#so that means i'll shove the end of book 1 and the beginning of book 2 into another book

[lemonandlime22]

Hello! May I request bitey!child! reader with the housewarrdens and they find out why reder is like that.

Also love your scenarios! Just make sure to drink water and get enough reast!

Riddle & Leona find out the reason for the bitey child!Yuu's biteynes [pt 1]

Warning(s):

Word count: 1k

A/N: Aww tysm! I'm glad you like them! You too hun! I hope you enjoy it. I was originally planning on doing them all at once but I just got too excited to share it so here is pt 1, and I'll post the rest soon.

[Bitey child!Yuu Masterlist]

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Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle has hated your biting from the beginning, and has wholeheartedly believed that you were just a miss behaving child

and no matter how fond of you he begrudgingly gets. he will always believe that

but that 'always' got cut short around the end of B4 and the beginning of B5 right after winter brake.

Riddle was in his room unpacking his things, he had just gotten back from winter brake and was ready to jump straight back into work. But he didn't, he was going to give himself the day to prepare and destress from the brake. He had spoken to his mother about his life and how she raised him, but he didn't want to think about that now, he was just going to unpack, get all his books in order, maybe he get have one of Trey baked goods he brought back-

*BANG**BANG**BANG*

Riddle jumped at the bagging coming from his door but quickly composed himself and answered it. Before he could begin to lecture the person about how to properly knock of someone's door, the Heartslabyul student just shoved Yuu in between themself and the Housewarden. Yuu didn't waste a second before the hugged onto Riddles lags.

"Watch your child!" Was all they said before quickly leaving to avoid that inevitable lecture Riddle was shocked but quickly snapped out of it and led them to his bed.

He took a deep breath before he started talking, "Ok. What did you do? Did bite them?" His stern voice did nothing to shake Yuu, they had grown used to it at this point. Yuu simply nodded their head with a smile before climbing onto his bed. Riddle felt his face grow redder with frustration. He had tried for months to get them to stop this violent behavior, but it never worked.

No matter what he did it never changed.

No matter how many collars he put on them.

Or how many lectures he gave them.

They. Never. Stopped.

His patience was running incredibly thin.

Riddle breathed in slowly then back out at the same speed, trying to do those breathing exercises Cater had shown to him. He didn't want to get too mad at them, but it was getting increasingly hard not to. As They sat there, happily laying on the covers, Riddle started to pace, both trying to calm down and think of any more possible ways of stopping them.

Then it hit him, why hadn't he thought of it sooner? Riddle stopped in his tracks and slowly walked back to his bed.

"Yuu, may I ask you a question?" Riddle pulled them up so they were sitting upright and facing him.

Yuu just hummed in acknowledgment. Riddle sighed and continued, "Where did you learn to bite people? Did anyone teach you too? Or did you perhaps see someone else do it?"

"Huh...?" They tilted their head, not understanding what Riddle was asking "What...?"

He breathed in deeply again and pushed the frustration back down. "I mean... You bite people, that is not good. I want to help you change that, but first I need you to tell me where you saw it, or who taught you to do it."

"Oh... I dunno... I just do, I don't want 'em to hurt me i guess..."

Riddle's breath hitched and his heart started to race, his mind instantly went to the worst-case scenario. Did someone hurt Yuu so badly and so frequently that they had to bite and make it a habit??

"What- What happened!?"

After hearing your story, Riddle breathed a sigh of relief

what you went through was horrible

but at the very least it wasn't as terrible as the things he was imagining.

After this he becomes far more patient and soft with you, and he works with Grim to help you feel safe

he also checks up on you far more often throughout the day.

Riddle feels quite idiotic now that he looks back on it, for not figuring out sooner who you have bitten,

I mean, now that he thought about the people you had bitten, most either fit the typical intimidating person or just gave off a bad feeling.

He made you stay the night at Heartslabyul that day, and it also became more often for him to invite you over as well

he just wants to reinforce the knowledge that you are safe.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona never cared all that much for you, but he'd be lying if he said he doesn't find you amusing, like when you try to help out Ruggie with making/bringing him his lunch, doing his laundry,

or when he finds you had cuddled up into his side while he was napping, even when you'd play with his tail while you thought he was asleep.

He never cared about why you'd bite people, just as long as you kept being funny and biting others and not him

but he did end up finding out why, not through you, but through Cheka, just a couple days before winter break.

"Unca! Unca!!" Leona groaned and turned over at the sound of his young nephew, who was running towards him in the botanical garden. Cheka was meant to be with Yuu at Ramshackle right now, so Leona assumed that you two were coming to bother him. But when the footsteps got closer he noticed there was only one pair and turning over, and sure enough, there was only Cheka coming his way. It was strange, the two of you were never far from one another when Cheka came to visit.

"What'd you want Cheka" He grumbled and closed his eyes again, instantly shutting down that ever so small carious, and maybe even worried feeling. "It's Yuu!" Cheka said trying to catch his breath "They need to come with us back home next break!". Leona groaned again, this was far from the first time the little lion had demanded Yuu stay with them. "Why this time?" Leona lazily replied, deciding to entertain the young boy so he leaves faster. "So they won't be alone anymore." The look on Cheka's face was pure determination, and Leona already knew it was going to be a pain to try and deter him. "I already told you, they won't be alone, they've got the Grim and the ghosts." The grumpy lion turned back over, his back now facing his nephew.

Cheka huffed and plopped onto his uncle's side "That's not what I mean!" "Then what do you mean?" Leona replied in a bored tone, already regretting his choice of staying awake. "I mean they should live with us!"

Leona nearly chocked on his own spit at his nephews words. Yuu? live in the same building as him?? For who knows how long??? AGAIN!?!? He'd rather actually choke then that ever happening. "And why the hell would they need to live with us?? They already live in Ramshackle."

"But they disserve an actual home for once! Please Unca! Please!" Cheka slid down his uncles side to the front of him and showed off the best puppy dog eyes he could muster. Those words confused Leona, what exactly did Cheka mean by 'Actual home for once'? "...No. They already have a home." He huffed and closed his eyes once more. "Besides, Crowley's going to send them back to their actual home soon enough."

"What?!?" Cheka shot up "No! They can't go back! They'll be alone with those mean store people again!" The small boy claimed up up onto Leona's side once more and started to shake the man as best his small arms could. "Come on Unca! You gotta stop him from sending them back! you gotta!!"

Cheka continued to scream and shake his uncle until he had enough, he sat up and garbed the boy to sit in front of him. "Ok- ok- oK! Why in the great seven can't they go back!?"

Leona had expected Cheka to say that he would miss them or smth like that

not your entire life story.

In all honestly he doesn't know how to feel

but he does understand your reasoning and why you and Ruggie get along so much.

He never confronts you about this and doesn't change the way acts around you

except he is just slightly more gentle with you if you squint.

Oh and he just told Cheka to talk to his Dad about you staying with them.

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[tarlos-spain]

Chapter 02

@trickzill-art Here you go the new chapter

He had everything ready, the table perfectly tidy, a steaming cup of tea by his side and a plate with his favorite cookies. He had put on the playlist that had helped him so much to write his first novel and the videos of natural landscapes that made him feel good.

Santiago was convinced he had everything ready to start writing the first chapter of his new novel. After all, the prologue was done, he had already introduced his protagonist, he could see Sam and the image of Joshep as a teenager made him smile, because he was perfect for the character.

What could go wrong? If it was a good day, he could have a draft of chapter one so he could revise it and send it to Oliver. Before the end of the day, he would no longer have the pressure of having nothing written, and he wouldn't have to keep getting the constant messages from his editor asking how the new manuscript was coming along.

He sat in front of the computer, took a deep breath, and put his hands on the keyboard ready to begin.

And suddenly the message came.

Oliver Talbot: Santiago, my boy. I woke up today with the feeling that you are going to make me happy. Tell me I'm not wrong and that our new book is on the way.

The last thing Santiago needed at that moment was any kind of pressure. But apparently Oliver felt differently.

Me: I don't know if I'm going to give you joy, but I've got a prologue done, no big deal, a couple of pages. I was going to get on to the first chapter now.

Oliver Talbot: I send you all the good vibes possible to be able to read something soon... Do you know when that will be?

Me: If you let me, I'll try to write the first chapter today. But for that I have to concentrate and you know I don't take interruptions well. It's not something compatible with inspiration.

Oliver Talbot: Of course, of course. I just want you to keep in mind that I have to tell something upstairs. And when I say tell them I mean show them. You remember that, right?

Me: I remember it better now than I did five minutes ago. Thank you for not giving me any more pressure when I was going to get down to writing.

Oliver Talbot: My pleasure. I'll talk to you tonight to see how prolific you managed to be today.

Santiago waited a few seconds to see if any more messages came in, but nope. Apparently his editor had already gone quiet making him nervous. He tried again to concentrate on the computer screen.

On the top of the page, he had written the words Chapter 1. He prepared to continue and tried several things. The first sentence of a book was always the most complicated, it was the one that set the mood for the rest of the manuscript and so he had to be very careful with it. He tried it one way, then another, he started with one character and then another. Ideas came, then others did, but none of them really convinced him.

Almost an hour later, after drinking half of the tea and having the other half already cold and frustrated because he had not managed to write that first sentence, he decided to watch a little television to disconnect and try again later.

He just managed to watch one episode on Netflix and want another but not to get down to writing.

He grunted, grabbed the computer, shoved it in his bag, slung it over his shoulder and left the house. He needed to go somewhere where he could concentrate for at least a few hours and be able to start writing.

Going to the Finca del Café was his first idea. After all Joshep was his great inspiration for writing. He had thought maybe he should tell him that he wasn't stalking him if he was now going to spend half a day, every day, at his job looking at him.

He went straight to the counter to order the same as the day before. He smiled and looked around for Joshep, but only saw his partner and one other barista he'd seen a few other days working there.

"Something tells me you're looking for someone." Said the young woman with the golden hijab around her face and a tender smile.

"No, I'm not looking for anyone, I just wanted to know if..."

"I saw you two talking yesterday and I saw how you were looking at Joshep. Relax he noticed too, but he's not here yet." She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket to look at the time. "I hope he comes soon because Josh, our manager, doesn't like delays, can I get you something while you wait?"

"I'm really not waiting for him. I'm a writer and yesterday I got the inspiration I needed to start my new book."

"Of course you did. And that inspiration has a name." She smiled again. "Tell me I'm good for you to go along with your inspiration."

"Not-too-hot mocha choco with a shot of cinnamon."

"Coming right up. Go sit at yesterday's table if you want, I'll bring it to you in a minute.”

Santiago accepted the barista's offer and settled at the table by the window. He had always believed that seeing things happening outside could help him find some unique scenes for his stories.

Although Joshep didn't arrive for another thirty minutes, the place itself was enough to allow him to begin writing his chapter.

2 September - Sam

At seventeen, when you are the daughter of two of the most renowned doctors in the country, you feel invincible, even though you are just a child. In the hospital where your father works, they look at you, they greet you and the most novice interns worry you about your father, about his character, about how he likes to work and if they can do anything to get his attention.

In high school, part of which your parents support every month, each of them paying huge sums of money to show how much they love you, even if they are on the other side of the country or spend all day in the hospital working, you are the queen, they idolize you, they look at you with respect and envy. You have friends wherever you want, because everyone wants to be close to you and having the perfect boyfriend seems like the easiest thing in the world.

At seventeen, however, the first day of school is terrifying, because when you're about to leave for school, you're not even close. When you're about to go to bed the night before, you realize that your reign is coming to an end, the life you've known for your entire existence has an expiration date, in nine months, when the school year ends. Then the queen will leave her crown, the queen will leave her throne and Arya Stark in Game of Thrones will become a nobody wherever she goes.

Those were my first words, in the new diary I started that night. It was my tradition, new course, new journal. I had a shelf full of all the journals I had written since my penmanship had been good enough to express my feelings.

For that last course I had chosen a much more adult design. Over the summer I had become interested in the photos of a new clothing designer. It was unique, my father hadn't been cheap to get it but the surprise of his gift had been incredible.

I had taken a moment to listen to the sound of the pages opening and the characteristic smell of a new book, which always made me smile.

I filled in the first few pages and put it away in my nightstand drawer. I was exhausted, nervous and also a little scared, because of the new course.

Like every year, I had spent the weekend looking at the photos of all the classmates of the new course. I knew most of them perfectly well, but there were always new people and I wanted to be sure I knew what I was going to meet.

There was a new girl, Ekaterina Petrov, recently arrived in the United States from Russia; her father was a basketball player and her mother a television star in her country. Ekaterina stood out for her good grades, although two years ago she had dropped half of her subjects, although the high school report did not say why.

There was also a Japanese boy, Aiko Yamada, an orphan and apparently heir to a small fortune. It said that it had been a traffic accident from which Aiko had barely escaped with her life and had been in a coma for a week. In the report, he said that he had been left with sequelae that slowed him down when it came to memorizing.

Finally there were two Spanish twins, Daniel and Veronica Torres. Their mother was a businesswoman and had moved to the United States to open a new location for her business. Nothing was said about the father

If you are wondering how I had access to the list of all my classmates, let's just say that the head of studies passed through my father's hands in the hospital because of an intoxication of something bad.

We were going to be twenty classmates; one of my friends had moved with her parents to Miami and another boy, Matt Douglas, with whom I never got along with was not still in school either. So once I was sure I had a handle on all my classmates, I went to the kitchen to make him tea as I do every night and got ready for bed.

The tea took away my nerves, while I read a little. Every night before going to sleep I read a chapter of whatever book I was reading, so when I noticed that my eyes were closing, I put the book aside and curled up in the bedclothes.

My father wouldn't be back until after two o'clock. He always made sure I noticed, when I left my keys in the hallway cabinet or when I went upstairs, he would come to my bedroom door and whistle softly.

Before eleven o'clock, exhausted after a very long day, I fell asleep.

A little later, the impossible happened.

It was a start, there was no denying it, and his typing speed was good. He was happy with what he was doing, then he heard the sound of the door opening and when he looked up, he realized that Joshep was walking in, with a huge smile on his lips and he almost seemed to be able to hear him humming.

"Have you seen what time it is?" Amara said pulling him and pushing him towards the storeroom so he could change clothes. "You're very lucky Josh isn't around yet, because you've gotten off easy."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, but I promise you I had a good reason for my delay, one he's not going to like too much." Amara stared at him waiting for him to keep talking, like someone waiting for a bomb to go off. "You know that store Rick and I were looking at last week? The one that would be perfect for opening my own coffee shop?"

"I remember you dragging your boyfriend last week to look at a local while he was on the phone with I don't know what client of his. I think you could have taken him to the zoo and he would have been just as interested."

"Don't say that, Amara. Rick is always tied up with work. It's not easy being the best real estate agent in town for three years in a row without working very hard."

"Yeah well...I remember the place, yes."

"I've signed the contract to buy it," Joshep said with a few small hops and an even bigger smile on his lips. "You're not saying anything?"

"You bought it with Rick's money?"

"It's not Rick's money, it's what we have put into the joint account...even though most of that money is Rick's, yes. I'm putting in as much as I can from my paycheck."

"You put most of it in, because it can't cost you much for the mousetrap you live in."

"Do you always have to be so direct?"

"You know I do and you know I'm usually right. You know also that I only want the best for you because I love you so much. You are one of my best friends and I would hate for you to get hurt or have your heart broken."

"Amara. I know you don't like Rick, but I'm sorry, we're in love we're doing well and, I don't know, I guess after we get going with the coffee shop, the logical thing to do would be to think about getting married."

"How about before you embark on a business venture or get married you two move in together?"

Joshep murdered his friend with his eyes. It wasn't the first time Amara had said something like that to him and he couldn't say she was wrong. Many times he had tried to bring it up when talking to Rick. It seemed normal that after five months together, Joshep would move into the huge two hundred square meter apartment Rick had downtown.

He couldn't wait to be able to leave the small thirty-meter space that he was renting in Brooklyn. Besides, if he hadn’t to pay rent he would have been able to save even more for his coffee shop.

However, every time they talked about it, Rick seemed to have a ready-made reason to dissuade him. Either they hadn't been together long enough, his house was going through some remodeling, or he was simply too swamped with work to think about moving, even if he wouldn’t be the one uprooting his everything. Last time he had told Joshep they were fine as they were and Joshep had simply, as always, accepted it.

"When do you plan to tell Rick then?"

"He'll stop by today so we can have a bite to eat together on my break. I bought his favorite cake to celebrate."

Amara shrugged, he didn't like Rick, though he wasn't a bad guy, he simply wasn't Joshep's better half. They had nothing in common, except apparently a lot of chemistry in bed. They had different friends, opposites even. Rick was an office man, with a briefcase and tie, on the hundredth floor of a skyscraper, working glued to a laptop and cell phone all day, while Joshep was happy on the other side of a bar, meeting new people every day. He loved working in front of the public, putting on his converse and apron. He enjoyed the shifts because, he said, it allowed him to meet different types of people every day or every week and on top of that he was giddy.

"Well, while you're waiting for your prince charming to come, you might like to know that someone else has come to see you." Amara motioned him toward the table where Santiago was sitting.

The writer was looking in their direction and raised the second cup of coffee toward them. Joshep smiled back and grabbed the soap and two washcloths to wipe down the tables around Santiago's.

"Hi." Joshep greeted him. "You're back. Is it because the coffee we make here is exceptional or because you needed a place to write again?"

"A little of both." Santiago didn't want to say that his real reason was to see him again and hoped it wasn't too noticeable. "I hate writing in the silence of home and since I wrote a prologue here that my fans like," Joshep smiled as he took the hint at that comment. "I decided not to break the magic."

"Have you been able to keep writing then?"

"I'm on chapter one. Do you want to read it?"

Joshep looked at the clock. "Give me half an hour and I'll get myself a coffee."

I'm not a gullible person, but I'm not going to deny that I like romance novels where the fascinating sinister guy, usually a vampire, fallen angel or demon who has escaped from hell, approaches the girl and ends up falling in love with her.

So, when I opened my eyes and found that pale, huge dark-eyed face staring at me from outside my window, my first thought was that I had become the hero of the next hit teen novel.

I blinked, maybe I was dreaming, maybe I wasn't there, maybe it was just my imagination. But no matter how much I opened and closed my eyes, there was still the vision of the perfect face; perfect eyes, the half-open mouth in which I almost imagined seeing two discreet fangs protruding and his neck line, also perfect.

Despite the darkness surrounding him, you could see his black, curly hair.

He was staring at me, he seemed not to have noticed I was awake or maybe he was waiting for me to go back to sleep to escape from there by taking a superhuman leap or even flying.

I looked at him a moment longer, smiled, was tempted to get up, go to the window and say something to him, but he was just standing there, still, like the most beautiful sculpture of antiquity, that I just lay there on the bed, afraid that maybe he could open the window with his powers or even go through it, although I had never seen a vampire going through glass... but who knows how vampires really act.

I took a deep breath and prepared to finally get up, but as if he had read my mind, the supernatural-looking stranger disappeared.

I jumped out of bed and ran to the window the few steps to the window, but when I got there I saw nothing but the empty, dark, silent street of my housing development.

I waited, though I wasn't sure what I really wanted to happen. Did I want a complete stranger who had been spying on me from my window for quite a while to show up again? Did I want to accept that I had been dreaming and had seen something that wasn't really there?

It mattered little anymore.

The beautiful ghost vampire had vanished.

Joshep handed the laptom back to him after reading the first chapter of the book. He stared at Santiago for a moment and then took a sharp breath.

"It's great. I assure you it makes me feel the same as "The Beat of a Rebel Heart". I want to know more about these characters. and I already imagine there's going to be a lot of drama, but I hope Sam finds love."

"Well, I'm still thinking about it, but the truth is that Sam is becoming a pretty special character to me and I've only met him recently."

"You'd want to say you've only recently created him, or are you the type to talk to your characters as if they were right next to you?"

"Yes of course, Sam is not real, of course not."

Santiago laughed nervously and just as he was about to say something, the cafeteria door opened again. Joshep squeezed his shoulder and jumped up. He said goodbye with a "talk to you later" and ran over to the newcomer, jumped on his neck, hugged him and kissed him on the lips.

"Hey baby." Joshep said to the newcomer. "I was afraid you couldn't get away from the office."

"Well actually I only have a quarter of an hour, but I wanted to see you, you sounded so excited on the message. What's up?"

Santiago noticed that the other man didn't really look happy as he hugged Joshep, he didn't have the same twinkle in his eye as the barista and wondered if Joshep noticed that.

"I've bought the place to set up our coffee shop."

Rick lost what smile he had. "You've done what?"

[fandom-scatteredthoughtsonpaper]

OBEY ME DARK AU

Act 1 Rough Outline

Summary (Event):

Trapped in a virtualistic world merged with the House of Lamentation, MC is left alone to figure out how to rescue the brothers from their twisted situations while trying to stay alive themselves long enough to help

Main Characters:

MC and the brothers

Secondary Characters:

Barbatos and Diavolo

Setting:

The Demon Lord's Castle (briefly)

The House of Lamentation

ACT 1

A.1 Forewarning - Forewording

- Barbatos invites MC over for lunch and tea before the main event kicks off, and he offers MC two Greek coins and an ominous smile

A.2 Introduction/Prologue

- Levi gets an experimental game that he won to test trial from a preliminary contest

- He invites Mammon and MC to play the horror-based VR game

- As Levi is setting stuff up, unbeknownst to the three, MC's powers lash out and merge with the elemental aspects of game

- The moment the three go into the simulated environment immediate reality and virtual reality merge and the real horror begins

A.3 Tutorial - Mammon

- MC is in the altered House of Lamentation

a. The HoL has a new atmosphere to it that is unsettling and chilling

- The front door is locked and the view outside the windows is blackened, their D.D.D. has no connection

a. The House is disconnected from the real world and placed in a stasis until the game is beaten

- They begin investigating around the foyer and downstairs before going upstairs, hearing muffled banging

- The noise gets louder when MC approaches Satan's room

- MC goes into Satan's room

- His room is messier with books than normal, with shelves missing tomes and books opened and abandoned or scattered haphazardly on the floor

- MC gets closer to Satan as he's fumbling and agonizing, clutching a hand to his head

- When MC finally gets his attention, Satan shoves a spell book into their hands and abruptly pushes them back out of the room, slamming the door hard behind them

- MC returns to their room to cast a protection spell (safe room)

- Taking a moment to collect themselves, MC freezes when they hear a voice behind them - it's Mammon

- Mammon is very different from the regular Mammon that MC has grown to know

a. He's in his demon form but it's not the regular form; it's more demonic and sharp

b His attitude is much more egotistical and a cruel vibe emanates from him; his smirk is foreign to his face; there's a selfish and uncaring glint in his glowing eyes

- Brief and skeletal interaction of what happens with Mammon

a. MC is frozen in place by uncertainty and fear; drops the book they were holding when they realize someone was in their room

b. Mammon talks and gets up from MC's bed and approaches MC, backing them up to the door and grabbing their face and squeezing their cheeks

c. Mammon monologues about his intent

d. MC struggles against the tight grip on their face and gets a long scratch on their right cheek that immediately starts bleeding

e. Mammon is furious about the lost blood and grabs MC before tossing them against the closest wall, knocking the air out of MC

f. Mammon puts a tight hold on MC's neck and they start to black out

g. MC struggles against his grip and pleads with him to stop

h. MC says a line or Mammon sees an item (matching ring?) ((something here makes Mammon snap out his mind-controlled state)) and he's momentarily stunned

i. MC notices something in Mammon's eyes that turns his hatefulness blank and Mammon gets a look of clarity and realization but not completely aware

j. Able to get a gasp of air, MC orders Mammon to stop choking them and a pained expression shows on Mammon's face and he passes out on top of them

k. MC recovers, coughing and gulping down air, while sitting up against the wall and situating the passed out Mammon on their lap

- A ping goes off from MC's phone, but they're not bothered with checking it as a noise from the bedroom door has their attention

- A voice seeps into the room and chills MC to their core, clutching Mammon harder to their chest out of sense of dread and protection

This is the first part of the AU. I'll be honest. I have this part pretty much down, but it's the other acts, the next few chapters, that have me stumped on how to progress.

I have scenarios for how the other brothers are interacted with and ideas for how the brothers can be handled when dealing with the manipulative hold on their minds from the game, and I have a muddy vision for an ending

My biggest issues are stringing events together and I've been trying to formulate this AU for a few months, but I'm just not getting much done because my initial thoughts on this AU was just the Mammon scene from a song.

Trying to write an outline for Act 2 and further chapters is really just me staring at a blank wall and getting a headache. I'm debating if I want to ask for help on this AU, because I have the basics and I know what I want to happen. It's just hard for me to progress in-between scenes and killing my drive to write, so I've been putting it on the back burner for other stuff to write, like a thing for Levi's birthday.

So, yeah, there's my blurb and hopefully it explains the slow progress if it means anything to anyone. It's just hard to do this alone when I do well with external feedback.

[storydays]

Chapter 1: The Adventure Begins p1

The elven king, Xaius stands on the parapet of a great citadel overlooking a massive, smoldering battlefield. "Archers! Fire on my signal! Catapults! Hold for the next wave!" He turned to give an order, when a hideous creature, a gargoyle made of twisting shadow, swoops in toward him.  Xaius reaches for his sword,as a blast of light catches the gargoyle in the side, blowing it into nothingness. The king turned to see his second-in-command, the battle mage Ellara, approaching with a gentle smile. "It looked like you needed a hand, my love" "I had it handled. What's your status?" Xaius asked. 

"The Shadow forces are many, but they're weak. Our front lines are driving them back. " The elvlen woman smiled wearily. "I-I can't believe it..but we might actually win this th--" She gasped hearing a thunderous roar in the distance. "Gods above...it's the DreadLord! Those madmen actually summoned the DreadLord." Xaius gasped, but looked down to see Ellara's gentle but firm grip. "My love, what do we do?" She whispered.  Xaius turned to her, eyes sparkling, his face hard and stoic. "We fight. We die.  And we pray that some day, a hero will rise to avenge us..someday." 

*Two thousand years later*

In a quaint little tavern in the town of Riverbend, a grinning pair of brothers downed their drinks, as the younger continued telling one of his favorite stories."So what happened next?" chuckled a 21 year old Ezra. His white hair had now grown down to his bottom but he kept it in a braid that hung around his shoulder, bangs brushed to the left side of his face, covering his birthmark, but allowed his gold eyes to peek out. He set down his mug of wine, and locked eyes with his brother across the table.

"The Dreadlord strode down the battlefield, boom,boom BOOM! And then--" His brother was cut off by the grumpy bartender. "We've been hearing this story for years, Kade. The Dreadlord attacked and destroyed the great elven empire." He stated, wiping down a nearby table. Kade scoffed. "Well, yeah, that's the short version....but you don't have the flair for storytelling that I do." Kade crossed his arms and pouted like a child, instead of the 16 year old he was. 

Ezra leaned back in his seat, and looked around. They were sitting at their favorite table in the Dancing Pig Tavern, listening to his brother tell another story. 'It's crazy to think that 10 years ago, we were watching over Kade through his sickness...now he's here telling tall tales like those books he likes to read.'  Kade and Ezra weren't only brothers, but they were also best friends. Kade was well known through Riverbend but not everyone was as easily amused as the elf was. Kade blended in well with the humans, with his short brown hair, bright green eyes, and freckles splashed across his face, while Ezra stuck out like a sore thumb. 

Ezra tuned back into the conversation to hear: "I don't care how well you spin your tales! You still need to pay for your drink." The bartender gruffed at the smaller human. "Barkeep, you wound me." Kade huffed, his mood darkening slightly. Chuckling, Ezra paid his half of the tab and gave the younger a look. "Pay up, Kade. Mother taught us better than that." He stated seriously. "You too, Ezra? I swear, no one in this town appreciates the value of a good tale! Fine, I'll pay. But we're not coming back here!" Kade cried dramatically. 

"Yes we are." Ezra and the bartender laughed louder when Kade added at the end, "Well, not tonight at least!" Ezra downed his wine and Kade finished his soda, before paying his side of the tab, and the two left the bar for the night. Ezra looked around their humble village before letting out a long sigh. "Another night in Riverbend. Same as any other." He mumbled gloomily. "That's not true. Some nights I manage to get us free drinks." Ezra barked a laugh before shoving his brother playfully, unable to stay gloomy around his brother. 

"You know what I'm--" Ezra's sentence was cut off when he bumped into a tall human heading towards the outskirts of the village. "Hey, watch it!" "Ugh, sorry 'bout that."  Ezra stepped back, eyeing the person in front of him. He was a rugged looking man with tanned skin,wavy shoulder length brown hair, glowering brown eyes, and he had a scar on his left eyebrow. He was wearing a cream long sleeved shirt, shoulder guards, wrist gauntlets, green cargo like pants, with a dagger on his left hip. 

"Who're you?"Ezra asked, while the man retorted, " None of your business, that's who." Two people that the elf did recognize followed the handsome man. Town Constable Angus and his tough as nails apprentice Grenn. "This here's Mal Volari, from Whitetower." The elder man  explained. "He's a world-famous adventurer!" Grenn grinned. "Wait, really?" Kade asked shocked. "Well..I wouldn't say world famous, more like continent-famous really." Mal snickered to himself. 

"Well, it's nice to meet you." Ezra said, minding his manners. His poor mother would be rolling in her grave if he didn't at least pretend to be nice. "Yeah, great, nice to meet you too. Now if you don't mind, we've got some important business to get to..." Mal was interrupted by Kade, "Adventurer business? Around here?" "Mal's got a lead on a powerful ancient artifact in the elven ruins to the south! If we can get it, it'll sell for a fortune!" Grenn said excitedly. "Damn the Gods, Grenn, keep it down!" Hissed Angus, "You want everyone in this town to hear about it?" "No need to be so nasty about it." Ezra mumbled, noticing Mal's raised eyebrow at him. 

"You mean...to the north, right? There's no ruins to the south." Kade corrected.  Mal shoots Angus a glare and the man shrugs. "Y-Yes! To the north! That's what she meant!" He fumbled over his words. "Hang on...there's a powerful ancient relic somewhere around here? And you're going to get it?" Ezra spoke up, excitement coloring his voice. "I got a tip, okay? A good one. From someone willing to pay a whole lot of gold. Angus and Grenn here, they're going to help me claim it. Now if you don't mind..." Mal made to leave again when Ezra gasped the man's arm, and stated, "We'd like to come along." "E-Ezra!" Kade gaped. 

"What? It's the chance of a lifetime." Gold eyes playfully sparkle at his brother's expression. Mal eyed the elf before letting out a weary sigh. "No can do. This is dangerous ancient crypt business. I can't have some rookie along bumbling things up." The human noted how the elf stiffened, and prepare himself for an argument.

"I'm not a rookie." glared Ezra. "Really? Ever pried a jewel from the hands of a cursed skeleton, knowing one wrong move would bring the whole room down on your head?" Mal challenged, making Ezra falter. "I mean, not technically.." He deflated. "Ever stabbed a snarling croctopus through the eye on the deck of a burning ship?" Mal continued. "I don't..know what that is." admitted Ezra. "How about this? You ever killed a man? You ever been in a real fight?" Ezra hesitated. ""Yes, I have to both of those." He said darkly, sending chills down everyone's back. "That's what I thought. I like your hustle, I really do. But I don't have time for some kit who's still wet behind the ears." " 'Kit?' " wondered the elf. 

"It's a term for new adventurers..you know, like an apprentice?" Kade whispered." "See? You don't even know the terms. Which means you've got a long way ahead of you. Get out there, have some adventures of your own, learn some skills. Then come find me, we'll talk." Mal walked off towards the village gate, Angus laughing as he followed, Grenn sending her old friend a sad look. "Sorry, Ezra." "Well, that was a thing that happened." Kade laughed nervously at Ezra's silent fuming.  "He's wrong. I could've done it. I'm the one who taught Grenn to be the adventurer she is today! Angus is an old drunk ass who can barely stay on his feet half the time! 'Learn some skills' I've got plenty of skills!"

The duo began walking again, when Kade asked aloud, "Like..what?" "Well Father taught us to fight bare hand, and I've learned some things about wielding a sword from my travels with Mother. I'm not useless." Ezra ran a finger over the silver ring on his left ring finger in habit. "That Mal guy really got under your skin, didn't he?" astonished the green eyed brother. "I don't know, I suppose I'm just jealous. I want to go on grand adventures and explore." He sighed dreamily. "And get fabulously rich." Kade grinned, Ezra matching him. "That too." 

"Aw, don't be hard on Riverbend. This town's been good to us! Not every human village would take such care of a couple of kids like us." 'Or would allow an elf to stay without being treated horribly.' went unsaid between the two. "I know, Kade! And it'll always be my home. I just...want to experience something more. It's not like a great adventure is just going to drop into my lap." Ezra huffed, brushing his bangs to the side again. Green eyes watch his older brother for a moment before clapping his shoulder. "Well, don't worry, brother. We'll experience it all together. " Ezra chuckled softly. "I can always count on you, Kade."

"But for now, all we've got is Riverbend. So, where do you want to start tonight?" Ezra grinned, "Let's head to the night market." "Uh, did you miss the part about having little coin?" Kade raised a eyebrow. "And you think I'm going to let that stop me? Come now, brother, you know me better than that." 

The brothers weaved their way through the  bustling night market, listening to vendors call out what was for sale: Fruits, meats, silks from the capital, and fish from the shore. An elderly food vendor turned and shook her head at the boys with a warm smile. "Well, well. If it isn't my two favorite customers. Two copper pieces will get you the finest pears we have." "Watch this." Ezra mumbled to Kade, before confidently walking towards the vendor, with a sly grin.

"My dear vendor, we don't have any coin..but is coin what really matters in this world?" "Excuse me?" The vendor chuckled, used to the young man's antics. "Love...passion...a moment of intimacy. Why, what is coin compared to that? Surely a beauty like you can understand." The white haired elf purred, his voice smooth like silk, eyes aglow. The woman barked a laugh at Ezra. "You are an absolute rascal, you know that? Now take these and get out of here boys." Laughing, she handed him two fresh pears, as he winked his thanks. 

Ezra bit into his as Kade stared at his back with wide eyes. "How? How did that possibly work?" He raced to catch up with Ezra. "What can I say? I'm the best flirt in Riverbend." His brother laughed before finally eating his pear, walking to the town square when he spoke up again. 

"You see? Riverbend isn't so bad. They've taken good care of us." "You're right. I just wish--" "HELP! Please HELP!" A shout echoed through the air. The duo turned to see a young woman in priestess's robes ran into the town square, before grabbing into Ezra, gripping his arms to keep herself from falling,Ezra eyes her. 

She had long red hair the fell down to her armpits in ringlets, some strands falling into her face, framing her light brown eyes. She was wearing light pink robes, with a silver and violet necklace on her neck. "You need to help me! Please!" She begged. "Whoa there, what's wrong?" Ezra asked. The woman straightened herself out, standing tall. But Ezra could see behind her disciplined posture, was a hint of fear. 

"I am Nia Ellarious, a priestess of the Light. My mentor and I are on a pilgrimage...but we were attacked by an owlbear on the road! I managed to escape while he distracted the beast. But he needs help! Now!" "Have no fear, young priestess..we are brave adventures." "Really?" Kade snorted at his brother's antics. "Shh! Don't mess this up!" hissed Ezra as Nia smiled in relief. "Thank you so much! Please, hurry now. He's just down the road." She began rushing off as Ezra and Kade shared a hesitant look before running after the ginger, but not before Ezra grabbed his sword on the way, strapping it to his left hip. 

"Let's go."

@imturaxamara @bladesappreciationweek #bladesAW

https://bladesappreciationweek.tumblr.com/

[i-run-with-a-wolfpack]

Twilight fanfiction/ Embry Call x OC/ mature rating/will be a short one but more than 1 part

Can't Help But Wait 1 - The Start of It All

"Hey."

Startled, I dropped the handful of books in my hand and gasped. "You scared me," I laughed as he walked around me, crouched down and began picking them up.

"Sorry."

I held my hand to my chest and watched as he stood slowly, giving me a small smile and handing me the dropped books. His fingers brushed mine and I felt it. There was an unmistakable attraction between me and him.

Embry Call.

I nervously smiled and returned to my task. He watched me for a moment before retreating to his favorite corner to read. My stomach was buzzing at the thought of him in such a close proximity. Until I remembered he wasn't available. Still I found my way to his corner, pretending to dust the shelves and hoping he'd talk to me again.

For the last several months, Embry had come to the bookstore everyday. He didn't say much, but the way he looked at me. Wow. No one had ever looked at me as intensely as he had that day. I felt so drawn to him. 

Embry was quiet and thoughtful, spending his lunch hour, sitting near a window and reading. He was like my dream man. If only he didn't have a girlfriend. I hadn't seen him in days. I was a little embarrassed to admit that I had missed his daily presence, especially since we had barely talked. 

I knew he was 20 and employed full time working with Paul and Jared doing construction. He usually came in dirty or shirtless or both. I often had to remind him to get his shirt back on since it violated the store policy of no shirt, no shoes, no service.

What a stupid rule.

Paul and Jared were a little older, both married to girls from the rez. I had a cousin who lived there and since it was such a small community, she knew all the gossip. That was also how I found out that Embry had a girlfriend. 

"Hungry?"

I stood near him, offering him half of my sandwich. I tried not to sigh when he smiled up at me. "You shouldn't have." Embry hesitated for a moment before reaching for the food, our fingers touching for the briefest of moments.

I was about to walk away when I heard his melodic voice utter, "Will you join me?"

Internally, I did a happy dance before I remembered the girlfriend. Damn. "I don't know…" I shrugged as I turned to face him.

He patted the arm chair across from his. "Please?"

How can I say no to that?

"You're really funny," Embry commented later after I had told him a story about one of our more eccentric customers. This was one of the longest conversations I had ever had with Embry and I was loving every second of it. 

As we sat and talked about everything from work to books to the weather, I couldn't help but think, this guy is so perfect for me. I loved the way his intense, dark eyes held my gaze. I noticed the way his attention would drift from my eyes to my mouth and back again. It almost seemed like he wanted to kiss me. Almost. 

I jumped when someone tapped on the window and my head jerked toward the sound of voices outside on the sidewalk. Embry groaned when Paul tapped his wrist and gave him a stern look. The other guys with Paul were eyeing me up and down. One of them was even making kissy faces, obviously trying to embarrass poor Embry.

I burst out laughing when one of them, Jared, I think, was pressing his back against the glass with his hands around his neck, making it look like he was being kissed by someone. "Your friends are really mature," I scoffed.

Embry stood and sighed. "I use the term 'friends' loosely."

I laughed in response, but my smile faded when he held his hand out to me. I locked eyes with him as my hand slid into his. He pulled gently, but I still ended up in his arms. "I'm so sorry," I sputtered nervously. 

Embry laughed as he put a little distance between us. "Sometimes I forget how strong I am." 

I blinked quickly up at him, suddenly aware of his sinewy arms and how they expertly held me. His touch was feather light as his arms encircled my waist. He smelled amazing. It was a combination of the outdoors, fresh cut pine, and a manly cologne smell. It wasn't overpowering, just enough to catch my attention and make me wish I could sniff his skin.

Oh wow. I really have a problem.

I stepped out of his hold, shrinking away from him as I suddenly felt very guilty.  "You have a girlfriend, don't you?" I blurted suddenly. 

Embry looked at me as though I had slapped him. He shook his head and made his way to the cash register. When he plopped down the book he always read, I glanced up in confusion. "You want to buy this?"

"It's a bookstore, isn't it?" he snipped at me.

I sighed and nodded, angry with myself for whatever I did to upset him. I rang up the book and watched as he threw down a twenty. I handed Embry his change, cupping his hand with both of mine. "I didn't mean to make you mad. Someone told me you were involved so…"

"You think I'm a cheater, Nicolle? That's the type of guy I seem like to you?" he huffed impatiently as the front door was yanked open by his friends.

I opened my mouth to retort, but he was gone before I could speak. I looked down at the book in my hands and immediately darted to the front door to catch him. "You forgot your book!" I called down the street.

He hopped into the bed of Paul's work truck and as it sped by, he yelled, "It's for you!"

I looked down at the book and then back at him as the truck careened around the corner and out of sight. I slunk back into the store, just staring at the book I had seen Embry reading on his lunch hour for months now. 

Waiting - A Book of Romantic Poetry

I never realized this was what he had been reading. And why did he buy it for me?

As the rest of my shift passed slowly by, I opened my precious gift to read the first page. Instead I found that someone had written a note inside.

N -

I know you can't understand what you feel for me. I barely understand it myself. For months, I've sat in this store just to be near you. I can't explain to you why. I know you would never understand. But I need to be near you.

Please know that I can't help but wait until the day I can share my secrets with you and we can finally be together. It's all I dream about.

Love, E

I swallowed thickly as I reread the note a few more times. Why? What is he waiting for? Why couldn't he just ask me out? And why did he get so upset when I mentioned his girlfriend? I was so confused.

With my mind on Embry and his cryptic note, I finished my closing procedures and was beginning to lose hope that I would ever see him again. He was so angry when he stormed out that I just prayed I'd get the chance to straighten things out with him. His note had me more intrigued than ever.

With my back to the front door, I heard it open and cringed, knowing I should have locked it first thing. "I'm sorry, we're closed!" I called out as I swung around to see who had entered the store after closing.

My breath caught in my throat when I found a pair of bloodshot eyes staring back at me. "We're closed," I repeated, silently hoping this boy was just here by accident. 

He glanced around quickly, his movements jerky and nervous. "You alone?" he croaked.

I swallowed thickly and shook my head. "My boss," I lied, "is in the back room."

He glanced in that direction and I noticed his disheveled appearance, dirty hair, and the unmistakable sign of needle marks on his arm. A junkie. He could barely focus on one thing before his head and gaze would bounce around. "You're lying," he spat. "You've been the only one here all day."

"You've been watching me?" I squeaked.

He smiled with his yellow crooked teeth and I shuddered because he didn't look scared anymore. He wanted something. I just prayed it wasn't me. Before I could ask, he produced a long hunting knife from his back pocket and pointed it at me. "I need money," he demanded. 

I swallowed thickly and nodded. I knew I was in danger. Forks didn't have a huge problem with drug use but having worked downtown, I'd seen enough panhandlers to know it was an issue. He was obviously desperate for his next fix. He scratched at his skin with one hand and waved the knife around with the other. "Did you fucking hear me?" he spat. "The money! I know you have it!"

I began to move around the counter to retrieve the bank bag from under the counter when the boy advanced on me. "Where are you going?" 

"It's behind the counter," I replied shakily. "Just let me go get it."

When I moved again, he reached for my arm and squeezed hard. "Don't try anything. You hear me?"

I nodded again, my eyes never leaving the enormous, jagged edge being brandished my way. He let go but followed me as I rounded the corner and dug the bag out of the drawer we kept it in. "Here," I choked out as I shoved it in his direction. I prayed he would just take it and leave me alone.

He smiled devilishly as he unzipped the bag and sifted through it. When he returned his gaze to me, I froze. I took a careful step back when he moved toward me. Now my back was pressed to the side counter and I had nowhere else to go.  When he raised that sharp knife and pressed it to the center of my chest, I resisted the urge to scream. 

"You're really pretty," he sneered. 

I could feel the nausea beginning to take over. I just wanted him to leave. "You got your money...can't you just go?" I argued in a voice that betrayed how scared I really was.

He leaned forward, his face only inches from mine. "I'll go when I'm ready," he challenged me angrily.

When he lowered his gaze to the front of my shirt and began dragging the knife up to tear my clothing, I squeezed my eyes shut. "Look at me," he urged in a growly voice that made my skin crawl.

I couldn't stand to see that look in his eye.  I didn't want that to be the last thing I ever laid eyes on. "Please don't," I begged when I felt the pull of the knife against my shirt, occasionally hitting my skin.

I could feel my shirt falling open and the unmistakable feeling of blood dripping from the cuts. "Look at me!" he demanded again.

I whimpered in response to his harsh tone. When I leaned away from him he grabbed the back of my head and hissed in my ear, "We're gonna have some fun now."

"Hey."

My eyes snapped open to find we weren't alone. I stared back at the beautiful eyes I had seen in my dreams the past few months. My stomach clenched in fear when I realized he could be in danger too. Before I could tell Embry to go, my captor swung around and swiped at Embry, causing me to shriek out in fear.

Embry jumped back quickly but not before the tip of the knife cut across his stomach and tore his t-shirt open. The Iittle bastard chuckled at the sight of Embry's spilt blood. Consumed with anger, I shoved the boy from behind, gasping when he turned the knife back to me. 

Embry seized the opportunity to put him in a headlock and grab the wrist that held the knife. "Look out!" I cautioned as they struggled and the knife swiped the air. Embry tightened his hold and I watched as the intruder gasped for air until his eyes went dark. 

When he landed in a heap on the floor, my hero rushed forward and gathered me up in his arms. His eyes quickly scanned me, zeroing in on the cut on my chest. He scooped me into his arms and climbed over the trash on the floor. "It's gonna be okay," he murmured into my hair over and over.

I threw my arms around his neck and sucked in a deep breath. He tightened his hold on me and when I opened my eyes, I found the robber was coming back for more. The door swung open and I heard a voice call out, "Embry! What's the hold up?"

Embry fell to his knees with me in his arms and that's when I saw the jagged blade had sunk deep between his shoulder blades. The junkie pulled it right back out and chuckled maniacally. "Now what, hero?" he taunted.

I cupped Embry's face in my hand and felt the tears welling up in my eyes. I looked up to see Paul kneeling in front of us. "Take her," Embry growled. "Get her outta here."

I whined in protest when Paul pulled me from Embry's grasp and swiftly carried me to the front door. I turned my head to see Embry lunge at the monster, tackling him to the ground. Paul yanked his truck door open and carefully set me on the passenger seat. His eyes widened when he saw the cut on my chest. He pulled a rag from his back pocket and held it to the wound as I watched him.

"Please go help him," I begged. "Embry needs your help."

Paul glanced back through the front window and chuckled. "He's fine. Embry doesn't look like it, but he's quite the scrapper," Paul joked. 

I furrowed my brow and gathered the front of Paul's t-shirt in my fist. "This isn't the time for jokes! What if he kills Embry?" I cried.

Paul looked hard at me and scoffed. He gestured to the cut on my chest and shook his head. When he leaned in close to me, I locked eyes on him and listened to his words. "That guy hurt you, Nicolle. He'll be lucky if he walks out of that store alive."

I shifted my gaze to the store to find Embry straddling the junkie and pounding his face over and over. "You're right. Please stop him," I gasped. "I don't want Embry to go to jail over this!"

Paul glanced between me and Embry, finally sprinting back into the store and yanking his friend off the drug addict currently looking unconscious on the floor.

The next few minutes went by in a haze. I heard the sirens from an ambulance and police car. Officers dashed past me and stormed into the store as Paul pulled Embry away. A gurney was dragged through the doorway and I watched the beaten boy on the floor begin to receive medical treatment. 

He wasn't dead and I was relieved. He had scared me and hurt me but I couldn't bear the thought of Embry going to jail for it.

I could see the gurney being pushed out and his battered body strapped down. His eyes were fluttering open so I assumed he was still conscious. He even gave me a sickly smile and I turned my nose up in disgust.

The next thing I noticed was Paul's voice as the officers led him out of the store and straight up to me. He was arguing with the police and suddenly I realized why. He was in handcuffs, just like Embry. "Stop!" I shouted. "You arrested the wrong guys!"

I explained to the officers that if it weren't for Embry, I didn't know what could have happened. But all they wanted to focus on was the fact that Embry had beaten the young junkie to a pulp. "He stole the deposit!" I declared. "He put the bag in the back of his pants."

An officer jogged over to the ambulance and checked the 'victim' to find I was right. He produced the bag and checked the contents. "Please let these guys go. I swear they saved me from him. He could've killed me with that knife he had."

After they saw my knife wound and Embry's cut open shirt, as well as discovering the large weapon behind the counter, they seemed to finally come to the conclusion that these Quileute boys were my heroes and agreed to let them go. The officers insisted on driving us to the hospital to be checked out since we obviously weren't riding with the criminal. I was happy to see that they had at least handcuffed the junkie to the gurney before speeding off.

Embry and I settled into the backseat together and after a few moments, he scooted close to me and pulled me to his chest. I tried not to cry as he crushed me in his arms and kissed the top of my head. "I'm so sorry, Nicolle. I should've been there sooner. I'm sorry you got hurt," he whispered into my hair.

"I'm fine," I sniffled. "It's just a scratch, I swear."

Embry cupped my chin and tilted my head up. "He didn't...you know...touch you, did he?"

I blinked back my unshed tears and forced a smile up to his weary face. "He didn't get the chance. You got there just in time and...you...saved me."

He squeezed his eyes shut and nodded, pulling me back to his chest and cradling me in his arms. "I almost lost you," he breathed.

I slid my hands around his waist, smoothing my fingers under his shirt when I realized I couldn't feel the gash on his stomach. I peeled back his shirt, that was torn and bloody, only to find no cut, no mark, no stab wound. 

"Embry?" I gazed up at him with questions in my eyes. "I don't understand." I felt around on his back where I knew for certain that the knife had been plunged in and there was nothing. 

"I saw you get stabbed," I gasped.

Embry's jaw tensed and he shook his head. "I'm fine," he insisted. When I furrowed my brow in confusion, he scoffed. "Just drop it, Nicolle."

His anger was back. Just like earlier in the store when I mentioned his girlfriend, it flipped a switch in him and he shut down. 

He had secrets, that much was obvious. As the scenery whizzed by and we finally pulled up to the hospital, I felt Embry's hand slip into mine. He leaned in close and pressed his mouth to my ear. "I'll tell you everything, I promise. Just trust me, honey."

I turned my head slightly and gazed up into his dark, mysterious eyes. I wanted to know everything. I needed answers to all my questions. But most of all I needed to know why my whole body lit up when he touched me. Or why I hadn't been able to stop thinking about him since the day he first set foot in the bookstore. 

I didn't believe in love at first sight, but there was always something pulling us together like magnets and I needed to know more.

....

[brooke-the-poet]

The Fantasy Adventure Trope and Autistics.

Currently I am fascinated with narrative framing. The structure of a story and how that gives us the meanings that we draw from it.  

What I have noticed is that neurodivergent consciousness isn't taken into consideration very often. In fact many narratives, especially in children's literature and films have a gaslighting affect when it comes to the experiences of neurodivergent children.

Children who are different are portrayed as having an overactive imagination, big emotions or too reserved, shy, afraid, a little adult, low impulse control, not very social, bullied at school and are ignored by adults.

This jumble of traits pretty much fits most neurodivergents. But just enough so that they are endearing and don't seem "too weird".

Unfortunately many children are thought of in the same vein as the biblical prodigal son. Disabilities and difficulties are seen as trials to be fixed, or to fix "us" as if we need some form of chastising.

That our ways are wrong and we choose to bring difficulty on ourselves by not ignoring the things everyone else ignores and doing what everyone else does.

 People expect neurodivergent children to be doormats and when they are shoved into that role they naturally become distressed and hide or rebel.

Such children then go on a magic adventure, where they learn about who they are as a person and then return home better off than when they left, able to cope and function better in their world.

That's a very general idea of the plots of most magic adventures. And there's nothing wrong with that, if indeed that is what is occurring.

But too often it is not.  Most of these narratives portray the child as in need of a rude awakening, again with the prodigal image, spoiled, lack of discipline, bad attitude, needing to burn off energy, needing confidence, needing change over all.

And how this occurs is through what is known as exposure therapy.  A theorized technique where non-biological anxiety is reduced through exposure to the source of the anxiety.

This does not work on neurodivergents nor many with trauma related conditions. It only serves to burn out energy and destroy our nervous systems and peace of mind if we had any to begin with.

The adventure supposedly  leads the child to become used to physical stress, work and decision making. It assumes that the child has had no trauma or stress before this. That their difficulties came from being uncooperative with adults.  What it comes down to is that it is the child that needs to change, not their world.

And what that means for the neurodivergent child whose experience of the world can not change through a change in attitude, is that they are made to feel flawed, that unlike the "good" children in those stories, they are bad.

Which leads them to hiding their difficulties and masking. And if they are autistic, the feeling of being nonhuman increases significantly.  

*On a side note: Fantasy gives neurodivergent traits to majority non-human characters. I really do enjoy fantasy but the characters I related to most were the non-humans or the villain, and both.

There are a lot of non-human characters that should just have been human. When only "make believe" species have your sensitivity and traits, it makes it very hard for people to take you seriously. That's a whole other article though.*

Back to narrative:

Two examples come to mind. The German novel "The Neverending Story"  by Michael Ende and and the Japanese film "Spirited Away" by Hayao Miyazaki.

These were big impact stories, I'm only going to cover 3 items from each.

Someone with more energy can dig in deeper.  Also if the plots sound really similar to you, children going off into fantasy worlds and receiving help from dragons, it is because Michael Ende loved Japan and was inspired by Japanese folklore.

His second wife is Japanese and his stories became huge in Japan where he toured and gave lectures and was honoured with his own museum shortly before he passed away.

First, The Never Ending Story.

Yes, the story with Bastian, Atreyu, the child-like empress and my personal favourite, Falcor the luck dragon. Who doesn't love the ending of the film version where he scares the shit out of those bullies as he chases them  into the dumpster?

There are a lot of very good things in this story,  Bastian fits completely the profile of the neurodivergent child,but for those who have read the book there are some glaring details, and Yes, I know all the other interpretations and cultural symbolism going on.

But I'm looking at these from an autistic perspective, being as personal and  literal as possible. Because that is how I viewed them and many others will, as a kid and teenager.

1. Despite Bastian's trauma from school and his mom's death it is up to him to fix his emotionally shut down father.

There's a new term for this, emotional incest. Google that.  Emotionally Bastian has a lot going on,he and his father should really be seeing a therapist.

This topic can be controversial as it crosses into many cultural expectations of what a family is and the required roles within a family.  There are various levels of toxicity that can occur in parent child relationships that result in anger later on in the child. But a parent relying on a child for emotional support is seen as the most benign.

One could say that is traditionally what children are for.  From the outside pushing back at this role looks like "modern selfishness" but the inside reality is that the stress placed on a child who needs support and understanding themselves is damaging. When suppressing growth for a parent, the child does not learn to become an emotionally healthy adult.

For many neurodivergents this can look like carer abuse, infantalisation, a parent guilt tripping for all the work they do for the child. Expecting full loyalty to a parent with punishments imposed for perceived infractions.

Demanding all of a child's time. Not allowing friends, becoming jealous of online friends, hobbies, and anything that takes their attention away from the parent.

Given that as adults many disabled neurodivergents rely on their parents for support, these relationships remain complex and complicated.

2. Spending too much time in your inner world makes you less human.

For those not familiar with the second half of this book, for every wish and fantasy  Bastian lives out he loses his memory and humanity. WTH?

As someone who has memory and dissociation issues this really freaked me out and made me question whether or not my dissociation, frequent need to retreat and loss of self at times was due to me being a bad, selfish person like the townspeople in the book.

Autistics and other neurodivergents have rich inner worlds that are just as real as what is going on outside them.

They are a part of this world as nature, and it is there that we often find and preserve our sense of self instead of getting lost in a sea of others.

Without them we would lose ourselves. Our humanity should never be equated with how much we outwardly participate.

3.  Bastian wasn't capable of being loved before his journey.

When Bastian loses his humanity he nearly kills Atreyu but is stopped. He repents by working hard in a mountain, as a miner where he loses the last of himself, including his name in order to learn selfless love.

Hard stare. Really? Neurodivergents tend to be born selfless it seems, and we have really hard times creating boundaries for ourselves in how much we will give others and are much too open to manipulation because of it.

In my mind Bastian is already doing far too much emotional labour for a child to sustain and shouldn't be required to have to work on top of that  for love to be given him.

More messages towards us about being selfless only harms us and makes us feel guilty for not draining ourselves dry for others.

Reiterating again, that Esoterica and symbolism, metaphors etc...are my special interest, I know what the esoteric symbolism of all this is but most children will not and Will take this aspect literally.

Overall none of his physical issues such as Body positivity, the school and bully situation nor any other issues were addressed. His real fear was part of his "overactive imagination" that he had to overcome.

This gaslights many neurological disabilities and experiences with the world, where synesthesia, sensory processing differences and executive Dysfunction are labelled imaginary and trauma around them is exasperated.

Spirited Away

This is the film that inspired this. Because I loved this. Miyazaki truly knows how to capture the soul of nature.

Some back story about anime you truly need to know before we move on.

If you're autistic, and fan of Anno Hideki creator of Evangelion, also a fellow autistic, who also worked with studio Ghibli, then you probably know what he means when he stated that anime and manga are an inherently autistic medium.  

Paraphrasing Anno: 

Your goal is to reach out and connect with others deeply and emotionally.  

The main way this is achieved is having the emotional interior of people reversed, showing every emotion externally.

In anime all the huge feelings, trauma and anxiety that usually go on inside someone are shown on the outside. This makes it really relatable and easy to connect emotionally to the characters.

Big secret though, non-neurodivergents assume a lot of the emotions are exaggerated and the trials and stages the characters go through are metaphors.

If you are neurodivergent, you know they are not. Many things are literally what is happening to us on the inside, how certain things feel.

I'll give examples when I talk about Spirited Away, but if you are further curious, Google Newtypes from the Mobile Suit Gundam saga and Evangelion.

This unique feature and style, of emotions began in the Tokugawa Era as a form of non-violent rebellion against the imposed socially rigid caste system and militarism of the era that saw creativity as superfluous.

Anything different, mysterious, unknown, imaginative and emotional did not meet the new "social norms" of the shogunate era and were rejected.  

Artists and writers, the creative castes, started making woodblock prints of fantasy scenes and stories in a style now known as manga.

They kept Non-linear, neurodivergent thought and ways of being alive during that violent time period when many creators were imprisoned.  

     Ok, with that on to Spirited Away.  I'm going to focus on Autistic masking. Masking plays a huge role in this story.

Briefly, the plot is: 10 year old Chihiro, on the way to her new home is spirited away with her parents. Going against her instincts she follows them into what turns out to be the holiday and pleasure district of the gods.

Her parents eat the god's food, turn into pigs and Chihiro must then sell herself to the onsen ( bath house) in order to work off the debts of her parents and save them.  

The main characters that I personally relate with in this piece are Haku, the dragon boy/river god,  the Faceless Spirit/Noh Face and the witch Zeneba.

So again, 3 things.

1. Masking, Chihiro is The Mask.

Chihiro, the cool, collected,lovely mixture of innocence and maturity is the mask that many autistic women grew up wearing in order to handle trauma. Be strong, brave and stoic for the sake of others. This is one set of strong messages that the film puts out.     

In the bridge scene where Haku and Chihiro, under an invisibility spell, cross the bridge to the bathhouse; in order to cross without being seen Chihiro must hold her breath.

That is what Autistic masking literally feels like, the fear of being seen, caught and punished for who we are and the sharp pain of inhaled breath held, for too long, and slow suffocation.

             Chihiro's journey  will feel familiar to many young autistics who are learning about themselves and the people around them and how they fit into the social structures here. Chihiro is a foreigner and awkwardly trying to stay out of trouble.

There isn't a structure that fits her.  She's scolded and hindered for simply existing in that space not meant for her. But she has a task to complete, so she has to figure out a way to make things work.

Being survival, task and mission oriented is a strong point of being Autistic. It's part of our ability to be perseverant.

It can be so strong that your mind creates different ways of being to hide and protect the most sensitive parts of itself, to protect the parts that are different.

Chihiro's final line in the film is:

"Don't worry, I think I can handle it."

She's resolute in her maintaining a stoic mask, which is implied as part of growing up.  This message is toxic to Autistics

For a lot of us Autistics this line recalls childhood trauma and masking. The exact phrase we would say to "make things work" for ourselves. Suppressing our needs in order to appear mature and keep our parents and those around us comfortable.

If the bathhouse is supposed to represent life and the social- economic reality, then it's the same reality so many face, forced to change and pretend they fit into society.  This message about masking feels at odds with the "re-discovering your true self" message that we get with Haku.

   The river dragon spirit, Haku literally represents what masking your true self can look like. Under Yubaba he loses sense of his true nature, physically grows pale and steely eyed. He isn't conscious of the spell Yubaba has placed in him. Masking isn't conscious to a lot of Autistics either.

     As an apprentice Haku carries out orders no matter what the danger is to himself. Putting ourselves in harm's way and being abused without us knowing is an outcome of masking. When masking we are in the position of copying others feeling very much like "apprentice non-autistics".

We want to please in order to survive and feel adequate with others. In the scene when Haku is bleeding to death and Yubaba kicks him into the incinerator to be disposed of, that unfortunately is a real emotional outcome to many abusive relationships built through masking. Relationships fail once we burn out.

In order to show his true nature, Haku actively fights inside himself when helping Chihiro. He plays double agent throughout the film. And then has to be saved from himself by Chihiro.

Do I need to be saved from myself?

Do I seem as cold and distant as Haku?

Am I and my masking setting a bad example, a burden to seemingly purer people like Chihiro who haven't quite learned to mask yet?

These questions flitter and linger for a long time. There's a pang of sadness in them.

    It's an extremely complicated issue which is further complicated when navigating personal  boundaries and what is felt to be personally owed to others, it changes with each situation.  

During the train scene when Chihiro is given time to process her predicament you can literally see her mentally forming her mask, the mask that's prepared to take responsibility for others mistakes.

It's the same mask we create to carry the burden of being social and appropriate when no one else is, the mask that self blames and takes up energy.  Chihiro takes responsibility for everything.

There is again that message of sacrificing your well being for others that is pushed. She is the only one actively trying to save both her parents and Haku.

    Being a heroine doesn't have to be about saving others, or being responsible for them, especially when they are capable of finding their own solutions. There are so many different ways to show love and support.  

It isn't about being selfish and just taking care of yourself, for many Autistics and those with multiple disabilities, caring for others in this manner isn't an option but feeling guilty for not doing this is a constant to many.    

   Who this message is being directed to, needs to change. It should not be directed at vulnerable girls or any children who will worry and have anxiety about themselves.

The reality of many situations where change is needed from someone in authority, parent or any other institution is that it fails to occur. Children or other exploited parties are made responsible for that failure.  

If an Autistic fails to fit in, it's never societies fault, the burden of change and guilt is always put on the autistic. And in order to shoulder it, masking occurs.  How long is she going to be able to keep up that tough girl facade?

      2. Home   

     In the opening of the film Chihiro is  upset at what would honestly be devastating for someone who relies on "their world" to make sense of who they are.  Moving, no home to return to. This concept literally is played out with Haku and Noh Face.

Haku's river is destroyed, because of this he loses his identity and falls prey to those who would enslave him.  An identity that changes with physical environment is common. Some autistics, like myself, unconsciously build an identity or mask that fits specifically to our environment.

     Environment becomes routine along with all of the sensory stimulus and sensitivity, our bodies physically bond to what is comfortable to us.  And when that changes, so does a whole persona or personality mask.

When it is an unexpected and forced change, it is traumatizing. In my own experience, I've moved 10 times in a single year at the age of 14. Only 4 years older than Chihiro.

That caused a shutdown that I'm still experiencing the effects of 20 years later. Losing those connections is never a matter of letting go and moving on. They are grieved and must be processed at length.  

    On the way out of the forest Chihiro's father notices how quiet she is, both parents finally are paying attention to the emotional reality of their child. If they had listened and paid attention to her intuition, warnings and signs of trauma, in the beginning, their predicament would not have occurred. They might not have even moved in the first place.

"A new home and school, it is a bit scary," her father says. To which Chihiro replies that she can now handle it.

Chihiro, suppressing her original concern and the trauma of her experience, now gaslights herself, after she's gone through the process of learning how to perform emotional and mental labour for others through masking as an act of love.

An act of love, that's how mainstream society positions suppressing the needs of the disabled. You're told if you love your parents, your family, don't cause problems, don't cause trouble.

Oh, your having trouble at school, at work, at home? Disabilities are framed as trouble in this manner, the same way one speaks of a misdemeanor or crime. It subtlety shifts feelings of fault and blame onto the disabled.  When it comes to Autistics the way we understand our self and our experience of the environment is often blamed as the cause of troubles.

For us the Non-autistic world is assaulting both physically and emotionally. It's a mess of social and psychological mind games and head traps that make us chronically ill.  We have to create our own environments to dwell and recover in each night.

For a large proportion of us, we experience time and space Non-linearly. Which means events are not chronological, they don't neatly line up in our minds.

Our experience of the world is like the concepts of Ukiyo and Yugen. Transience, ethereal and profound depth of feeling. Events, people, places float in and out with moments of deep joy and sadness to help us make sense of time.

Miyazaki makes full use of this narrative tradition in his storytelling with vast spaces and characters who on the surface are only loosely associated with each other yet deeply connected.

In our world connection is not linear, nor emotions. Associative thinking leads us to make broad connections in ways that branch out and lead us to discoveries that seem impossible or were unknown to many because the right associations couldn't be made in their linear minds.

Non-linear emotions mean that we don't process events as they happen. It's too much to take in, emotions float in us, incubating until they are ready to be understood. The moment this happens is usually triggered by seemingly unconnected events but to which our minds have made connections to, enough to bring us to full circle. Different mental processing times mean reactions and effects come later, long after expected.

3. Noh face.  Portraying other as grotesque.

The best for last.

Noh face as in the Noh theatre, because the mask they wear, delights and troubles in it's accurate yet disturbing qualities. The spirit does not speak except to make pleading utterances. The faceless spirit  is sad, mysterious, interesting,terrifying and revolting all at once.

When it is invited into the bathhouse it begins to eat several of the workers and gains the ability to speak and their personality traits.

It is one of the most grotesque and extreme moments in the film. It can make you squirm. But it's also the most literal example of what it can be like to mask.

There is a certain type of masking that occurs for autistics who also experience dissociation, derealisation and depersonalisation.

It's the least understood and most vital to  understand; this is how the brain involuntarily forces command or auto-pilot, for survival in situations it deems life threatening.

 When around other people these autistics physically feel themselves absorb the energy, the personalities, emotions and desires of other people, so much so that it overwhelms their mind/ soul, their identity and sense of who they are.

They can lose track of where they are and what they say and do ; literally becoming "drunk" on other people, acting erratically or hyper with a loss of inhibition.  

They may do and say things they wouldn't have before and never would alone, when caught in the energy of the crowd or moment. And often they can't quite remember what occurred until afterwards. It's an uncomfortable and frightening experience to not be in control, to feel like a slave to others wills .

 With this type of masking the autistic may be aware of it or might not be, but they are not in control of when it happens or with who. It occurs on a daily basis this absorption of personas and others traits. It's chaotic inside, an ever changing kaleidoscope of thoughts and feelings that are almost never your own.

Physically, after socialising, especially if it's from a party, when this type of  autistic is alone, people hangover sets in.

People hangovers, even though I don't drink that's the best definition I have of it, you feel ill enough that you vomit; as you would expect with all of this swirling chaos.

The only way to end it is to sleep it off as you psychologically purge all the fragments of others out. This is another  physical sensation as you feel yourself emptying and regaining control. This process can feel like being scrubbed raw, internally.

This masking isn't done out of "loneliness" as is the reason given by the Noh Face. But having no one to understand and going through this alone, does build up and can increase the feelings of desperation to have a stable self.

In the scene when Chihiro gives the Noh face the expectorant, and they vomit just as Haku did, as all the people they consumed left, they returned to their original small form, no longer able to speak.

Chihiro, in that scene is the only one with boundaries, she masks her fear and listens, using her knowledge to give the Noh Face what they really need. She presents a kind, calm and stable force that counters chaos.

It's no wonder the Noh Face wants to absorb her. She's the ultimate mask that it can then have to feel whole and interact with others finally.

But it still would not be their own.

On a side note, it is for this very reason that Noh Face is finally paired with the witch Zaneba, whose line "hmmm, what else can we mess with?" is my favourite. Zaneba sees the structure of the bathhouse and wants to disrupt it.

Due to the chaos occurring inside these type of autistics, instead of trying to order life in a structured or "tidy" way, they impose chaos externally. As long as it is their chaos, this ordered chaos approach is effective in coping with life.

Roles, duties and tasks bring about more structure than superficial order as in the bathhouse. If there's a specific function and purpose that is clear, it makes it easier to not mask, which is why the noh face is able to remain calm.

At the end of the day Zaneba and Noh Face retreat to their quiet home, where function and roles are simple. Personally that's where I'd like to stay, if I were Chihiro I wouldn't have returned.

That's a final point, the "fantasy" world is always made out to be lesser than our shared reality. But is it really? Our inner worlds are what make it possible to survive in the outer world. It's where we process and draw strength to combat the hostility we encounter daily.

They aren't something you abandon in childhood, but a necessary life skill that develops further with age. The fantasy retreat is vital for rest and reclamation of self from society. Not something to be left behind.

So there you have it. My rough autistic sense on what messages an autistic/neurodivergent might take away from popular story narratives and elements in children's fiction and film.  

[lareinenoir]

Ocean Eyes Loki × Black! Reader Pt 1/4

Inspiration: Ocean Eyes by Billie Elish

Renamed 'My Heaven' to Ocean Eyes

Summary: Your name is Hedda the sister of Heimdal. You trained on Alfheim with the elves leaving your best friend, Loki alone. Then you came back and figured out he was disguised as Odin. You both loved each other, when you were kids. Loki more than you because you had your eyes on Thor. But growing up means leaving childish things behind. Does that include your love for one another?

"It hurts to be in love!" You shout angrily. "It hurts to be in love,Loki Especially with you."

"And you think it's easy for me? I've been in love with you since day one, Hedda! And all you could see was Thor."

Warning: angst, swearing

Word count: 3k

Taglist: @thatweirdwalangpake @schizonephilim

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You had been getting annoyed lately with all of Loki's crap. He had the people build a statue of him after he delivered some speech about how Loki (himself) saved Asgard and how "We should commemorate him."

"Something is missing." Says Odin (Loki) as he stands before the statue with his arms crossed. "Its missing something wouldn't you say so Hedda?" He asks turning to you

Loki had made you his advisor. At first, you didn't want it but it slowly consumed you because you had seen how happy you were becoming.

"Is this really necessary?" You ask with your axe over your shoulder. "The statue is a bit much-"

"Nonsense." He cut you off. "I think it's perfect. A statue for my favorite son." He sighs dramatically putting his hand on your shoulder.

"Whatever." You mumble rolling your eyes, shrugging off his hand. "And you can quit acting like Odin." You say to him "No one is around."

"Gee." He huffed straightening his posture. "You take the gun out of being king of Asgard. Is it because you are jealous, Hedda?" Loki teases

"Jealous?" You question slamming your axe down "What could I possibly be jealous of?"

"Well..." He pretends to think with his signature smirk playing on his pale face. "The fact that I'm king and you aren't."

"I'd be careful what comes out of your mouth next." You say now nose to nose with him. "Becuase I could expose you just like that." You snap your fingers and see his face get hard.

Backing away you straighten your uniform and lick your dry lips as Loki shakes his head. A little chuckle left his throat as he gave you a grin."I forgot how intense you get. All that training on Alfheim and you still are the same old Hedda. They couldn't teach you to smile and laugh on purpose?" He asks as you both stand in the court yard. "To tough for her own good."

"They did teach me something. They taught me how to grow some balls and man up." You spat picking up your axe. "And if you don't like it then-"

"I didn't say I didn't like it." He hushed you making your cheeks hear up because Odin's eyes were now his eyes. Loki's eyes giving you a lavish look.

"I'll be expecting you tonight." You shrug it off and take in a breath. "Under our tree and I'll bring the ale. Don't be late." You scold then walk off.

Loki watched you and you knew it. His eyes burning a hole in the back of your head. He was enjoying what was left of your smell that still lingered in the air.

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The tree was yours and Loki's favorite spot. As children you'd climb it and whenever you and Loki had a fight you'd sit under it and wait for him to apologize.

Some of the time he had no reason to but he always ended up going to the tree with a smile and a flower in his hand. He didn't even have to say the words but the gift of your favorite flower, a daisy, was quite enough.

Nightfall arrived and you ended up being late. You decided to shower and get out of the uniform you wore constantly and put on a dress you wore in Alfheim.

"I thought you were dead." He joked with his head against the tree, reading still in his Odin form.

Rolling your eyes you shrug and sit next to him. "Do you want to burn my eyes? I want to see the real Loki, please and thank you."

You heard him sigh and his outward appearance melted away. Loki turns his head towards you and you see his signature smirk. "Better?" He asks as you pull the cork off the ale.

"Still stupid looking" You mutter raising the jug to your lips.

Loki scoffs and it makes you laugh as he snatches the jug from your lips and takes a sip. Wiping your mouth you take the book he was reading. "Romeo and Juliet?"

Coughing he swallows what was left in his mouth and nods. "A book from Midgard." He tells you. "Romance actually."

"Ah..." You wiggle your brow. "Never took you for a guy who would read something like that."

"Neither did I." He chuckles then gives you a quick over veiw. "You look different. The last time I saw you in a dress was the night before you left. My mother insisted upon a going away party for you. That was the first time you danced with Thor."

"I remember it well." You reminisce brushing back some of your hair as a short breeze flew past you both. "A couple centuries ago. We were children back then."

"You abandon me-us a for a long time." He tells you. It sounded a bit bitter and 'abandon me?' This wasn't what you wanted to talk about.

"Skurge." You start handing him the book back after clearing your throat. "I'm this close to ripping his tounge out of his mouth and shoving it up his ass." You say sucking in your cheeks.

A laugh comes from Loki's throat and you fold your arms. You didn't see what was so funny. "I'm imagining." He tells you

"He's bee running his mouth off about my brother, Heimdall. He says that he betrayed Asgard and Odin. He ran away to escape his sentence." You reply giving him a glance. "My brother is nothing like that. He loves Asgard just as much as the next Asgardian." You lean closer to Loki as your eyes stare at each others. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about these allegations? Would you?"

"Hedda..." He begins averting his eyes. "If the shoe fits-"

Picking up the jug you take a large gulp and stand. "I knew it!" You spat shutting your eyes with your fingers pinching the bridge of your nose. "How could I be so foolish!"

"Hedda," Loki begins as you pace back and forth. "Heimdall he's a-"

"You lied to me, Loki!" You shout "You told me Heimdall was-"

"I said he disappeared, that part was true. I don't know where he is. All I know is that at one moment he was there and when I came back a week later to see of he was still frozen, he was gone. Who was going to guard the bifrost? Not I." He explains making you even more angry

"Oh because pretending to be Odin is so hard. You walk around in your bathrobe all day stuffing your face with food. How could you?" You ask shoving him. "And freeze my brother? All he's ever done is help you, Loki. He's been a friend to both you and Thor. You made Heimdall sound as if he has abandon his home!" Your fists clench tight as your eyes begin to glisten. "All so you can play dress up!"

"Don't you dare throw that in my face!" Loki shouts pointing his finger at you. "I've been keeping Asgard safe! They'd be lost without me! The nine realms would be lost without me!"

"No!" You shake your head scoffing. "They'd be lost without Odin. They follow Odin, remember that Loki. That's why you dress as him because you know if you showed them who you really are, they'd never follow you!" You yell angrily as heat rises to your face. "Remember Loki, I've been Frigga and Odin's ward way before you were even brought to Asgard! I've known you your entire life! You may have everyone else fooled but not me! I see right through you just like Thor and my brother! You're still the very last person on Asgard who'd anyone trust!"

"And you're still the same brat who had to be sent away to another realm becuase it wasn't just your mother who didn't want you but your own brother" Loki yelled back

Both trying to catch your breaths you both sit under the tree. Your hands on either side of your face as Loki covers his with his large hand. You weren't upset and neither was Loki. It was just strange to be arguing. Like the friendship you both had long ago, didn't go anywhere. You argued then just like now.

You both sat in silence passing the jug back and forth between you each taking a swig. The silence spoke for Loki. He didn't know what to say and neither did you. Soaking it all in just to drain it out with alcohol.

As you went to hand him the jug, you handed you a daisy. A little smile spread across your cheeks and you licked you lips. No daisy was going to solve anything, you weren't kids anymore and Loki knew this. Maybe it could represent something else.

"Truce?" You asks

"Yes." Loki nods

Taking the daisy in between your fingers you place it against your nose and inhale the smell of it. To bad you weren't kids anymore, this daisy had a different meaning back then. For you, it meant you and Loki were still best friends. For him, it wasn't just an apology but his way of showing how much he cared for you.

"Horns." You said opening your eyes seeing him give you a confused look. "Earlier you asked what was missing. Your big bendy horns."

"Sounds perfect." Loki chuckled as you smile, his hand resting on top of yours.

To be continued...

Wanna be tagged? Ask!

Byeeeeeee!

[uncannycookie]

(1) So! A new kid moves to Salt Middle School. This is one of those kids that will analyze the shit outta everyone. "8:35am, day 13. today ___ was very quiet and looked kinda sad. Maybe he just overslept and got yelled at bc of it (evidence: coffee and yawning) If it gets worse I'll talk to him." & "2:07pm, day 8: Today ___ asked ___ out during math class. Dude's got some balls and no chill whatsoever." kinda thing.

How dare you, now I have yet another OC that I’ll never be able to use for anything else ever again! T-T

Also shut up your English is perfect and this prompt is amazing, I loved it so much and I love you, thank you!

AO3 link

Going Native

Kenshin can’t help but stare.

Which, okay, is not exactly news. He stares a lot, all the time, at people and things he finds interesting. It usually doesn’t feel particularly rude - but in this instance, there is the unfamiliar thought nudging at the back of his mind to look away and leave it be. He’s not sure what to make of it.

The math lesson drowns on around him while he flips through his notes, the ones that concern themselves with anything but the actual subject matter of the class, and searches for any previous mention of that particular student.

Kageyama, is it? He honestly isn’t even sure about the name. Kenshin has been in this class for a month now and apparently there has not been a single noteworthy thing about this guy before today.

(And Kenshin wrote it down when Hiroki brought a cucumber sandwich instead of his customary tomato one. So Kageyama has literally been less interesting than a cucumber sandwich this whole time.)

Now Kenshin barely wants to look anywhere else.

It might be nothing. The blue-purplish marks peeking out underneath his high uniform collar could simply be a rash. Those can take pretty strange forms and colors sometimes. Even… vaguely hand-shaped forms. Probably.

Or. Maybe he got some paint on him. He might be an artist. Or maybe his parents are redecorating and he had to help with painting the walls. Maybe he was playing with finger paint with a younger sibling. Maybe it’s not paint and he simply has a girlfriend who got a bit eager. Really, there could be a number of reasons. Kenshin needs to learn not to jump to conclusions all the time, it gets him in trouble or, at the very least, into a multitude of awkward situations.

The quiet, boring, most invisible guy of the class does, however, finally get an entry in Kenshin’s notebook.

Thursday, math class. Kageyama. Weird marks around neck. Possibilities: rash (most likely,) paint, love bites (very unlikely)

He hesitates a bit before putting down choke marks as well. It seems unlikely too? But it is a possibility, so it should be on the list. If he’s already keeping these nonsensical notes, he might as well do it properly.

Kenshin isn’t all that good at talking.

Honestly, he isn’t all that good at a lot of things, especially those involving other people. He is trying right now, trying to get better, trying to not completely freak out at the thought of being the new guy in a school full of people who have already known each other for years.

The fancy little book his sister gave him for his last birthday is clutched hard between his hands nearly at all times. His legs are jiggling frantically up and down under the table, a movement that seems entirely out of his control. He knows it isn’t and that knowledge changes nothing.

The pages are rustling loudly between his fingers as he flips to an empty page. Imako is staring again, he writes down, even though he knows that taking notes during lunch will only make him seem more weird. He can’t help it, the back of his neck is crawling uncomfortably and he has to get rid of the tension somehow.

Don’t know what her problem is. Seems annoyed though, tired too, worse than yesterday. Think she studies way too much.

He’s not at all sure if this is helping, actually. It helps with keeping his thoughts and nerves in order, that’s for sure, but whether sitting quietly by himself and writing all the time will make him fit in with people here is pretty questionable.

Mariko is being way too obvious about her crush on Anzu again. Pretty sure she’s just humoring her at this point. Too nice to turn her down properly.

Kageyama is not in the lunch room, as far as Kenshin can see. Since this is the first time he’s actively looking for him during this period, it’s impossible to say whether or not that’s unusual. Maybe he’s never at lunch. Probably has some club or another that he eats with.

Those marks didn’t really look like paint, actually. And if they’re love bites then - well, it’s not as if Kenshin has all that much experience in this regard, but even as an outsider he’d have to question if a girl that leaves marks like that is entirely human.

(He puts alien girlfriend on the list. Just. For the sake of completion.)

There was a fight the day before.

A sort of turf war, apparently. Nobody really seems to know what happened and who exactly was even involved, but it doesn’t stop anyone from talking as if they know.

Kenshin is not the type to be interested in scandal. But the fact that Kageyama doesn’t show up to class again after lunch has his nose itching with something of an oddly triumphant curiosity.

He’s onto something here. He’s almost sure of it.

“Can I sit here?”

Kageyama doesn’t move his head. He just keeps facing forward, chewing slowly, shoulders drooping a little and hands lightly curled around his chopsticks on the lunch table. His eyes flick up to Kenshin’s face and down to the empty seat he’s pointing at, then up again.

“I think so,” he says.

That’s. Not exactly a friendly invitation. But it’s so soft spoken that it doesn’t exactly sound as rude as it could either.

Kenshin will take what he can get. Shoving his tray on the table, he climbs into the seat next to Kageyama and turns to face him.

The marks around his neck have receded a bit and are turning a sickly greenish yellow color around the edges. At this point, Kenshin seriously wonders why nobody else seems to be noticing this.

“You weren’t in class on Friday,” he says.

Kageyama keeps stoically watching Kenshin without actually bothering to face him.

“Hm,” he makes. His chopsticks clink lightly against the rim of his half empty bowl of rice. His temples look a little sweaty all of a sudden.

Kenshin can relate. The decision to try and talk to Kageyama was made in the heat of the moment, right when he noticed him sitting by himself in the lunch room, and he was so eager to go through with it that he sort of forgot his own inability to people.

Doesn’t help that Kageyama seems to be, unsurprisingly, not much of an expert either.

“Were you, uhhh - sick? Or something?” Kenshin is scratching his cheek nervously, already berating himself for asking such stupid, obvious things. “I mean, yeah, I guess you’re better now, right.”

“Who are you?”

The question takes a second too long to register. As soon as it does, Kenshin’s hand drops from his face. “Uhm?” he starts stupidly. “I’m - Kenshin. Yamato.”

Kageyama keeps looking at him as if still expecting an explanation.

“We’re in the same class?” Kenshin’s legs are jiggling frantically again. “I transferred here last month.”

“Oh. I didn’t notice.” He is so incredibly soft spoken that Kenshin barely hears him over the noise of the lunch room around them. At this point though, it doesn’t actually soften the harsh blow of his words anymore.

“I. Introduced myself in front of the class and everything. You didn’t notice that?”

Kageyama’s eyes flick around the room quickly. He shrugs. “No. Sorry.”

Kenshin’s mouth opens and closes in a probably quite comical way. Good thing Kageyama doesn’t really seem like the type to laugh. Ever.

The laugh that breaks out of Kenshin instead is too loud, just one single awkward guffaw, and then he’s already scrambling to flee the scene, yelling “Okay bye!” and tripping over his own feet.

Just as he’s left his seat he catches Kageyama finally turning his head a bit, but his quiet and slightly worried sounding “You forgot your food,” only really registers with Kenshin when he’s already out of the door.

Monday, lunch. 3 possibilities:1. Kageyama is super unobservant 2. I’m super forgettable3. Kageyama is actually savage

Kageyama looks around inconspicuously in class after lunch. When he finds Kenshin sitting a bit in front and to the left of him, he does this tiny, maybe satisfied nod and turns back towards the teacher again.

So he really, actually didn’t know they were in the same class. Kenshin buries his burning face in the pages of his book and wants to die.

Well. Looks like he’ll never try talking to anyone ever again.

He’s better at watching anyways. Observing. Who needs to talk to people to figure out why they came to school with super obvious choke marks on their neck? Not him. He can deduce things, like a cool detective. This is going to make everyone included feel so much less uncomfortable.

Kenshin doesn’t stalk people, he’s not that low. So it’s actually an honest coincidence that he’s right there around the corner when Onigawara comes up to Kageyama, who is struggling with carrying his books.

Onigawara! The guy who just recently nearly got expelled for his - delinquent dealings with girls’ recorders, of all things. It’s strange and disgusting and the talk of the school right now.

And this guy, barely looking like he’s holding himself together as it is, straight up offers to carry Kageyama’s books for him. And Kageyama kindly refuses. And then they walk off to Kageyama’s body building club together, with Onigawara sort of respectfully following behind a few steps.

Kenshin scribbles a huge What is happening?? underneath his neat accounts of Kageyama’s boringly routine school days and doesn’t even begin making a list of possible explanations. It’d end up three pages long and filled with the most ridiculous ideas.

(In one corner, using very small letters, he does write down secret gang leader? and then crosses it out again. That one’s even more unlikely than the alien girlfriend.)

Something weird and a bit scary is going on at Salt Middle. Kenshin manages to keep his head down and stay focused on his notebook. He’s not the only one walking through the halls with his eyes decidedly averted from everything. It’s one of the best strategies to stay out of trouble at the moment.

Only it’s exactly that strategy that comes back to bite him in the ass, seeing as he’s walking with so little attention to his surroundings that he bumps right into one of those student council members that are waging war on seemingly everyone right now.

The guy is smaller than him, a year younger too, and he still scares the piss out of him with his dead eyes that somehow manage to both look right through Kenshin and burn into him so ferociously that he’s immediately pinned to the spot, unable to flee.

“Did you know that running in the hallway is forbidden?” the council member asks coldly.

Kenshin takes a hasty step back, but the kid follows immediately. They’re standing in the middle of the hall and none of the whispering students all around dare to walk past them.

“I wasn’t running,” Kenshin hurries to say.

The council member kid tilts his head to the side with feigned disbelief. “No? So it’s not that you were just too fast to notice me in time, but you ran into me on purpose?” Kenshin barely has enough time to shake his head and hectically suck in a deep breath to prepare his protest before the kid already snatches the notebook right out of his hand. “Or I suppose you were just too busy with this.”

It doesn’t even seem as if he means to look. The whole encounter so far really doesn’t appear to be the least bit interesting for him. Kenshin feels like the kid is playing his part, and Kenshin was ready to play his own part, grovel and apologize and then scurry off for all the curious onlookers to witness exactly the kind of power play they’ve come to expect these last few days.

But the notebook is open and Kenshin’s writing is pretty large and the other just needs to glance at the page for a mere second to quickly glean the contents.

Kenshin is frozen. Something in the kid’s eyes becomes clearer, a sudden flare of interest, of surprise and - something else that makes the color drain from his face.

Slowly, he looks back up at Kenshin. His face hasn’t changed one bit, but when he speaks, his nostrils flare with disgust for a moment. “What sort of creep are you,” he says, low and monotone and dangerous.

Kenshin’s mouth is too dry, but he still tries to swallow and it scratches his throat. “I, I’m not -” he starts, but the knowledge that he has no chance anyways drains any will to fight out of him and he practically feels himself deflate on the spot.

Watching the kid roughly turning some pages, covered to the rim with lists and notes about various classmates and mostly Kageyama, he feels his mind detach itself and gently float away from the situation. It’s kind of nice, actually.

“How sad,” the kid sneers, hands crumpling the pages, “that people like you manage to go unnoticed for so long.” The book is closed with a snap and held up delicately between two fingers like a disgusting trophy. “At this school, we have respect for other people’s privacy. Obviously that’s a lesson you still need to learn. As a first step, this,” and he gives Kenshin’s fancy, expensive notebook a little shake, “is of course being confiscated.”

“Ah,” Kenshin hears himself make softly. “Of course.”

The council member kid stares him down for another few seconds, then finally steps to the side. “You’ll be late for class.”

“Okay,” Kenshin says, and proceeds to class. His limbs feel a bit wobbly, as if he’s moving them by pulling on strings attached to the joints from far away. Some people might be staring at him.

Kenshin is not the least bit surprised when he’s stopped by another council member the next day and the investigation of his bag reveals a pair of girl’s underwear he’s never seen before.

It’s okay though. Unlike most other people this happened to, he doesn’t have friends or any kind of image to lose.

His family doctor has known him for years and asks not a single question before agreeing to put him on sick leave for a few days.

Kenshin stays home, in bed, only crawling outside sometimes for a bowl of cereal or something, and hopes that the doctor’s word is enough to keep his parents mostly away for a while, seeing as his illness is apparently “harmless, but highly contagious.”

His sister texts him from the next room and sometimes he even answers. She asks “btw did that notebook help a bit?” and Kenshin sends three of the weirdest and least meaningful emojis he can find and shuts off his phone.

At some point, a group of delinquents stands in front of his window, throwing pebbles at it until he opens and then dramatically requesting that he join them on their quest for revenge against the student council kid.

Kenshin blinks for a while and then slowly closes the window again. After about a minute of him hiding his head under a pillow, they stop throwing pebbles and just leave.

When Kenshin has to go back to school, he still keeps his head down, but now while paying attention to where he’s going. Things seem to have calmed down a bit for now, though Kenshin wasn’t here so of course he doesn’t know what changed.

He’s kind of lucky, in a way. Not enough people had any idea who he even was and so many more interesting students got in trouble at roughly the same time, so his own personal stalker-slash-pervert scandal didn’t really get a lot of recognition all around.

Except in his class, of course. Because they do sort of know him. They are the ones who have been sitting next to him all day every day, the ones for whom his whole shtick of The guy who writes all the time was brutally turned inside out and changed to The guy who was stalking people and stole girl’s underwear.

Kenshin stops halfway through this train of thought, because he vaguely remembers that it started with “I’m kind of lucky,” but now he can’t recall the point he was trying to make to himself at all.

Either way, he makes sure not to take notes anymore. On anything. Not even on the stuff he really, really should takes notes on. Listening to the teacher in math class makes the few days he missed feel like a few years and he seriously needs to write this down, but every time he moves his fingers towards the pen, suddenly a thousand pairs of eyes are boring into his neck all at once.

The cheap, lined paper in front of him stays empty.

So do the seats next to him during lunch.

He doesn’t sit there for long, the happy chattering all around the room is just as deafening as the silence of no one actually talking to him and that apparently bothers him now even though it never did before. Better to just up and leave and flee to the empty hallway with the vending machine.

Just as he’s fishing around his wallet for coins, there is suddenly a very small, very reluctant “Uhm, excuse me?” from behind him.

With a pretty undignified squawk Kenshin jumps and nearly crashes face first into the vending machine before he finds his footing and quickly turns around.

Kageyama takes a hasty step back. “Ah. Hello,” he says, eyes flitting from left to right and back again.

Kenshin can’t possibly decide what horrifies him more right now - the fact that this guy is actually talking to him and that creepy council member kid could walk around the corner at any moment and see, or the fact that Kageyama looks as if he comes fresh from a wrestling match with a fucking bear.

The choke marks are almost completely faded, but Kageyama’s entire face is covered in darkening bruises, bandages and fresh scratches. His lips are split and his eyes bloodshot.

Kenshin’s silent, dumbfounded stare visibly makes his shoulders tense the longer it goes on. “I, I’m Shigeo Kageyama. Mob,” he finally says, even softer than Kenshin has heard from him before. “We’re in the same class.”

Kenshin swallows hard. “Yeah. I know that.” Even with his heartbeat hectically pounding in his ears, he can’t stop himself from putting emphasis on the I, knowing full well that this is not the time to get snarky, he’s trying to keep a low profile so he really shouldn’t be seen talking to - and being snarky to! - the guy he technically stalked before this whole mess.

Granted, nobody but creepy council member kid knows about that, probably, but still.

Kageyama nods. “Okay. I wasn’t sure. It’s been a few days since we talked.”

At first, Kenshin thinks he should mark it as a success that this time, Kageyama at least remembers him. But before he can get that far, Kageyama is already moving to hold something out towards him and any possibility of feeling good about himself today is snatched away in an instant.

Kageyama has his notebook.

Why does Kageyama have his notebook.

This is the worst.

Kenshin would very much like to stop existing now, thank you.

“Is this yours? My brother had it,” Kageyama is saying, though there appears to be a bit of a delay before the words actually reach Kenshin’s ears, and even then they sound oddly slowed down and far away. “He meant to give everything back he confiscated, but I think he forgot about this one.”

Kenshin’s arm is back to being tied to a string and being dragged forward by it all by itself. He barely even feels it when his hand loosely closes around his book once again.

“Did you read it?” he apparently decides to ask, though how and when that decision was made he couldn’t say, he wasn’t present at the time.

“No.” Kageyama starts to shake his head but then stops halfway. The movement must hurt. “Was I supposed to?”

“Not at all,” Kenshin answers strangely cheerfully. With an unnecessary look around - nobody ever uses this vending machine, it’s way too expensive and often broken so he knows the place is empty - he drops the notebook into his bag and then clutches it in front of him with both arms. “Why does your face look like that?”

(Why has Kenshin’s brain decided to just barf things out through his mouth without his permission, this is not fair and he would like it to stop.)

With a glance past Kenshin and towards the shiny surface of the vending machine, Kageyama appears to check his own reflection.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You know!” Kenshin crudely gestures to the bandages and bruises, flipping his hand back and forth between the two of them. “All - beat up like that.”

“Oh. That’s because I got beat up.”

In a way, Kenshin is grateful for the terrible, terrible confusion this whole conversation is dropping on him, because it’s sort of forcing him to come back to himself so he can actively try to figure out what’s even going on right now.

“Cool?” he starts, slowly. “That’s. I mean. That’s cool. Sure. And, uhh,” he wriggles his forefinger towards his own neck, “that? You had bruises there too, kinda looked like… choke marks?”

Kageyama’s nod is slow and thoughtful. “Someone did choke me. That’s probably where it was from.”

It’s not a surprise anymore at this point, but some small part of Kenshin was still hoping for the answer to be rash or alien girlfriend.

He takes a deep breath, trying hard to swallow the frustration that is coming included with these half-answers he’s getting. “Are you, like - alright?” he asks reluctantly, voice carefully lowered. “Do you need help or something?”

Kageyama puts a hand to his chin as he seems to consider this. “Did you understand the math lesson today?” he asks.

Kenshin is too dumbfounded by the question to do anything more than slowly shake his head.

“Ah,” Kageyama makes, and this time there is almost an emotion in his tone. It might be disappointment. “Then I don’t need your help, thank you.”

“Okay?” Kenshin laughs awkwardly, too loud and too shrill once again, the constant loops he’s being thrown for in this confrontation are starting to get to him. “I meant with whoever was choking you and beating you up? Because that seems kinda bad?”

Kageyama’s eyes are flicking around the hall again, from one side to another, sweat glistening on his forehead. “We stopped fighting. It’s fine now.”

Suddenly leaning forward into the other’s space, Kenshin lowers his voice and whispers: “Was it Onigawara?”

Kageyama is leaning back in turn and drawing up his shoulders, eyes widened as far as possible, considering they’re bruised and almost swollen shut. “Who?”

“Gah!” Kenshin wants to throw his hands up, but remembers just in time that he’s clutching his bag to his chest as if it’s a giant teddy bear and he kinda needs his arms to keep it from falling. “You know, the guy with the recorders! The, the, he’s got this hair and is leading a gang and all!”

Something like reluctant understanding is ghosting over Kageyama’s mostly empty expression, but it’s drowned out by the persistent question marks that remain in his eyes regardless. “I don’t really get it,” he says, “but you don’t need to worry. I just meant to give your book back. It looks expensive.”

Kenshin looks down to his feet in shame, fingers picking at the straps of his bag. “It was,” he mumbles. And even though Kageyama said he didn’t read it and Kenshin is actually inclined to believe him, he really can’t stop himself from trying to justify this whole thing. “I didn’t mean to make anyone uncomfortable with it,” he says, barely even tripping over his words. “It just - helps me clear things up in my mind, you know.”

The way Kageyama tracks the nervous movement of Kenshin’s fingers and then looks up to meet his eyes again seems almost politely interested. “I don’t know,” he says and at this point Kenshin is not even surprised anymore, this guy has literally only given him both the strangest and at the same time most mundane answers. “But it sounds useful. Ah, apart from - making people uncomfortable, I guess.”

Kenshin snorts lightly. “Yeah,” he says slowly, glancing down at the floor again and then off to the side, not sure what to say next.

Neither is Kageyama, it seems. It’s just for a few seconds that the silence stretches between them, but it feels terrible and that just after they agreed to not make people uncomfortable, it’s ironic or something, Kenshin is sweating and he wants to leave but he has no idea how to gracefully end the conversation and -

“Well,” Kageyama says softly. “Bye.” And he turns and walks away.

Kenshin stares after him with a strange sort of respect. The sort that makes him think “next time, I gotta try and end a conversation that way,” even though he knows he’d never have the balls to do it.

Just as he starts to lower his bag, meaning to finally fish out enough money to buy a goddamn chocolate bar, he notices someone stepping up to Kageyama at the end of the hall from the corner of his eyes.

With a quick double take, Kenshin whips around again and watches as Onigawara leans down to Kageyama, talking casually, seemingly offering to carry his school bag. Shigeo-who-is-Onigawara-never-heard-of-him-Kageyama gently shakes his head once again.

And somehow, somewhere in that conversation, Kageyama must have said something about Kenshin, because suddenly Onigawara looks up and straight at him.

Kenshin stops moving. It’s what he’s heard you’re supposed to do when being stared down by a dangerous animal. Or, wait, was it actually what you’re not supposed to do? Was it actually “walk backwards slowly and don’t make eye contact” or - dammit he doesn’t remember!

Just as he’s silently reaching the peak of his panic, Onigawara straightens up at the end of the hallway, still staring him down with that customary frown of his, and nods at him. Once. While tapping his own chest with his fist in a sort of - respectful way? Or. Not respectful. Just, kind of, in a way of nearly friendly acknowledgment.

Then Kageyama starts walking again and without a single word or signal or anything, Onigawara loyally follows behind.

Ah.

He already got it right before.

Secret Gang Leader.

Makes sense.

Kenshin finally gets his chocolate bar, the cheapest one he can find. He replays that conspiratorial nod in his mind. He doesn’t hope it means he’s some sort of honorary gang member now.

(Except he really does.)

(Because shit, he’s never been that cool before.)