and placed his hand on the same foot I had lost about a year ago.

Screaming out in pain, I pleaded, “Please Chisaki. I need my foot back. You don’t understand how much it hurts to not have a foot. I can’t walk. I can’t go anywhere. Are you just going to throw me back out to the streets?”

He scoffed, turning his back to me and walking towards his bathroom. He opened the medicine cabinet with his remaining gloved hand, pulling out a new surgical grade glove and snapping it into place. He quickly made his way to the door. After opening it, he turned around to look me in the eyes. 

“Chisaki,” I mumbled out between deep breaths. “How am I to help your cause if I can’t go anywhere?”

I could see the gears turning in his head as he mulled over whether or not I deserved to get my foot back. The phantom pains grew the longer I went without it. As I screamed out in pain again, salty tears streaming down my face, I could feel his warmth hover over me. His hand reached out to the knob and within mere seconds, my ankle and foot were back in place, the pain gone.

The feeling of the foot being replaced disgusted me, and I brushed past Chisaki, mumbling a, “Thanks,” as I made my way down the hall to my room. I locked the bathroom door, and turned on the hot water; then I grabbed a towel and washcloth from the cabinet next to the sink. 

Part of joining the Shie Hassaikai was that I had to move into the hideout, leaving behind my father and friends altogether. On the plus side, I got a nice bedroom with a built in bathroom, and all necessary things to survive.

I turned on the speaker in the bathroom, trying to drown out the music happening downstairs with my own. Soon after, I took off my clothes and hopped in the shower, taking special care to scrub my foot and the point where it joins my calf. 

After the shower, I got out and wrapped myself in my towel. I made my way to the sink, grabbing the toothbrush out of its holder and the toothpaste from the medicine cabinet, scrubbing my mouth from top to bottom, front to back.

While scrubbing my tongue with the brush in my dominant hand, I grabbed the floss from the still open cabinet in front of me. I followed up brushing my teeth with flossing, then brushing my hair after spraying a leave-in conditioner in it, making the room smell mildly of coconut.

Satisfied with my appearance, I turned off my music and unlocked the door, opening it to find Chisaki standing in the door frame without his gloves or mask on. His smooth face took my breath away, and he leaned in for a kiss. 

I wrapped my arms around his neck as our mouths collided, sparks of electricity shooting through my body. His tongue passed against my lower lip, and I opened my mouth. As our tongues melded together, I decided to use my quirk to look into his mind one last time. The thing he loves the most is no longer a quirkless world --- it’s me.

Taglist: @megalodon-writes

[vakarians-babe]

Because I’m still in hyperfixation mode and I just finished replaying the og Mass Effect trilogy at midnight, have a lil essay on why Shakarian (at least how I’ve played it) breaks me every time! Essay under the cut, bc it’s longer than I ever intended lmao

I’ll start by saying I play as femShep, with the Earthborn and Sole Survivor backgrounds, as the infiltrator class (main weapon is sniper) My canon Shep is named Anais and follows much of the Paragon track. So, ME1. There’s Anais, fresh out of what she thinks is the biggest failure of her career since Akuze. Nihlus is dead and so are almost all of the colonists and Jenkins. It’s kind of raw, but she’s determined to do things her way—the ‘right’ way. No one left behind, no unnecessary sacrifices; you do what you can to save everyone, not enact an arithmetic of death. She’s a little older than Garrus (my canon is 27 at the beginning of ME1, while Garrus is 25), who is this brash, angry proponent of ‘justice’ as he sees it, and she recognizes a little bit of her own pain and her own motivations in him as he tells her how desperately he wants to take Saren down. Throughout the game, from Feros and Noveria to Virmire and Ilos, she does her best to teach him that you don’t take shortcuts. You don’t let your anger lead the direction of your scope. It’s the encounter with Dr. Saleon that really hits some of that home for Garrus, because he’s let his thirst for vengeance for /himself/ rather than justice for the victims take over, and she helps him see that. When she has to choose between Kaidan and Ashley, it destroys her, but she does it, and for once Garrus gives her a little comfort, because he sees now /why/ she never wanted to choose. By the time they’re at the final showdown on the Citadel, the two are incredibly close. Garrus respects her, Anais respects him and cares deeply for this friend. And Garrus maybe even adores her (her hair is nice and her waist is very supportive, after all) in a way that he denies.

And then Anais dies. Garrus is at CSec, working on reforms and making sure the processes are about taking care of people and trying to flush out corruption. It flashes across nearly every vidscreen in the room: SSV NORMANDY ATTACKED. COMMANDER SHEPARD LOST. Garrus has to watch, then, as Anais is lauded for a few months, and then swept under the rug. It’s like this force of nature never even existed for so many others, but not for him. Corruption continues in CSec, his efforts earn him reprimands, and it all becomes too much. He hands in his badge and goes to Omega. Builds up his band of comrades, just like Shepard. He fights for normal people, to give them better lives and to keep the bullies off their backs. Just like Shepard. But Sidonis is there, and eventually he betrays them all. Garrus, now Archangel, is devastated. He’s tried so hard to hold onto what Anais had taught him, and now, at the same age she was when she died, he’s ready for one last battle, with all of the gangs of Omega, and he doesn’t care if he dies, because there’ll be less bullies in the world and the only collateral damage will be him. He’s already lost his team, he won’t let there be anyone else left behind, no others unnecessarily sacrificed. He may be dealing in an arithmetic of death, but it’s about how many he can take out before he goes.

Instead, someone breaks through the gangs’ lines. Someone with a build and a gate and a way of sniping on the move that is so familiar to Garrus, but he can’t let himself believe it. Lots of people have dark hair and big noses (but he still remembers what she looked like, two years ago, and he knows its her even though he tells himself it’s not). But suddenly she’s there, and it’s his chance to be cool and show her how he’s grown, and she does look exactly the same up close, except for these lingering scars. When the gunship takes him down briefly, he thinks it’s ironic that now they even share facial scars.

As they catch up, Garrus starts to realize how much /he’s/ grown. They’re the same age now, he keeps reminding himself, because Anais is still 27, and two years spent as little more than cells in a lab don’t include birthdays. Anais is seeing it too, and part of her is sad, because she knows Garrus has been through so much to make him the way he is. The loss of his team hurts her. But Garrus is tougher than she expected, and he took her lessons to heart, even if he’s interpreted some of them in his own ways. As Anais feels more hopeless, pulled more deeply into Cerberus and into a way of things that she doesn’t like, she finds herself forced to be angry. To choose some of the options she might not have chosen before. Her scars are mostly healed, and the strange light has left them, but her face is still newly knitted flesh. It’s Garrus who tries to soften Anais now, because in those two years he’s gained an understanding of hope and hopelessness that he never had before.  

When the chance comes to catch up with Sidonis, the two of them find themselves snapping back towards who they were that day so long ago on the Citadel. Garrus, despite his losses, is angry again. /He/ wants vengeance, though he tells himself it’s justice for his /squad/. Anais knows she can’t let him do it, because sole survivors will always blame themselves in the end, and when Sidonis is gone, only the self hate and the feelings of failure will remain. So she stops him. And when he asks her “what do you want from me, Shepard?” she shatters inside, because she realizes suddenly that somehow, she’s falling in love with him, and she knows how he feels. She felt that way on Akuze, felt that way when she faced her commanding officer, felt that way about herself when she failed her team. She wants him to stop blaming himself, but that’s so much to ask.

But he does realize that, deep down. When she looks at him with all the pain of experience, he knows in that moment that she has blamed herself for years, and it’s what she’s afraid will happen to him. It’s the start of something new for Garrus, and he finally listens to those little feelings inside him whenever he sees Anais tying up her waist-length hair, or smiling softly in the corner of the mess hall, or surreptitiously buying a new model ship or fish or hamster. They start to flirt, slowly, both of them pretending this is just a friendship with a little more when they know it isn’t.

The Batarian relay is even worse for Anais than Horizon was. She knows exactly how many people she tried to save, and who died anyway. She listened to Dr. Kenson, and it’s all her fault. But Garrus stops, he stands in front of her, and he tells her quietly that she /tried/ and she knows she has to stop pretending she only sees him as a friend, because she loves him completely. He doesn’t know when he stopped pretending to himself anymore.

The Collector Base is terrifying, for both of them. The final journey to and through the Omega Four relay is one they spend tangled up, sometimes awkward, but always right. Despite what’s coming, that time in the loft is theirs. When Anais leaves Garrus as the leader of the second squad, they both know it’s because she trusts him and his skills completely, more completely than anybody on the team, save perhaps Miranda or Tali. They both wish she didn’t have to. But they win, and they all make it out of the Suicide Mission unscathed. The goodbye is impossibly hard, but neither one of them can bring themselves to say the three words they want to say. Garrus goes back to Palaven, where he’s promoted. Anais faces her trial on Earth. They both kick themselves for the things they never said.

The final coming of the Reapers shakes Anais. She can’t help but think of Garrus, on Palaven, as the reports start drifting in while they fly to Mars. And then she finds him, on that moon, and he’s whole and he’s alive and he’s there and she wants to blurt it out (he does too). They’re both amazed afterwards by how easy it is to resume things, and by how much more open it feels. Though neither of them say anything, they know what’s changed. They know it’s really for real. They’re on more even footing now, with Anais choosing more Renegade options than she would a year ago but still trying to do what’s right, and Garrus refusing to cut corners, even though he makes hard choices. When she cures the Genophage, Garrus is in awe at how easy the decision is for her. When she saves the Geth /and/ the Quarians, Garrus doesn’t know how she /exists/. Somewhere along the way, he realizes he would die for her. And when they sneak up to the presidium roof and she misses her shot, Garrus knows she did it on purpose, because Commander Anais Shepard can hit a traveling Banshee between the eyes. Anais thinks it’s her secret and she’ll never tell him. But what she really wants is to say she loves him. 

As the nightmares get worse for Anais, Garrus does what he can to make things easier. He cleans her guns for her, when she’s not looking or thinking. He brings food up to her cabin, to force her to eat when she sits there just looking at the reports from the Battlespace, watching the casualty lists scroll across the screen of her personal communicator. She always takes him on her missions, when she can. And when she comforts him about his family, he wants to come undone right there in the gun battery. He doesn’t. 

They both have a feeling that one of them won’t make it out of this. Despite the numbers, despite those readiness ratings, there’s that fear. All the talk of turian/human babies and of adopting is just a blind hope for the two of them. But god, do they want that future. They want to live off of the royalties from the vids and grow old and gray and be able to remember with amazement how they once were able to barrel roll and fight Brutes without arthritis pain stopping them. 

The run to the beam, that headlong, dead-out sprint, is full of panic. Anais trips more than once as she glances over her shoulder for Garrus. He grips her under her shoulders and yanks her to her feet like a ragdoll, setting her gently onto her feet each time. When the beam hits the Mako, and it rolls over in the explosion, Anais thinks she’s lost everything. The Crucible doesn’t matter if Garrus is gone, because there’s no Shepard without Vakarian. Even though he’s heavy, so much heavier than her, she drags him to the bay doors of the Normandy. And because she thinks this is the last chance, because she doesn’t know which one of them will live, she finally tells him she loves him. As he fights back tears, he says it back. And then the doors close and she’s gone. 

With the Citadel so fully alien and terrifying, Anais tries to think only of him. Only of what they might name their first kid. Would they adopt? She knows that their DNA isn’t compatible. But they could always try something. Maybe they’d be Krios, for Thane, or Kaidy, for Kaidan. Standing in front of the Illusive Man, feeling the threads of indoctrination in her head, it’s the thought of returning to Garrus that lets her break free, just for a moment, to pull the trigger. It’s not enough to save Anderson. Maybe their child will be named David. With unfeeling fingers, Anais arms the Crucible. She can’t rid the world of synthetics--Edi and the Geth are just as alive as they are--but there will be no dominating the reapers. She hopes everyone will understand as she chooses Synthesis. And then she lets go. She’s sure she’s died. 

But the next day, when the dust has settled somewhat, and the crew of the Normandy are gathered around their memorial wall, Garrus feels differently. It’s amazing, how when they were together and saying their goodbyes he was sure he wouldn’t see her again. But now, even when those around them are sure that Commander Shepard, /the/ Commander Shepard, is dead, he knows she’s not. She died once, after all, and that didn’t stop her. Besides, her cybernetic augmentation is designed to heal her.

And while Garrus stands there, hoping, Anais takes a breath on that wreckage. 

[mrsbhandari]

Shutter - Part 1

a/n: HI penny here!! so i’ve been writing a lil sumn sumn for @lxdy-starfury‘s wonderful modern blades au, and as i am nearing 7000 words (and am not nearly finished, whew), my lovely best friend told me that it would be good to start posting it piece by piece. so i hereby present part 1 of this au!! it’s not exactly like her manyyyyy AMAZING detailed hc for modern!tyril, this fic is heavily inspired by her hc and GORGEOUS artworks. i hope you enjoy it!!

warnings: none!!

word count: 2k.

summary: It begins with a photo shoot and an interview.

Tagging @anotherbeingsworld ❤❤

#

“You shouldn’t be excited for this.”

“You have a shoot with a hot billionaire, and I have the privilege of going along and meeting him?!” Nia squealed, nearly spilling her coffee onto the sidewalk. 

“He’s going to end up being a pompous ass.” Naexi took a sip of her own coffee, savoring the bitterness of it and cradling it close to her body to ward away the cold. “They always are.”

“You’re too cynical. I mean listen to how he sounds in this interview!” From her bag, Nia whips out a recent copy of Forbes, flipping it open to a page marked with a pastel post-it note.

“You have his interview tabbed?” she asked, but Nia had already begun reading.

“‘I believe there is no secret to success. Everything needed for success is provided given you use the tools to your advantage. I would not have gotten as far as I have today without my drive to help those in need-’”

Naexi straightened her back and deepened her voice, mocking the billionaire. “However, my daddy’s money also definitely helped. ‘Tis unfortunate that no one is born with my trust fund, hm?” Nia let loose a few giggles and turned her attention to the next page, which featured Tyril standing in gray slacks and a black sweater, hands in his pockets in an effortlessly casual pose. He had long hair that was tied back, some front pieces falling over the frames of his glasses. Barely sparing a glance at the page, Naexi rolled her eyes. “You’re too obsessed with him.”

“Who isn’t?”

“Me.” They finally reached the small New York townhouse being used for the shoot. Letting Nia walk first through the doors, Naexi drank the rest of her coffee and tossed it into a bin outside the building before following her friend inside.

#

Tyril shifted in his fancy shoes, nervously taking his hands out of his pockets and putting them back in. It was early in the morning, around six, but he felt wide awake. He was always nervous for these sorts of things; getting his picture taken, people prying into his private life. Yet, he still had to put on an air of normalcy and professionalism. He couldn’t help but feel like he was in the way, since he arrived thirty minutes before he was supposed to. 

“The photographer’s here, so we’re close to starting.” Tyril jumped as a makeup artist gently led him to a chair and began breaking out her tools. 

“You ready, Ty?” 

“Only if you stop calling me that, Immy.” Tyril locked eyes with Imtura, his security detail, in the mirror. She was scowling, but he knew there was no real malice behind it. “I’m...ready as I’ll ever be for these things.” He fished his phone out of his pocket and checked his emails for what seemed to be the hundredth time that morning. He was so engrossed that he didn’t hear the frantic whispers of two girls close by to the chair until Imtura spoke.

“Sorry, ladies, but who are you?”

“The photographer, and this is my assistant for the shoot.” A tall girl approached the chair and gestured to her friend, who was bright red and looking at Tyril with wide eyes. Putting on a polite smile, he gave a nod to Imtura and focused on them both. 

“Hello.”

“Wow, it’s really you! I mean, of course it’s you, I just didn’t expect you to be so...real! Do you know what I mean?” The assistant rambled, looking expectantly at Tyril. 

“I...can’t say I do. I apologize.” He glanced towards the photographer, who seemed to be studying him with a bored expression. She didn’t stop when he locked eyes with her, and he couldn’t help but feel slightly uncomfortable under her gaze. “It’s nice meeting you both.” He leaned forward slightly in his chair, hoping they understood his hint.

“Oh! I’m Nia, Nia Ellarious. This is Naexi Carsys.” The photographer gave a small wave before walking away to the large sheet of paper he was supposed to be photographed in front of. “She’s...mysterious,” Nia explained. 

“It’s quite alright, you can say she doesn’t like me.” Tyril’s lips turned up ever so slightly, his eyes following Naexi’s form as she set up her camera and helped move the chair into the frame. She was pretty in an effortless way, as cliche as it sounds. Her eyebrows furrowed as she fiddled with her camera, mouth set in a tight line as she took a few trial shots and messed with the settings after each one. Nia silently watched how the gears in his head seemed to turn as he looked at her, akin to someone looking for a specific piece to a puzzle. 

#

“For starters, just sit normally in the chair, to make sure the settings and lights are right for you,” Naexi instructed, looking through the viewfinder and humming at what she saw. Tyril sat stiffly, unsure of what to do with his hands or his face. 

“Like this?” He placed his hands on his knees and offered a boring face to the camera.

“Yeah…” she replied, distracted by turning and pressing little knobs and buttons on her instrument. He found himself watching her fingers and a fleeting thought of how soft her hands looked was pushed out of his brain as quickly as it had come. “Okay, loosen up a little.” Tyril glanced down at his body in confusion. 

“How so?” His shoulders were tense and his lips were pursed, the exact opposite of what she wanted from him. 

“What do you mean, just…” She let the camera fall against her chest and made a show of holding her arm up and dropping it. “Loose.”

“I--” He peered at everyone watching him and then back at Naexi, who cocked her head and raised her eyebrows. Without a word, she pulled up another chair and sat next to him. 

“I know you’ve done photoshoots before, but did Forbes not tell you to loosen up a little?” He shook his head. “Okay, guess it’s up to me then.” He tried not to flush at her obvious exasperation with him. 

“I apologize, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to having my picture taken. I much prefer to be behind the scenes.” 

“Too bad you’re the face of the company. Now, look at how you’re sitting.” She gestured to his shoulders and posture, tense and rigid. “Don’t slouch, but let out some of that tension. Lean back in the chair.” She copied him, then laid back onto the chair, draping her hands in her lap. He imitated her, earning a small nod of approval. “There you go. Now, as I take pictures, make small adjustments to where your hands are, where your feet are, things like that. Don’t be afraid to move around.”

“Yes, thank you.” She stood and removed the chair and Tyril found himself at an odd loss. He suddenly noticed that there was an absence in the air next to him, no longer occupied by the smell of her lotion or the gentle swishing of her baggy pants. His heart had soared when she had given him that little ounce of praise and now, he found himself desperate for her to repeat that for him, but he didn’t know why. It bothered him to no end.

“Lean forward and clasp your hands for me.” He leaned forward and clasped his hands. “Good.” The corners of his mouth turned up. 

#

“Mr. Starfury, you’ve certainly been making waves for yourself in many spheres.”

“Please, call me Tyril. And...I suppose. My family certainly does have their dealings in many different games, to put it lightly.”

“Yes, your family has a range spanning across so many different industries. Where exactly do you fit in?"

"Well, I run most of my family's research facilities, focusing on scientific research into soil acidity and agriculture."

"Don't worry, we didn't only bring you here to talk business. A lot of people know you as somewhat of a fashion icon. To what do you attribute your style?"

Tyril let out a laugh, polite and respectful and just the right volume. "I like to look professional, but I would have to shine a spotlight on the numerous stylists my father has employed, ever intent on ensuring I uphold my air of authority through my attire. I'd be an utter mess without them." 

"What's an embarrassing moment for you?" 

Tyril blinked at the sudden switch of subjects. "Well, one time during a presentation, I tripped on a wire onstage in front of hundreds of people. I fell flat on my face, and even broke my glasses. It was the most humiliating moment of my life."

"Wow, that's so….human." 

"It happens to all of us, I believe. People like to forget that those they put on a pedestal can still fall."

"You're a very private person, as well."

"I am."

"Have you heard some of the rumors surrounding you?" 

"I've heard that I grew up in a cult, that I'm secretly a vampire… Each one I've heard is more interesting than the last." He waved his hand dismissively and laughed again. “My favorite is that I’m secretly an elf.”

“Do you just let them roll off your back?”

“What else can I do, really? Plus, they’re not particularly harmful. It’s better for me to focus on running the company rather than any publicity I have.”

“Let’s switch gears a little bit. You’re a man of high education, correct?”

“I suppose...I went to Oxford and have a PhD in physics.”

“And you’re twenty-five?”

Tyril smiles, knowing where this was going. “Yes, I am.”

“If you don’t mind me being so vague, how exactly do you do it? Getting such a high degree so young and then running a company on top of it...must’ve been difficult.”

Tyril stopped for a second. “Coffee. Lots of coffee. I also have many helpers who the company would fall apart without.” He stopped again, seemingly to carefully craft his next words on his tongue. “I won’t lie and say that it was easy, however I also won’t say that it was as difficult as it could’ve been. I had the best tutors and a lot of money from my family to help open doors that others couldn’t find the key for, which is why I try and give back as much as I can to those less fortunate than I.”

“Is that the main focus of your research facilities?”

“Yes, we focus on testing soil in areas hit by devastation across the world. Our main goal is to provide relief for those unable to rely on the very ground on which they stand. Many of these areas use farming as their main source of food, water, and money, so when disasters, natural or otherwise, occur, it can be truly catastrophic to these small communities. We call it the Undermount Project.” 

“How philanthropic of you.”

Tyril waved a hand again. “I could always be doing more, and I try to as much as I can.”

“And for the final question that everyone is dying to know...are you single?”

Tyril froze. “I...unfortunately don’t have time for love. So, yes, I am, uh, single.”

“Well, that concludes it! Naexi, did you get some good shots?” The interviewer stood and clapped his hands, retrieving the microphone from Tyril’s shirt. 

“When he wasn’t nervously glancing at the camera, yeah.” She flipped through the camera, missing the flush that entered Tyril’s cheeks. He never considered himself a person to impress others, yet…

Why does he feel the need to impress her?

[submissivedjberry]

Back to You || Jolia

Tagging: DJ Berry & Jo Fabray ( @jofabray )

Date: August 8, 2020

Location: Jo’s Suite

Summary: DJ goes to Jo after her scene with Nate &  Mateo.

Jo

Jo was worried. There was no hiding it, no getting away from it, and no distracting herself from it. The sort of scene that DJ had volunteered herself for was intense, and it would require proper aftercare and a lot of attention. She trusted Nate - but knew less about Mateo. Presumably, since he had two claims, he was a capable Dominant, but DJ was hers, dammit, and Jo had spent the night obsessing over all that could go wrong. The blanket in her hand was wrung until it was a knotted mess, and whatever she'd been watching on TV all night was a complete mystery to her. She needed her girl in her arms, and the chance to look her over and be sure that she was safe. Then would come kisses, and cuddles, and all the attention the submissive could stand. As she waited for DJ to slip in the door of her suite, Jo shut her eyes in an effort to clear her head. It wouldn't do any good to be rolling with jealousy and worry when her girl arrived, and so that needed to go.

DJ

The scene with Nate and Mateo had been amazing. She had enjoyed being pushed in completely new ways. She was aching, but she was so happy. She had done well, as far as she could tell, and felt like she had grown through that scene. Returning to Jo's room took no time at all and she was there in the blink of an eye. She stepped inside and closed the door behind her, locking it as well. She moved further into the suite, smiling softly at the sight of her Domme resting on the couch. She dropped to her knees and then rested her chin on the Dominant's lap. She hoped that she didn't scare her.

Jo

Jo had half heard the door open, but she was comfortable and a bit lazy - so she simply waited for DJ to make herself known. Only when she felt a chin in her lap did she smile, hazy eyes slowly blinking open. "Hey, darlin' girl. Sorry, I just thought I'd shut my eyes for a few minutes. How was your scene?" Even though she was barely awake, Jo's attention was laser focused on DJ's face. She needed to be sure that everything was okay, and that the aftercare DJ might have needed had been on offer.

DJ

"Hi, my Miss. That's alright. You should rest if that's what you want." DJ mused softly, dark eyes focused on the Domme's face. She was so enamored with the blonde and she was so glad that Jo wanted her too. She didn't understand how Jo wanted her but she was so very happy and so grateful. "My scene was good. I'm a little sore, but they took good care of me." DJ assured the other with a soft smile.

Jo

"Not just yet," Jo shook her head. "We can rest afterwards, my girl, but first we give you a good once-over." She was glad to hear, though, that the scene had gone well and DJ had been looked after. "C'mon with me to the bedroom, and y'all can tell me more about it. You had fun?" She tried to keep her voice light, but it was hard to hide the little twinge of jealousy in her words. "Think it's somethin' you'd want to do again?"

DJ

"If you're sure." She wasn't going to push it or try to stop the Domme from looking her over. She may not officially be Jo's sub, but they were moving towards it. That, in DJ's mind gave Jo every right to want to look her over. "Yes, Miss. I had fun. I think it was a really good start to something that I could do more often." DJ said honestly, not wanting to lie at all. "I would like to do it with you at some point if you find someone you might want to do it with, my Miss." When they reached the bedroom, she eased off her clothes.

Jo

"Positive. There's no way I'd sleep now if I didn't at least give y'all a quick check. Need to make sure my girl's in good shape." She smiled as DJ described how much she'd enjoyed it, and that she'd like to do it again. "If I ever find anyone I'd trust with us both in that sort of scene, darlin' girl, I'll be sure and make it happen for ya." Once DJ was stripped, Jo kissed her gently on the top of her head. "Lie down for me, please. Anywhere you're feeling sore, or that I should look at first?"

DJ

"Keep me updated on that please, Miss?" DJ questioned, even though she knew there was a chance that she wouldn't get a chance to do it with Jo. She flushed slightly. "I'm mostly just a bit sore down below. They used a plug on me anally after Mateo opened me up with his fingers. But I really think it's okay, just not something my body has been used to in the past." DJ expressed honestly. "Other than that though, I'm feeling good."

Jo

"Of course, Dalia. I'd never consider bringin' someone else in to scene with us without a good long talk first. Our time is our time, and we'll keep that to ourselves unless there's someone I really think is worth lettin' be part of it with us." She nodded, taking that information in and wincing a little at the use of an anal plug. "Good girl. I'll just keep this quick, then, and you can tell me what you need - we can eat, if y'all would like, or rest first. Your choice."

DJ

"Our time." DJ agreed with a smile. She knew that there was a chance that Jo would connect with someone else and want to claim them, but it was nice to know that Jo would be open if that happened. She had had dinner before the scene, knowing that she wouldn't be let go until eleven, but having some fruit might not be a bad idea. "Do you still have some fruit, my Miss?" The submissive questioned, stretching out to let the Domme look her over wherever she would like.

Jo

Jo smiled in response. "I do, in fact. There's some grapes and some oranges, so we can help ourselves after." She didn't make too big a show out of examining DJ, but her careful gaze went from head to toe before giving her a gentle nudge so that the Dominant could check her other side. There were no visible marks, at least nothing that looked fresh, and Jo let out a soft sigh between her teeth. Part of her had been sure that Nate or Mateo might have done something that she'd have to take them to task for, but apparently that hadn't happened. "Looks all good, darlin'. If y'all want to slip a robe on, yours is just behind the door there. We can get some fruit and sit up for a little - thinkin' in here, or out on the couch?"

DJ

"That sounds perfect. I really like that idea." DJ agreed with a hum. She could already taste the sweetness and she was excited for the before bedtime snack. As she was tapped, she giggled softly and rolled over so that the Domme could look over the other half of her. Once she was finished, she eased herself onto her feet. "I think in here if that's okay with you?" She suggested and then moved to grab her robe, pulling it on and tying it closed before moving to the Domme and slipping her arms around her waist, nuzzling into her neck. "I had fun, but I'm glad you wanted me to come back tonight. I like falling asleep with you."

Jo

"That's just fine with me, darlin' - I'm very comfy in here with y'all, so it sounds like a really great plan to me." When DJ nuzzled into her, Jo's hands gently rubbed her back through the soft fabric of the robe. "I'm glad that you could - come back, I mean. I would have hated to have to wait until morning to see y'all after a scene like that. And I know just what you mean, because I very much like fallin' asleep with you too. I sleep better that way."

DJ

She was so glad that Jo felt the same way and that she wanted her here as much DJ wanted to be here. It caused a warmth to fill her up. "Did you do anything while I was gone? Have any company or anything?" DJ questioned, wondering if Jo kept herself busy at all over the last few hours. The feeling of the blonde's hands against her back was amazing, she felt so safe and so cared for.

Jo

Jo smiled, shaking her head. "Nah. I just curled up on the couch and had some tea, and that was about the extent of my excitin' evening until you got back." There wasn't a long list of people knocking down her door to spend time with her, and she didn't go out of her way to look for any either. "One intense scene between the two of us'll have to do for today."

DJ

“Sounds very relaxing, my Miss." DJ uttered gently, pulling back so that they could go get the fruit. "You don't have to scene with everyone you hang out with though, my Miss. Do you have anyone coming over tomorrow? Do I have to rush out at all?"

Jo

"It was, darlin' girl, thank you. A really nice evening, and the tea kept my mind off worryin' about y'all." Leading her out to the kitchen, Jo smiled an acknowledgement of DJ's words. "That's a fair enough point, my girl. But no, there's no one coming over - y'all can stay just as long as you'd like, we can get some extra sleep and take things easy." Opening the fridge, she found the fruit and set it out on the counter. "As much as you'd like, darlin'."

DJ

"You were worried about little ole' me?" Hearing that she didn't need to leave, she smiled softly. "Okay, Miss. But if that changes and you want to invite someone over, that's okay. I can leave so you can have someone other than me around." She teased, leaning over to kiss Jo's cheek. She reached in to grab some grapes as they were placed on the counter and she hummed. "So very good. Thank you."

Jo

Jo quirked an eyebrow. "I worry about you every time you're not here with me, Dalia. And that's not sayin' I don't want you to go other places or be with other people, but I will always worry until I see y'all again." She smiled as lips pressed to her cheek, reaching out to gently tousle dark hair. "I know you're teasin', but I'd never do that. Our time is our time." Jo put the grapes in a bowl along with a couple of oranges, reaching for DJ's hand. "You're welcome. I know how much a scene can take out of you, so fruit is a good idea."

DJ

"I'll always come back to you." DJ promised, meaning the words with every fibre of her being. She was Jo's. They may not have been at the point of a trial claim, but not that they were trying out the rules, it felt like it was becoming more and more real. And she loved that. "I know. But I also know that I just seem to claim your weekends and I can give you Sunday if you want to see someone else...like Tina." The Domme had been texting her earlier so she didn't know if she wanted time with her. "So delicious."

Jo

Her heart swelled a little in her chest, and she couldn't resist stealing a kiss. "And I will always be here waitin' for you," she promised. "Every single time." She led DJ to the bed and settled in, propping up the bowl between them. "If you claim my weekends, darlin', it's because that's what I want." She hesitated, considering her next words carefully. "I don't think Tina would have much fun over here. I know how much she struggles with the little things about the system, and there are things I can't let her get away with not doin'. Like kneelin' at the door." She popped a slice of orange into her mouth, chewing slowly. "I think she could use the company, but I'm still workin' on the best way to let her have it." Swallowing, she shook her head. "But this weekend, I'm all yours. Until classes Monday, if y'all want to stay that long."

DJ

The kiss was so welcomed, just like any other kiss she had ever received from the blonde. They were always perfect. She followed her to the bed, getting very comfortable. "I understand, Miss. Sorry." She breathed out, not wanting it to seem like she thought she could get Jo to do something she didn't want to. She hummed softly when she said that she wasn't sure if Tina would have fun over at Jo's, thinking over the dilemma that her Domme seemed to be facing. "I think she may be more willing if you ask her to do so nicely. You guys have been talking a bit right? So it's not like you're just hopping into asking something of her? Is there a lot more than that that you think she might be against?" She paused, biting on her bottom lip. "Sorry, I don't mean to overstep or anything."

Jo

"No apologies necessary, sweet girl. I knew what y'all meant, I just wanted to remind you that I always want you here with me. As many days of the week as we can. And it's not like y'all just show up and expect to walk in, we always talk first if I want you over, or if it's your request. So I just don't want ya to have to have to worry about it," she promised. Jo quickly shook her head. "You're not. I appreciate the advice, darlin'." She thought over DJ's words for a moment, considering what she had to say. "You've got a point there. I don't think it'd be out of the blue if I asked her to kneel." She considered the question. "Titles. She doesn't like those at all. But other than that, I don't think there's anythin' that would come up if we had some time in private."

DJ

"You could always just talk to her first and see if they were things she could get behind to spend time together. It's not like you don't have the right to ask for those things, my Miss." DJ expressed gently, resting her head on her shoulder. "You are amazing and I don't know why anyone wouldn't agree to things that would let them hang out with you." She realize she was essentially pushing Jo to hang out with another submissive and part of her was a little uneasy about that but she needed to trust in what she and Jo were building, otherwise she would go insane. Plus, she wanted Jo to make connections.

Jo

Jo nodded. "I do, you're right, but I try to be careful about pushin' people who have no interest in the system. It's not my place to change their minds, after all, or to try and...I don't know, fix them." Jo gently rubbed her back. "I don't think there'd be a lot of people out there who'd share that opinion, darlin' girl, but it means the world to me that y'all think of me that way." Her opinion of herself wasn't low, but her time in Lima had shown that she didn't seem to be very compatible with a lot of her fellow students.

DJ

"I get that, Miss. But just expecting a few things as a means of respect isn't really pushing is it? You're just setting up your expectations and if Tina doesn't like it...she doesn't have to come over, right?" The rubbing of her back caused a content sigh to fall from her lips. She cared about the Domme so much and felt so very comfortable in the Domme's arms. "If they looked around properly, my Miss...there's no way they wouldn't think the same." DJ argued lightly.

Jo

"No, darlin', that's true. I don't think that I ask for a lot, or that I'm a particularly demanding Domme. I guess what I worry about more is pushin' her away, because I really don't know how many people would be willin' to spend time with her if she can't do the basics. But in the end I guess all I can do is try." DJ's words pulled a little smile from her. "You're very kind to me, my girl. Thank you."

DJ

"All you can do is try. And I don't think you'll push her away, Miss." DJ said, though she did feel a little bit of something churn within her that Jo seemed preoccupied with not wanting to push Tina away. She swallowed, keeping herself nuzzled against Jo so that she couldn't see her face. "Just the truth, Miss."

Jo

Jo nodded. "We'll just have to see." She rubbed DJ's back in small circles again. "My darlin' girl." She pressed a kiss to DJ's head. "Still feelin' good about having a new rule? I mean I know it didn't change anythin' in your scene, but is it working for you to know that you have one.”

DJ

The kiss to her head had a bright smile forming on her lips. Jo always seemed to know what she needed, even if she didn't know why the submissive needed it. "Mmm, yes, Miss. I feel very good about having this rule. It's making things...what we are aiming for...feel more real."

Jo

"I'm glad to hear that. I feel very much the same - it's tough sometimes, I think, to remind ourselves while we're in separate rooms taking separate classes, or having nights apart, that we're still makin' progress toward the same goal. We're going to get there, and by the time we do we'll have some rules that we're both comfortable with." Jo thought for a moment. "For our next one, I'd like to propose something. A rule that would make you feel more grounded in a claim. Think y'all can do that for me?"

DJ

"I agree." She was glad that the blonde felt similarly to her. When Jo brought up having an idea for the next rule, she pulled back from the Domme and turned to rest on her back so she could look up at Jo, head now resting in her lap like it had been before she had gone for her scene. This time though, instead of on the long couch, her legs were hanging off of the bed. "Yes, my Miss. What do you have in mind?" Her eyes were wide, eager to find out what Jo might have planned next for them both.

Jo

Jo loved just how domestic, how loving and relaxed it felt as DJ laid in her lap. Brushing some fine hair away from her face, her smile at her submissive was soft and bright. "How would you feel about changing the way you address me? I think once you're mine officially, even in a trial, I'd like something more than Miss. That said," she hesitated. "I'm not sure that I like Mistress. So I was hoping you might have a better idea."

DJ

"Something more than Miss but not Mistress." She mused, biting down on her bottom lip thoughtfully. "I think I'll have to think about it, my Miss. I can slip a new one in every once in a while and then see how we both feel?" She didn't want to just choose, she wanted it to be perfect.

Jo

Jo nodded and smiled. "I think that's a very smart way to go, darlin' girl. We'll try them out and find somethin' that feels right to us both. My girl's so brilliant." Resting a hand on her forehead, Jo just took the sight of her in. "Also, I was going to ask: did you want to come up with some rules as well? I won't necessarily agree to them, but if you have ideas of what would make you more comfortable in a claim I think we should talk about those. No hurry, of course, but if anything comes to you."

DJ

When Jo asked the next thing, she hummed softly. How did she feel about coming up with some rules that she might feel comfortable with? It wasn't a bad idea, because she knew that at the end of the day, Jo would still be in charge of what rules she actually ended up having. "I think I like that idea too, Miss Jo." DJ agreed, reaching out to grab Jo's other hand and like their fingers as their hands rest over her stomach.

Jo

"Wonderful," Jo nodded. "I'll look forward to hearin' what y'all think of, darlin'." She gave their joined fingers a little squeeze. "How are you feelin'? Did you get enough fruit?" They'd likely sleep before too long, once the adrenaline of the scene had left DJ's body, but Jo wanted to be sure that she had eaten and got some fluids in her before that happened. It would help prevent any drop and hopefully allow DJ to rest.

DJ

"I'll definitely do some thinking. Promise." She would take this seriously. "Yes, Miss. I feel good. Just content. I'm with you, I'm very happy." DJ assured her, smiling up at the Domme. "I just want to make sure you are happy too." The submissive expressed, biting down on her bottom lip with a shrug of her shoulder.

Jo

"I never doubted you'd do otherwise, my girl." Jo tilted her head curiously. "Darlin', as long as y'all are here with me I'll be happy. I'm so proud to be lookin' to the future with you, and I know we're going to have a great trial claim. Then I can keep y'all here with me all the time, and that's going to make me happier still. I don't need more than you."

DJ

Her heart beat wildly in her chest and she felt tears well up in her eyes, turning her head to nuzzle into Jo's stomach and take a breath. She wasn't sure why she was so emotional, bur she felt it deeply.

Jo

Jo worried at the tears, but she trusted that if she'd said something wrong then DJ would tell her so. Instead she scratched gently at her scalp, giving their still-joined hands a little squeeze. "I've got you, darlin' girl. You're right here with me. And you're not goin' anywhere."

DJ

She took a few moments and then pulled back to look up at her. "I'm so happy you want me." She breathed out. She never would have imagined that she would have someone who wanted her this much so soon, or ever.

Jo

Nearly overcome with the wave of emotion that DJ's words caused, Jo had to blink a few times to clear her eyes. "Darlin' girl, I'm the lucky one. You're going to be so wanted, by so many people, and for some reason I can't fathom y'all want me."

DJ

When Jo sent the words back in her direction, she smiled widely. Jo was just so perfect. She breathed out slowly and leaned up to press their lips together, unable to stop herself in that moment. She didn't need anything more than that, just wanted the intimate touch.

Jo

Jo took her hand from DJ to cradle the back of her head, leaning down to make sure that the other woman didn't need to bend too far. She let the kiss linger for as long as DJ wanted it to, ceding control in the moment so that they could both get what they needed.

[snarkystarkybby]

: sweet like honey : Peter Parker x oc.  /two/

Hi, 

sorry about the long wait but heres chapter 2. please please please send me some feedback or requests or anything. 

hope you enjoy xo. 

The night went perfectly, and every time Honey found herself slipping into a daydream about the annoyingly perfect specimen that was peter parker, a giant neon sign screaming ‘HES GOT A GIRLFRIEND’ lit up nice and clear- effectively ruining her daydreams and annoying her to no end.

As annoying that his perfect lips and soft freckles were, she found herself completely entranced by his silky-smooth voice telling the anecdotes from his European trip. It sounded almost too amazing and so Honey attempted to distract herself with the cheesy pasta and toasted bread in front of her.

It was a stupid plan because her sudden crush on her Aunt and Uncles’ favourite apprentice? Intern? (she wasn’t sure what he actually was, but it was currently irrelevant) was sending nervous signals throughout her whole body like lighting and she wasn’t sure if at any given second she would either collapse or combust. consuming anything that wasn't small sips of water seemed sickening.

Thankfully, she made it through dinner without embarrassing herself and she couldn’t have been more thankful when Morgan asked if they could have dessert. Honey leapt from her seat and rushed towards the kitchen, Morgan hot on her heels and chattering about something the older girl couldn’t quite focus on.

Honey knew exactly what was happening from the moment she stood up. Her heart was racing, her hands were both freezing cold and clammy and no matter how hard she tried her lungs seemed to repel all intake of oxygen. Her body slid down the counter and crouched on the floor and when she felt the gaze of her younger cousin she managed to gasp out,

“I’m fine morg- please don’t tell your mom” the girl nodded almost too calmly and pushed a cup of water towards Honey.

“Honey- Honey it’s okay this happens to dad sometimes just focus on something happy” for a seven-year-old Morgan was incredibly clever and understanding. Something about that hurt Honey- kids shouldn’t see this stuff.

It felt like a lifetime but in reality, it only took a few minutes for Honey’s heart to return to normal and oxygen to return to her lungs. She felt a rush of dizziness as she stood up, but she shook it off- this had happened before, she would get over it. Morgan sent her a sad smile as Honey neglected to mention the situation and just prepared the cupcakes onto a plate; which Morgan then happily carried out.

Pepper interrupted the conversation between the three as the girls walked back towards the table- cupcakes at the ready.

“is everything okay- what took so long” Honey’s panicked face gave it away buy no one seemed to comment on her lie,

“we had to trial our treats before we served it- it’s the rules of baking” Morgan seemed to realise what her cousin was doing and just nodded and smiled, helping to settle the tale. The little brunette girl handed everyone a cupcake before digging into one herself.

Honey wanted to eat it but the still ever so present nerves and overwhelming knowledge of her recent anxiety attack caused her stomach to turn and she decided that nausea and cupcake probably weren’t the best combination.

Food was finished and it was time for Morgan to go to sleep, she insisted that Peter took her to bed and he just smiled and whisked her away towards the elevator. Which was how Honey found herself sitting next to Tony on the sofa being at the receiving end of his worried glances.

“what really happened in the kitchen?” She couldn’t find it within herself so lie so instead she just looked away and shook her head,

‘it was nothing- it happens all the time” her stomach flipped as she spoke. She never spoke- to anyone, not about this at least.

“Okay if you’re sure. if you need to talk to someone, I know I’m not the most serious person but I can be- or Pep, just as long as you’re okay” He sounded so sincere but something within her said he was lying so she felt herself closing up even more. Something within her mind screamed retreat and so she did.

“I’m really sorry Morgan had to see that it won’t happen again, thank you for dinner but I don’t feel well I’m going to head up to bed” she stood up and walked out ignoring Tony’s cries for her to stop, politely thanking her aunt for dinner and getting into the elevator.

As she pressed the button and waited for her floor, she felt the tears welling up- she hated this, why did she have to cry like a baby at the drop of a hat. Somewhere between her self-pitying and destructive thoughts, the elevator doors opened. Standing on the other side was Peter dreamboat Parker staring directly towards her reddened cheeks and streaky mascara.

Her voice croaked slightly as she coughed before pushing back the hair which had fallen in front of her face,

“I’m so sorry I’m not feeling well-, but it was really nice to meet you”

He seemed frozen and confused which only fuelled her anxiety.

Perfect, now he’s going to remember her as Pepper’s emotionally unstable weirdo niece.

There goes any chance she ever had with him. Honey rushed through the halls to her room- dramatically tossing herself onto the too-soft-silky-sheets-from-heaven and attempted to relax and forget about the night.

At the same time, Peter made his way back downstairs to the living room to see Pepper walking away -to her office he presumes-  and Tony on the sofa, the look of confusion on his face told Tony all he needed to know. So, he figured to save Honey from any embarrassment and because it wasn’t his place to explain he told Peter she was having issues with a boy from her hometown which Peter accepted and didn’t mention again.

Tony couldn’t help but notice the slight falter in Peter’s demeanour, disappointment? Anger? Sadness? when he mentioned Honey and another boy in the same sentence so partially for his own curiosity and mostly because he actually cared he asked Peter about MJ, who Tony realised had conveniently been left out of any stories about his travels.

“talking about love lives how is Wednesday” Tony tried to keep it light-hearted, but the second MJ was mentioned Peter looked like he would breakdown and cry, instead he let out a sarcastic laugh and huffed,

“I thought it was perfect- I thought we were perfect” Peter slumped back into the sofa and  ran his fingers across the back of his neck,

“in the last week of the trip she seemed off and I got so worried I didn’t know what wrong-” Tony was hadn’t meant to interrupt peter, but his mouth moved quicker than his brain,

“oh god you didn’t knock her up did you” Peters's eyes widen, and he shook his head as if to say no, tony sighed.

“thank god I thought I was going to be a grandparent” he let out a worried laugh but still peter seemed uneasy.

“We got home early this morning and went straight to her apartment ‘cause her parents are out of town, and she just sat me down and said it had to be over” Tony’s stomach sunk- MJ and Peter had been together since their school trip to Europe before sophomore year and now almost three years later a trip to Europe together was their downfall. It had to be some sort of sick joke.

“she said that we should end on a high note because why waste a summer” peter wiped hot tears from his cheeks as she spoke,

“she’s moving away for college and I’m staying here, and it wouldn’t work- she said she needed to experience life by herself, no ties” Tony had his hand running soothingly up and down peters back as she spoke through sobs and shallow breaths,

“three years and all she could say was that I was tying her down”  Peter accepted Tony’s firm hug and retreated into his arms trying to calm himself down but after suppressing his emotions he had to let it out.

“you know what Pete, I know it hurts but I doubt it was an easy decision on her behalf- you have to accept her choice” “I-i just don’t want to replace her, ill never find someone else like her” “you don’t have to replace her- you just have to find someone who you love in a million different ways. she was your first love Pete; you’ll never forget her but someday you will find the girl who makes it hard to remember anyone but her”

“is Pepper your girl?”  Tony just nodded and smiled. Pepper was his girl and he wanted nothing more than for Peter to find his. The poor spider-kid deserved it after all.

Peter ended up staying the night after he and Tony binged watched Star Wars in an effort to lighten the mood- it worked for the most part.

And when he woke up on the sofa, cold toes and yawning to be met with the gorgeous caramel eyes and blonde messy bun he realised that maybe Tony was right. So, he sat there secretly watching Honey attempted to cook pancakes? Crepes? (he wasn’t sure) with Morgan who sat on the kitchen counter laughing at the older girls’ failed attempts to flip the food, he took note of her, how she smiled at every word Morgan would say or how her golden hair would be constantly pushed away from her face.

He hated the guilty feeling deep in his stomach he felt from just observing her- he had only just been dumped and was literally sobbing about it last night shouldn’t he feel sad at least. Tony had mentioned Honey having a boyfriend so he shouldn’t get too caught up on her for one it was creepy, and he was a mess -she didn’t need his damage.

“Hey Peter, you like pancakes?” her melodic voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he followed the sound,

“yeah sounds great”

[leona-x-lancaster]

[ ZENDAYA COLEMAN, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER] — If you’re strolling Derry today, you might see [ LEONA LANCASTER ] along the way! The [ TWENTY-TWO ] year old can usually be found at [ BARTINI as HEAD BARTENDER / OCCASIONAL DANCER ], when they aren’t busy with [ GETTING HIGH and PARTYING ]. I hear they seem to be [ LAID BACK and GENUINE ], but they are also rumored to be [ SARCASTIC and RECKLESS ].  I’m sure they’d never admit it, but they’re terrified of [ DEEP WATER ]

TW: Bipolar Disorder, Depression, Bullying, Attempted Murder, Insomnia, Eating Disorder, Drug Abuse, Alcohol Abuse

Basic Info

Full Name: Leona Alexis Lancaster Nickname(s): Lee, Little Lion Age: 22 Occupation: Head Bartender at Bartini Dance Club Birthday: Sept. 13th Zodiac: Virgo

Family

Father (adopted): Alistair Lancaster Father (adopted): Antonio Hernandez-Lancaster Birth Mother: Name is Unknown. She was a teenage mother, though, and possibly a drug addict herself Sibling(s): Older (adopted) Brother

Physical Appearance

Height: 5′10′’ Weight: 114 lbs Hair Color / Type: Dark brown / Naturally curly. She sometimes straightens it Eye Color: Dark Brown Piercings: Two piercings each on the right and left earlobes; once on the right and left cartilages

Wardrobe examples: X

Personality

(+) Independent, Genuine, Down to Earth, Genius, Fiercely Loyal (-) Unrestrained, Wild, Impulsive, Reckless, Sarcastic

She’s pretty nice to almost everyone, and tries her best not to judge others for their situations, seeing as she’s not exactly perfect herself. She’s very chilled and down to earth, and is super, SUPER smart but tries her best to hide that from people, because of all the hate she got during her high school years.

Has no restrains at the moment, and is very reckless and impulsive because of that. She gets high and drunk all the time and doesn’t really care too much what everyone else thinks of it.

VERY sarcastic, but moreso in a humorous way than her just being truly nasty (she doesn’t really have a malicious bone in her body)

Her Demons

She suffers from: Drug Addiction, Alcohol Addiction, Bipolar Depression, Insomnia, and an Eating Disorder.

She’s well aware that she is a fucking mess (she uses that phrase quite a lot to describe herself), and while she cares, she has no plans of actually stopping. Mostly because she doesn’t know how and also because she loves the feelings her highs give her far too much.

She lies and says that it’s only for fun and she could and will stop, but…she’s lying through her teeth.

She suffers from bipolar depression, which contributes heavily to her substance abuse. Leona was diagnosed at a very early age, and was on a thousand different kind of meds, as the doctors tried to figure out what the hell was wrong with her. These days, she’s opted out on her medication for actual drugs, to help her cope with her insomnia and severe depressive episodes.

She has very low self esteem and she has no self worth. You could tell her that she’s the prettiest girl in the room and she wouldn’t believe you. This comes from her school years where she was bullied severely, and from her depression. She was called every horrible name under the sun and she’s come to believe them all.

She’s a literal genius, but the bullying and hazing that she suffered in high school has caused her to hate that about herself. Her mind is always busy, racing with thoughts and she finds it so hard to turn it off when she’s sober…so she gets high to help her do it for her.

Due to her mind always constantly on autopilot, she suffers from insomnia, as she finds it extremely difficult to sleep because her brain just won’t shut off.

Her drug (and alcohol) addiction is getting more and more out of control. It’s pretty obvious, just looking at her most days, that she’s not okay.

You will catch her staring blankly at the walls, unresponsive. That can be really unnerving to witness, because her eyes look dead. This is her at the peak of her high.

She’s always had an aversion to food, but it’s gotten worse as her addiction to drugs got worse. Leona was practically starving herself. She hardly ever eats anything, even when she feels hungry which is pretty rare - it’s only ever the bare minimum. Her appetite is just non-existent and oftentimes when she does pick at food, her stomach just can’t handle it and she ends up getting nauseous.

She’s always been pretty thin and frail looking, but she’s getting thinner by the day. She doesn’t notice.

BIGGEST FEAR

Thalassophobia -  is the persistent and intense fear of deep bodies of water such as the ocean\sea, river or lake - any kind of body of water that seemed vast, dark, deep, and dangerous.

When Leona was thirteen, she had been invited by a few of the older girls that she went to school with to go sailing along the harbor. Getting the invite had been decidedly odd, since these girls had been her main tormentors for the last several years - ever since she had moved up to their grade (she’d skipped three grades). They’ve done nothing but bully and terrorize her, for seemingly no reason other than the fact that she was really smart - much smarter then them, and that seemed to offend them. Now all of a sudden they were acting all nice and as if they were her friends...it was really weird. 

While she was suspicious, her dads on the other hand had been been thrilled and even encouraged her to accept the invite, hoping that it meant that she was starting to make new friends, after years of having just a few close ones from her childhood. Leona hadn’t told them about her bullies so it wasn’t like they were to know, so reluctantly, she had agreed to go.

The first two hours on the boat was fine, if not really awkward. Always perceptive, Leona could see right through their phony smiles and friendly behaviors - they were definitely up to something. It wasn’t until the sun started to go down, that their demeanor changed, like someone had just flipped their on switch.  They lunged for her and started physically beating her, taking turns hitting her and kicking her and tearing at her clothes. Then the leader of the three - Lizzie - bound Leona’s hands in rope while the others held her down.

Once she was bound, Leona was hauled to her feet and then pushed overboard, where the fell into the depths of the open, ice cold waters of the Atlantic ocean. Though she was a rather strong swimmer, with her hands bound Leona was helpless and so she was quick to sink below the surface, all the while struggling to undo the bindings.

It was only thanks to Lizzie being terrible at tying knots that saved Leona’s life. It took a while, but she was able to loosen up the rope enough to slip her hands free, and she was able to make her way back up to the surface, with only just a few short seconds of breath to spare. When she re-surfaced, she saw that the harbor patrol had spotted the entire incident and had been quick to respond. Lizzie and her two accomplices - Marisa and Erin - were immediately apprehended. Upon seeing Leona floating precariously in the water, the officer was quick to throw a life preserver to her and helped pull her out and into the squad boat.

As all three girls were sixteen, they were tried in court as adults and sentenced to jail for attempted murder for several years. They would likely head to prison once they turned 18.

Due to this very traumatic incident, Leona has since been extremely terrified of deep, and dark water. Although she is adamant able never getting on another boat for the rest of her life, deep down she really wants to conquer her fear. She’d always loved going sailing on her dads’ boat and misses being on the water, but the thought of actually being on one and being surrounded by the wide, open sea just terrifies her to no end.

This incident is widely known around Derry, so the locals who’ve been in town for at least nine years would have certainly heard about it and the trial of the three older teen girls that followed. It was on the news - TV and newspaper alike.

Interests / Likes / Dislikes / Habits

She practically lives at Bartini, the local night club. She works there as head bartender, and has been there for a year, and it’s never really seemed like work to her. She thrives on the atmosphere of the place, and if it weren’t for closing times during the daylight hours, she’d likely spend all day there if she could.

Getting drunk and high constantly, practically every other day (she goes on day-long benders sometimes)

Likes going to a good party, and has a pretty good ‘partydar’ - in which she tends to find parties quite easily. She was such a good girl in high school, and now that she was an adult and living in her own place with her roommates, she felt free to do as she pleased.

Gets along with most everyone, especially those she considers her ‘inner circle’ - those that she’d ride or die for.

She’s a LOT more social now as a young adult than she ever was as a teen, and she actually enjoys being in the thick of things and having a good, strong network of friends or just friendly acquaintances all around her. Because of her job at Bartini and the fact that she spends ninety percent of her time either working down at the club, partying elsewhere in town or going on walks and bike rides around Derry at any give hour, she has a tendency to run into a lot of the locals. Because of that, a lot of people knew who she was, and she them.

 Of course, she knows that the incident with her near death was also a well known and talked about event several years back so most already knew who she was to begin with. She HATED being known as the Derry girl who was nearly murdered by some of her classmates - it was a terrible stigma and tended to bring back horrible memories whenever it was brought up. She much preferred being associated with her job or as the local wanderer.

LOATHES bullies, given her past with them. She refuses to be a victim, and she will not stand to see others being one as well.

LOVES to cuddle, and is super clingy to those she considers her closest friends and family members. Her friendship comes with it’s own little warning label - Warning: Don’t be friends with Leona Lancaster if you don’t like to snuggle.

Has a beautiful singing voice, and isn’t shy about breaking out into song at random, and sometimes in rather inappropriate places.

Has a fantastic fashion sense. She absolutely loves fashion and therefore, loves shopping. The part of her paychecks that don’t go towards her bills and drug addiction, goes towards her rather expansive wardrobe.

Biography

Was actually born in Chicago, IL., to a drug addicted teenage mother (although this fact is unknown to her) who wanted nothing to do with her after she was born. She was put up for adoption almost as soon as she came into the world.

Luckily, she was adopted just a short time later (at six months old) by Alistair and Antonio Lancaster. They were a happily married gay couple from Maine who were looking to adopt a second child. They already had a son, who that they had also adopted.

Leona grew up, alongside her older brother in Derry, Maine. In her early years, she was a happy child, easily making friends with the other locals who were close to you own age. She had a few neighbors who she quickly became besties for life with. To this day, adult Leona cherished every single one of them, and thought of them as an extension of her family.

From a very early age, it was clear to everyone in her family that she was highly intellectual - like, genius level smart. Leona had e a much higher IQ than most her age, and she quickly found her classes to be a breeze - so much so, in fact, that she was inevitably forced by both her parents and the school administrators to skip several grades. She found the entire experience mortifying and traumatic, as all the kids she now had to surround herself with were much older and bigger than her. She hated it.

Of course, being the smallest and youngest in her class resulted in several painful years of humiliation and bullying. Mainly from three specific girls - Lizzie, Erin and Marisa. They were three years older than her and tormented her throughout jr and high school. 

At the age of 13, her three main tormentors were arrested and locked away after nearly drowning Leona. The entire town was quick to learn about the attempt on her life and the subsequent arrest of the girls responsible, but it didn’t make her last year of high school any easier. 

 By the time her high school graduation came around, the then 14-year-old had been ecstatic and relieved to finally be leaving high school behind.

When her dads tried to push her into going to college right after, Leona had adamantly refused to go. She wanted to wait until she was 18 or even older, determined not to have another repeat of her high school years, where she was several years younger than everyone else.

When she finally turned 18, instead of heading to college like she said she would, Leona moved out of her dads’ house and headed to Portland, tired of being in Derry, and feeling like she needed to escape the stigma that still followed her around.

While in Portland, she became roomies with a few of young adults who were quick to introduce Leona into the life of drugs and alcohol and sex, and it hadn’t taken her long to get addicted. Not just to the substances, but to the lifestyle of partying and not giving a fuck about anything. With such an overactive and constantly running mind, she found that if she took enough drugs and drank enough alcohol, that her brain would finally be able to slow the hell down and be quieted, if only temporarily - sometimes enough to let her sleep a full eight hours, other times it was just a couple, but she'd honestly take what she could get.

She stayed in Portland for two years. At the age of 21, she attended a mixology course, and when she was finished Leona decided to move back to Derry, feeling homesick. She hadn’t seem her brother, or dads or any of her friends in the two years she’s been gone and she missed them terribly. 

Instead of moving back in with her dads, though - in fear of them discovering her addiction and forcing her into rehab - she became housemates to Prissy Goldwyn, one of her childhood best friends and someone she still remained close friends with throughout their teen years. It was an easy friendship to maintain, since Prissy lived just a few houses down from hers.

Her dads may not know about her plethora of problems with alcohol or drugs, but her brother certainly did and worried for her a great deal. The two were very close and he didn’t like that she was destroying herself and wasting her potential.

- W A N T E D   C O N N E C T I O N S -

Dad #1 - her adopted father. (50+, Hug Jackman, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Robert Downy Jr, Idris Elba, UTP) Any ethnicity

Dad #2 - her OTHER adopted father. (45+, Oscar Isaacs, UTP) Any ethnicity, although I did picture him being of Latino descent.

Older Brother - Adopted. (28-32 - Ryan Guzman (first pick), Logan Lerman (second pick), Diego Boneta, UTP) He can be of any ethnicity, as well.

Childhood Friends (CAN BE MULTIPLE PEOPLE) - friends she’s had since she was very young. They used to play together all the time in their youth, and have either remained in touch over the years, or they’ve lost touch (since Leona ended up skipping several grades - she left 3rd grade behind to go into 6th).

Co-Workers - either someone who is also a bartender for Bartini Dance Club, or who works there as like a dancer or server or something. Leona does fill in as a dancer some times, when they’re short-staffed and need a fill-in.

Drug Dealer - she will definitely need a drug dealer around town. Whether they have a good rapport with one other, or it’s literally just a business exchange - either way will work and would be welcome.

Inner Circle - those that she considers “her people”. The ones she would do anything for, and who would do anything for her in return. She loves these individuals dearly and with her whole heart, and she is fiercely protective of them - whether they’re in need of her protection or not - but also they’re the ones she’s the most cuddly and clingy to.

[artificialqueens]

Laws of Motion / Chapter 6 (Trixya) - DenDenMonMon

Chapter Summary: Violet was the first one to notice how Katya’s face fell when Trixie mentioned having a date, even before Katya did it herself. She brushed it off with a joke, but was extra careful with her facial expressions when a different guy was mentioned the following week. 

A/N: Firstly, congratulations! You’ve made it past the first half of the story.

Now, some things have been brought to my attention and I’d like to remind you that, even when this ended up having close to no resemblance to b99, it is supposed to be a story based on the premise of the show. Cases and personal issues are meant to be solved easily and in rather unusual ways. I am aware that this is a “cops story” so a little bit of drama and action are expected. I’d like to think that this fic stands right in the middle of everything I just mentioned, this particular chapter specifically. My rambling will soon make sense lol

As always, thank you so, so much for reading!

-Monkey

 AO3 Link

Chapter 6 - Black

The trial was long, and exhausting. By the end of the month, Katya felt drained physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

Katya, and Trixie —and the entire squad— knew there was enough evidence to put Manila Luzon in jail for the rest of her days. The tricky part was the shark of a lawyer that she hired. Katya had worked with Courtney Act many times in the past. She was an attorney assigned to many of the crimes Katya had solved. They were an amazing team that could easily put a case together and throw a criminal behind bars. It didn’t make sense for Courtney to be representing the defendant instead of working towards locking her up. Knowing that Courtney was trying to keep Manila from going to prison, made Katya wonder if they were wrong. Money couldn’t be the reason, she was not that type of lawyer. Courtney’s moral compass was never compromised, she only assisted the innocent; and Manila Luzon couldn’t possibly be innocent.

Going against a friend only added more stress to the situation, to the point where Katya felt close to giving up many times. Courtney knew her, and knew her well. Through the many years working together, they had developed an instinct to predict each other’s actions. It had been a strength, they had been unstoppable in the courthouse. Now, it was a weakness, it was an issue for Katya. Courtney could pretty much read Katya’s mind and go a step ahead of her thinking process. It wasn’t a nice feeling.

All the anxiety played with Katya’s head. She hated how words would stumble with themselves when they tried to leave her mouth. Even when she knew exactly what she wanted to say, her thoughts would crash against one another and come out sounding like nothing but mumble jumble.

There was one single person helping her to keep it together. Trixie. Trixie, with her light sense of humor and unshakable confidence, became the point of balance Katya needed to work the case. If Katya felt Courtney and her vibed in the same wavelength; Trixie and Katya’s hearts beat at the same rhythm. It was something Katya had noticed early on. Since the moment they started finishing each other’s sentences, she knew they shared some sort of unspoken understanding that carried them through the same twisted train of thought. It wasn’t unusual for them to turn a regular conversation into something dark, sarcastic, and insanely funny. Most of the times, their rotted remarks were funny just to them, leaving everyone else in the room excluded from the joke; and they were okay with that.

Katya was completely aware of the spark between them. She kept chalking it up to other things, though. The good days, to their shared sense of humor; and the bad days, to the amount of stress they were going through together. Anything other than actual feelings, worked. She was also aware that the last time she had sex had been with Trixie, yet again, that didn’t mean much. The fact that Katya hadn’t hooked up with anybody else after Trixie, had a lot more to do with lack of time than anything else. At least that’s what she told herself to stay sane.

Violet had commented on it, pointed out how Katya hadn’t brought up any sexual extravaganza in a long time. Just as she had promised, Katya didn’t tell anybody about the encounters she had with her fellow detective, but Violet could see right through her. Violet was the first one to notice how Katya’s face fell when Trixie mentioned having a date, even before Katya did it herself. She brushed it off with a joke, but was extra careful with her facial expressions when a different guy was mentioned the following week.

None of that really mattered when the head of the jury pronounced the words they had so eagerly been waiting for. Manila Luzon was found guilty for the death of all seven young women and given a life sentence for each of the killings.

The excitement was such that it brought tears to Katya’s eyes. She jumped and screamed and cursed out loud when the news was delivered to her. After hugging everybody within arms reach, she went to the cold cases room and cried. A wave of emotions hit her at once and she allowed it. Every single one of those emotions burned deep inside her stomach, and she let them. After feeling too much, all at once, for too long, there was finally freedom. She had done it. She had closed her one unsolved case. Her fears were put to rest, at least the ones that constantly told her she wasn’t good at her job. She could breathe again. It was almost as if she hadn’t noticed the constant pressure in her chest until it was released.

It surprised nobody but Katya when Captain Charles approached her with an idea. He wanted her to take the sergeant exam.

Deep inside her, she knew she could do it. Any doubt in her head about her abilities had just vanished, she had momentum, there was no logical reason to decline the offer. So, she sent in an application. In her mind, her twisted excitement for anything that would give her results, was the only excuse to finally agree. In her heart, she needed one more confirmation that she was indeed meant to do this.

The board was going to take a few weeks to get back to her, review her case and see if she was even eligible to take the exam. In the meantime, they had a victory to celebrate. The whole precinct had been invited to the usual bar that Friday night, it had been a team effort, after all.

Katya promised to pick Trixie up, and she waited for Katya outside her apartment building. Trixie wore a similar dress to the one she had on the night they met. Coming back to the place where it all started felt somewhat important; replicating some aspects of it, even if it was just the way she was dressed, seemed important to Trixie. She was sure Katya didn’t share the same thoughts, and Trixie wanted to believe she was okay with it. She had always been extremely sentimental about these things, anyways. She had stubs from the first concert she ever attended, she kept a napkin from the date she had with her high school crush, even the wrapper of the piece of gum her best friend offered her the day they met. She held on to things that brought her back, that carried nice feelings. Katya didn’t seem like that type. She was such a free spirit, surely she didn’t have a box of crap under her bed, tying her down to the past.

The freedom of her being was confirmed when a black car stopped right in front of Trixie. Katya’s top half stuck out of the window of the passenger seat. The wind messed with her hair as she laughed happily.

“Get in, loser, we are going partying!”

Trixie shook her head, a wide smile dancing on her lips, as she extended her hand to reach for the back door.

“No, get in the front.”

Without waiting for an answer, Katya pulled herself back inside the car and jumped to the back. Her ass wiggled inside the tight skirt as she tried to make her way between the front seats. Exaggerated grunts left her mouth as she pretended to have a hard time doing so. It was clearly an act, there was no way her flexible body could be giving her any trouble.

Trixie was still laughing when she sat on the passenger seat. “Was that a Mean Girls reference?” she asked Katya, without looking back, her eyes cast down as she found the buckle of the seatbelt.

“That would be impossible, I’ve never watched that movie,” Katya answered as the car started moving. Her voice sounded far, almost as if her head were somewhere near the floor of the vehicle.

“What?!” Trixie asked in shock. “Are you for real?” She turned her head to face the backseat. Just as she had pictured it, Katya was lying face down, probably trying to reach for something she had dropped. In an attempt to get an accomplice, Trixie turned to the driver. “Can you believe this bitch?”

“I actually haven’t watched it either,” the man replied. His eyes were directed to the road ahead of them, but a smile made way to his lips. “At least not all of it. I’ve seen pieces, though.”

“Oh, wow!” Trixie didn’t know what shocked her the most; the fact that she was in a car with two people that had never watched Mean Girls, or the deep voice of the driver.

“So, to answer your question, I guess I can believe this bitch,” he continued.

Katya’s laughter was heard, and something that sounded a lot like ‘rotted’ left her mouth between wheezing sounds.

Trixie stared at him in shock for a moment. He was funny, and handsome, sexy even. His look seemed to come straight out of a seventies’ porno, with his salt and pepper mustache, and the top buttons of his shirt wide opened. The tone of his voice was so low and so… sensual. Trixie was right away fixated by him.

“You have a great, like, radio voice,” she thought out loud. “Do you get that a lot?”

The driver’s laughter was even more mesmerizing. “I do quite a lot, actually.” He looked at her, the side smile making him look even sexier. “I take it as a compliment. I appreciate it. Thank you.”

“Oh, definitely, definitely,” Trixie assured him. She bit the inside of her cheek, thinking for half a second before speaking, something that she had just recently started trying. “Can I ask you something weird that may be offensive?”

“Please do, those are my favorite kind of questions.” Weirdly, he meant that. There was not a trace of sarcasm in his voice.

“Are you gay?”

Up until that moment, Katya had been relatively quiet in the backseat. Her screeching laugh sounded loud and clear inside of the small car. Her arms and legs kicked up in the air as she fell on her back completely.

Trixie’s eyes, filled with confusion, travelled between the girl flopping like a fish out of water, and the driver smiling softly behind the wheel. “What? What?”

“Nothing,” the guy spoke evenly, a complete contrast to the dying foghorn in the backseat. “That’s just another thing that I get pretty often.”

“Oh, yeah, I can totally see it,” Trixie agreed. “You have, like, that daddy’s voice that I’m sure a lot of gay guys find attractive.”

“A lot of gay guys and young women too,” he said.

Trixie nodded her head. “It must have something to do with daddy issues, don’t you think?”

He hummed an approval. “Had never seen it that way, but thanks for the analysis. I now have something to think about.”

Katya slapped the back of his seat, apparently oblivious to the conversation taking place. “Hey, hey, are you gay?” She pronounced the words in a girly, sing-song voice, which immediately elicited loud laughter from the driver.

“Oh, God! I can’t believe I almost forgot about that.”

“I always like to know if a guy is gay,” Katya continued with her put on voice, before another giggle attack hit her.

The man turned to Trixie, a look close to apologetic filling his features. “You see, there’s this awful film that Katya and I used to watch–”

“Wait, what?” Trixie interrupted him. “You know each other?”

“Of course, bitch.” Katya poked her head between them. “This is my friend Craig! He lives across the hall from me. I talk about him all the time!”

Trixie was sure her jaw was somewhere near the floor by that point. “No, you don’t!”

“Yes, I do,” Katya retorded. “Who the fuck did you think he was then?”

“I-I don’t know,” Trixie looked confused. “You were in the passenger seat of a strange car, I thought you had gotten us an Uber,” she confessed, provoking loud laughter from the two people to her left. “I am so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“You weren’t at all. Don’t worry about it.” Craig, once again, sounded sincere. “I’m actually the one that’s sorry Katya didn’t warn you I was coming. Now it feels like I’m just crashing your party.”

“No, no. You are totally fine. Hi, I’m Trixie.” If introducing herself after spending, like, twenty minutes in the car with this guy wasn’t lame enough, since she couldn’t precisely shake his hand, Trixie awkwardly waved her hand in front of his face. He surely thought she was a lost case, by that point.

Craig didn’t seem to judge her, though. Leaving one hand on the wheel, his free hand imitated hers and, suddenly, all that Trixie saw was black nails going up and down in front of her eyes. “Pleasure to meet you, Trixie, I’m Craig. It’s actually nice to finally meet you.”

“Oh, my God, Craig. Tell her how we met!” Katya bounced on her seat, excited to once again hear the story herself.

He didn’t object and complied with her request right away. “I collect porn movies,” he let out so easily, causing a gasp to escape a surprised Trixie. It was probably an expected reaction because both Katya and Craig laughed before he continued. “I buy a lot of VHS movies and turn them into digital format. I guess the volume was too loud when I was checking the conversion of a particular movie. Katya came banging on my door–”

“Right in the middle of the night,” Katya butted in.

“Right, right.” Craig chuckled. “She banged on my door, right in the middle of the night, screaming: okay, you horny fucks, either you tone it down or let me in.”

The car filled with loud laughter, and the rest of the ride was made sharing stories of Katya being inappropriate.

“You know,” Craig turned to Trixie after a while. “You are more than welcome to see my movie collection. It’s massive, and it’s not just pornos.”

Luckily, his last words were spoken as he parked at the bar, giving a fast end to what was about to become an awkward conversation. Trixie simply laughed, pronouncing some sort of vague agreement, before they stepped down from the car.

It was still early in the night, the bar had most of the lights turned on and played soft music as background when they walked in.

Craig placed a hand on Katya’s arm. “I’m gonna get us something to drink, would you like a Georgia Peach Coca Cola, if they have them?”

Katya’s eyes threatened to fall out of their sockets. “I will literally give you a hand job, right here, right now, if you find one.”

He laughed shortly, his head shaking in amusement. “I’ll keep that in mind, although, it won’t be necessary.” He then turned to Trixie, with the side smile pasted on his lips again. “Anything for you? Vodka soda, maybe? Or perhaps something stronger like whisky or gin?”

Trixie took a second from inspecting his chest hair to find his eyes. “Oh, I love gin.”

“Gin and tonic, coming right up.” And with that he was gone.

Both girls watched his shirt shining under the fluorescent lights of the club until he was out of sight.

“Isn’t he amazing?” Katya asked excitedly. A serious look took over her features as she pointed her index finger to Trixie’s face. “He’s my best friend, so you better not break his heart.” She then turned around and walked in the direction of their regular booth.

The words didn’t immediately sink in, but once they did, Trixie sped her steps to catch up with Katya. “Wait,” she called after her. “Is this a set up?” She was screaming, she knew it, but she needed to know the answer. “Katya, is this a set–” She had to stop talking when she noticed Katya frozen on her spot.

“You fucking bitch.”

Trixie followed Katya’s stare just to find Courtney Act sitting on the round couch, talking to Sergeant Haylock. For a moment, Trixie didn’t know how to react, Katya’s words hadn’t precisely been nice, but the tone of her voice didn’t seem to carry any harm. Trixie stood behind Katya, ready to react to whatever unfolded next. So, when Katya suddenly sprinted forward, Trixie almost ran after her, until she noticed how Katya opened her arms and hugged the attorney.

Courtney smelled like cotton candy, and not the cheap Bath and Body Works kind. Her skin appeared to be made out of actual candy. Katya allowed herself to get lost in the arms of her friend for a second, basking in the sweet smell, and enveloped by the warmth of her body.

“You did great,” Courtney whispered against Katya’s hair.

They pulled away a little, both looked into each other’s eyes, with big smiles on their lips.

“What the fuck happened in there?” Katya asked. She didn’t have to worry about it being a full question. There was no need for an explanation.

Taking her seat back on the booth, Courtney pulled Katya to sit next to her. “I couldn’t let her get away. I know you, you were gonna get all wrapped up and lose focus. I needed to make sure she got justice.”

“Justice?” Katya was basically yelling. “That bitch killed seven people.”

Courtney, in her collected manner, nodded her head. “And she needs to pay for it, which she’s going to. Honestly, if I hadn’t been there, if I hadn’t pushed you to actually prove her guilty, she may have walked away or gotten a smaller sentence.”

Katya wanted to protest, wanted to scream at her that she could have done it by herself just fine, but Courtney was right. If she had been left alone to spiral down the rabbit hole of her own insecurities, she would have lost sight of the main goal. That could have cost her the case. Katya needed to be pushed beyond her boundaries. If there wasn’t a constant source of stress around her, she would create one herself, and cause a lot more damage.

Before anything else was said, Craig appeared with their drinks. He placed a tall glass of soda in front of Katya, saying it was just regular Coke and apologizing for it. The hand job would have to wait for another time. He then turned to Trixie and handed her the drink she had asked for.

“Hey, sorry if I was too forward. I didn’t know,” he said and took a seat at the other end of the table.

Trixie sipped her drink for a moment, not giving much importance to his words, but then something clicked. When she turned around to ask him, Jasmine suddenly appeared from behind her, hugging her tightly and laughing right in her ear. The rest of the squad arrived right after. Congratulations went around, glasses were lifted and speeches were given. The music started sounding loudly and the dancing started. All deep and heavy topics were put to rest and everybody joined the celebration. It was fun. Everybody had a good time, dancing and drinking, enjoying themselves and the company of their friends.

A few hours into the night, Trixie was finally able to disengage from her coworkers and found Craig. “Come on, let’s dance.” She didn’t wait for an answer, she simply grabbed his hand and pulled him into the dancefloor. He allowed himself to be dragged without a problem.

Their bodies moved awkwardly, both of them tried to follow the music in their own way. Trixie placed her arms around his shoulder, an easy position since she was slightly taller. “So, what was that comment from earlier?”

He looked up at her, his hands trying to clumsily guide her hips. “Katya never told me you were a thing.”

“What?!” She was unnecessarily loud, if he noticed, he didn’t say anything. Hopefully the music playing was enough of an excuse. “We are not.”

Craig’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you two aware of that?” He laughed lightly, there was no harm in his sarcasm. It was hard to believe hurtful words ever left his lips.

Trixie’s shoulders dropped. She had no idea what she was feeling but Craig seemed like a good sounding board to figure that out. As if on cue, a laughing Katya approached them, with Courtney hot on her heels. Katya hugged them and said her goodbyes, saying she had a lot of catching up to do with her friend and the music didn’t let them. She thanked Craig for the ride but Courtney would be taking her home.

That was the last thing that Trixie needed to make up her mind. She asked Craig if he wanted to leave too and he agreed. They went around saying goodbye to everyone. They encountered stares and supposedly knowing smiles as her co-workers wished them a good night. Trixie rolled her eyes at them, but Craig loved the attention and wiggled his eyebrows in conspiracy.

It took them a few minutes before Trixie and Craig were driving away from the club.

“Wanna talk about it?” Craig asked when they stopped at a red light.

Trixie bit her lip. “I don’t know what you mean?” She decided to play fool, maybe she could win some time.

Craig nodded knowingly. “I saw the way you look at her.” He was right next to her, yet his voice came from somewhere far away. It sounded as if his words had to travel through layers and layers of smoke and fog until they reached her ears. “Does she know how you feel?”

A snort left Trixie’s lips as she rolled her eyes. “I don’t even know what I feel.”

He looked at her for a moment, before returning his eyes to the front, his foot pressing the pedal softly. “She’s something else, isn’t she?”

“You can say that again,” Trixie replied looking out the window, suddenly feeling incredibly vulnerable.

Craig chuckled at her response. “What I mean is, there’s nothing wrong with liking her, to whichever extent applies in your case. It’s not as strange as you think, to be attracted to her.” Once again, he turned to face her, she could feel his eyes on her, but she kept staring out the window. “Help me get a better view of what’s going on here. Let’s talk a little bit more about the nature of your relationship. So, you met at work…” he paused there, allowing her to finish the sentence for him.

“We met a few days before my transfer… at the bar. We-we hooked up.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t judging, he didn’t even sound surprised, Craig simply took the new information as it came.

Trixie shrugged, trying to take importance away from the situation. “We didn’t know we were going to be working together, though. I thought it was going to be weird but, you know what? It wasn’t.”

“Yeah, that sounds very on brand for her. She just makes everyone feel comfortable around her.”

She bit her lip again, her brain chewing on a thought the same way her teeth dug into her flesh. “I really do like her. Maybe I don’t know in what way yet, but definitely more than a coworker. She doesn’t want anything serious, though, and I just discovered that I can’t just do casual. So, it’s pointless anyway. I can’t allow myself to develop feelings for someone who can’t return them.”

There were a few beats of silence, before he spoke again. “Come to think of it, she does have feelings for you, you know? Strong ones.”

Her head snapped his direction, his words gaining her full attention. “Why’d you say that?”

“See, I didn’t make much of it then because, well, she wanted me to ask you out. She went on and on about how fabulous you are. In retrospect, she was listing all the things she likes about you, and there were a lot of those. She spoke very passionately about you.”

“She talks passionately about pretty much everything,” Trixie said with a roll of her eyes, pretending to be unaffected and hoping the heavy makeup could hide the redness of her cheeks.

Craig’s laughter was heard again. “You got me there, but I’m serious. I know her. She really does have feelings for you, she’s just in denial; or doesn’t even know it, rather.”

“You really think so?” Her voice sounded a lot more hopeful than she intended but, by this point, she didn’t really care.

He stopped the car, they had arrived at her apartment. He didn’t make any attempt to turn off the engine, though. After putting the gearshift in park, he faced Trixie completely. “I do, I do think so; but, to know for sure, you two need to talk about it.”

Trixie forcefully closed her eyes, pressing her head hard against the headrest. “I don’t know. Like, you can never know with her. She talks very passionately about pickles too, and we are not gonna make a big deal about that, now, are we?”

“I mean, no. Not for pickles, but… isn’t it worth the risk? If you want me to, I can maybe, sort of, plant an idea about it to her, just to be sure where she’s standing. I can give you a call over the weekend and you can take it from there when you see her next, how does that sound?”

“Oh, Craig, you really are an angel.” Without giving it more thought, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. A small token of her gratitude that couldn’t possibly be expressed with words.

They exchanged numbers and he drove away, leaving her standing outside the gates of the residential area where she lived. Not ready to be left alone with her thoughts, she decided to take a short walk, maybe just around the block and back. She bought a cup of tea from an establishment just down the street, and then moved to hopefully find the bakery still opened. The city was illuminated by the bright street lamps and the neon signs of the stores still open at that hour. Los Angeles was beautiful, Trixie loved everything about it. Living there had been her dream for so long, one that she managed to turn into a reality. It was such a happy place.

Across town, Katya was also walking through the empty streets of the City of Angels, but, unlike Trixie, she wasn’t admiring the beauty of it all. She sped her steps to reach her place, and ran up the stairs as her stomach threatened to make her explode any second now. She knew having ice cream so late at night was a bad idea, especially the vegan type that Courtney had suggested.

As soon as Katya pushed to door to her apartment opened, she stopped cold. Everything was dark, her eyes were still trying to adjust, but she could feel it. Something was different, even when she couldn’t really tell what it was. She took a step forward and made sure to leave the door completely opened. Her fingers rearranged the keys in her hands, placing one between each of her fingers, as she walked around the couch.

The shadow became clear. Sitting at the dinner table, the shape of a large woman could be seen. The hair made her look even bigger, styled higher on one side than the other.

Katya reached for her back pocket, trying to get a hold of her phone, but a deep voice stopped.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the woman spoke from the shadows. She stood up, the chair cracking with the weight of the heavy body being lifted.

She was tall, way taller than Katya. Her long legs carried her to close the gap between them in seconds. Katya didn’t move, she didn’t step back but didn’t walk to her either. She stood still, mentally going around the items in her apartment that could assist her if it came down to it. Her observations took her to examine the face of the intruder. She was a beautiful black woman, with makeup that made her skin look smooth under the soft lighting coming from outside.

“Don’t be scared,” she said straight to Katya’s face. There was a pause, Katya could see, from the corner of her eye, how the hand of the woman slowly retracted. “I’m just here to deliver a message.”

That was when the first blow came. The closed hand made a swing in front of Katya’s face, who managed to pull back just in time. Katya dodged the arm and stood behind the woman. She wasn’t going to hit back, she knew better than to attack an unarmed person, but Katya was ready to defend herself. And she did exactly that when the woman turned around, launching herself towards Katya.

Katya’s flexible leg fanned in front of her. She could very easily kick the woman on the head, even with the height difference, but all she wanted was to keep her away. Blow after blow, Katya ducked and moved away, missing, by mere millimeters, the knuckles directed to her face, back, stomach.

“Listen, bitch,” Katya warned. “I don’t want to beat the shit out of you. So you better get the fuck out of my place if you don’t want to get severely injured,” she spoke out of breath. Only a few steps separated the two women in fighting position.

The loud laughter, Katya wasn’t expecting. “You think your skinny ass can do anything to me, bitch, you are gonna have to eat it!”

Finally, the first punch was connected. Katya bent over as the air was knocked out of her, the right fist of the attacker punched her gut repeatedly. It wasn’t a time to defend herself, that moment was gone, now she needed to attack back.

For a moment everything became a blur. The darkness of the place didn’t allow Katya to see clearly. She felt the hard beating of her heart, the sting of rings digging in flesh with every punch, the burning on her arm when nails scratched skin. The room was filled with grunts of effort and screams of pain. Time seemed to stretch forever as Katya did her best to stay as agile as possible in her cluttered apartment.

A lamp was picked up, and Katya felt the pain, even before the porcelain broke against her skull. She dropped to the floor, the warmth of her own blood trickled down her scalp as she hit the ground.

“You don’t mess with Latrila,” was the last thing she heard before everything went black.

The trial was long, and exhausting. By the end of the month, Katya felt drained physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

Katya, and Trixie —and the entire squad— knew there was enough evidence to put Manila Luzon in jail for the rest of her days. The tricky part was the shark of a lawyer that she hired. Katya had worked with Courtney Act many times in the past. She was an attorney assigned to many of the crimes Katya had solved. They were an amazing team that could easily put a case together and throw a criminal behind bars. It didn’t make sense for Courtney to be representing the defendant instead of working towards locking her up. Knowing that Courtney was trying to keep Manila from going to prison, made Katya wonder if they were wrong. Money couldn’t be the reason, she was not that type of lawyer. Courtney’s moral compass was never compromised, she only assisted the innocent; and Manila Luzon couldn’t possibly be innocent.

Going against a friend only added more stress to the situation, to the point where Katya felt close to giving up many times. Courtney knew her, and knew her well. Through the many years working together, they had developed an instinct to predict each other’s actions. It had been a strength, they had been unstoppable in the courthouse. Now, it was a weakness, it was an issue for Katya. Courtney could pretty much read Katya’s mind and go a step ahead of her thinking process. It wasn’t a nice feeling.

All the anxiety played with Katya’s head. She hated how words would stumble with themselves when they tried to leave her mouth. Even when she knew exactly what she wanted to say, her thoughts would crash against one another and come out sounding like nothing but mumble jumble.

There was one single person helping her to keep it together. Trixie. Trixie, with her light sense of humor and unshakable confidence, became the point of balance Katya needed to work the case. If Katya felt Courtney and her vibed in the same wavelength; Trixie and Katya’s hearts beat at the same rhythm. It was something Katya had noticed early on. Since the moment they started finishing each other’s sentences, she knew they shared some sort of unspoken understanding that carried them through the same twisted train of thought. It wasn’t unusual for them to turn a regular conversation into something dark, sarcastic, and insanely funny. Most of the times, their rotted remarks were funny just to them, leaving everyone else in the room excluded from the joke; and they were okay with that.

Katya was completely aware of the spark between them. She kept chalking it up to other things, though. The good days, to their shared sense of humor; and the bad days, to the amount of stress they were going through together. Anything other than actual feelings, worked. She was also aware that the last time she had sex had been with Trixie, yet again, that didn’t mean much. The fact that Katya hadn’t hooked up with anybody else after Trixie, had a lot more to do with lack of time than anything else. At least that’s what she told herself to stay sane.

Violet had commented on it, pointed out how Katya hadn’t brought up any sexual extravaganza in a long time. Just as she had promised, Katya didn’t tell anybody about the encounters she had with her fellow detective, but Violet could see right through her. Violet was the first one to notice how Katya’s face fell when Trixie mentioned having a date, even before Katya did it herself. She brushed it off with a joke, but was extra careful with her facial expressions when a different guy was mentioned the following week.

None of that really mattered when the head of the jury pronounced the words they had so eagerly been waiting for. Manila Luzon was found guilty for the death of all seven young women and given a life sentence for each of the killings.

The excitement was such that it brought tears to Katya’s eyes. She jumped and screamed and cursed out loud when the news was delivered to her. After hugging everybody within arms reach, she went to the cold cases room and cried. A wave of emotions hit her at once and she allowed it. Every single one of those emotions burned deep inside her stomach, and she let them. After feeling too much, all at once, for too long, there was finally freedom. She had done it. She had closed her one unsolved case. Her fears were put to rest, at least the ones that constantly told her she wasn’t good at her job. She could breathe again. It was almost as if she hadn’t noticed the constant pressure in her chest until it was released.

It surprised nobody but Katya when Captain Charles approached her with an idea. He wanted her to take the sergeant exam.

Deep inside her, she knew she could do it. Any doubt in her head about her abilities had just vanished, she had momentum, there was no logical reason to decline the offer. So, she sent in an application. In her mind, her twisted excitement for anything that would give her results, was the only excuse to finally agree. In her heart, she needed one more confirmation that she was indeed meant to do this.

The board was going to take a few weeks to get back to her, review her case and see if she was even eligible to take the exam. In the meantime, they had a victory to celebrate. The whole precinct had been invited to the usual bar that Friday night, it had been a team effort, after all.

Katya promised to pick Trixie up, and she waited for Katya outside her apartment building. Trixie wore a similar dress to the one she had on the night they met. Coming back to the place where it all started felt somewhat important; replicating some aspects of it, even if it was just the way she was dressed, seemed important to Trixie. She was sure Katya didn’t share the same thoughts, and Trixie wanted to believe she was okay with it. She had always been extremely sentimental about these things, anyways. She had stubs from the first concert she ever attended, she kept a napkin from the date she had with her high school crush, even the wrapper of the piece of gum her best friend offered her the day they met. She held on to things that brought her back, that carried nice feelings. Katya didn’t seem like that type. She was such a free spirit, surely she didn’t have a box of crap under her bed, tying her down to the past.

The freedom of her being was confirmed when a black car stopped right in front of Trixie. Katya’s top half stuck out of the window of the passenger seat. The wind messed with her hair as she laughed happily.

“Get in, loser, we are going partying!”

Trixie shook her head, a wide smile dancing on her lips, as she extended her hand to reach for the back door.

“No, get in the front.”

Without waiting for an answer, Katya pulled herself back inside the car and jumped to the back. Her ass wiggled inside the tight skirt as she tried to make her way between the front seats. Exaggerated grunts left her mouth as she pretended to have a hard time doing so. It was clearly an act, there was no way her flexible body could be giving her any trouble.

Trixie was still laughing when she sat on the passenger seat. “Was that a Mean Girls reference?” she asked Katya, without looking back, her eyes cast down as she found the buckle of the seatbelt.

“That would be impossible, I’ve never watched that movie,” Katya answered as the car started moving. Her voice sounded far, almost as if her head were somewhere near the floor of the vehicle.

“What?!” Trixie asked in shock. “Are you for real?” She turned her head to face the backseat. Just as she had pictured it, Katya was lying face down, probably trying to reach for something she had dropped. In an attempt to get an accomplice, Trixie turned to the driver. “Can you believe this bitch?”

“I actually haven’t watched it either,” the man replied. His eyes were directed to the road ahead of them, but a smile made way to his lips. “At least not all of it. I’ve seen pieces, though.”

“Oh, wow!” Trixie didn’t know what shocked her the most; the fact that she was in a car with two people that had never watched Mean Girls, or the deep voice of the driver.

“So, to answer your question, I guess I can believe this bitch,” he continued.

Katya’s laughter was heard, and something that sounded a lot like ‘rotted’ left her mouth between wheezing sounds.

Trixie stared at him in shock for a moment. He was funny, and handsome, sexy even. His look seemed to come straight out of a seventies’ porno, with his salt and pepper mustache, and the top buttons of his shirt wide opened. The tone of his voice was so low and so… sensual. Trixie was right away fixated by him.

“You have a great, like, radio voice,” she thought out loud. “Do you get that a lot?”

The driver’s laughter was even more mesmerizing. “I do quite a lot, actually.” He looked at her, the side smile making him look even sexier. “I take it as a compliment. I appreciate it. Thank you.”

“Oh, definitely, definitely,” Trixie assured him. She bit the inside of her cheek, thinking for half a second before speaking, something that she had just recently started trying. “Can I ask you something weird that may be offensive?”

“Please do, those are my favorite kind of questions.” Weirdly, he meant that. There was not a trace of sarcasm in his voice.

“Are you gay?”

Up until that moment, Katya had been relatively quiet in the backseat. Her screeching laugh sounded loud and clear inside of the small car. Her arms and legs kicked up in the air as she fell on her back completely.

Trixie’s eyes, filled with confusion, travelled between the girl flopping like a fish out of water, and the driver smiling softly behind the wheel. “What? What?”

“Nothing,” the guy spoke evenly, a complete contrast to the dying foghorn in the backseat. “That’s just another thing that I get pretty often.”

“Oh, yeah, I can totally see it,” Trixie agreed. “You have, like, that daddy’s voice that I’m sure a lot of gay guys find attractive.”

“A lot of gay guys and young women too,” he said.

Trixie nodded her head. “It must have something to do with daddy issues, don’t you think?”

He hummed an approval. “Had never seen it that way, but thanks for the analysis. I now have something to think about.”

Katya slapped the back of his seat, apparently oblivious to the conversation taking place. “Hey, hey, are you gay?” She pronounced the words in a girly, sing-song voice, which immediately elicited loud laughter from the driver.

“Oh, God! I can’t believe I almost forgot about that.”

“I always like to know if a guy is gay,” Katya continued with her put on voice, before another giggle attack hit her.

The man turned to Trixie, a look close to apologetic filling his features. “You see, there’s this awful film that Katya and I used to watch–”

“Wait, what?” Trixie interrupted him. “You know each other?”

“Of course, bitch.” Katya poked her head between them. “This is my friend Craig! He lives across the hall from me. I talk about him all the time!”

Trixie was sure her jaw was somewhere near the floor by that point. “No, you don’t!”

“Yes, I do,” Katya retorded. “Who the fuck did you think he was then?”

“I-I don’t know,” Trixie looked confused. “You were in the passenger seat of a strange car, I thought you had gotten us an Uber,” she confessed, provoking loud laughter from the two people to her left. “I am so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“You weren’t at all. Don’t worry about it.” Craig, once again, sounded sincere. “I’m actually the one that’s sorry Katya didn’t warn you I was coming. Now it feels like I’m just crashing your party.”

“No, no. You are totally fine. Hi, I’m Trixie.” If introducing herself after spending, like, twenty minutes in the car with this guy wasn’t lame enough, since she couldn’t precisely shake his hand, Trixie awkwardly waved her hand in front of his face. He surely thought she was a lost case, by that point.

Craig didn’t seem to judge her, though. Leaving one hand on the wheel, his free hand imitated hers and, suddenly, all that Trixie saw was black nails going up and down in front of her eyes. “Pleasure to meet you, Trixie, I’m Craig. It’s actually nice to finally meet you.”

“Oh, my God, Craig. Tell her how we met!” Katya bounced on her seat, excited to once again hear the story herself.

He didn’t object and complied with her request right away. “I collect porn movies,” he let out so easily, causing a gasp to escape a surprised Trixie. It was probably an expected reaction because both Katya and Craig laughed before he continued. “I buy a lot of VHS movies and turn them into digital format. I guess the volume was too loud when I was checking the conversion of a particular movie. Katya came banging on my door–”

“Right in the middle of the night,” Katya butted in.

“Right, right.” Craig chuckled. “She banged on my door, right in the middle of the night, screaming: okay, you horny fucks, either you tone it down or let me in.”

The car filled with loud laughter, and the rest of the ride was made sharing stories of Katya being inappropriate.

“You know,” Craig turned to Trixie after a while. “You are more than welcome to see my movie collection. It’s massive, and it’s not just pornos.”

Luckily, his last words were spoken as he parked at the bar, giving a fast end to what was about to become an awkward conversation. Trixie simply laughed, pronouncing some sort of vague agreement, before they stepped down from the car.

It was still early in the night, the bar had most of the lights turned on and played soft music as background when they walked in.

Craig placed a hand on Katya’s arm. “I’m gonna get us something to drink, would you like a Georgia Peach Coca Cola, if they have them?”

Katya’s eyes threatened to fall out of their sockets. “I will literally give you a hand job, right here, right now, if you find one.”

He laughed shortly, his head shaking in amusement. “I’ll keep that in mind, although, it won’t be necessary.” He then turned to Trixie, with the side smile pasted on his lips again. “Anything for you? Vodka soda, maybe? Or perhaps something stronger like whisky or gin?”

Trixie took a second from inspecting his chest hair to find his eyes. “Oh, I love gin.”

“Gin and tonic, coming right up.” And with that he was gone.

Both girls watched his shirt shining under the fluorescent lights of the club until he was out of sight.

“Isn’t he amazing?” Katya asked excitedly. A serious look took over her features as she pointed her index finger to Trixie’s face. “He’s my best friend, so you better not break his heart.” She then turned around and walked in the direction of their regular booth.

The words didn’t immediately sink in, but once they did, Trixie sped her steps to catch up with Katya. “Wait,” she called after her. “Is this a set up?” She was screaming, she knew it, but she needed to know the answer. “Katya, is this a set–” She had to stop talking when she noticed Katya frozen on her spot.

“You fucking bitch.”

Trixie followed Katya’s stare just to find Courtney Act sitting on the round couch, talking to Sergeant Haylock. For a moment, Trixie didn’t know how to react, Katya’s words hadn’t precisely been nice, but the tone of her voice didn’t seem to carry any harm. Trixie stood behind Katya, ready to react to whatever unfolded next. So, when Katya suddenly sprinted forward, Trixie almost ran after her, until she noticed how Katya opened her arms and hugged the attorney.

Courtney smelled like cotton candy, and not the cheap Bath and Body Works kind. Her skin appeared to be made out of actual candy. Katya allowed herself to get lost in the arms of her friend for a second, basking in the sweet smell, and enveloped by the warmth of her body.

“You did great,” Courtney whispered against Katya’s hair.

They pulled away a little, both looked into each other’s eyes, with big smiles on their lips.

“What the fuck happened in there?” Katya asked. She didn’t have to worry about it being a full question. There was no need for an explanation.

Taking her seat back on the booth, Courtney pulled Katya to sit next to her. “I couldn’t let her get away. I know you, you were gonna get all wrapped up and lose focus. I needed to make sure she got justice.”

“Justice?” Katya was basically yelling. “That bitch killed seven people.”

Courtney, in her collected manner, nodded her head. “And she needs to pay for it, which she’s going to. Honestly, if I hadn’t been there, if I hadn’t pushed you to actually prove her guilty, she may have walked away or gotten a smaller sentence.”

Katya wanted to protest, wanted to scream at her that she could have done it by herself just fine, but Courtney was right. If she had been left alone to spiral down the rabbit hole of her own insecurities, she would have lost sight of the main goal. That could have cost her the case. Katya needed to be pushed beyond her boundaries. If there wasn’t a constant source of stress around her, she would create one herself, and cause a lot more damage.

Before anything else was said, Craig appeared with their drinks. He placed a tall glass of soda in front of Katya, saying it was just regular Coke and apologizing for it. The hand job would have to wait for another time. He then turned to Trixie and handed her the drink she had asked for.

“Hey, sorry if I was too forward. I didn’t know,” he said and took a seat at the other end of the table.

Trixie sipped her drink for a moment, not giving much importance to his words, but then something clicked. When she turned around to ask him, Jasmine suddenly appeared from behind her, hugging her tightly and laughing right in her ear. The rest of the squad arrived right after. Congratulations went around, glasses were lifted and speeches were given. The music started sounding loudly and the dancing started. All deep and heavy topics were put to rest and everybody joined the celebration. It was fun. Everybody had a good time, dancing and drinking, enjoying themselves and the company of their friends.

A few hours into the night, Trixie was finally able to disengage from her coworkers and found Craig. “Come on, let’s dance.” She didn’t wait for an answer, she simply grabbed his hand and pulled him into the dancefloor. He allowed himself to be dragged without a problem.

Their bodies moved awkwardly, both of them tried to follow the music in their own way. Trixie placed her arms around his shoulder, an easy position since she was slightly taller. “So, what was that comment from earlier?”

He looked up at her, his hands trying to clumsily guide her hips. “Katya never told me you were a thing.”

“What?!” She was unnecessarily loud, if he noticed, he didn’t say anything. Hopefully the music playing was enough of an excuse. “We are not.”

Craig’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you two aware of that?” He laughed lightly, there was no harm in his sarcasm. It was hard to believe hurtful words ever left his lips.

Trixie’s shoulders dropped. She had no idea what she was feeling but Craig seemed like a good sounding board to figure that out. As if on cue, a laughing Katya approached them, with Courtney hot on her heels. Katya hugged them and said her goodbyes, saying she had a lot of catching up to do with her friend and the music didn’t let them. She thanked Craig for the ride but Courtney would be taking her home.

That was the last thing that Trixie needed to make up her mind. She asked Craig if he wanted to leave too and he agreed. They went around saying goodbye to everyone. They encountered stares and supposedly knowing smiles as her co-workers wished them a good night. Trixie rolled her eyes at them, but Craig loved the attention and wiggled his eyebrows in conspiracy.

It took them a few minutes before Trixie and Craig were driving away from the club.

“Wanna talk about it?” Craig asked when they stopped at a red light.

Trixie bit her lip. “I don’t know what you mean?” She decided to play fool, maybe she could win some time.

Craig nodded knowingly. “I saw the way you look at her.” He was right next to her, yet his voice came from somewhere far away. It sounded as if his words had to travel through layers and layers of smoke and fog until they reached her ears. “Does she know how you feel?”

A snort left Trixie’s lips as she rolled her eyes. “I don’t even know what I feel.”

He looked at her for a moment, before returning his eyes to the front, his foot pressing the pedal softly. “She’s something else, isn’t she?”

“You can say that again,” Trixie replied looking out the window, suddenly feeling incredibly vulnerable.

Craig chuckled at her response. “What I mean is, there’s nothing wrong with liking her, to whichever extent applies in your case. It’s not as strange as you think, to be attracted to her.” Once again, he turned to face her, she could feel his eyes on her, but she kept staring out the window. “Help me get a better view of what’s going on here. Let’s talk a little bit more about the nature of your relationship. So, you met at work…” he paused there, allowing her to finish the sentence for him.

“We met a few days before my transfer… at the bar. We-we hooked up.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t judging, he didn’t even sound surprised, Craig simply took the new information as it came.

Trixie shrugged, trying to take importance away from the situation. “We didn’t know we were going to be working together, though. I thought it was going to be weird but, you know what? It wasn’t.”

“Yeah, that sounds very on brand for her. She just makes everyone feel comfortable around her.”

She bit her lip again, her brain chewing on a thought the same way her teeth dug into her flesh. “I really do like her. Maybe I don’t know in what way yet, but definitely more than a coworker. She doesn’t want anything serious, though, and I just discovered that I can’t just do casual. So, it’s pointless anyway. I can’t allow myself to develop feelings for someone who can’t return them.”

There were a few beats of silence, before he spoke again. “Come to think of it, she does have feelings for you, you know? Strong ones.”

Her head snapped his direction, his words gaining her full attention. “Why’d you say that?”

“See, I didn’t make much of it then because, well, she wanted me to ask you out. She went on and on about how fabulous you are. In retrospect, she was listing all the things she likes about you, and there were a lot of those. She spoke very passionately about you.”

“She talks passionately about pretty much everything,” Trixie said with a roll of her eyes, pretending to be unaffected and hoping the heavy makeup could hide the redness of her cheeks.

Craig’s laughter was heard again. “You got me there, but I’m serious. I know her. She really does have feelings for you, she’s just in denial; or doesn’t even know it, rather.”

“You really think so?” Her voice sounded a lot more hopeful than she intended but, by this point, she didn’t really care.

He stopped the car, they had arrived at her apartment. He didn’t make any attempt to turn off the engine, though. After putting the gearshift in park, he faced Trixie completely. “I do, I do think so; but, to know for sure, you two need to talk about it.”

Trixie forcefully closed her eyes, pressing her head hard against the headrest. “I don’t know. Like, you can never know with her. She talks very passionately about pickles too, and we are not gonna make a big deal about that, now, are we?”

“I mean, no. Not for pickles, but… isn’t it worth the risk? If you want me to, I can maybe, sort of, plant an idea about it to her, just to be sure where she’s standing. I can give you a call over the weekend and you can take it from there when you see her next, how does that sound?”

“Oh, Craig, you really are an angel.” Without giving it more thought, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. A small token of her gratitude that couldn’t possibly be expressed with words.

They exchanged numbers and he drove away, leaving her standing outside the gates of the residential area where she lived. Not ready to be left alone with her thoughts, she decided to take a short walk, maybe just around the block and back. She bought a cup of tea from an establishment just down the street, and then moved to hopefully find the bakery still opened. The city was illuminated by the bright street lamps and the neon signs of the stores still open at that hour. Los Angeles was beautiful, Trixie loved everything about it. Living there had been her dream for so long, one that she managed to turn into a reality. It was such a happy place.

Across town, Katya was also walking through the empty streets of the City of Angels, but, unlike Trixie, she wasn’t admiring the beauty of it all. She sped her steps to reach her place, and ran up the stairs as her stomach threatened to make her explode any second now. She knew having ice cream so late at night was a bad idea, especially the vegan type that Courtney had suggested.

As soon as Katya pushed to door to her apartment opened, she stopped cold. Everything was dark, her eyes were still trying to adjust, but she could feel it. Something was different, even when she couldn’t really tell what it was. She took a step forward and made sure to leave the door completely opened. Her fingers rearranged the keys in her hands, placing one between each of her fingers, as she walked around the couch.

The shadow became clear. Sitting at the dinner table, the shape of a large woman could be seen. The hair made her look even bigger, styled higher on one side than the other.

Katya reached for her back pocket, trying to get a hold of her phone, but a deep voice stopped.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the woman spoke from the shadows. She stood up, the chair cracking with the weight of the heavy body being lifted.

She was tall, way taller than Katya. Her long legs carried her to close the gap between them in seconds. Katya didn’t move, she didn’t step back but didn’t walk to her either. She stood still, mentally going around the items in her apartment that could assist her if it came down to it. Her observations took her to examine the face of the intruder. She was a beautiful black woman, with makeup that made her skin look smooth under the soft lighting coming from outside.

“Don’t be scared,” she said straight to Katya’s face. There was a pause, Katya could see, from the corner of her eye, how the hand of the woman slowly retracted. “I’m just here to deliver a message.”

That was when the first blow came. The closed hand made a swing in front of Katya’s face, who managed to pull back just in time. Katya dodged the arm and stood behind the woman. She wasn’t going to hit back, she knew better than to attack an unarmed person, but Katya was ready to defend herself. And she did exactly that when the woman turned around, launching herself towards Katya.

Katya’s flexible leg fanned in front of her. She could very easily kick the woman on the head, even with the height difference, but all she wanted was to keep her away. Blow after blow, Katya ducked and moved away, missing, by mere millimeters, the knuckles directed to her face, back, stomach.

“Listen, bitch,” Katya warned. “I don’t want to beat the shit out of you. So you better get the fuck out of my place if you don’t want to get severely injured,” she spoke out of breath. Only a few steps separated the two women in fighting position.

The loud laughter, Katya wasn’t expecting. “You think your skinny ass can do anything to me, bitch, you are gonna have to eat it!”

Finally, the first punch was connected. Katya bent over as the air was knocked out of her, the right fist of the attacker punched her gut repeatedly. It wasn’t a time to defend herself, that moment was gone, now she needed to attack back.

For a moment everything became a blur. The darkness of the place didn’t allow Katya to see clearly. She felt the hard beating of her heart, the sting of rings digging in flesh with every punch, the burning on her arm when nails scratched skin. The room was filled with grunts of effort and screams of pain. Time seemed to stretch forever as Katya did her best to stay as agile as possible in her cluttered apartment.

A lamp was picked up, and Katya felt the pain, even before the porcelain broke against her skull. She dropped to the floor, the warmth of her own blood trickled down her scalp as she hit the ground.

“You don’t mess with Latrila,” was the last thing she heard before everything went black.

[florrickandassociates]

TGF Thoughts: 3x02-- The One Inspired by Roy Cohn

Thoughts under the cut!

I’m predicting it now: Despite the title of the episode, there is going to be MORE than one episode “inspired by Roy Cohn.” Lucky us.

We start off with Roland Blum, a new character I can already tell the Kings are enamored of, injecting something into his face while standing pantsless at a mirror. I will never care about these eccentric, obnoxious characters who take up more screentime than they need to. The only reason I don’t hate this scene is that it’s an effective introduction to the character.

Cut to: Maia in court. Someone’s allowed Maia to argue a case by herself! Her opening arguments are shaky and don’t land with the jury. I’ve also listened to them three times now and can’t make myself pay close enough attention to actually understand what happened, other than that a reporter was murdered (the return of “kill all reporters”), there may have been a hit man, and there are two separate defendants being tried at once.

Maia also calls this overly complicated and I’m not sure what is complicated. The idea of a hit man? How is that complicated? Whatever. Case stuff. The important thing is that the jury is as moved by Maia’s argument as I am.

Maia sounds like a student at their first mock trial. This girl made it three years in a law firm?!

Roland walks in during Maia’s argument and distracts everyone. Maia keeps going. That can’t be the best move.

Hey, it’s Matan Brody! Hi Matan!

Roland’s opening arguments are way more captivating than Maia’s. They’re also nonsense and idk much about the law but what he’s doing can’t be legal???

I think most of what I’m going to have to say about the Roland/Maia subplot is: (1) Ugh, he’s annoying and there’s too much of him. (2) At least he works better than past attempts at the rule-breaking disrupter characters (like Damian). I can actually see what the writers are trying to do and he’s doing that one thing effectively. He’s just ONLY doing that one thing. (3) Maia going to ~the dark side~ because no one takes her seriously when she follows the rules and puts in no extra effort would be kind of a compelling Maia plot, but also, it’s still a Maia plot and we could just give Lucca and Liz more screentime. Hopefully that makes this recap fast to write.

Julius brings in a candidate for the divorce law position. He’s another conservative lawyer, and Julius is optimistic about his chances.

And the candidate-- Geoffrey-- seems to get along with the partners. He doesn’t get along with Lucca, though. I thought Lucca was offered and basically told she had to accept this position last week? Did she turn it down and get put on a hiring committee? Was the role supposed to be temporary?

Anyway, Lucca’s noticed that most of Geoffrey’s clients are men. He blames his current firm for that.

Diane leaves the interview to talk to Marissa. Marissa’s got dirt on Eric and Don’s safari (which I didn’t think we’d hear about again!): They waited 48 hours to take Kurt to the hospital so they could shoot a giraffe.

Adrian is in favor of hiring Geoffrey and notes he’ll bring in 6 divorce clients. For those of you who have more legal expertise than I do, what does this mean? Is there any business in a divorce once it’s finalized?

Lucca disagrees, but doesn’t say anything until Liz specifically asks for her opinion (which, I imagine, Liz does partially because she wants to hear from Lucca but mostly because she knows that Lucca will voice something it wouldn’t be politically advantageous for Liz to say). Lucca thinks they should look for “someone who doesn’t only look at the men in the room.” Oof.

Julius decides to play rank for the second time in two weeks-- this is a “partner-level decision.” But Liz again asks for Lucca’s opinion to be heard, and says they should keep looking.

After the meeting concludes, Liz takes Lucca aside and asks her if she wants the job. Lucca says she doesn’t know. “Well, decide, because this guy is way ahead of you and I’m gonna have to vote for him unless you can make a strong case against it,” Liz says. I love how direct Liz is in this scene. She’s giving Lucca an opportunity but also making it very clear that Lucca can’t waffle on this decision or take her time.

Before he leaves, Geoffrey drops an important bit of information: Julius is at the top of the list for a federal judgeship. Oooh.

Adrian isn’t pleased with Liz. He wants to know why she encouraged Lucca to “rip into [Geoffrey] Payton.” Offering a valid criticism of a potential hire is “ripping into” someone? Okay, Adrian.

“Geoffrey Payton makes sense for this firm, Liz,” Adrian says in that mansplainy tone he so often adopts. I think he’s done it to male characters too, but he has a habit of adding the name of the person he’s talking to at the end of a sentence where he states his opinion as fact. Does Geoffrey Payton make sense for the firm? Maybe to him. But Liz doesn’t need to be told that.

Liz isn’t happy that Geoffrey is conservative. “Liz, you’re bringing politics into this in a way that’s not…” Adrian starts. Liz cuts him off to remind him that politics is already in this (she’s right).

“I’m trying not to let politics get in the way of moving the firm forward,” Adrian explains. “And this is our first hire since our fresh start, so I am having a second look, okay?” Liz counters.

“So. I guess we’re back to ‘who are we?’” Adrian says. Well, yeah, because all you said was that you didn’t have a past. “I don’t think we ever left it,” Liz replies.

“But you do agree we should be looking ahead to the future?” Adrian questions, even though that was Liz’s idea in the first place. (Also that’s supposed to be italicized; I don’t think Tumblr has been keeping my italics when I copy this out of Word. Apologies for confusion.)

Liz sees right through Adrian: “A future where Trump wins in 2020.” Adrian acts like that’s ridiculous, but Liz keeps going: “I see what you’re doing. These associates you’re trying to hire, and this partner. You want to bring in more conservative voices.”

“We’re hiring a matrimonial attorney, Liz,” Adrian explains in his explaining voice. He says politics don’t matter. But Liz (correctly!!!) insists that this is about the makeup of the firm, that this is “exactly WHO we are.” She’s right. (I am now using ALL CAPS instead of italics for emphasis, but only when I remember lollol.)

How did Liz Reddick become my favorite character on this show!? (Well, maybe tied for #1 with Lucca.) I find everything Liz does interesting. She’s smart, she’s strategic, she’s layered and flawed, and she’s so well-written and well-acted. I didn’t think a character introduced as Alicia’s enemy could be someone I like so much, but I was wrong.

(It’s interesting to me that Liz and Alicia were ever rivals. I can see it, because I think they have very different personalities and approaches even if they could agree on many things in many settings. I would also guess that law school Alicia was quiet and reserved and law school Liz was opinionated and confident. Wouldn’t surprise me if Liz was the type to constantly offer Alicia unsolicited advice about how she should live her life (or argue in court) when Alicia was doing just fine without her. I don’t think Liz does that NOW, but it’s something I could very easily see young Liz doing. And young Alicia probably acted distant because she didn’t know how to react. And now back to the show instead of whatever Liz/Alicia related tangent I’ve somehow gotten myself onto.)

Then Liz QUOTES AUDRE LORDE as part of her explanation for why a fresh start and hiring Trump supporters are not the same thing. Liz!!!!!!

Adrian acts like he has the same goal as Liz and a different approach to achieving it, but I’m not sure he does. Where’s the dismantling of the master’s house (mentioned in the Lorde quote) in Adrian’s plan? What I’m hearing is that the firm is going to become more white (based on promos) and more conservative, which will benefit… the firm. How is that going to dismantle anything? Seems to me like Liz wants to create a firm with a mission (that’s also profitable) and Adrian wants profit (and sure it’s nice to be on the right side of political issues when possible).

Goodie. The case is back. As I mentioned, this is my third time through the episode. The first time through I was mildly interested. Second time through I was checking my phone. Trying to write about this? Mehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Blum is obnoxious and ridiculous and SO LOUD and accuses Matan of being the killer, and Maia looks annoyed and doesn’t know what to do.

Even though I wouldn’t wish this man on Alicia, he’s the kind of character she would’ve been able to deal with and hold her ground against. Maia talks back.

Diane scrolls through Eric’s Instagram, dismayed. When she gets home, Kurt is tying ribbons on beer bottles because they’re celebrating his new job at the VA. It’s a job that will keep him in Chicago, so he can stay!

Kurt calls Diane “Mrs. McVeigh” which is kinda cute and kinda weird and since Diane doesn’t have a problem with it I don’t have a problem with it.

Diane and Kurt are ADORABLE together and I love how much we’ve already gotten this year of them just being a couple. I said repeatedly throughout TGW’s run that one character asking another, “How was your day?” was more meaningful to me than any steamy sex scene or passionate kiss or moment of tension. These scenes are why I said that. Diane seems like a different, happier, more playful person when she’s around Kurt. Watching Diane and Kurt flirt in their own bedroom tells me so much about why they work as a couple.

The only catch to Kurt’s new job? He was recommended by Eric and Don. Diane asks why it took them so long to get him to the hospital, and Kurt shakes it off like it’s nothing.

“I’ll be doing what I think is important, and it allows us to be together,” Kurt explains as he says he’s taking the job. “And that trumps everything else.” “Oh, don’t use that word!!!” Diane screams. I. FEEL. THAT.

I like how there are two cases filled with guns in Diane and Kurt’s bedroom/sitting room. The rest of the room is so completely Diane and then there are guns.

Diane takes out her aggression at aikido.

In the hallway at court, some man comes up to Maia and starts yelling at her about how much money he’s lost. “My money went to your pocket, you fucking Rindell!” he accuses. The way he says “you fucking Rindell!” makes it sound like “a Rindell” is an insult and not a name and it amuses me just a little.

“It was my father. It wasn’t me,” Maia fights back. You’d think she’d have found a better way to address this by now. It’s been two years and being defensive cannot possibly be the best strategy. She could try, “I know. I’m sorry, and that’s why I turned my dad in to the feds.” Or just not engaging.

Blum comes to her rescue. Now he’s intrigued: he’s gross, so he RESPECTS Maia’s cartoon villain father. He hadn’t realized Maia was a Rindell, since in the time between last episode and this one she changed her name on her stupid website to “Maia Hanson”.

It’s time for another soliloquy!!! It’s Lucca’s turn and I’m pleased to report that this week, we are talking bruise free!

“So what do I do, Joseph? Huh?” she addresses her sleeping baby. Then she starts singing and in the process gets a song stuck into my head.

“If I fight to take over the divorce practice, I have to put in even more hours, which takes me away from you for even longer. And I love being with you. Isn’t that odd? I never thought I’d be one of those women. But here I am, talking like the world revolves around you,” she begins.

“I feel like I’m missing out on something when I’m with you, and I feel physically ill when I’m away from you. But when I saw that lawyer today, I thought… I could run motherfucking rings around him,” I love that first sentence. I like that she doesn’t say she’s missing out either way and acknowledges that being away from her baby makes her feel differently than being away from her job. That’s not really something you hear people admit that often, and it’s why the soliloquy works well here.

“So, less time at work and more time with you? Or less time at work and I forget about the partner track, which I have worked my ass off for. And it’s not just about ambition, either, I mean, how do I pay for schools?” Lucca’s such an interesting character to become a parent. Independence has been her thing since we met her: She didn’t have friends, and, hell, she didn’t even have a boss. I still can’t figure out why she was working as a bar attorney when we first met her, but I would bet that the fact she didn’t have to answer to anyone was a big part of it. (Also wouldn’t shock me if Lucca didn’t go to one of the top law schools and had trouble finding a job at a big firm until Alicia saw her potential.)

She asks for a sign from the baby and the baby farts. Dunno what that means but it’s a funny way of ending Lucca’s monologue and making her realize she knows what choice she wants to make.

She calls Liz and says she wants the job. I think Lucca will be happy with that decision. Sure, she could pass it up and make her way back to the partner track (this isn’t the only chance she’ll get), but asserting herself now will show everyone, especially Liz, she’s serious about her commitment to the firm. And it seems to be a fast-track to partnership, so she’ll be making more money faster.

Anyway, I really liked Lucca’s soliloquy. I can’t speak to how hard it is to be a working mom since I don’t have kids, but I appreciate that FINALLY, someone other than Alicia (or Caitlin lol) is dealing with this question. At least based on what I’ve heard from others who DO have kids, the way Lucca phrases her options and the trade-offs seems realistic.

I can’t really figure out the meaning of the song choice (Lucca’s singing again) but I think it works.

Diane arrives home to find Kurt putting on a tie. There’s more flirty banter. Kurt explains he’s going to a cocktail party for work and he thought Diane wouldn’t want to come to a Republican fundraiser. But Diane wants to come.

“You won’t like it. Eric and Don are speaking,” he warns. “Are you kidding?! Eric and Don!?!? I have lived my life for this moment! What shall I wear?!” Diane responds. Just writing out the line doesn’t do it justice. Christine Baranski’s delivery of these lines is flawless and hilarious.

Also Diane CERTAINLY has a bigger closet than that.

Now Maia and Blum are at his “office” and Blum takes off his pants, does a ton of drugs, and reassures Maia he’s “not going to fuck her.” He doesn’t use the words “try to” in that sentence which makes me even more uncomfortable than I already was.

Blum tells Maia that you don’t make the story fit the evidence, you make the evidence fit the story. Yawn. You can also win by telling a strategic story. There are some arguments I’ve heard on this show (and TGW) so many times I’m just tired of them. One is that you have to represent Lemond Bishop/Colin Sweeney types if you want to be profitable, which is complete bullshit that does not justify taking them on as clients. Another is quickly becoming this “a story is more interesting than facts, so what if we just lie???” idea. It’s interesting, but didn’t W418 (Peter punching Kresteva; Vero lying to the kids) and F207 (Liz’s impeachment strategy) cover this? What more is Roland Blum going to add to this discussion? Because, entertaining as some of his antics may be (and I don’t even think they’re entertaining), is whatever point they’re trying to make going to be worth what’s sure to be a large portion of screentime? I highly doubt it.

Blum tells Maia some nonsense about how she is “in prison” and doesn’t know what it’s like to be free. Then he gives her a fentanyl lollipop. Go the fuck away, dude. (I do like that he seems to insist that Maia can be corrupted because he respects her shitty father. I don’t think I’m ever going to love this arc but that’s a smart way to mention Papa Rindell: As an icon for other pieces of shit.)

Blum also tells Maia about his hero, Roy Cohn. He goes so far as to say Roy Cohn lives on through him.

I did not know much at all about Roy Cohn, so I can say that this song does a very good job of explaining who he is. It’s also really funny and catchy. I’m on board with these Good Fight shorts. The animation in this one is particularly inspired.

Blum explains lying. I get it. He’s terrifyingly awful. Moving on.

Wait no not moving on, what the fuck is a “wet pussy” going to do for Maia in court?

Now moving on for real: Diane and Kurt arrive at the fundraiser, and Diane baits (though it doesn’t take much effort) the guests into saying offensive shit, which she records.

Kurt tells her delete the recording, and she doesn’t fight over it too much. She deletes it. (I wonder if she has another copy saved. I don’t think she does, but I won’t be shocked.)

Diane takes out her aggression at aikido again, but when the instructor tells her she’s hitting too hard and begins to talk (for some reason) about a Jewish conspiracy (I thought the cut in the promo was funnier than the cut in the episode), she realizes she needs a new outlet.

Badass!Maia’s theme returns. She’s carried the fentanyl lollipop INTO THE COURTHOUSE and is still toying with the idea of sucking on it. Maia, throw it in the fucking garbage. You owe this man nothing.

Is it really weird that, despite having seen characters in the courthouse elevator numerous times and despite the fact that the view out the window is of other buildings, I’ve somehow always just thought the courtrooms were all on the first floor of the building? This makes no sense, and I don’t think I ever registered that I thought they were all on the first floor, but it caught me off-guard this episode that they were higher up.

Maia taunts Blum about the lollipop and he responds with some sexism and by telling Maia she’s a disappointment to her father. I would hope to disappoint that scumbag. I can’t think of a higher compliment tbh.

Oh, the witness who was in a Bishop case and also played a role in Cary’s case in season 6 is here. Case stuff happens.

Blum asks Maia to act outraged when he signals her to, AND SHE DOES. Maia, you don’t have to listen to him and be complicit in Blum trying to blame MATAN BRODY for this murder.

I think Maia enjoys this little act of rebellion (and the approval of Blum) and oh boy, we’re in for a ride. As I said earlier, entitled white girl decides to act out because it’s just now occurred to her she can be “bad” and she gets a thrill out of it is a plot that makes sense for Maia, but also, it’s kinda insufferable. At least she’s working.

“I want to run divorce law,” Lucca declares. “You’re a fourth year, Lucca,” Adrian counters. There he goes again, belittling female colleagues by saying their name at the end of sentences! Also, how is it possible that Maia’s a third year and Lucca’s a fourth year? Lucca said she was a third year in season 1, episode 2.

Lucca turns her lack of experience into a selling point: she’s eager. Liz approves.

“You just had a baby, Lucca,” Adrian responds. Oh, my God. That sentence. That one. That is everything I’m trying to say about Adrian’s casual sexism. It is not ADRIAN’S business that Lucca just had a baby. And even if he believes she might not actually give her all to the job (which is sexist) he shouldn’t be TELLING her she just had a baby. I’m pretty fucking sure she remembers giving birth and remembers that she has a baby. And he caps off that delightful sentence with Lucca’s name, in that same damn tone he’s always using.

(To be clear I think Adrian having a hint of sexism in him is an interesting-- and intentional-- choice on the part of the writers. I’m just ranting about the attitude, not about the writing.)

Adrian decides they’ll interview Lucca like they interviewed the other candidates, and Lucca agrees.

“Ah, you’re lining up your women’s army,” Adrian says to Liz as soon as Lucca leaves. “No, I just want what’s best for the firm,” Liz retorts. Yeah, it’s a women’s army when Liz hires a woman, but a “smart decision” when Adrian hires a man. OK COOL NO PROBLEMS THERE. “Bullshit,” Adrian says.

Yes, because if Liz disagrees with him on what’s best for the firm and, gasp, thinks alienating female clients and passing over their own talent (because their own talent just had a baby) is not good for the firm, it’s clearly just a GENDER WAR. Can’t be a valid reason for that! Liz just thinks boys have cooties and wants the firm to be GIRLS ONLY because GIRLS RULE AND BOYS DROOL. Yes. That MUST BE IT.

Liz tracks down Lucca after the meeting and gives her more advice. She tells her to bring in some clients to prove her worth to the firm.

Do I think Liz is doing this in part because it’s advantageous to her for Lucca to get the job? Yes. Do I think it’s only advantageous to Liz because Lucca’s great and she truly thinks Lucca’s a good fit for the job? Also yes.

Lucca phones Francesca while simultaneously instructing Marissa to dig up some dirt on her competition. Francesca has a book club full of wealthy women in need of divorces (convenient!) and Lucca’s not above using it. I’m not even sure she’d hesitate for even a second.

Francesca’s totally on board and sets up a “Sip and See” where her book club will come see baby Joseph. It works. Francesca sings to Joseph, “Mom and Dad split and I don’t care!” and lollollol this child is going to have quite the life.

Maia and Blum end up at a hospital to claim illegal drugs (unclear how Maia drives all the way to a place before realizing it’s different from the place she went yesterday. Methinks Maia is more curious about Roland Blum than she’s letting on.). You know, I’m not even tempted to type out all the obnoxious things he does and says? It’s just the ones that pertain to plot I feel the need to type out, because the others are just outlandish stuff for shock value. I am quickly becoming as unfazed by Blum’s bullshit as Alicia was by Sweeney’s creepiness. And I don’t mean that in a “desensitized” way. I just don’t care. I already understand who he is and no naked extras or drugs or provocative statements are going to add anything to my understanding. They are also NOT FUN. I want to make that clear. I am NOT AMUSED. Let’s get on with the point here and spend less time on his antics.

(Wow, I was not this off-put by Roland Blum the first time through the episode, but the third time? I’m already done with his entire arc.)

I used to think “trust, but verify” was a Bree Van de Kamp quote and I’m just now realizing it’s a Reagan quote. Well, that joke went over my head when I was 12.

Why is Maia even wasting her time with this guy? Is she going to check in with anyone at the firm on this?

His “trial strategy” is to repeat what he said about lying. Cool. This was useful.

Diane’s found a new outlet: axe throwing. It does seem like a good way to get out aggression!

Blum exists, case stuff happens, Maia wears a horrible suit.

Tara, who has previously cared a lot about privacy, shows up at RBL to confront Diane. Naomi’s contacted her about the abortion. Diane denies knowing anything (and by denies, I mean she lies to Tara’s face) and subtly suggests it was one of the other many people Tara told. “This is supremely shitty,” Tara says on her way out. Yes, yes it is.

“Do you want the result on that Geoffrey Payton check?” Marissa asks Lucca. No, she just wanted Marissa to have some fun investigating!

Lucca goes into her interview prepared. She’s brought in 3 new cases, compared to Geoffrey’s 6, and hers (unlike his) are more than just divorces. (Again, I don’t see how six divorce cases is that helpful. Are these six men going to get divorced multiple times a year?)

Lucca’s also got some dirt, in case proving her worth wasn’t enough. Payton is a Republican, but he’s also one of the attorneys who prepped Kavanaugh. Lucca’s wise enough to know that’s some sticky content right there. (“Okay, let’s just keep politics out of this, Lucca,” Adrian says and I’m only noting it because, again, TONE.)

Diane picks up a flier for the resistance at the axe bar. Nothing to say about this, but it’s obviously a plot point.

Case stuff happens, there’s a mistrial (unclear if this is a good move that plays out badly on Maia’s part or a stupid one she hadn’t thought through), now we have to deal with this in a future episode too. Did I mention that this is totally disconnected from the rest of the episode? I’d be totally fine if it continues to be disconnected since it’s way easier to block out bad plots that affect nothing than bad plots that get wound into the fabric of the show. This isn’t a bad plot YET but I love everything else going on and I’m SO DONE with this.

(I should not watch Roland Blum plots three times.)

I think I’m even skipping over the bigger character based moments of that plot. They all involve Maia and no matter how many times the writers show me that Maia’s becoming more bold, I am not going to care about Maia unless they give me a reason to care about her. On a show where every other character is so complex and captivating, why should I devote any attention to Maia Rindell?

The Rindell hater is back, showing Maia what he’s lost. “What the fuck do I care?” Maia replies as she puts on her sunglasses. I imagine it can’t be easy dealing with constant harassment and she personally owes this dude nothing, but I’m not about to applaud her for telling someone her parents hurt to fuck off. And those sunglasses are ridiculous.

(It’s not the sunglasses themselves as much as it’s the way she puts them on like they’re magic and she’s the biggest badass in the world. This is like the X rated version of that episode of Lizzie McGuire where Lizzie gets detention and decides she wants to pierce her nose to be like the rebellious girl who bullied her in detention. The biggest difference, other than the profanity, is that Maia is an adult.)

Lucca gets the job! Yay!

Julius lets Geoffrey know he didn’t get it, and either Geoffrey didn’t really care or Julius is more opportunistic than I thought, because he asks if he’s still being considered for a judgeship. Really, Julius?

Diane and Liz go to deliver Lucca the good news. This isn’t Diane’s victory but I can see why she claims it as hers. Lucca’s holding the “if you’re happy and you know it” dog, and she is, indeed, happy. I’m surprised the dog didn’t start singing.

Adrian is waiting in Liz’s office when she returns from the 22nd floor. “So, you won,” Adrian says. “We all won,” Liz replies. “No, I don’t think so. Geoffrey was the smarter choice for the firm. Lucca was the smarter choice for you,” Adrian replies. What does that even mean? What does Liz get out of having Lucca in the position, and why is what Liz wants not “for the firm”? I need Adrian to explain.

“I told Lucca she needed new clients. She got three in one night,” Liz counters. “And the partners didn’t care about that. They cared about the dirt that she dug up on him,” Adrian dismisses Liz. Why can’t it be both? They wouldn’t vote FOR Lucca if they didn’t also think she was competent. From what we’ve seen, divorce law is mainly digging up dirt on others and not being afraid to use it, and that’s exactly what Lucca did (this is Liz’s next point, more or less). If the partners were dismayed about Payton’s connections but didn’t think Lucca was up to it, they’d just… keep looking for candidates.

“Play dirty. Manipulate. Backstab,” Adrian says. He says this like these are new dirty tactics Lucca’s pioneered at the firm, like LUCCA QUINN is going to corrupt the firm. PLEASE. Adrian has done all of these things. As Liz points out, Adrian ENCOURAGES all of these things. And what Lucca did here was mild. She asked for the job? She did a background check and made the facts look good for her? And sure, what she dug up was sensational, but it’s no worse than what they dig up on opponents in court on a weekly basis. That doesn’t make it okay, but I’m not going to draw the line here when this is one of the least dirty/manipulative/backstabby things anyone’s done on the show. (Also who is she even backstabbing?)

“So we answered the question, ‘who are we?’” Adrian replies. “Yep. Welcome to the thunderdome,” Liz says with a smile. So you decided you’re a firm that doesn’t know who you are. Best of luck with that. I’m Team Liz.

Tara’s being harassed by the press and Diane’s only reaction is to say “I’m sorry” to a screen and look at a flier for the resistance.

(Hey, does Diane get a say in who the firm is?)

[xx-thedarklord-xx]

I Gift to You

@restlessandordinary OKAY, two things. One, I had this idea in my head and it is probably WAY different than you originally planned. Sorry about that. Two, this is later than I told you I would get it out. Sorry about that. Three, if you’ve got an AO3, I would like to have it so that I can gift this to you, since it is longer than a normal drabble and can stand as a oneshot. 

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               The first time it happened, Draco swore it was just a slip up. He wouldn’t do it again. Nope. Potter certainly didn’t deserve his generosity. Because that was exactly what this was. People didn’t give him enough credit when it came to being nice.

               It’s just that the sight of the eleven-year-old in glasses that weren’t fitting his face, were horribly old, fading in color and just not aesthetically pleasing, had him wanting to rectify this travesty immediately. This wasn’t because he cared or anything. Nope. This was doing everyone else a favor. Really. It benefited society by no one having to see the hideous specs.

               Draco timed it perfectly. He knew that Potter tended to spend longer eating than everyone else. Certainly, longer than Weasley. The redhead inhaled food quicker than he did air. So, when Potter was about to leave for his morning class, Draco signaled the school owl that he had trained to wait for his mark. It took weeks to train the bloody bird. The only problem was that the bird was now attached to him. Which hadn’t been previously intended. At least the owl had proper taste.

               The brown barn owl swooped down, catching the attention of a few stragglers but otherwise the notice was limited.

               Confusion was the first expression that Draco could make out. He knew that the Gryffindor probably wondered why his snowy owl hadn’t delivered the mail, but the boy was too curious to not open it. Not exactly the smartest thing to do but that was just his own suspicious nature coming forward.

               The confusion quickly bled into shock before a genuinely pleased glint appeared in the brunette’s eyes.

               Instructions had been placed in the package, because Draco knew that intelligence was the reason the reckless idiot hadn’t been placed into Ravenclaw. The glasses were charmed to stay on his face until the wearer wished them off. They would mold to the user’s needs, whether the eye sight got worse with age or not. Not to mention, the frames would change to match the user’s outfit, ensuring that they remain elegant at all times. Which was a deal breaker in his opinion.

               Draco’s resolve to allow this to be a brief moment of weakness and a onetime instance, shattered at the flush on Potter’s face and a shy grin flickered on the Gryffindor’s lips.

               Salazar, this wasn’t supposed to happen. The git wasn’t allowed to make him feel like this. Draco Lucius Malfoy doesn’t do sappy feelings.

               Angrily, Draco made his way swiftly towards the entrance, inwardly cursing Potter’s existence. It wasn’t until he almost reached the door that he heard Longbottom’s question.

               “Oh, wow. Those are pretty expensive. Who sent them to you?”

               “No idea.” Potter’s tone was a little awed. “The note just says, ‘To fix your face, finally’.”

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

               Draco was determined that the second time still be counted as a slip up. This wasn’t going to be a regular thing. Nope. Not at all. Because that was just silly. Draco Lucius Malfoy doesn’t do nice things for other people. Especially to Potter.

               Unfortunately, the delivery was not as well timed as last year’s gift. The other two members of the Idiotic Trio were still around.

               He watched his the school owl struggle to carry the packages and it caused a twinge of guilt inside Draco. He couldn’t trust any other owls to do the job, so the bird would have to do it alone.

               When Potter looked to the owl, it was clear that he recognized the bird. The Gryffindor reached out a hand to softly pet the owl before opening the packages with gusto.

               Draco couldn’t hear what was going on from where he sat, but he could tell that the other boy had gasped. It was the way the eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open slowly. Which was a great reaction so far. He knew that his gift would mean something. Not that he cared about that.

               The silence was killing him. He needed to know what was being said. Draco slowly made to the end of the table, pretending that he was listening to a few of his housemate’s conversations before using that as a reason to go a different route towards the exit.

               Just as he passed, he caught the beginning of Weasley’s questions.

               “What is it? Why would someone send you books full of scribbles?”

               Draco rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. Scribbles. That one actually hurt.

               “It’s not scribbles, Ron!” Granger corrected. “I think it’s in Parseltongue.”

               “It is.” Potter whispered, fingers running over the title of the first book. Behind the Wonders of Parseltongue Volume I: The History of the Snake Language and Why it’s a Blessing and Not a Curse.

               “Why do you think they sent it?” Weasley asked, eyeing the book warily.

               “To send me a message.” Answered Potter, placing the book in his lap, only to pick up the second one. Behind the Wonders of Parseltongue Volume II: The Astonishing Accomplishments that Parseltongue has Brought to the World.

               “What message? Because they think you are Slytherin’s Heir?”

               Draco wasn’t going to even bother coming up with a mental reply for that one.

               “No.” Potter shook his head. “So that I can love all parts of me. Even the ones that are perceived as evil.”

               The insight had Draco fighting off a flush. That was not his intention… not exactly. He just hated the thought of others degrading Potter’s ability just because they don’t understand it. There is nothing wrong with being a Parselmouth. It wasn’t dark, vile or even evil.

               “Does the note say who it’s from?” There was suspicion in Granger’s tone, which had Draco scoffing internally. If he had wanted to harm Potter, he would have. It’s not like the brunette even spell checks the gifts. Which was actually pretty moronic, but that was just Draco’s thought on the matter.

               “No, it just says, ‘To learn something, for once’.”

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

               The evidence against this being a onetime incident was becoming a reach, even in Draco’s own mind. But that was beside the point.

               So far, this would probably be his worst idea yet. This was getting rather personal… but he couldn’t allow this year to continue with the mass hysteria that everyone walked around with. Not when it was a farce to begin with.

               This time, he chose to have Russet—not that he named the infernal bird—deliver the gift during a nighttime study session the Idiotic Trio were having in the Library.

               When a light scratching drew Potter’s attention to the window next to him, Draco stepped into the shadows of an alcove.

               “Oh, it’s you.” Potter’s voice took a happy glint to it.

               Draco watched him rip of the packaging and freeze. This was a normal reaction, but he just hoped that the brunette wouldn’t become angry.

               News clippings, articles posted in obscure news outlets, court records and even statements made by the accused where staring up at Potter.

               He watched Potter’s brow furrow slightly with each passing minute until he was full blown frowning as each parchment was leafed through.

               “Hermione!” Potter whisper yelled as his voice cracked.

               “What? What is it? Oh, your anonymous friend sent you something?” Granger hadn’t looked up from her book on Medieval Flobberworms and Why They Were the Downfall of Mermish Society, as she walked down the aisle.

               “Hermione, can the Wizengamot sentence someone to Azkaban without a trial?”

               That caused Granger to peer up at him in confusion. “No, it violates several laws and is illegal.”

               Potter thrusted all of the articles harshly as Weasley came around the other side of the table and read over their shoulders.

               “Oh.” Granger whispered, blinking rapidly. “This isn’t good.”

               “Black is innocent, isn’t he?” There was a miserable confusion in Potter’s tone. But Draco couldn’t have admitted that he knew from his father that Black truly hadn’t been a Death Eater, without revealing sources.

               “Let me guess.” Weasley began sarcastically. “There’s no signature?”

               “Just a note that says, ‘To provide the proof that has always been there, idiot’.”

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

               Sadly, it wasn’t hard to send Potter his gift this time. Weasley was being pathetically obtuse by thinking Potter would actually put his name in the Goblet. Granger was spending time between the two. All he had to do was wait until he knew she was with the redhead.

               It was a bit risky to send the package outside, due to the chance of being caught but Draco knew that now was the best time.

               The sound of fluttering wings had caught Potter’s attention. The Gryffindor put up his arm, allowing Russet a perch to land on.

               “Hey you.” Potter teased, gently running his fingers through her feathers before taking the burden from the bird.

               “Feels like a book.”

               Draco rolled his eyes. Sometimes he wondered if Potter liked to state the obvious just to hear himself talk.

               He watched Potter arch a brow as he picked up, Triwizard Tournament 1410: The Year No One Survived.

               “What a morbid gift.” Potter whispered, aghast. Probably wondering why he would be sent a book that mentioned the deaths of all contestants.

               It wasn’t until he began skimming the chapters that Potter let out a happy shout. “They are cycling through old tasks!”

               Honestly, it was sad that Potter hadn’t gone through the history of the Triwizard Tournament. After the Dragons, Draco had recognized the task. It was the exact same, down to the golden eggs as well. It didn’t take a genius to realize what the second one would be, if one were to take in account of the history.

               “Oh.” Potter whispered, eyes traveling the pages rapidly. “The egg is speaking in Mermish.” The boy smacked his forehead so hard, Draco wondered if it would leave a dent. Which would probably be an improvement.

               Potter looked to Russet with kind eyes and a soft expression. “Your owner is wonderful.”

               Draco refused to let that fluster him. It was just a truth after all. It was a known fact that Draco Lucius Malfoy is wonderful. Everyone knew it.

               “Not to mention rude.” Potter chided with a small smile as he read the note. “To give help, Merlin knows you need it.”       

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               Draco wasn’t sure about this one. He knew he was taking a giant risk by doing this. It was one thing to listen in on his father while home, but it was another to actively go against him. Providing Potter either of these wasn’t the smartest.

               The timing on this one was horrible but there was nothing Draco could do to change it. This was the only way to guarantee that Potter would be alone when he received them.

               He watched the Gryffindor walk down the corridor with a hand curled to his chest, pain on his face and tired eyes that weren’t paying attention to anything. Draco knew that Umbridge had given the idiot detention again.

               A small hoot from Russet had Potter looking up, smile lighting his features. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

               The bird was once again struggling under the weight, but Potter was quick to help. He led the bird over to a bench against the wall before opening the package.

               Potter’s brows pinched harshly as he picked up a book. “Prophecies and Why They Aren’t Meant to be Taken at Face Value.”

               “Huh.” Potter scratched the side of his head. “Cryptic but I suppose I’ll keep it in mind.”

               When Potter picked up the vial, a soft expression appeared on his face and it had Draco’s breath catching. He had to force himself not to look away.

               “It’s a healing salve.” Potter’s tone was pleased but shy. The Gryffindor unscrewed the cap before placing it on the back of his bleeding hand. “I wish I could thank your owner.”

               The overheard gratitude was enough for Draco.

               A snort had Draco arching a brow. “To keep you safe, since you aren’t doing a good enough job.”

               “They sure are blunt.” There was a pause as Potter traced the note gently. “But that’s a refreshing change from secrecy.”

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               Perhaps Draco was feeling petty. Or his pride was wounded. Either one worked. He watched Potter’s face fall as he opened the gift from across the Great Hall.

               Draco didn’t spare a look after that. He already knew that the Gryffindor was sorry but tell that to his disfigured body that would never look the same.

               Dark Spells and Why Morons Shouldn’t Use Them Without the Knowledge Behind It.

               No note had been attached, it was Draco’s way of voicing his displeasure but also because he hadn’t been sure what to say. He knew that the blame wasn’t solely on Potter but there had been a drastic difference in the two of them that day.

               He stabbed his mashed potatoes heavily before shoving them to the side. His appetite had long ago disappeared.

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

               This was the first year that Draco had no idea how his gift would be perceived. He wasn’t there to witness it and had no idea where Potter was even at. It had taken quite a bit of Dark Magic to be able to get his owl to sense his previous gifts. He was counting on Potter being sentimental enough to have taken at least one of them with him on whatever expedition the moron was doing.

               As much as it would be nice having the Golden Boy here for his last year, he knew that fighting the Dark Lord was preferable. Hogwarts wasn’t home anymore. Not with the Carrows here. Not with the violence or the curses. Not with scared children or irresponsible teachers. This wasn’t the Hogwarts Potter knew nor was it the Hogwarts that this place deserved.

               Draco walked the corridors, pointedly ignoring the younger students sneaking out of the Great Hall. Today was mandatory ‘training’ with the Carrows. All older students were to show that they were capable of performing two of the Unforgivable Curses. Their targets were the younger students.

               It had been difficult thinking of something that he could offer Potter, what do you get someone that is risking their life to protect the rest of the world? How do you offer something meaningful when life itself could be taken at any given time? What kind of gift is there to provide?

               In the end he had sent numerous books on counteracting Dark Magic, what to do if one is involved in a Dark ritual and methods on surviving in the unknown. Charms to help against minimal to mild curses, and even objects to ward off intruders had been sent along as well. His gift might have been seen as overkill, but the message was clear, same as the note tied to Russet.

              Don’t die, you bumbling moron.

               Not just for the rest of the world, or even because someone needed to fight against the Dark Lord. No. Draco needed Potter alive for his own relief. He wanted the Gryffindor to live because it was only fair. The boy shouldn’t have to live his life only to die. What kind of shite was that?

               “Don’t die, Potter.” Draco whispered to himself before straightening up at the sound of footsteps.

               “Where did those students go? Did you see them escape?”

               “No.” Draco informed Alecto as he turned around, head straightening, lie easily falling from his mouth. “You might want to try Zabini’s sector.”

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

               This was the last time. Draco knew that he couldn’t keep doing this. Not with the way things had played out. Not with the way his emotions were already too invested. Because if he didn’t get control of himself, then he would be spending the rest of his bloody life sending Potter gifts.

               Draco had always thought sending Potter things had been difficult but none of them would hurt as badly as this one.

               He made his way to the Owlery, timing it enough that he knew Potter had already left. The Gryffindor liked to visit the owls, probably missing his own Snowy one. A pang filled Draco at the thought of Russet dying as Hedwig had.

               Right as he reached the door, a flash near his peripheral vision had him pausing. Despite not seeing anything of concrete, he couldn’t help but feel as if he was being watched. But time was of the essence, so he squared his shoulders and made his way inside.

               The excited hoot Russet released at the sight of him had Draco smiling softly. He watched her jump from one foot to the next before flying straight to him.

               “Hey beautiful.” Draco cooed, running his fingers along the top of her head. “You just saw me yesterday, you can’t have missed me that much.”

               She gave him a reproachful look before nipping his finger affectionately.

               Draco sighed heavily, trying to work up the courage that would be needed. “When I trained you, I always thought that our partnership would be for the one time. But apparently I have no self-control.” He shook his head ruefully at the way his eleven-year-old self had acted.  

               “I didn’t think I would grow attached to you.” If an owl could be smug, he knew that Russet was. The bloody self-righteous bird. “But I did. You are definitely smarter than other owls but also far too kind to be associated as mine.” He held up a hand when she hooted indignantly.

               “But that’s not the point. You see, I thought long and hard about what my final gift should be.” He closed his eyes briefly. “I know he misses his owl, it’s easy to tell by the way he stops here to visit. He has a liking for you, so I know that my gift will be perceived well.”

               A sad hoot had him peering into equally sad brown eyes. “He’ll be able to give you the kindness that I can’t.” When her beak opened but no sound came out, Draco was positive his heart broke. “I already made up the note. I just need to tie it to you and then… and then say goodbye.” His voice had cracked a little on the last word. This shouldn’t be affecting him so much, but Russet was the only thing that was normal anymore, the only constant in his life. Giving up his owl would be giving up a part of himself but… that was alright, right?

               Draco blinked rapidly as he tied the note to Russet’s leg. He couldn’t meet her eyes as he touched her feathers. “You’ll be alright. Potter will take care of you.” That much he knew. He thrusted his arm a little in the air until she left his arm in an indignant cry.

               He walked to the wall, not able to watch Russet fly away. Draco tilted his head until he could rest it firmly against the brick of the owlery, eyes closed tightly.

               It took several moments before he realized that Russet’s wings hadn’t flapped for long. Her movement wasn’t still heard.

               Draco opened his eyes and froze at the sight of Potter in the doorway, eyes peering softly at him and Russet sitting proudly on his shoulder.

               “You would give me her?” Potter asked, breath a shaky whisper and hands trembling minutely.

               “I’m not—It’s not—” He bit his lip, unsure if he could lie his way out of this.

               Potter shook his head, stalling anything Draco could say.

               “I figured out it was you a few years ago.”

               If Draco’s head wasn’t already close to the wall, he would have jerked it in surprise.

               The way the Gryffindor was standing made him think that the other boy was nervous. “I thought that it might have been you during my fifth year. Who else would insult me, you know? But it wasn’t until our sixth year that I knew. I really wanted to talk to you about it, but I ruined that with the bathroom incident. And you’ve got to know that I didn’t know what that spell would do. I would have never used something like that. I would—”

               Draco raised a hand to interrupt the already long speech. “I know, Potter. I know. I wasn’t innocent either. I was angry at you for so long that I didn’t realize that you made it all real. What I was doing held consequences. You were one of those consequences. I couldn’t keep going as I was, something had to give. Unfortunately, that was me. I have accepted this and I don’t hold it against you.”

               “You found me after that anyways. Even after I hurt you.” Potter whispered, eyes roaming. “You sent me your owl and it was a remembrance of what was here. It was a reminder that while I was drowning in responsibility, that reality was still waiting for me. That there really was an exit at the end of the tunnel of shite that my life was turning into.”

               There was a pause as Potter grinned ruefully. “Don’t die. What a morbid note but a demand nonetheless. I’m still here, I’m still breathing.”

               Draco wasn’t sure what to say. The realm of possibilities had past quite some time ago. This was turning into a conversation that he had never imagined happened.

               “Thank you.” Whispered Potter, eyes being far kinder than Draco deserved to witness. “I’m not sure about the reason behind these gifts.” Draco looked down at his hands, not willing to own up to anything.

               “I know what I would like for it to all mean.” The sound of his footsteps coming closer had Draco’s throat constricting.

               “But Malfoy, I can’t accept this last gift.”

               Draco snapped his head up, eyes narrowing angrily.

               “I can’t take your owl from you.” Potter lifted up the note gently. “For you.” The man whispered softly. “I have had seven years of gifts from you but haven’t returned the favor. I think that’s pretty rude of me, don’t you?”

               There was a teasing glint to the man’s eyes and that was the only thing keeping Draco’s sanity. “Now that you mention it…”

               Potter grinned widely, taking the last few steps until there was only inches separating them.

               “Your owl belongs with you.” Draco looked through his lashes, gaining confidence from the way Potter swallowed thickly. “I miss Hedwig more than I can properly express, but it would hurt more to take this one from you.”

               Draco took a shaky breath when a hand tenderly cupped one of his cheeks.

              “I wouldn’t be opposed to a joint custody.” Draco whispered, meeting green eyes that were smiling in a way that he hadn’t seen since before the war.

               A joyful laugh had Draco’s heart skipping a beat. “I can do that.” Potter whispered, face leaning forward, eyes asking permission.

               Patience wasn’t Draco’s strong suit. He lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Potter’s neck and capturing his lips in a fierce kiss. Belatedly, he realized that Russet had flown away the moment they touched but he was too distracted by Potter’s mouth. This wasn’t calm, sweet or gentle. How could it? Not when this had been building for years. Not when Draco had been imagining this very moment far longer than he would care to admit. Not when Potter was holding him tightly, hands roaming along his back and low mewls leaving his mouth.

               “That was the best gift I have ever been given.” Draco whispered against smiling lips.

               The sound of Russet flying up above them; hooting happily and wings flapping rapidly had Draco sighing happily.

               Who needed gifts when he already had everything he could possibly want?

[stormears]

Traveler of Mine (snippet)

Summary: While Hyrule rebuilds its civilization, the Champion Link disappears into the wild again, seeking rest, or familiarity, or a release from a century of crushing weight that defined his life. Princess Zelda and Prince Sidon, the royals who stand a chance against him, pursue him, so that they might bring him home. Link runs. 

1,500-word snippet/beginning scene of a 10 - 15k-ish oneshot I’ve been thinking about. I have a fanfic “thing” I enjoy of Charcter A hunting down Char B with pseudo-romantic intentions. Zelda and Sidon and maybe a handful of random other citizens suit up to bring Link home and maybe ask him out or try to win that opportunity by catching him and beating him at his own wilderness-traversing game. Chase scenes, friendship, friendship-to-romance, lots of horse riding and mentions of horsey things, long journeys across Hyrule symbolizing Link’s metaphorical, huge expanse of crushing exhaustion of the burden he’s lived with as long as he can remember. 

The snippet doesn’t get that far into all that, but it’s what I’m going for. 

The people came back, and so she could breathe. It was her secret fear, her spoiled, hopeful one, that when—if—the Calamity was driven back, the city would stay empty, and no one would ever return. Several times across a hundred years where she refused to age and strained her muscles against the Beast enough for fifty men at once, she thought about this and felt something like humiliation. But once again, Link saved her.

Link’s journey upon waking in his shrine to bringing his newly rallied Beasts with him to take back their Kingdom took him five months. The battle took three hours. After they had rested and woke alone in the castle ruins, they explored. They pushed rubble, collected artifacts that had sat on stone floors and collected dust for the length of a Hylian’s whole life. At the end of the first week, some strangers came in. And more came. And the rubble moved.

Now Zelda does not know the feeling of humiliation. She knows about growing, and filing residential deeds and merchant partnerships. Folk coming into Castle Town came with businesses and families and precious heirlooms to put on shelves. And most importantly, they brought crafts to carry these things with. Carpenters came and mixed cement and brought logs and homes rose up. Link was on roofs more often than not, hefting this and aligning that. He made his intentions known well enough even to those folk who couldn’t make sense of his hand signs. Whether they did or didn’t, he was well in demand. Everyone knew him. Half the population had seen him roaming Hyrule these past months, some of them had apparently had errands done by him, sold him groceries and supplies and weapons. Everyone knew the warrior, the horseman, the moblin slayer, mountain climber, savior of races and dragons and things like that.  

When she  gave out plots of land to a group of farmers, another one came up, with a Goron behind him, asking with great excitement, “Ma’am, where is the Champion? Is he in the south quarter today?”

Where is Link, was a familiar question, usually easily answered. “He’s due for a rest day today. He must be sitting on a castle wall somewhere. I’m afraid he won’t be back for any construction assistance till tomorrow morning.”

“I might have the answer to that, miss Zelda,” said the Goron, who raised a folded piece of paper above all their heads. “I passed him this morning. He said to give this to you, uh, ma’am.” And his arm came down over the farmer, to Zelda’s reach. She took the paper and felt a thin magic on it immediately, some fairy blessing to keep the paper shut. An invisibly bump of sorts told her that the Goron had tried to open this letter and failed.

“Thank you, sir. I’m so glad it’s safe and unopened.” She gave him a fine grin and made sure to look him in the eyes as she opened it up. The Goron kept a straight face in front of her.

Zelda did not keep her straight face. The letter was from Link, written in his passable, leaning scratch and saying words she really had not expected to see or read this morning:

Zelda,

I’m leaving for a while. Don’t know when I’ll be back I need to be away Im very tired. Please accept my  apologies. Reconstruction of castle Town is going well I don’t think they really need me anymore. I think I want to, be in the wild again it helps me sleep and I’ve felt heavy and strange since we won the battle again I am sorry. Take care of yourself my princess

At the bottom he signed his name the way he used to, a century ago when he was a trained soldier. The elegant precision and large L seemed to be written by an entirely different hand than the one who had written the message itself. Zelda dared to think ‘Who wrote this?’ as she scanned it a second time. It seemed like a tiny work of fiction. A small handful of collapses in the grammar and spelling. It didn’t matter. Link probably hadn’t written letters for a hundred years. Link had left her without telling her so. Heavy and strange. What in the hell did that mean? She read it again, again. Im very tired.

‘Well, I know that, silly goose,’ she wanted to laugh. ‘You are the most tired man in the land right now.’ But it didn’t feel funny at that moment. That lying Goron was still looking at her.

She looked up with her same smile. “He says he’s gone out for some fresh air. Won’t be back for a while. I say he could use a good long break.” She nodded to herself and folded up the paper into a little scroll and tied it with a spare hair ribbon. She hooked it onto her belt where it would not be taken or read. “The first zone of the town is properly gridded off and our buildings are coming along nicely. We can do without his help for now.”

“Oh nooo!” moaned a lady with a cloth cap from behind them. “I hoped to see him today! I promised him free blackberry wine, you know! He, I think he made a sign saying he’d take it.”

“When will he be back, milady?” asked the man she’d been talking to before this nonsense started, and Zelda told him “Long enough for a decent vacation,” and hoped he would shut up. To assure that he would, she made a show of taking a new set of important paperwork in her hands and walking away. She could be busy anywhere. With the construction, the lake and reservoir diggers, the Zora party asking for trade, that asshole who said his grandfather was a Councilman, some horse association, lots of things.

Zelda made time for many of these things until just after sunset, when construction crews were piling up lumber for the night and lazing about. They left town or took shelter at the one inn that was close enough to complete to comfortably stay in, and any new residents did the same. Several folk during the day had asked about Link, was he coming to this area soon, was he around, did he have lunch plans? Zelda excused him each time, but she knew with each one that her placating couldn’t last forever. Or even for long. This town was growing new life again because of Link. It was all because of Link. He was the one people really knew. Not her, not usually. Even if her name was on everything and she carried the Goddess blood and every person she spoke to was her subject now, people nodded these facts away and asked to see the Champion Link, please. And so did she.

He was her appointed knight and constant companion through every trial and struggle and sunny day. She had known him since they were small. She knew him before he started tying his hair back. She watched him fall and cut himself on grown men’s swords and then wield them on the back of a horse. She told him to stand by her while a great godly demon threatened to swallow them and erase them from existence. She had known him so long, trusted only him by that point, that she could only choose him now. Link was at her side for everything and she loved him for it in some way. His loyalty was stronger than the might of Ganon. He hadn’t even told her to her face that he was leaving her alone.

“Are you all right?” she murmured in her half-broken room that night. She felt she was close to sleeping and dreaming this away. “I know you’re tired. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I need you for everything.” There was no one here to apologize to her, to say it’s okay, or I am always at your side, or some such thing. Link was gone. Was it absurd, that she wanted to cry? That she was crying.

‘If it helps you sleep and rest and finally...feel good again, then you must do it,’ she thought, for speaking was out of the question now. Her lip was wobbling like a soft child’s. She wiped at her wet eyes. ‘I didn’t know you felt heavy and strange. And tired. I’m sorry, Link. I’m sorry! Should I come get you? Do you want me to help you?’ No answer here. There was a light wind outside, delaying the silence.

When the silence was back she thought, ‘You rest, my Champion, and if you are not well or back soon, I will come find you.’

-

This came out significantly more emotional that I first intended. But we’re rolling with it. Eventually Zelda will decide Link’s been gone too long and she’s worried about him and enlist Sidon to help her since I guess she knows they fought Vah Ruta together and Sidon would want to help. This was originally a purely Sidlink idea but Zelda wormed her way in there and we may have some sort of Zelda x Link x Sidon thing on our hands. Or maybe I’ll pick one in the end, eh, I’m not sure yet. I planned this in my head when I was playing BotW to distract me from failing to write other WIP fics that I frankly care much more about. 

And as Link keeps eluding them (he secretly takes up “work” at various Hyrule stables, he’s the one who goes to collect horses off of mountaintops and shit when people ask to “board” them like the player would, so he keeps escaping with both his natural athletic skills and his retinue of infinite horses lmao) Zelda and Sidon will feel less “poor dear Link, we must find him and make sure he’s okay” and more “That clever BITCH, I almost had him, he’s too good, soon I’ll have him in my arms you hear me my dear Link I’m coming for you” 

That’s the kind of fic I’d like to read anyway, so here I am writing it :/