#some shadows though- they use the chance to talk to someone to be super obnoxious or mean and just all around unpleasant

[multishipper-baby]

I don't think Eze has any special powers aside from being able to see and speak to shadows, but I do think he occasionally pretends he does when dealing with shadows that are particularly annoying or rowdy.

[some-dr-writings]

Maki and her protective best friend celebrate her birthday one-shot: Have Your Cake and Eat it Too

The life of an assassin was a rather lonely one, for Maki Harukawa at least. Nothing but hiding and killing people. That was it for the most part. Often times she’d think back to a certain mission that would change her life, the mission that allowed her to just be a person for a while, the assignment that took her to Hope’s Peak Academy. Initially she was just there for work, but in her time looking into her target’s schedule, she got to get to know people, talk, and laugh with others, get roped into others’ silly plans, just have fun with her class. After taking out her target she was supposed to leave, but she stayed. She kept attending as the Super High School Caregiver, for the first time she ignored an order and made a choice for herself. She stayed and made friends. It was by far the best time in her life. She found herself just wanting to be with them, and she fought for it, and it was all worth it. No matter how she longed to return to those days she could never go back though. The moment they graduated it was all over, she had to slink back into the shadows and return to her true work.

At times, she wondered if things could have turned out different though. It is said that all those who attend Hope’s Peak Academy and managed to graduate were guaranteed a great future. Perhaps there she could have made an even bigger change in her life than allowing herself agency. Perhaps she could have gone even farther, find some way to make lots of money to keep her old orphanage running without the need of assassins. Leave her old life behind and make a new one, one where she could keep better contact with her friends. One where she wouldn’t have to worry about their safety if she stayed close to them. Very few of her old friend could she keep around to some extent, but even then, she had to keep them at a great distance and disappear for years on end from them.

Maki never regretted attending Hope’s Peak and staying, never even crossed her mind to consider it. Leaving hurt, but her memories could never be taken away. She could always keep those precious moment close at hand, times she drew strength from like her time at the orphanage. No matter the amount of blood spilled, the constant moving from place to place, hiding and attacking, the paranoia, she always had those memories.

It was rarer, but at times, her missing these times became too much to bear, there was one place she could return to for a week or less to recapture the carefreeness she could never attain anywhere else. A single apartment tucked away in some city, hidden away from the world. It was the perfect place for those who preferred to hide away from one and all.

As Maki approached the apartment, she heard the distinct sound of laughter and something being knocked over. Maki leaped back, the door suddenly slamming open. “Nishishi! Ah! MAKIROLL!” The purple haired gremlin ducked behind her, clutching something. “Protect me with your scary, evil, assassin, murder, death glair!” Maki shoved Kokichi into the wall behind her, slapping a hand over his mouth. “Do you want to die?” Her grip was not tight though, knowing Kokichi was not stupid enough to so loosely say that, he would only do so now knowing no one could be listening in. Even so, her reaction to hearing that was so instinctive. Kokichi managed to slip out from under her hand. “Yeah! That look exactly! Now! I choose you, Maki! Use scary-evil-assassin-murder-death-glair on Y/N!” She looked to the open door, you out of breath, your smile beaming. “Maki!” She didn’t move accepting you tackling her into a hug. “You’re back! You’re back, you’re back, you’re back!” A bright blush instantly erupted on her cheeks as you squeezed her tightly, nuzzling into her. “Oh~ What’s this? Our stoic assassin has a weakness for hugs?” Kokichi hugged her tightly as well, only making the blush on her cheeks darken to a bright red. “D-do you want to die!?” “Maki get’s hugs.” “Maki get’s hugs!”

If Maki could only keep one person from her high school days, she was so glad it was you, her best friend… even if you usually came with Kokichi of all people.

Eagerly you took Maki’s hands, dragging her into the apartment as Kokichi did the same but instead shoving her in. “Aw, this is the best! I didn’t think we’d have you for your birthday!” “My birthday?” As you dashed away into the kitchen Kokichi hopped up, taking Maki’s coat. “Whaaaaa!? You didn’t know today was your own birthday!?” Those crocodile tears came pouring out as he wailed. “Thaaaaaat’s sooo saaaaaaad!” Those tears however abruptly stopped as Kokichi spotted you. “Oh! Cake!” “Happy birthday Maki!” You presented the white frosted cake to her, giving it a twirl before placing it on the island that separated the living room from the kitchen. Kokichi had already scampered off, gathering plates and forks.

So it was February already? Maki hadn’t even noticed. As she sat at the island, watching as you and Kokichi playfully bickered about who was going to cut the cake, you worrying about Kokichi taking a giant piece for himself or some such, Maki wondered how long it had been since she had seen the pair of you. It had been at least little more than a year, she knew that for sure.

“Ugh! Why do I even live with a brat like you anyway?” “You make almost no money and only I do.” “… Damn it!” “Y’know, the offer to join my secret evil organization is still open! Same goes for you miss, evil scary assassin! We could use someone li-” Kokichi’s offer was cutoff by you slamming a hand on the Island, before Kokichi. “Maki is not evil, nor is she scary you monster. Look at her, she’s the definition of adorable!” Maki immediately turned away, nervously playing with her hair. “Not this again.” A light blush dusted on her cheeks knowing what was happening. “Excuse me!? Yes, this again!” You leaned over the table, gently poking her cheek. “Soft squishable cheeks. Big eyes. Little ears. Pouty smile. Get’s flustered easily. Simply adorable!” It seemed every time she came to see you Kokichi would appear at some point and say something to get you to go off on how great, cute, or amazing she was. She’d almost think Kokichi was doing this on purpose specifically to get you to compliment her so much but to Maki this could not be the case. To Maki, Kokchi was a selfish creature. All he did was for his own entertainment so getting you to compliment Maki and fluster her was for Kokichi’s entertainment, not for Maki, she couldn’t understand the dictator’s behavior in any other way.

As you continued to go on how adorable she was Kokichi cut three giant slices of cake for each of you. It was red velvet. It was delicious. She never said anything about it, but… Maki liked it, knowing that at least you and maybe Kokichi were going to celebrate her birthday, even if she likely wouldn’t have been around to celebrate it too. She remembered how despite it happening every year, every time she was surprised when you and the whole class threw a birthday party for her. And yet again the exact same thing has happened, you and others, well, one other, surprising her by celebrating her birthday.

Before Maki knew it, most of the cake was gone and the three of you were making a fort in the living room. “This is stupid. Why are we even doing this?” “What!? Stupid!? Gurl, we’re making our secret base!” Kokichi skipped away to gather more blankets while you were trying to figure out where to place a chair. “Well, you seem to be enjoying yourself, so I think that’s a good enough reason!” “Maybe I am.” Maki acted as your assistant getting blankets and pillows from your room to add to the fort, all the while Kokichi mostly keeping to his room, occasionally popping out and cause chaos, knocking down a wall only for you and Maki to make the fort even bigger and more sturdy. Soon there was nothing else that could be used, and it was a mighty fort indeed.

You and Maki sat huddle inside. You held Maki’ hand, carefully brushing the first coat of nail polish on her nails while Kokichi kept being unable to decide which color Maki should wear… despite you already brushing a color on. “Say, when was the last time you got your nails painted?” “Last time I visited you.” “Three years ago!?” Ah… so that’s how long it’s been. You looked to your dear friend in disappointment. “Maki! You promised me you’d try to do more things for yourself!” “I came here, didn’t I?” “Well, yeah. But you need to take care of yourself more often, not every couple of years!” “I don’t have many chances to do this. I much rather paint my nails with you than on my own.” “…” You were silent, just thinking for a moment. “Was this really the first opportunity you had in three years?” “… No, this isn’t, but this was the only good chance. My next assignment is not too close, no one is following me, I can actually be here.” “Then what about those other times when you can’t get here. Can’t you do even a little something for yourself then?” “I have to focus on work.” “All work and nothing else… well, you’re unfortunately used to that.” “Yeah.” Kokichi groaned as he placed one of the little bottles down. “Geez Maki-dearest-” “Don’t call me that.” “Your life must suck. Why don’t you make a change! Have some fun!” “Shut up, you don’t know why I have to do this… Why I can’t do anything else.” “… Wow, so depressing. Is this why you’re always sulking?” “I don’t sulk!” “Oh, miss sad assassin, I’d almost pitty you if you weren’t heartless.” Kokichi smirked seeing you had tried to hit him with a rolled up magazine. “Maki has feelings, and she expresses them too! She’s just not as loud and obnoxious as SOME people!” “Aw, Y/N, it’s okay. We already know you’re a cry baby, you don’t have to tell us.” Kokichi immediately sprinted out of the fort, you lunging after him for a tussle. “Don’t bother, he’s just trying to get a ruse out of you.” “Yeah! That just makes beating him with a pillow more fun!” Maki couldn’t help but laugh a little seeing you were just as fiery, looking for any excuse to fight as ever. “So, how has the underground wrestling been treating you?” “I won the world championship!” Your eyes sparked with delight as you went on to explaining how it was one of your toughest matches, both you and your opponent trying your best, not holding anything back, even if it meant playing dirty and using weapons or throwing chairs.

And that was how the rest of the day went, just you and Maki happily chatting as you did whatever Maki liked and not often had the chance to do, like playing with make-up or styling her hair. Small little things that Maki so loved and appreciated that so many others got to do without a second thought. All too soon that fun had come to an end though. You had long gone to sleep and would not awaken for another few hours while Maki was up and restless.

Maki looked around the kitchen, searching through cupboard after cupboard till she found where the plastics were kept. She took out a little container and a fork, placing much more money than the cost of the things on the counter in case these were something more expensive than expected. She then cut a slice of cake, placing it in the container, along with the fork. She then stowed it away in the bag she had discarded upon arrival. Collecting that as well as the coat she had all she brought and left.

Upon exiting the building she looked up, finding the sky pitch black, pure white snow gently drifting down mixing and twirling around her frozen breaths which drifted up into the air, getting carried away by the wind, no control as to it’s destination before dissipating into nothing with the air. She pulled on the ends of her coat, hugging herself making it tighter as to be a better shield from the chilled world which surrounded her. With her every step down the sidewalk her lone footfalls echoed, a soft crunching sound of the snow being crushed under the weight of it all as she moved on. Of all seasons, winter had to be Maki’s least favorite, she couldn’t see why so many others found it to be so fun and great. It was just cold to her, nothing else. She sighed, wondering how long this awful snowfall was going to last, there seemed to be no end in sight.

There was hardly any other soul around, it was the early morning hours after all, just a little past midnight in fact. No one would want to be out in this dreadful cold. It was dark out too, making it hard to see. However that did not mean one could not notice some things like sounds that were almost silences by the snow that seemed to blanket everything, even it however could not cover up that distinctive voice. “Awww, you leaving already Maki-bear?” “Shut up. Stop giving me stupid nicknames. What do you want anyway?” That dreaded ‘Nishishi’ laughter rumbled out of him, the smile clear in it’s tone. “Why do you have to be such a meanie! I just want to say goodbye to my big sister!” “I am NOT your big sister!” A sigh escaped him at that response. “You always do this, sneak away when we’re not looking. Is it that hard for you to say goodbye? Don’t want to relive saying goodbye to everyone at our graduation ceremony?” He hummed away for a moment, then spoke, cutting off any response Maki could have made. “Say now that I think about it… You said goodbye to everyone but Y/N and I. It’s because we’re the only ones you knew you could see without putting into danger right? Because we both also specialize in illegal activities and know how to avoid people like you, right? Right!? I’m right, aren’t I! I knew it!” How his tone could so effortlessly change as if turning on and off a light with a single flip of the switch, that must have been one of the things Maki disliked most about the man, only second to how annoying and childish he relished being. His tone went from something somewhat serious to jubilation.

“You know, you can see them again. You don’t have to keep killing yourself. You can have your cake and eat it too!” “What?” Maki instinctively took a step back, hearing Kokichi was drawing nearer. This was a tone Maki had so rarely heard. It was a tone she could never quite place what it was, it was something like serious, but it was more open, light, earnest… who was she kidding, Kokichi could never be honest and open. His embrace was tight and warm. Even with the layers Maki could feel Kokichi’s heart beating next to her’s. “You know just as well as I do that crime can pay. How do you think I can afford an apartment for Y/N and other places around the world for me and my lackies? Join us. Slaving away at something you don’t even like. That’s just cruel torture. I know you can see it, a chance to break free. You can risk it all for a world where you can live a little, laugh, have fun, see everyone again. You can be family and not just on stand by waiting for SOMETHING! You can make a choice! Come with me, leave your cold dead world behind and come join me in the warmth of others. Let yourself love without any walls. Embrace others unabashedly without worry. Join me in a better life… Please. You can’t keep going like this Maki. We could have days like this every day, and we can protect whoever you want. I know you see it, you don’t need to sacrifice them or yourself anymore. No more aching, no more distance. You can let yourself be warm and close with others.”

Suddenly Kokichi pushed himself away. “But why would you believe a liar like me.” There was that childish tone Maki was all too accustomed too. “Whatever, I’m going to draw on Y/N face with marker, I’ve been getting rusty in my graffiti skills.” Then he skipped away. Maki huffed in annoyance, moving on. The hell was that brat saying. This was Maki’s life, she couldn’t move on to something else…

Sitting on the train Maki watched as she was carried away from the little town, the sun begging to rise, it’s golden glow obscured by the dark clouds. Opening her bag Maki found something unexpected. It was the rest of the cake in a container. There wasn’t much cake left anyway, but… Maki shook her head at the notion, the moment she opened the lid it likely would explode or something, Kokichi would do something like that. Maki did indulge on her slice. Even a little piece was better than nothing, leaving it all behind. It’s hard to quit something once you’ve gotten a taste of it after all.

It was a good thing maki left so soon, she was unexpectedly given new work not even an hour later. She was setting up in her new apartment. It was quiet and empty save a few basic necessities, but nothing else. Maki didn’t need anything else anyway. As she unpacked she cautiously placed the cake on some counter. As she took off her coat something fell out of one of the pockets. On one side was an address, and the other it just said ‘If you want to have your cake and eat it too’ followed by a little doodle of Kokichi’s face. This was all just some elaborate prank, it couldn’t be real in the slightest.

And so she continued to unpack though there was not much.

And she did her work.

And she waited for another assignment.

And she did her work.

And she waited for another assignment.

And she did her work.

And she waited for another assignment.

And she did her work.

And she waited for another assignment.

And she did her work.

And she waited for another assignment.

And she did her work.

And she waited for another assignment.

And she did her work.

And she waited for another assignment.

And she did her work.

And she waited for another assignment.

And she did her work.

And she waited for another assignment.

All that time though she kept the cake, untouched in its box. That was till she found everything just tasted bland. So she tried the cake. It was stale, a little hard, but… it had some taste. And it felt warm.

It couldn’t hurt to at least look into where the address lead too. Who knows, maybe there really would be cake, and it’s be fresh and truly warm.

[bnhascribbles]

Genuine

Shindo x Reader

Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, Fluff, Humor, Pining (?)

Words: 2.6K

Warnings: Swearing

“I’m starting to feel a little neglected sitting over here by myself, you know.”  Shindo has to shout to be heard over the rhythmic thwumping of the bass.

“S’not my fault you insist on being so damn boring, Yo.”  You grab his wrist and tug, but he doesn’t budge, still leaning back against the bar counter like his ass is glued to the edge of it.  You scoff and try again, even though you know there’s about a zero-percent chance of it actually doing any good.  “Come oooooon, get up and dance or mingle or do something.  You look like a creepy old man just standing at the bar like this.”

It’s dark, but you don’t need lights to see the way Shindo glowers at you.

“I was up at 4 AM waiting for your flight to land, you know, since you practically begged me to pick you up.  Then while you got to sleep all day, I had to go put in hours at the agency.”  He peers down at his soda, mouth pulled back in a thin line.  “Then, for some reason, I agreed to come out with you and got dubbed the ‘designated sober friend.’  I think I’ve earned the right to be as boring as I want.”

“Blah blah blah, ‘look at me, I’m Shindo Yo and I’m annoyed because someone wants to spend time with me.”  You squat low, peering up at Shindo through the edge of his glass.  At least now he has to look at you, no matter how grumpy he’s pretending to be.  “Don’t act like you aren’t thrilled to have me back.”

“I’d be more excited if you didn’t always insist on being such a pain.”

You purse your lips and wiggle in a little closer.  “You know you love it.”  

Shindo shakes his head, but cracks a smile.  Success.  Not that you’d actually thought he was angry with you.  He just liked pushing your buttons, getting a rise out of you however he could.  It’d always been like that, and you’re more than a little glad to know that the months apart hadn’t changed anything.

You’d be a liar if you said you didn’t want some things to change though.

Brushing off the thought, you stand and order a beer like you’d meant to when you first wandered up to the bar.  Your drink comes quickly and, as you’re taking the first gulp, an evil sort of plan hatches in your jet-lagged brain.

You take a second gulp of beer.  “I’m gonna need another one of these.”  You say, just loud enough for Shindo to hear.

“I’m not carrying you home.”  He says without glancing over, seeming much more interested in the mass of shadowy bodies clumped together on the dancefloor than he is in you.

“It’s not for me.”  This earns Shindo’s gaze, his upturned eyebrow.  You grin, all teeth, and tilt your chin up in the direction of a cluster of tables.  “Third table from the right.  There’s this one guy with swooshy blonde hair standing there.”  

Shindo squints as he searches through the flashing lights.  Then he frowns.

“See him?  He’s cute, yeah?”

Then, Shindo huffs, but hardly looks at the stranger as he puts his drink down.  “Not interested.”  

“Not for you, moron.”  You chew on your thumb, your cheeks aching from the stretch of your lips.  “For me.”

Suddenly, he directs his attention back towards you, head tilted and sporting a look of complete disbelief.  “You’ve literally been back for less than 24 hours,” he speaks slowly, “and you’re already scouting out a boy-toy?”

You roll your eyes.  “‘Boy-toy?’ What are you, eighty-two?”  

Shindo doesn’t speak, but glares, folding his arms over his chest.  He’s not even making a subtle attempt to hide his irritation.  Judging by the dark look in his eyes, the way they seem more like bottomless pits than anything even vaguely human, you can tell this is real Shindo you’re talking to.  Good.  The guy needed to learn a thing or two about being genuine every once in a while.

“Come on, he’s super sweet.  I nearly fell on my face dancing out there and he caught me before I could make a fool of myself.”  When his expression remains hard, you prod at his arm with your elbow.  “Besides, you know I’m a softie for the nice boys.”

“You also have a thing for idiots apparently.”  Shindo makes a vague gesture over towards the table with his hand.  “Look at those eyes, the stupid smile: that dude wouldn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground.”

“Well, then I guess it’s a good thing we don’t need to be rocket scientists to have a fun time.”  Downing the rest of your beer, you waggle your eyebrows at Shindo.  “Guess I’ll have to fill you in later, Mr. Boring.”

You’re extra sure to amble, not at all in a rush to lock eyes with the bartender.  You muss up your hair a bit, then pat it back down.  Then, you pick at the little bits of dirt beneath each fingernail, pretending you can actually see anything beneath the blinding flash of neon lights.  You’re just wasting time—waiting.  All the while, you make sure to strategically not notice the way Shindo’s gaze drifts between you and that corner table.  Your shoulder.  Back to the table.  Your waist.  Back to the table.  Your lips.  Back to the table.

Just as you open your mouth to order another drink, someone presses a hand flat against your chest, nudging you back, away from the counter.  Twisting slightly, you see Shindo, staring intently at a spot somewhere between your eyes.  You shoot him a quizzical look and he furrows his brow.

Then, slowly—very slowly—half of his mouth curls upward.  Not in a sweet or cheerful sort of way.  No, this was an impish, self-satisfied sort of expression, one that Shindo seems to have mastered over the years.  Still, you can see how he might fool others, even without trying.  The smile, the twinkling eyes, the dimple for god's sake: he looks about as menacing as one of those cherubs you might find in a Renaissance painting.  

“Your face is red.”  He says matter-of-factly, putting down his drink and pressing the back of his hand to your forehead.  It feels warm.

You swat away his wrist, scoffing.  You didn’t know what he was up to, but hell if you were gonna fall for it.

“It’s hot in here.  Plus, I was just da—“

“No.” Shindo cuts you off, shoving one long finger into your shoulder. Hard.  “See, you can barely stand up straight.”

Naturally, you wobble—Shindo was strong, and the telltale numbness that’s still buzzing through your shoulder tells you that his quirk might also have something to do with your sudden lack of balance.

“I’m wearing heels, asshole!  What do you think you’re trying—”

“I think you’re drunk,”  Shindo says, taking a step forward, casting a shadow over you,  “I think you’ve had your fun, and I should take you home now.”

You cock your jaw to the side and peer up at him.  It takes everything in you not to burst out in a fit of victorious laughter.

“I’ve literally had one drink.”  

He shrugs.  “You’re a lightweight.”

“And you’re jealous.”  For the briefest moment, you think you see his eyes widen.  But just as quickly as it comes, it passes.  Still, it’s enough to prove your suspicions.  “I knew it would work.  I actually made you jealous.”

Before you get the chance to gloat any more, Shindo is ushering you towards the door with one hand draped over your shoulder.  You would tease him more, but every time you open your mouth to shout something snarky over the sound of the DJ, a sharp buzz radiates out from his palm and makes you squeak.  Even after years of being subjected to Shindo’s “sneak attacks,” his quirk still felt like one of those old fashioned shock pens you and your schoolmates used to play with.  It was never painful, just a surprise.

The two of you walk like that for a while, even after you get outside and the night air cools your faces.  You don’t shimmy away from Shindo until you’re well past the red rope barriers, past the stragglers still loitering around the club entrance and the bouncers keeping them away from the doors.

“You can let go of me now.  Ya’ know, since I’m not drunk.”

Shindo stops walking, seeming less-than-bothered by the accusatory tone you take on.  “Prove it. How many fingers am I holding up?”  He holds up two on his left hand and one on his right.  As always, he has to put up a fight despite the fact you both already know it’s all just an act. 

“Three.”  You answer without hesitation.  You flick up your middle finger and wiggle it in front of his face. “Now how ‘bout you?  How many do you see?”

He shoves both hands in his pockets and grins wide. “Shit, guess you’re right.  That’s my bad.”

“Oh, like your little ‘mistake’ wasn’t completely intentional.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about—ow!”  Shindo yelps when you reach over and pinch his arm through his sleeve.  He lets his jaw hang in a look of mock incredulity.  “Is this the thanks I get for looking out for you?  Making sure some creep doesn’t try and hurt you while you’re completely wasted?”

You roll your eyes.  “Trust me Yo, nobody can hurt me like you can.”  

Without a warning, he starts moving again  Quickly, brushing shoulders with you as he stomps along the pavement.  Still, he turns his body around and faces you when he gets further ahead, walking backward instead of, you know, actually looking where he’s going.

“Talk about ungrateful.  Weren’t you supposed to have a thing for nice guys?”

You hurry to catch up to him.  “We both know you’re not nice.”

“What a shame”  He sighs obnoxiously loud.  

You’re sure to grasp the opportunity you’re granted.

“Why?”  You ask.

“Why what?”

“Why is it a shame?  Were you hoping you’d be my type?”

He laughs, and easy, playful sort of sound.  “You know I’m always holding out hope that you’ll—”

“—Because if you’re right, then I might have a thing for idiots too.”  You say, squeezing his arm tighter.  Suddenly, breathing seems harder somehow.  More forced, more deliberate.  “So why don’t you just admit you’re in love with me so I can figure that out for myself.”

And just like that, Shindo goes rigid.  It’s an immediate, visible tension that courses through every muscle, like a rubber band stretched to breaking point, just waiting to snap.  His mouth opens, then shuts.  It opens again and his mouth moves, tracing out the shape of words—none of which actually come out.  But, like a switch, he inhales and his lopsided smirk is back in its full glory.

“Yeah, I’m totally in love with you.  It’s all fuzzies and heart-eyes over here.”

Even though you’d somewhat expected it, Shindo’s nonchalant tone grates at something deep in your chest.  You yank your hand away from his elbow, feeling extremely warm and irritated and confused all at once.

“Shindo Yo, can you be sincere for once in your fucking life?”

You hadn’t expected for your outburst to seem so...desperate?  Angry maybe, but desperate no.  If you were smart you would’ve rolled your eyes, tinged the sentence with a bit of sarcasm, something.  Then again, that was the reason you were in this position in the first place.  Too many years of joking, skirting around the topic like somehow, addressing it would ruin something.  And it could very well do that still.  But dammit, you needed to know already.  

If your months abroad had taught you anything, it was that you loved Shindo.  There were the phone calls that carried on for hours, the ones where neither of you wanted to hang up, where you’d each just talk and talk and wait for someone’s phone to die.  There were the dreams that always seemed to have him in them somewhere, whether he was the hero, the villain, or just another face in the crowd. Then, there was the way you couldn’t look at any other man, the way they all seemed too affectionate, too stifling, too boring in comparison.  Yes, against every ounce of logical sense, you loved Shindo.  That wasn’t a choice.

Maybe that’s why the uncharacteristic silence is so jarring.  

“Is that a ‘no’ then?”  You ask, dreading the answer.

Shindo stands there.  He stands there for what feels like an eternity, lips parted slightly, the hand not in his pocket balled into a tight fist.

“It’s not a ‘no.’” He says, soft, but to you, he might as well be shouting.  Because there’s some hope in “not a no.”  Still, you need more.

“You said you loved me last year before I left for America.  I think about that a lot.  More than you probably think I do, and—”  You inhale and run a trembling hand down your face, tucking it beneath your chin once it’s finished its course.  It probably looks awkward, like you’re some sort of prey animal finding comfort in protecting your neck from an inevitable attack.  Still, you do it because it’s one of the only things keeping you from hyperventilating.  You had ten plus years of friendship at stake here.  You would be stupid to risk that without a little restlessness.

“—and I just need to know if that was a joke.  If you didn’t actually mean it.  Don’t try to change the subject and don’t lie to try and make me feel better: I’ve known you way too long for that Yo, so don’t even try it.”

There’s no sparkle in his eyes when he steps forward—not a hint of playfulness when he furrows his brow, nor a bit of cockiness when he chews his lip.  The exact moment is a blur, but by the time the street stops seeming so fuzzy, Shindo is closer.  Practically chest-to-chest with you actually.

“You say it first.”  He demands, voice riddled with all the authority of a pro-hero.  Not that that meant you had to actually listen to him.  This was still Yo, after all.

“That’s not how this—”

“Please.”  

You think it’s the first time you’ve ever heard him say the word earnestly.  That fact alone is enough to make you compromise.  You’d no doubt groan later when you remembered the way he knew nearly every way to make your resolve crumble like a bridge made of toothpicks.

“I love you, Yo.”  It isn’t as though you haven’t said it before.  But this time, it means something entirely different.  Still, you consider tacking the word “romantically,” onto the end, but then you decide it’s hardly necessary to clarify at this point.  Awkward confessions like this weren’t exactly something “just friends” did.

Shindo shuts his eyes and smiles.  And it isn’t crooked or mischievous or cocky.  

It’s just a smile.  A genuine smile. 

“Damn, I’ve waited a long time to hear you say that.”

An arm creeps up from Shindo’s side, fingertips brushing a trail up your arm and stopping somewhere at the base of your neck.  He nudges at the hand you have tucked in beneath your chin, coaxing it to fall away from your face.  Then he leans in...

And you raise your palm quick, nearly jabbing Shindo’s jaw in your hurry to push him away.

“Not so fast, Romeo.  It’s your turn.”

He grits his teeth, a low, annoyed sound crawling up from the back of his throat.  “Really?”

“Yup.  I don’t kiss my friends, so hurry up and say it already.”

Shindo scoffs and grabs your wrist, forcing your hand down, away.  Somewhere in the time it takes him to close the distance that remains between the pair of you, he grumbles something something “more trouble than you’re worth” along with a rushed “I love you.”

Seeing as you’ve both waited long enough, you figure you can let this one slide.

[popculturebuffet]

Animation Reviews: OK KO: Red Action 3: Grudgement Day

Whelp I said i’d do all three in one day and I MEANT IT. And I may do it again just to stay on schedule in the future, but for now i’m just proud and exausted to have gotten this done. And after a rather “eh it has some things but it’s mostly just there” episode” we’ve come to our last episode and my personal faviorite, Red Action 3: Grudgment day. Also as a quick note I forgot red was actually a major part of “I hope this thing flies” back in my first review, but I probably would’ve left it out as while the plot is her racing with Rad, it’s entirely a rad episode, and like plaza prom which I had to realize wasn’t important, isn’t really necessary.  One last where we are in the series thing. We’re in season 3 and as I mentioned last time, RIGHT before the final episodes and one episode before the three part final arc and unrelated but beautiful epilogue that closes out the series. I didn’t go into my throughts on season 2 but it was good, the ending was just a  really sloppy end to an otherwise good arc that i’ll get to. Season 3 is somehow even better, using it’s shorter run time to tie up loose ends and character arcs left and right and , after trying all series to do it, crossing over with Sonic the hedgehog, another thing for another time, and the final episodes, both the wrap up to the story arc “Let’s fight ot the end” and the wonderful where are they now epilouge “Thank you for watching the show”, are absolutley amazing and how you end a show.. and thankfully endings of this calibur became the trend this year given that same year star vs ended terribly and the bad taste is still in my mouth over that one but that’s a story for another bunch of reviews. The point is as I said the crew used the time wisely and wrapped up most ongoing character and story arcs that needed resolution. And given they spent two episodes on it the team decided to pull the pin on red and enid getting together, and solve one dangling issue the fans likely had all in one go. IT’s grudgment day under the cut. 

We open with Rad and Red arguging and KO looking at them in a way that just screams:”Third mom, Rad, please stop fighting”  Enid comes in and wonders why one of her two best friends and her girlfriend are fighting. She dosen’t use the term but given the kiss at the end of the episode, more on that when we get to it, the general way Enid acts about this and the way Red acts around her this ep.. their a couple at this point.  I do wish they had an episode of them becoming offical, adressing Enid and Elodie.. bucnhes of other things but I concede that the crew was blindsighted by having a smaller season and had they you know NOT BEEN CANCELED FOR NO GOOD GOODAMN RESAON, we might have gotten more renid and more stories and a full on steven universe crossover with both sides. But I digress.. CN’s managment is terrible right now... but that’s not the reason for this article so we’re moving on.  Anyways Enid wants to know why their so pissy when she arrives, and Red .. is in the right this time. Showing her growth while she still got heated with rad.

Rad did at least start it, as she simply came in to take enid jelly surfing and was kind enough to ask him to come along.. and KO implictly given he’s there and their buds now and all that. But when rad insults her again she quits the explaning and goes right back to arguing with him while Enid and KO look on awkwardly. Then Red decides to go into a mocking impression of rad, which is not NEARLY as mean as it could’ve been given the guy has canocially, had a super virus get worse because he refused to get rest something the villian that gave it to him was COUNTING on as part of his evil scheme, was left on the floor in pain over his cocoa being too hot, and once confused his 6-11 year old friend for a doppleganger despite having GIVEN said friend his nametag, though to be fair red’s own best friend also thought he was rad and gave him her number, so everyone was kind of dumb that day but still, the point is she has a LOT of ammo. In contrast Rad STARTS light saying she says words like Cowabunga (she only does once at the end of this ep and has not at any time).. before saying Enid deserves someone better and flinging her surfboard... which Crinkly Wrinkly jumps on and crashes into a wall because of course he does.  Anyways Enid is offended at this and reveals rad’s been acting like a raving dickhead to Red anytime she shows up, which were this season 1 would be on brand but after 3 seasons of becoming a better person and an episode earlier this season where he rejected his dudebro friends once and for all, who by the way: Beefer and Mega Football Baby are the worst and I hate them and i’m greatful that their final apperance is rad realizing what a bad influence they’ve been and telling their asses off for their toxic masculinity. But I will however give OK KO credit as their SUPPOSED to be obnoxious, and the crew still dialed back hteir apperances to almost nothing when they realized it went horribly right, versus Rusty whose still mildly to massively annoying, but has yet to be fixed or removed from LIncoln’s crew, despite the show having a good track record for taking problematic characters and fixing them. And i’ve gotten entirely offf topic because all three of them piss me off so much, so let’s move on.  Where were we.. ah yes, since Rad being a dickhead this consisently is now an exception not the rule, Enid rightfully demands to know why and Rad.. makes up two very petty, weak and obviously pulled out of his butt to try and cover the real reason up reasons for his actions: Red didn’t follow him back on Social Media, which is both a website and what the website is in this universe apparently which Is brilliant, and that she took the last bit of cake at prom... you know after he realized he was screwing it up and fixed it all with a homoerotic dance fight. Plaza Prom is amazing. When pressed because Rad fired his stupid friends, Rad hastily challenges red to a power battle, which I haven’t had to cover yet: Basically a hero can challenge another hero to a fight, usually for respect, to settle a grudge or who took the last bagle, and it’s a socially accepted thing called a power batttle. Really given it seems like KO’s world has not had a hero civil war, and the one time we’ve seen heroes on heroes outside of these things has been when POINT was acting shady as fuck and thus needed to be stopped, it seems like a resonable mesure, especially since most heroes just.. shrug off damage from battles and stuff after a bit.  Unable to convince her girlfriend not to punch her best friend in the face, however much he deserves it, Red gives enid her belt with her time capusles inside, so they don’t go off mid fight and gives her an air kiss. Awww. Enid bemoans the fact this is happening for such dumb reasons when KO relaizes they can just use the belt to fix what once went wrong and end this petty fight before rad dies.  First stop, the Bodega a few months ago, which KO proves both by the fact they have mean beans, which theys topped selling months ago and is one of the single best refrences this show did and it’s done a LOT, and the social media feed being from months and months ago, with Beefer bragging elodie beat him up. Ewwwwww.... I don’t wnat to kjnow what he’s into. Gah gotta scrub my brain. ONe brain scrub later Rad needs only one more follower to 100. I hear when you get 100 this happens. 

Rad asks for a follow for follow from Red, who says she dosen’t have her phone. Enid is sure she’s lying, which she is, and follows Rad for her. Also I love rad’s file photo

Seriously they use this any time they need a picture of him. It’s one of the series best runners and is only topped by homer simpsons various terrible ones and this gravity falls masterpiece as being the best stock photo used for a character.

I will use this any time I have an excuse to and I have no shame about that. Anyways they go back but

As things have only gotten more heated at the power battle, so they try the prom to see if that’ll help.  Cue PROM. Seriously why they never did a second Plaza Prom episode is really beyond me. Lot of potetinal with that concept.. plus I like episodes that put tons of cast, main and supporting, in one event together, ever since venture bros. It’s always a fun time. Anyways, Enid wants to stop a paradox but KO has already interacted with his past self.. which is the KO enid’s talking to and a great gag.  So the two seeing Rad and Red both about to go for the cake decide to pull a destraction: Enid goes over and talks to Red to hold her off and get the cake to rad, while KO does what any sane person would do: Jumps onto Rad’s face while yelling rad I love you, and Rad is clearly more annoyed he’s on his face and this has very obviously happened before. .... I miss this show.  Anyway after giving the explination that she’s a shadow clone to explain why her past self is still up there DJing, she offers to dance and the two have a good cute time until enid gets the cake into rad’s mouth and bolts.. and now we get the thing I hinted at earlier. Red talks to the other Alley Teens about it, and notes that while she dosen’t know Enid she kinda likes her.. then backpedals as the teens make faces but are clearly not fooled by they all look really creepy especially Gregg. 

WHelp I have ny nightamres for tonight. But yeah this is implied to be what got Red to ask her out in the first place. Time travel is weird and inconsietent. This does give me a chance to adress the fact that the alley teens.. sorta stopped beiing a thing eventually. I mean their stillf riends as of the season 2 openoer but red and drupe show up for their own eps or supportingroles while Gregg just kinda vanishes, poor person. That being said given this interaction and how close they were I DO think their still friends; I mean gregg and drupe was confirmed by the flash forward as they visit rad’s cafe, but Red would still be their friend, they just all likely have more stuff to do as they grow older: by the end of season 2 Drupe has a buisness and gregg is probably in college. But I expect Drupe would be Red’s best woman at her wedding. I mean gregg would probably be her best person but still. Anyways they return to the present again and.

Yeah that. Their now battling in cars and Enid decides to cut the bullshit and just ask Rad why he’s pissed at Red, asking Red to pause the fight, which she agrees to.  KO and Enid throw rad int he back of his van tied up and ask him to be honest about why he’s so pissed off. After some dithering he says he lo.. lo.. and instead of saying he loves enid, thank god i’m so sick of love triangles, may they die in a fire, like the episode hinted at it’s a swerve. and unlike a vince russo swerve which ends in A “Buff Bagwell’s mother on a forklift match”.. no really

This is actually a great one: Rad’s fully moved on and I like that, evne if the finale does leave it vauge if those bodegamen at the end are theirs or not, given Rad’s her best friend by the end and she and red would need a surrogate, it’s not a huge stretch to say Rad sperm donored for them and is still a beloved uncle and figure in their lives. Anyways the point is Rad’s real beef is.. suprisingly sweet. Turns out Rad’s still pissed at the whole “Teens humilating, burning and spanking” ko thing and Red posting it online. Which is likely to adress the fact they.. never adressed that and was a good call and a good way to show rad’s growth: he’s not jealous , he’s not mad she’s taking up enid’s time, he’s mad that his best friend is dating someone who beat up his other best friend for just trying to help them then put it online for a cruel laugh. Granted Drupe did the same thing and he not only danced with her but is on good terms with her to this day, but odds are given they see her more and she’s in fact the designer for their mission outfits in season 3, she probably apologized off screen while Red figured KO forgiving her was good enough and just wanted to forget it, running away from things as usual. IT speaks to the diffrence in their personality: Red runs hot is stubborn and takes time to admit she’s wrong, Drupe is very chill and as the series goes on very nice, and probably wanted to get it out of the way asap given she frequents the bodega more often, either in the background or foreground.  Anyways after KO reveals he actually enjoys the video as a treasured memory of when he first met the alley teens, disturbing his friends, seriously this kid needed to remerge with his edgelord side yikes, Enid gives rad a headpat and kudos for being normal and Enid decides to take all of them to go fix this.  Back in the past we’re back at the bullying and before past red can post, present red explains she should stop and after clarfying this isn’t an end of the world situation, not an unfair assumption given you know time traveler, she reveals it’s for someone unimportant.. but whose important to someone they care about, and that what they were doing was a terrible thing they’ll be ashamed of anyway. It’s a good scene that shows how far red’s come: from pushing everyone but two people awaya nd treating most like garbage in a vain attempt to avoid being who she used to be, to accepting it, finding love, and becoming friends with someone she hurt and accepting she hurt him. Rad is also clearly moved seeing that Enid did indeed choose wisely. Back in the present. 

... NO not this time. No instead red and rad are pals, talking about how shredded they are and what not, and while Enid finds it annoying, understandably, she’s glad their not trying to kill each other and dosen’t have to buy Rad’s gravestone or visit her girlfriend in prison. In the alterted timeline, which their also aware of by rad’s comment, time travel just go with it, they were already planning on going jelly surfing and invite enid, and implictly ko along. 

So we end on our main trio and Red jelly surfing, Enid and Red sharing a board before wiping out, laughing about it and then, as if you hadn’t already seen the header but fuck it. 

Yup. The subtext just became.. text. Awww. In case you were wondering, I do like them as a couple, especially after this quintology, as it’s made me realize just hwo much they click and how much chemistry they have, and by this point their just adorable, their drama gone and they can just be happy and gay together. And that’s something cartoons are doing more of and tha’ts wonderful and it’s wonderful that, with all else he had to wrap up, Ian felt confirming the gay couples lasted was extremley important, as two others are shown married in the finale. And we’ll get to the finale more in a bit, but first Rad floats by with an “I support this”, to approving smiles, and enid thinking he’s a weirdo. Also I love the meta text of having a character voiced by the shows creator say that.  KO however is sad that the video is gone but ENid says the memories will last. Rad is understandably not sad about it suggests they make new ones and we end on our quintent taking a selfie together. THE END. Before final thoughts, this wouldn’t however be the last we saw of them. The finale has a bit more as it flashes forwards a bit: the relevant part is one shows Enid take over KO’s mom Carol’s dojo. with red, the two kissing again and alllooking over some supsciously familiar kids who look supsciously like the hue troop, but are probably there great grandparents. While Red dosent’ show up again after that, and could’ve gone back to the future eventuallyf or all we know, I like to think she stayed, and that as noted above, she and enid had kids together with Rad’s help given the similar looking kids we see running the bodega... which admitely was kept vauge by Ian on purpose so fans could draw their own inclusion so that’s the one i’m drawing; rad is still there for them aand still family to them, but isn’t with Enid in a romantic sense, if you think diffrently that’s fine. But My ending is these two crazy kids worked it out and are now happy ever after. and that ain’t bad.  Final Thoughts: A fantastic episode with TONS of great jokes, call backs and a great resolution , showing off Rad and Red’s character development greatly,f ixing a possible plot hole and giving fans the kiss that many of them had wanted for some time. ONe of the series best I can’t gush enough about it but I shall stop for your benifit. If you liked this review, subscribe for more, check out the backlog via the convient pages on my blog, and shoot me an ask, wether it’s to suggst an episode or just to ask me about my opinons or yell about them or ask what I think about certain shows or what i’ll cover. And until next time, later days. 

[neverwatchedonepiece]

645-647: "Destruction Cannon Blasts! Lucy in Trouble!", "The Legendary Pirate! Don Chinjao!" and "Light and Darkness! The Shadow Behind Dressrosa!"

There is something rotten in the state of Dressrosa right now. Doflamingo has some seriously shady shenanigans on the go. Turning humans into toys? Letting them live alongside relatives who - it appears - have their memories wiped? Tossing them for scrap if they show any signs of rebellion? Yeah, this whole situation is totally messed up. Now I get why a Resistance is mounting against the Donquixote Family. 

I watched three episodes because I thought I might see the end of the Block C battles. No such luck, but Luffy vs Don Chinjao has been fun so far. 

Still, that freaky Toy Human transformation reveal was totally worth it. 

(Will catch up on replies this week too! It’s been a weirdly busy couple of weeks but next week won’t be as rammed. :D)

Electric Fist Bump

I am still not certain that Brutal Bull is, in fact, going to recover. Let’s just pretend he will. At least Luffy gently carried him to safety and thanked him for fighting with him. ;_;

A random called Ideo (way too much eyeliner, Shoulders McGee) finished the job by punching Hajrudin out the ring. After Ideo’s brag-fest, I thought Luffy would be the one to kick his ass too, but it was funnier than that.

A random competitor called Jean the Bounty Hunter (no relation to Dog) had seen through Luffy’s disguise. He knocked off Luffy’s helmet and slashed his beard. Instead of giving up his disguise, Luffy chased him (lmao) to get his helmet back. 

Once exposing Luffy, didn’t work, Jean picked up all the weapons dropped by competitors who fell to Don Chinjao’s conqueror’s haki. Jean seriously thought he could defeat Luffy by carrying around a giant blade ball. Okay, mate.

Jean, at least, was allowed a quick shit-talk. He’d made so much money recapturing all the criminals Luffy set free from Impel Down. Now, Jean was aiming to snare Buggy (I guess he doesn’t read the papers), Crocodile, Jimbei, Ivankov and Shiryu (good luck with those names, mate).

Meanwhile, Luffy was standing there, reminiscing over all the old names like it was old times. “I wonder how Jimbei and Iva are doing?”

Jean got mad, threw his dumb sword ball and... it did not go to plan.

Luffy dodged.

Instead, a rather large and intimidating man absorbed all the swords.

Staring down Don Chinjao was too much for poor Jean. He was so scared, he made moe eyes before Don Chinjao took him out. (Good luck chasing after Crocodile from your new job on Doflamingo’s Factory Assembly Line!)

The fight between Luffy and Don Chinjao was actually fun to watch. The moment when they both punched out Sai and Ideo “Get outta the way!” was funny. And the Conqueror’s Haki clash was stylish (still love that blue filter), powerful (that Whitebeard soundtrack) and also pretty interesting.

Diamante watched the whole thing from his private booth. He used it as a teaching moment for Bellamy. “See, that is what it takes to be a king.” Don Chinjao sort of backed this up later when he said to Luffy that loads of people in the New World could use Conqueror’s Haki. “Only battling it out amongst themselves will reveal who the Pirate King will be. A battle of conquerors. That’s what’ll decide.”

I thought Conqueror’s Haki was a much rarer type. Maybe it still is, but that all the big shots are now concentrated in a smaller area, so there’s more chance you’ll meet someone with it. I know Shanks has it, I know Whitebeard had it, but I’m wondering if Big Mom and Kaidou also have it? (The jury’s out on Teach. Is he too much of a coward, or will he awaken it too? Who knows?)

Don Chinjao also kept veering between wailing with rage and attacking with rage at what Garp had taken from him (treasure and strength, apparently).  He also kept demanding Luffy tell him what Garp had done. Luffy was like, “No, you walnut. I have no idea. How many times must I repeat myself?”

Luffy didn’t know whether Don Chinjao wanted to be sad or mad. Maybe Luffy should set himself up as a therapist because I think it’s a bit of both.

At the moment, Don Chinjao has transformed into an Upside Down Tornado of Large Man, so we’ll see how that pans out in the coming episodes.

Oh, and by the way, Bobby Funk wore his brother like a jacket during the fight. Don’t ask. It was deeply, hilariously weird and I’m glad they got their asses kicked because I felt wrong watching that.

He’s Not an Idiot. He’s Directionally Disadvantaged

On the way to Flower Field, Wicka was astonished to discover Zoro is the opposite of a homing pigeon. They yelled at each other the entire time. Wicka because Zoro veered away from Flower Field yet again, and Zoro because Wicka “sucked at leading the way.” Meanwhile, the concerned residents of Dressrosa wondered why the strange man was yelling at himself.

Wicka kept punching Zoro for not going the right way. Because the Tontatta people make up for their lack of stature with super strength, I actually cheered when Zoro had enough of Wicka smacking him. He set her down in a plant pot, was like, “I have friends I care about too. Stop complaining or ask some damned cat to carry you,” then walked off.

Damn straight, Zoro. Don’t put up with that crap.

Luckily for Wicka, Zoro has no sense of direction. He circled straight round, which gave her the opportunity to apologise.

I guess it’s for the best. Otherwise Zoro would end up stuck on Dressrosa forever. Or at least until Sanji turned up.

And speaking of Sanji, he has teamed up with Kinemon again. They are currently lurking outside the Colosseum. They have spotted something ominous. Lots of Marines gathered outside, including new Vice-Admiral Bastille, waiting to swoop and arrest any unsuspecting Block A and Block B fighters leaving the arena.

I laughed at Kinemon’s weird cognitive dissonance. “Yeah, well criminals should be caught!”

Sanji would not have it. He smacked Kinemon and was like, “You are working with pirates.” Lmao, Kinemon. Old habits die hard, I guess.

At least Sanji has returned to the Sanji I like best: sneaking about, trying to solve problems. He knows Luffy needs to know about the Marines lurking outside, but how to tell him?

Plus, what’s happened to all the Block A and Block B competitors who lost their fight? Vice-Admiral Bastille is on to something. None of them have left the Colosseum. Not a single one. That is strange. Something weird, and possibly sinister, is going on here. (I wonder if they’re being turned into toys?)

This is Why I Like Nami

This was only a short scene but I loved it.

In the last couple of episodes, I assumed Nami, Brook, Chopper and Momo were retreating to regroup with a master plan to win back Sunny.

Nope. As if they would ever leave Sunny in the hands of an enemy. What was I thinking?

Even though Nami sees herself as weak compared to the DF eaters and haki users of the crew, she is not helpless. One, she is smart, and two, Nami has freaking weather controlling powers! Nami used both of those qualities to her advantage. Chopper and Brook were a distraction. While Giolla’s attention was on them, Nami readied some thunder balls.

BOOM! Direct hit on Giolla’s submarine. Now, as a DF user, she has no means to return to Dressrosa and all her goons were smoked by thunderbolt.

Your move, Giolla! :D

How About Hide-and-Seek?

Like, with a four day head start? 

No?

I guess Law must be content with running like hell from the two Absolute Monsters chasing him. Fujitora was not making it easy. Every time he sheathes that sword, a jet of purple (no idea what it is. Let’s call it pure purple) rocketed into the clouds and, hello meteor shower!

Luckily, Law can Room those and slice them like bread rolls, but Doflamingo’s bullet strings were another matter. Law scarpered, dodged, hid and tried to call Nami. To no avail. Why wasn’t she picking up?

“I know what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to buy time,” Doflamingo said. “And I’m not gonna let you have it your way.”

No Burger King for you, Law.

Poor, beleaguered Law screeched to a halt when he realised that, somehow, Fujitora had overtaken him. My new favourite Admiral was sitting on a rock, as if he’d been politely waiting for Law to show for ages. Then it was meteor time.

Even Doflamingo was like, “Wow, you have no mercy.”

Fujitora just said, “I’m all thumbs.”

Lmao, mate. Yeah, those extreme overkill meteors? I’m just clumsy. Nah, no one believes you, Fujitora. You love smashing felons. Admit it.

Meanwhile, deep underground, Usopp was beginning to regret feigning descent from Noland. The ominous, earth-shattering rumbles from Fujitora’s onslaught were passed off as “just Usopp’s amazing haki!”

When he realised the Tontatta people kept going on about the Donquixote Family, he consulted Robin. “Um, what kind of relationship do they have with Doflamingo exactly?” he asked.

“Well, they’re serious about fighting him,” Robin replied.

Usopp had an uh-oh moment. He drew Leo (the battle hype man) aside and asked why they wanted to fight Doflaming. That’s my Usopp! Asking all the right plot questions.

Apparently, the Tontatta want to rescue five hundred friends forced to work at the “shady factory”. Moreover, Doflamingo also holds their “obnoxious, selfish, mean, moody and short-tempered Princess Mancherie” there too.

Good sell, Leo. Good sell.

“Um, she sounds horrible,” Usopp said (lmao).

“Yup!” Leo cheerfully agreed. But then he added, rather sweetly, “But she’s one of us too. Noland would save everyone who’s in trouble, right?”

Usopp looked a bit ill at that point. He did not have to answer that question, as Flapper, another Tontatta kid, hoofed it into frame. Apparently, the Donquixote Family at the palace were on the move. Rumour had it they were probably moving to the Colosseum basement. And why were they moving there?

Under the Colosseum is only where the Shady Factory is hidden! :D

I thought the Factory would be in Green Bit. This is even better! Now I’m very suspicious about all the defeated fighters. They are prime for processing. At least I got one thing right about people being forced to work at the Factory (though it wasn’t related to stealing stuff). 

This Really Makes You Re-Think Toy Story

I knew it! I knew there was something weird with the toys. At first I just went with it because, well, One Piece, right? There are giants, sentient fruit-eating swords, dudes stuck in barrels. Anything goes, right? I mean, who can explain the wonder of Gekko Moria?

Turns out this does not extend to talking toys. Talking toys are not normal. Unless they’ve been invented by Vegapunk, as Franky rightly thought.

Nope. These toys are not the work of Vegapunk.

They are the product of a twisted Devil Fruit user under the employ of Doflamingo, who transforms humans into toys.

Why? I have no idea.

But the reason has got to be some dodgy kind of punishment for something. 

There was a creepy scene when a toy desperately tried to convince the woman who was once his girlfriend that he was a human, that they once lived together, were once happy together. The trouble was, his girlfriend could not remember him! She looked at him in disgust, said, “This toy has human syndrome!” and he was dragged off to a ominous looking building with the word SCRAP emblazoned above a forbidding door.

It seems a lot of the toys remember being human. Sol spoke to a guy called Milo, who is currently masquerading as Onepoko-chan the dog. Turns out the boy who plays with him is actually his son, and the boy’s mother is his wife.

What. The. Actual?

Sol asked the boy if he had a dad. Nope, was the answer. What about the wife? Had she ever been married? Don’t be silly.

Something really, really weird is going on here. And I never even mentioned the midnight curfew. Anyone who is caught outside after then is arrested (and probably turned into a toy). Toys and humans are allowed to hang about during the day, but at night? They are segregated. Toys live in toy homes. Humans remain in their homes.

This is totally weird and cool and I cannot wait to see where this goes.

Every time questions are answered in Dressrosa, another ten rise to take their place. :D

[jacereviews]

Review: Umineko no Naku Koro ni

Visual Novel (Sound Novel) (PC) Also know as: Umineko: When They Cry - Question Arcs, When They Cry 3 Consumed in English

Welcome to Rokkenjima. The third entry in the acclaimed When They Cry series, Umineko, brings a fresh new start to the series. New story, new characters, and so on. It both rode on the coattails of, and had to fight it’s way out of the shadow of its predecessor, Higurashi. This presented a massive challenge, but did Umineko succeed? Let’s rock.

PLOT: October 4, 1986. The annual family conference of the Ushiromiya family has come once again. Being an immensely prosperous business family, talks quickly become of money, including the inheritance of the aging family head. The head of the family’s 4 children and their families gather at the family head’s mansion on Rokkenjima island and debates begin. Our protagonist, Battler, and the other grandchildren are spared from these debates and find themselves in front of a portrait in the mansion. This portrait is of the legendary witch Beatrice, who the family head Kinzo claims gave him a fortune of gold which he built his success on. Attached to this portrait is a mysterious epitaph which none of the family have managed to solve. When a typhoon blows in, trapping the family, their servants, and one attending physician on the island, strange events begin to occur. A letter is delivered to the dinner table signed by the “family alchemist” Beatrice. Beatrice’s letter claims that she had a contract with Kinzo, and this contract states that all possessions of the Ushiromiya family go to her unless someone can solve her epitaph. When a series of mysterious deaths begin to happen on the island, the family is forced to take the letter seriously. At this intersection between reality and magic, can the culprit be found, or will it be accepted as the powers of a witch? Umineko is a hard as nails mystery with a lot of detail to it. For those familiar with Higurashi, Umineko does adopt the same format over it’s four episodes. The unique trait of Umineko is its witches, rather than simply solving a murder to catch the murderer, it’s also a battle to prove it isn’t the magic of a witch- which sounds a simpler task than it is. Due to the incredibly plot heavy nature of the VN, I can’t go into much more detail for spoiler reasons. There is a lot going on here, a drastic amount has changed between episodes 1 and 4. Umineko is also incredibly long, and not necessarily for all the right reasons. The pacing isn’t usually very tight, and you occasionally run into bumpy dragged out pieces or retreaded ground, but the high points are definitely worth the lows. Umineko also isn’t content to be just a mystery, in its over 50 hour playtime it delves into comedy, action, romance, tragedy, and so on. Despite some unique diversions however, at the end of the day it goes back to the mystery and battle against the witch. While not conclusive, Umineko has a strong ending that sets up for its sequel, Umineko Chiru.

8/10, a grand mystery unfolds with some bumps here and there.

CHARACTERS: Umineko has a lot of characters. We open the story with 18 characters before adding in any supposed witches.The good news is all of them are very distinct in both appearance and personality. The VN uses its long run time to spend a good amount of time on most of the characters. The human cast ranges from being able to be uniquely described to in depth enough for a full character study. Battler himself is a rather distinct and likeable character, his character also well develops over the course of the VN. The other grandchildren (Battler’s cousins) Jessica, George, and Maria get a good amount of spotlight as we see into their lives. Maria in particular has a lot going on. The servants of similar age to the grandchildren, Shannon and Kanon, were characters I initially disliked but grew to rather like by the end. They both come off as initially simple but have a significant amount more going on. The head of the family Kinzo comes off as more mystery than character, we see little of him but feel the waves of his actions. Kinzo’s children all get a good amount of spotlight. Battler’s parents don’t get much screen time, but the time they get is enough for them to make some powerful impressions. Jessica’s parents I found to be the weakest of the family character-wise, but are still likeable in their own right. George’s parents are both immediately enjoyable and I found them to get more interesting over time. Lastly Maria’s mother Rosa has a lot going on and is quite interesting to dig into over the series. As other characters go, the rest of the servants and doctor Nanjo, they aren’t particularly strong characters but have a significant enough presence and a good amount of likeability. I feel as the series goes on we’ll get to dig more and more into these characters and I have high expectations and a belief they’ll be met. As for “the witch, Beatrice”, we’re left with quite the interesting puzzle.

9/10, there’s a lot of characters, a lot of character, and a lot of intrigue. TFW no Battler bf.

VISUALS: When They Cry visuals will always be an interesting discussion, as there are multiple versions.

The steam version of Umineko comes with the original art (pictured above left) and the Pachinko art (picture below). The Alchemist art can be modded in, however as it isn’t natural to this version I won’t be discussing it.

The backgrounds are the same in both new and old arts, all that changes is the sprites. I ended up going with the original art, though I did look at the Pachinko quite a bit. The original art is very rough, as is the nature with many a doujin games, but has a lot of charm in my opinion. It manages to give every character a unique feel whilst feeling consistent to itself. The original art is also very expressive, with each pose and look containing a lot of emotion. The Pachinko art can clash with itself stylistically, is less expressive, feels like it tries to be way more sexual than is Umineko’s nature (obnoxious boob inflation), and is ultimately incomplete, as some minor characters in minor scenes don’t have pachinko sprites so even in new art mod you will get original art. Umineko art is at best rough, but I quickly found myself growing to like it. As other visual pieces go, I found the stylized photo backgrounds quite enjoyable. They can very easily convey an air of mystery or horror (hence why I liked them so much in Higurashi), however that can be a personal preference thing. As other visuals go (the portrait of the witch, some designs of magic circles, and some unique set pieces) I found them to be quite enjoyable. The transition pieces were also quite nice. However nothing about the visuals felt like a home run or epitome of good visuals. A lot of the designs had some fantastic ideas in them, but ultimately artist ability, time, and budget were limiting factors. A thing I will say about the visual presentation however, is it uses the format of the VN with text colors as inherently meaningful, a minor detail but a positive one.

7/10, When They Cry will always be divisive visually, but I like it.

SOUND: Umineko might have one of my favorite OSTs, it is loaded with killer original compositions. The opening song is one of my all time favorite opening songs, I could almost listen to it on repeat. The soundtrack is loaded with a variety of styles, from very traditional background pieces to mysterious tracks of magic to energetic battle tracks. A lot of my personal favorites are the more electronic-y tracks loaded with energy, pumping you up to solve the truth and deny the witch. However fans of more traditional mood pieces will also be quite satisfied. It’s also good about working different audio queues into different songs to represent songs, there’s a few types of sound that get inherently associated with magic. It also does a thing I like of making multiple renditions of a song, each version being distinct for its own reason. It feels like it’s building on itself, and each version carries the emotional value of the prior song but adding more to it. In other pieces, there’s no voice acting without the Alchemist sprite mod, so I won’t be discussing that. Sound effect wise, I adore Umineko. A lot of the sound effects just feel so right. Ahahaha.wav is one of my all time favorite sound effects, and the bleeding “gloop” rubs me the right way.

9/10, I can fault this only with “not being absolute perfection.” That award goes to Persona 3.

FINAL SCORE: 8/10

In all honesty I was surprised that Umineko meted out at an 8. If I were to include a super-subjective enjoyment category that’d get a 10. Umineko is not perfect, but it’s damn interesting. A small part of my brain keeps telling me to just google the answers because I’m so curious as to how it’ll all come together. I absolutely adore most things about Umineko. I implore more people to give When They Cry a chance, it’s such a fascinating series and is such a good mystery.

[mimiplaysgames]

Strength to Protect the Things That Matter (Ch. 27)

Pairing: Terra/Aqua Rating: T Word Count: 2,457

Summary: Terra has prayed for years. He wanted relief from having no one to talk to in the dark, except with the monster of a man who stole his life. One day, when two boys get a lead, he gets his chance - less than a week - to set things right before he loses everything again.

AO3        FFnet

A/N: Writing this Coco flashback was painful for me, in the least. I watched the movie in theaters about a month after my abuelo (my grandfather) passed away, and the song “Remember Me” to this day really has a strong effect on me. Which probably bled into this, hahaha. Either way, this is a short transitionary chapter meant to connect the previous one into the next one (the last one!). But I also needed to plant a couple of concepts that will be heavily featured in the sequel, so this chapter I think is just as important as the others. ^^

Darkness

The remembered were protected.

Miguel’s family really applied this testament into their memorial shrine, continuing to breathe life and warmth into the dead. The ofrenda was a tower of lovingly framed photos of former members, recently adding his great-grandmother, Coco. Garnished with mounds of radiant marigold flowers and the comforting glow of multiple candles, Héctor’s photo stood at the top. In remembering the dead, they were forever safe from the unknown.

The shrine stood in a wooden and stone room of Miguel’s house that was reserved specifically for this purpose. Terra and Aqua observed to pay their respects. She cradled the neon green stuffed cockatoo in her arms – a gift for Ventus that survived from the other side. The sun beat through the window, and even then its shine paled in comparison to the candlelight.

“It’s never going to be the same for him,” she said quietly, referencing Coco’s recent passing. “But at least he still has a home here.”

These words had weight to them. She lost her parents at such a young age, only to adjust to a new home with him and Eraqus. She never said that she regretted meeting them, or living in the Land of Departure, but it sometimes made him wonder... She cried in those early days, but life had a habit of changing even the most consistent expectations. Aqua never cried for anything anymore, and it spoke of how impressive she really was, having such a backbone. Terra never understood what losing a home felt like either, since the only life he knew before his adoption was the orphanage. He probably would have been too vulnerable in her shoes.

After everything they had seen the night prior, maybe there was a comfort in knowing that those who left her were still close by somewhere.

“I wonder if the Master will eventually meet them,” she said about her parents. “And they’ll all be waiting for me until it’s my turn.”

Terra assumed it had to be empowering. The orphanage organizers told all the children that someone special out there was waiting for the day to finally meet them. That always felt like a faraway dream, a one-in-a-lifetime chance to meet some stranger that could possibly accept them. Terra was incredibly lucky in meeting Eraqus. He didn’t know what happened to the other children after he left. 

Aqua was just as fortunate. She already had people who wanted her enough to wait.

But something else bothered him about this statement. She knew how to survive such a loss, when he never experienced it. How weak would he be when it finally happened?

“The Master is not that old,” he said. “He still has some good years on him left.”

She turned her head to gaze up at him. It was like she read his mind. “I’ll wait for you, too, of course.”

What a strange comment. “What are you talking about?” They began to turn away from the ofrenda to bask in the sun outside.

“Well, I’d want you and Ven to be with me when I die,” she said, hugging the cockatoo tightly. “You guys can remember me and I’ll wait for you to cross to the other side.”

Terra laughed nervously, stopping his breath halfway. “That’s so morbid, Aqua.”

“Is it weird that my worst fear is to live a life without the two of you?”

They walked outside Miguel’s house, where a rubble of marigold petals and the remains of firecrackers, toys, and ripped decorations littered the dirt roads of his neighborhood.

“I’ll make sure to keep Ven and I super healthy so you can go first,” Terra said, but only half-serious.

She hit him across the arm, smiling. “I mean it, though.”

How she could smile over such a subject, he didn’t know. The thought of her leaving him left a hollow, painful twist in his chest, and if he didn’t know any better, he was moved enough to shed a tear. He wanted to be the strongest Keyblade Master in existence, and yet she beat him at it every time. From all the conversations they had about her parents, he couldn’t figure out where she got it from. A part of him wanted to absorb some essence of her, or stay close enough at all times to see if she would magically rub off on him. Or have her teach him her ways. She normally dismissed his insecurities in an effort to make him feel better. But he never did.

All he knew was that there was no way he could be a better person without her.

“Aqua,” he started, stopping on his tracks. “I want to tell you something.”

“Shoot.”

He was stuck again, too scared to do the impulsive. The Land of the Dead was truly the perfect place, with all the colorful lights, the entertainment, the fireworks. He held her so closely, dancing slowly like they were to beautiful music. But now, a group of obnoxiously loud children kicked a ball around on a dirt road close by in the Land of the Living, a burst of dust shooting upward with every step they took. It was so shabby in comparison, the worst place to offer a romantic confession. He wished he could kick himself for ruining the perfect moment.

“We should come back next year,” he said, scratching the back of his head in an effort to hide his shakes. “When the gate opens up again, I mean.”

“You mean go back to the Land of the Dead?” The gateway to the other side only opened once a year, during Día de los Muertos.

“Yeah.”

“That would be nice,” she nodded. “I did have a lot of fun.”

A year was definitely enough time for him to finally muster the courage to say it. To practice it so that it was perfect, or at least let it come out a little easier. They’d be Masters by then, and may be constantly consumed in their own missions. A getaway where they could be alone together would be needed. In the perfect occasion. Plenty of time, indeed.

“It’s settled then,” he said, perhaps too enthusiastically.

A guitar played in the distance, Miguel’s doing. The song was familiar, the most popular song that existed in this world. It was a good-bye lullaby, telling the story of a forceful separation between two people who loved each other. Through their shared memories were they to be reunited one day.

The truth was Terra was certain he would remember her and their childhood together. After becoming Keyblade Master, he would remember exactly what she looked like, and seeing her again would be something to hold onto anytime he had to work on his own, maybe for weeks at a time. He wondered if she, too, would remember it the way he did. If she was going to miss him as much.

“I’ll race you back home,” he said, needing a distraction.

She rolled her eyes. “Of course, everything has to be competitive with you.”

He nudged her shoulder. “Speak for yourself. You’re worse than I am.”

“How so?” She stepped up to him, her lips inches too close. It was an effort to size him up, as if she was ready to fight.

He reminded himself that he was used to this, and could easily keep cool about it.

“If I fell down the stairs, you’d throw yourself after me just to see who got more injuries,” he said.

“You’re exaggerating.”

He took a moment to stare hard, as if to pretend he was sizing her up, too. But it was really an excuse to look hard into her eyes.

“Last one there has to cut weeds for the rest of the year,” he called out, running ahead of her.

She ran after, berating him for cheating, for not giving her any rules to define this game, and for playing dirty.

It is cold. It’s not like he expected anything, stepping through the Door to Darkness. He supposes “cold” is a good word to describe it.

Behind him is nothing but the shadow which served as the entrance to this place. Ahead of him is a flooded tunnel. From the cistern left behind in the Realm of Light, he emerges into an underground passageway, carved out of brick and stone with a ceiling so low he nearly has to hunch his shoulders. There is a primitive sort of approach to the design and layout of the curved walls that meet right over his head, almost as if the darkness preserved a mimicry of an ancient underground system that used to exist before it has been renovated into a sophisticated maze of water management.

He can only see so far ahead. It’s dim, but not terribly dark. What’s worse is the loneliness. There is a pulsing vibration in the air, as if his own heartbeat is the loudest sound. The water is still, only ebbing in reaction to his steps. His ankles are submerged, and the ripples he makes drift outward in their waves, only to disappear when they get too far away from him. He keeps a hand on the wall to make sure he continues the journey upright.

So far, it is just a narrow, straight tunnel. Until he reaches his first junction. It creates a T-shape with the tunnel he just came from, with only two directions to choose from. A fifty percent chance to get it wrong, and no map.

But it doesn’t matter. Mickey has told him that the Realm of Darkness is sentient, that it will react to his thoughts and emotions. It will try to throw him off. If that’s the case - if he focuses on finding her, it therefore doesn’t matter what this poor excuse of a trick throws at him. He’ll get to her anyway. 

He chooses left.

The ground underneath him begins to slope, and the water level reaches his pelvis. Cold, definitely. It is freezing, his muscles tensing up so much that his body hurts from the shivering. A headache shoots through his forehead, his breathing getting heavy just to keep up with how furiously he is rubbing his arms together, his head nearly touching the ceiling.

But he keeps going. Until the next junction arrives. Four ways. A red light flickers somewhere, like a remnant of a lightning flash, revealing that each direction also breaks into more junctions.

Not just more junctions, but ones that curve back and forth – architecture so strange that it can’t have been built by a human.

Terra leans his shoulder against the wall next to him. He’s shivering so much that he’s barely moaning from the pain of it, his legs losing their feeling. He wonders if he should turn back and choose the right passage this time.

“No,” he says out loud, his jaw so tense that his tongue is pushed right into the roof of his mouth. He closes his eyes. “None of this is real.”

It’s the Realm toying with him. The junctions aren’t real. The cold isn’t real, nor is the pain, or the headache.

Eyes open. He is still in the same place.

Breathing hard and erratically, Terra decides to head forward, following a short passage until five more open up. A red subtle lightning flash, and he swears that the shadows shift until the tunnels change. Does he now have six paths to choose? Or are there still five?

“I’ll get to her,” he says out loud. He wills himself to believe it. He knows he will see her.

It’s so cold that he’s tired, now.

“I’ll find her!” he yells, his voice bouncing back and forth from the walls. Another lightning flash – or at least that’s what it seems at first. It’s more like a heartbeat, now that he’s heard it several times.

He stands in the water, looking between his options. Wondering if his theory is true. If he will be stuck in a maze that keeps changing its routes. He knows that it’s trying to keep him and Aqua apart, and he doesn’t want to give it the satisfaction of being true.

A white light.

A white dolphin, to be more specific, swimming in the water in a tunnel just ahead of him, heading right, until it disappears behind a wall.

No questioning this. He attempts to run, wading through the water as fast as he can to catch up. The ground underneath him slopes to the right, as if it is pivoting on itself. The dolphin swims ahead of him, turning left.

The tunnel continues to pivot, and he slips into the water because it is sloping too much, leaving his hair wet and his teeth chattering.

“Wait,” he says meekly, his voice trembling. Just keep walking. Just keep moving forward. Catch up to the dolphin and all will be good. He will find her.

He turns left to follow it. And it swims. Forward and forward and forward. The maze must be over. It’s giving in to his determination, straightening itself out so that it’s a smooth pathway to wherever she is.

The dolphin slowly fades away into darkness, the tunnel continuing to stretch far beyond. It must have done its job.

Terra continues to run, and he steps into nothing. The ground ends like it stops at a cliff, and he dives into the water. He struggles but reaches the surface, and takes a large, long gasp of air. But he… falls right back into the water.

It’s not as though he’s being pulled into it, a blackness that keeps going deeper and deeper. He is merely sinking, as if he is floating down. He flails his arms and legs around, but he makes no progress for himself. Holding his breath is hurting too much. The surface is gone.

The heartbeat of this world gives a red glow somewhere under this black water. Two large, yellow eyes, almost bigger than him, flow through the area. A swimming Heartless, perhaps. The heart beats again, a red glow illuminating the silhouette of this tremendous fish, with a lower jaw that juts out, sharp teeth elongated like picket fences, and tall fins that make it look like its spine is hunched over. Big enough to swallow him whole. The heart beats, and there is the silhouette. When it is silent, and all he can see are the eyes, watching him.

Trying to swim will not work. But he cannot die here.

Naminé drowning in his dream, accepting her fate. A memory of a dream he had when he first came here. And she speaks to him.

Just breathe, Terra.

He inhales, even though it’s terrifying to swallow so much water.

[emperorsfoot]

YJ Fic #7: “Rebound”

Originally posted on FanFiction.Net on 6/2/12

This one is actually really shitty, so I’m glad I’m posting it during a time when there’s not a lot of traffic. Gives me the opportunity to bury it under other posts before anyone has the chance to see it. 

Anyway...

This was originally written before Lagoon Boy got decent screen time and spoken lines. Back when he was still more of a background prop for M’gaan to use to make Superboy uncomfortable. 

I mention this because Lagoon Boy is super out of character in this fic. 

But I hope you manage to enjoy it anyway. 

Summary: “His Angel-fish always seems to moan just a bit louder when Superboy's in the room. -ONESHOT-”

Rebound:

She's my wonderful beloved Angle-fish. M'gann… She sweet-tempered and good-natured. She loves her brother and cares for the Team almost like she's everyone's big sister. But she doesn't kiss like a sister. Oh, no. Not. At. All.

Her kisses the measured, passionate but controlled sort of kisses that leave a man wanting more when she pulls away. …So much more. They're the kind of kisses that almost compel me to beg for more. To get on my knees, press my fins together and plead 'Please, Angel-fish, I need you!' And then when she moans! Neptune's Beard! When she moans… It just makes me want to pick her up, carry her to a room –hers or mine, it doesn't matter- and do all sorts of less-than-honorable things with her.

And yet… I cannot help but notice that she always seems to kiss a bit harder or moan a little bit louder whenever the Superboy is around. –Almost as if she were trying to put on a little show for him.

I asked her about it once, very early in our relationship, in fact. But she denied it. Why would she be exaggerating her feelings for me whenever he was around? She had asked. I was the one she was with. When we are together, it's just about us. Other people are immaterial. This was exactly what I wanted to hear, so I believed her instantly and didn't give it any more thought.

Then I learned that she and the Superboy used to be lovers before I joined the Team.

It was her brother whom told me. –Let it slip was more like it. As if her dating history were supposed to be kept secret.

I wanted to try and get to know the boy better, Garfield Logan, because above all others on the Team (myself included) my Angel-fished cared for him the most. So I endeavored to ingratiate myself to the boy. I admit that I found –and still fined- the overly energetic shape-shifter to be a tad obnoxious. But we both love his sister, and so we both agreed to spend the day together.

It was as we were walking along the beach, the waves lapping at my feet, his zigzagging all over the place changing into crabs, and gulls, and all manner of beach and tide-pool dwelling creatures, that the slip occurred. He was telling old stories about the Team –the first Team. Most of the names were just that, names. I had never met Kid Flash or Artemis and so could not put faces to their names. Kaldu'ram I though I had known very well and still did not believe what Nightwing had told us about him.

I paused in my trail of thought as the boy's last few words sunk into my skull. Lifting my head I did a double take. "What did you say?"

"KF and Arty walked onto the bio-ship and found Conner and sis making out in the captain's chair." Gar repeated in a bit of an irritated huff. Children tended to act that way when they thought the adults around them weren't paying attention.

Then I asked the stupidest question that ever escaped my lips since finishing puberty. "Why was Angel-fish kissing Superboy?"

The little shape-shifter's hands went to his mouth in a near perfect imitation of the 'Speak no Evil' monkey and his eyes went wide. He didn't say it out loud, but I could clearly read it in his face. If M'gann hadn't already told me, then she hadn't wanted me to know and Gar had just let slip something that was supposed to be a secret.

Suddenly, it all made so much more sense. She did kiss harder when he was around. She did moan louder when he was in earshot. She was putting on a show for him. The realization left me with the question of 'Why?' screaming through my mind. Followed closely by, 'Why did she lie when I confronted her about it weeks ago?'

I pondered those two questions the entire rest of the day and when we came back in, I confronted her about it directly. Two simple and pointed questions that summarized my feelings completely.

"Why didn't you tell me you and Superboy dated? Are you just using me to make him jealous?"

There then ensued the first fight we ever had. It was also the longest fight we've had to date.

She called be nosy and over-bearing with no right to pry into her past. I said she was being secretive and that made everything she did suspect. We both said things we regretted. Feelings were hurt. Apologies were made. Things were explained. Some things were understood. Other things I think I will forever be confused about. Most things were forgiven.

But, after much fishing on my part, M'gann finally confessed that –at the onset of our relationship- she had been using be to get back at Superboy. He had been the one to break-up with her and she harbored some resentment towards him because of it. (I did not ask why he broke-up with her.) I told her that she was still my Angel-fish and I loved her, but I refused to be a pawn in her romantic battles with an ex-lover.

M'gann nodded gravely and admitted that I was just supposed to be a fun little fling. She hadn't meant to develop true feelings for me, it just happened. She hadn't tried to use me against the Superboy in several weeks –at least not to her conscious knowledge. That was good enough for me. –At least, for the time being.

Something about the situation still continued to bother me, though.

It wasn't any one thing I could put my finger on. It was just an abstract feeling. A slight chill in the room while we would be cuddling on the couch watching TV. A tingling on the back of my neck or even down my spine when we would sometimes kiss. …And then a punch that landed perhaps a bit harder than was necessary for a simple training exercise. I massaged my throbbing jaw and gazed up at my sparring partner for that session as if seeing him for the first time.

I had come to terms with and made peace with the fact that M'gann had first been trying to use me against him when we stared dating. It had been a conversation spoken between she and I. A peace made between she and I. But there was a third factor that I hadn't considered. A third person I had completely failed to acknowledge.

I waved off the hand Superboy offered to help me up and climbed to my feet myself. Only aster I was once again on an eye level with him did I realize he probably took it as a snub. I should have let him help me, since he knew he had hit harder than he should have (and with his strength, that was not a habit he could allow himself to have). I did not exactly avert my eyes from his, but I did realize for the first time just how unearthly a shade of blue they were and for the first time since joining the Team, I was intimidated.

"Do you know what you did wrong?" He asked.

I looked back up at him startled. Were we really gonna have this confrontation right here?

"You extended your stance to far." Continued the Superboy. "It left your whole left side open. If this had been a real fight, you'd be dead."

Right. Training.

I relaxed and rejoined the others on the edge of the ring.

"Cass! Front and center!" He continued with the lesson as if nothing had happened, and perhaps from his end nothing had.

It was entirely possible that that punch had simply been a miscalculation on his part and not a passive-aggressive attempt to bate me into doing or saying something I'd regret. Come to think of it, from the little I knew of him, Superboy wasn't really a subtle guy. He didn't do 'subtext'. If he had a problem with you, he would state it outright. Not throw sucker-punches when he could get away with it and then sit and seethe when he couldn't.

Still, I resolved to confront him all the same.

Not about the punch. I didn't really care about it that much. But about M'gann. I felt there were words that needed to be spoken between us. It felt almost like one of those strange 'Bro Code' things that is often talked about here on the surface. Truth be told, I'm not to familiar with the concept. I just wanted to make sure one of the senior members –a man was could be considered a mentor (by proxy)- didn't hate my guts. Especially not one with Superman-like powers. I enjoy keeping all my internal organs on the inside. Thank you.

It was several more days until I actually worked up the courage to talk to the man, however.

What can I say? Sometimes I'm as cowardly as a catfish.

I found him laying on the beach –sunbathing. It had taken me the longest time after joining the Team to figure out why he did this, he never tanned. His skin was always the same uniform shade of olive. It never darkened, never blemished. Then someone reminded me that kryptonians gained their powers from Earth's yellow sun. Duh! In the words of my beloved Angel-fish, 'Hello, La'gaan!'

It was approaching afternoon, the sun just beginning to dip closer to the land. My shadow fell over him as I approached.

One crystal-blue eyelid cracked open and stared up at me. I froze in my step.

"You're blocking my sun."

"Sorry!" I quickly jumped to the side.

He said nothing more, his eye once again closing. I felt like I should leave him, let him recharge his solar batteries (or whatever) in peace. But I had come out here for a reason. It was just him and me on the beach. Now was the perfect time to have the conversation I felt were had to have.

I sat down in the sand.

It was low-tide, the waves were nowhere near me and I suddenly wished to feel the comforting cool waters of the sea flowing around me.

He did not sit up, did not even open his eyes when he asked, "Did you want something?"

"No." The word is out of my mouth so quickly I'm unable to stop it. Then I quickly amend, "Yes."

Then I shut up because I'm sounding like an idiot.

Now he does sit up. More of a lean actually. Propping himself up on his elbows, his almost luminous blue eyes fixed me with a sidelong glance, silently asking, 'What do you want?'

There is a beat of silence between us as I realize I have no idea what I wanted to say. Words needed to be spoken between us, this I knew. But what those words actually were was really just an abstract idea in my head. Finally, I decided to just be honest and speak from the heart. It's what my King would have told me to do –had he still been on the planet at the time.

"Superboy, I- I feel as if I should apologize to you." I begin, feeling every bit the fool as it is possible to feel.

"For blocking my sun?" He asks. "You already did."

"No, I…" I'm stuttering like newly spawned guppy and clamp my jaw shut quickly. A moment later I've gathered my thoughts more coherently and begin again. "About M'gann. I want to apologize if my behavior ever offended you. I only recently found out you two had dated."

"I know." He laid back down in the sand. "Gar told me."

"You're not mad?" I ask, skeptical of his calm exterior. I know he is not the subtle type, but I've also been told that he can hold grudges and brood quietly for almost immeasurable expanses of time. I'd rather not have a powerful demi-kryptonian secretly loathing my existence if I can help it.

He once again cracked one eye open at me. "You are not the one who tried to manipulate me into making a scene –several times."

"You knew?"

He smiled up at the sky. "Well, I did kinda date her for four years. It's a little hard to sleep with someone for one thousand and sixty-one days and not get to know them."

"You slept together?"

Stupid question. I knew my Angel-fish was no virgin. We may not have made it that far just yet, but she was far to good a kisser to have never gone farther. Her tongue was to experienced. Her moans to practiced. Superboy young and fit, perpetually in the onset of his prime… of course they had slept together.

That smile changed to a knowing smirk, but he did not look at me when he said, "That's a loaded question."

He was right. And, I quickly realized that, while I might already have guessed the answer, I did not want to hear it. Instead, I returned to the original reason for my coming here. "Will you accept my apology?"

The Superboy missed one… two… three beats before –still not looking at me- he said, "No."

I would be lying if I said this answer did not shock me. He said it with such a calm serenity to his voice, I almost didn't register it as a negative. When my brain finally did process it, all I could say in response was, "Why?"

Now he did look at me once again. The Superboy sat up properly, not propped up on his elbows, but cross-legged –lotus position- in the sand. His crystal gaze was leveled with mine when he asked, "Do you know what it is you're apologizing for?"

My answer was right on the edge of my lips, but I found myself hesitant to answer. Finally, I said, "When we started dating, I was just a rebound. M'gann wanted to make you jealous and she was using me to further that goal. I guess… I'm apologizing for the part that I played in that."

Superboy nodded, not in acceptance but in understanding. Then he continued, "And did you know that's what she was doing before hand? Did you agree to participate in her scheme knowing her intentions?"

"No!" I'm quick to assure him.

"Then you are not the one who needs to apologize." He laid back down in the sand. "It's hot out here, go take a dip in the water so you don't dry out."

It made me feel like a child when he said this and I admit, I was reluctant to comply. But he was right. Sitting in the hot sun on the dry part of the beach isn't exactly the best thing for Atlantian physiology.

I sprint into he waves and splash around for a bit before sitting under the surface and just breathing in the wonderful salty water. I don't really like the waters close to populated centers; it always has a very… unnatural scent to it. But Happy Harbor isn't quite s bad as other places like, say, Los Angeles or New York, and breathing water always comes easier than breathing air.

I take the opportunity to swim a few short laps around the bay. When I come back to the beach behind Mount Justice the sun had dipped low behind the ridge and Superboy is nowhere to be found. That was fine, I supposed. He said I had nothing to apologize for, so I assume that meant that he held no animosity towards me.

It didn't occur to me until I reentered the base that I never got the chance to ask him why he broke-up with her in the first place…

…

END

[goforwardgreenwriter-blog]

The Worm Reads: The Assassin’s Blade, Ch 19-20

SJM either cuts one measly scene into three chapters or crams 100+ long scenes into on chapter so this one is gonna be super fucking long

Celaena dressed in the nicest tunic she’d brought—which wasn’t really anything to admire, but the midnight blue and gold did bring out the turquoise hues in her eyes.

SJM gotta stop bringing attention to Celery’s Mary Sue eyes because I laugh every time I think about them.

Ansel takes Celery to dinner.

Staying alert as they entered the hall was an effort of will. Yet even with her exhaustion, she instinctively scanned the room. There were three exits—the giant doors through which they entered, and two servants’ doors on either end. The hall was packed wall-to-wall with long wooden tables and benches full of people. At least seventy of them in total. None of them looked at Celaena as Ansel ambled toward a table near the front of the room. If they knew who she was, they certainly didn’t care. She tried not to scowl.

This paragraph right here. This sums up everything wrong with this book.

At first while I was reading this, I was like “Yes finally!! Celery is acting like an assassin! It took us two short stories to get here, but we finally did!” And then SJM immediately ruins it by having Celery cry and wail about nobody giving her special attention.

Boo fucking hoo! You’re an assassin, you’re not supposed to stand out, you fucking spoiled asshole!! This character is utter garbage and I hate her so much, this is actually making me enjoy the ending of E0S where she gets the shit kicked out of her and shoved into an iron coffin. Fuck her. Fuck this book.

Ansel mentions some Lord Berick guy, who Celery has never heard of before.

“He’s the villain,” said a curly-haired, dark-eyed man across from Ansel. He was handsome in a way, but had a smile far too much like Captain Rolfe’s for Celaena’s liking. He couldn’t have been older than twenty-five.

Nuance who?

Ansel blathers on about Lord Berick and how he’s the most Evil Guy Ever who wants this part of the desert or some shit. No doubt Celery will beat him in one paragraph if they meet, so who really cares.

Outside of the markets in Rifthold (...) she’d never seen such a mix of different kingdoms and continents. And though most of the people here were trained killers, there was an air of peace and contentment—of joy, even.

This place is way tf better than Arobynn’s shitty assassin joint. Please let us stay here?

Vows of silence, Ansel had explained earlier, were taken for as long as each person saw fit. Some spent weeks in silence; others, years. Ansel claimed she’d once sworn to be silent for a month, and had only lasted two days before she gave up. She liked talking too much. Celaena didn’t have any trouble believing that.

That is quite fucking rich coming from you, Celery.

Celaena felt someone’s attention on her, and tried not to blink when she noticed a dark-haired, handsome young man watching her from a few seats down. Stealing glances at her was more like it, since his sea-green eyes kept darting to her face, then back to his companions.

oh no

Their eyes met, and his tan face spread into a smile, revealing dazzlingly white teeth. Well, he was certainly desirable—as desirable as Sam, maybe.

oh god no why this

SJM has basically skipped out on love triangles (Dorito never had a chance in T0G and Tamlin never had a chance in AC0TAR, and you all know it) but nope, she just had to hit all of the shitty YA tropes. Fucking great. Poor Ilias is probably gonna be put down so Celery can realize Sammy is her one true love.

“I’m surprised you caught Ilias’s eye,” Ansel teased, keeping her voice low enough for only Celaena and Mikhail to hear. “He’s usually too focused on his training and meditating to notice anyone—even pretty girls.” (...) “I’ve known him for years, and he’s never been anything but aloof with me,” Ansel continued. “But maybe he has a thing for blondes.” Mikhail snorted.

Holy shit, is this... self awareness? I mean, both the protagonists of SJM’s big ticket series are skinny blonde white girls who have men drooling left and right for them. I bet that new Creamcheese City novel will also feature a blonde “””strong female character””” as the lead.

Celaena pushed around the food on her plate. It wasn’t that she wasn’t romantic. She’d been infatuated with a few men before—from Archer, the young male courtesan who’d trained with them for a few months when she was thirteen, to Ben, Arobynn’s now-deceased Second, back when she was too young to really understand the impossibility of such a thing.

Dude he’s like a fucking adult and she’s barely 16. Get this nasty shit outta my face. So Celery rescued Ben’s body not because he was a good guy, but because she used to have the hots for him?? This is actually gross.

Mikhail asks why Celery’s master beat the shit out of her, and she kisses her own ass for a moment or two while telling the story of freeing the slaves.

“But if the two hundred slaves that I freed are telling the story, then no, I suppose I didn’t deserve it.” None of them were smiling anymore. “Holy gods,” Ansel whispered. True silence fell over their table for a few heartbeats.

HFAKHDKAHDKAHDS I AM GOING TO LOSE MY SHIT

STOP!! MAKING!! EVERYONE!! SPLOOGE!! OVER!! CELERY!! IM SICK OF READING IT GET IT OUT OF MY FACE

The next day (I think?), Ansel takes Celery out to do some running and Celery is pissy that she isn’t immediately getting special attention from the Mute Master. Good to see Celery will never change in her selfish, whiny ways.

Celery fucking sucks at the run to the oasis and everyone continues to lap her.

A small oasis, mostly a ring of trees and a giant pool fed by a shimmering stream, was barely an eighth of a mile away. She was Adarlan’s Assassin—at least she’d made it here.

Stop reminding me she’s Adaran’s Assassin, I fucking know. Remember how I said at the beginning that Celery doesn’t splooge over herself as much as Alien does? Yeah I take it back, Celery is even more obnoxious.

Later on Ansel tries to stroke Celery’s fragile precious little ego by saying she did worse on her first run.

“My first run, I collapsed. Mile two. Completely unconscious. Ilias found me on his way back and carried me here. In his arms and everything.” Ilias’s eyes met with Celaena’s, and he smiled at her. “If I hadn’t been about to die, I would have been swooning,”

No Ilias/Ansel/Celery love triangle, please.

Celaena blushed, suddenly too aware of Ilias’s attention, and took a sip from her cup of lemon water. As the meal wore on, her blush remained as Ilias continued flicking his eyes toward her. She tried not to preen too much. But then she remembered how miserably she’d performed today— how she hadn’t even gotten a chance to train—and the swagger died a bit.

Celaena made her best attempt to look casual as she, too, stood and bid everyone good night. As she turned away, she noticed that Mikhail took Ansel’s hand and held it in the shadows beneath the table.

Apparently Ansel and Mikhail are a thing? I literally don’t care. Mikhail has said like what, five words this entire story? They’re literally just together because SJM can’t stand the idea of having any single characters (unless they’re evil).

Celery chases down The Master to demand her special snowflake treatment.

The Master paused, his white clothes rustling around him. He offered her a little smile. Up close, she could certainly see his resemblance to his son. There was a pale line around one of his fingers— perhaps where a wedding ring had once been. Who was Ilias’s mother? Of course, it wasn’t at all the time for questions like that.

Yeah, no shit Celery. Why are you such an idiot?

The Mute Master is like “wait your turn” and leaves. Ilias shows up for shipping fuel I guess?

“I have no plans to hurt him,” she said softly. But Ilias gave her a half smile, his brows rising as if to ask if she could blame him for being protective of his father.

Maybe I’m a softie, but this endeared me to him somewhat. He seems like a nice guy, which is more than what you get with 95% if SJM’s male characters. How come all of Celery’s love interests Rowboat who are waaay better characters than her?

His eyes were vivid in the torchlight, his hand firm and warm around hers. She let go of his fingers. The son of the Mute Master and the protégée of the King of the Assassins. If there was anyone here who was at all similar to her, she realized, it was Ilias. Rifthold might be her realm, but this was his.

Human brain: don’t get attached, Celery is an asshole

Monkey brain: hhhhhh parallels between partners in a ship...love....

Not that Ilias and Celery are/will be a thing, but you know. I’m a sucker for shit like this.

Ilias suddenly began making a series of motions with his long, tan fingers, but Celaena laughed softly. “I have no idea what you’re trying to say.” Ilias looked skyward and sighed through his nose. Throwing his hands in the air in mock defeat, he merely patted her on the shoulder before passing by

Ilias is a good, pure boy. I’d read a story where Sammy goes to the desert instead of Celery and him and Ilias fall in love and hold hands under the shade of the desert night. Hngh, I really wish I could be reading that fanfic instead of this novel.

As she walked back to her room, Celaena had a horrible feeling that here, being Adarlan’s Assassin might not count for much.

Celery says this like we’re supposed to feel sorry for her, but back in Arobynn;s Assassin joint she flaunts her title around and rubs it in everyone’s face so yeah, you don’t get sympathy from me.

“How long have you been seeing him?” Ansel was silent for a long moment before answering. “Since I was fifteen.” Fifteen! Mikhail was in his midtwenties, so even if this had started almost three years ago, he still would have been far older than Ansel. It made her a little queasy.

Oh. My. God.

See, I personally don’t like huge age gapes in ships (that’s just my personal preference, don’t fucking @ me) but Celery you literally said earlier you were in love with Ben, a fucking grown man, when you were a young teenager you fucking hypocrite!!!!!!!! God I fucking hate Celery!!!!!!!

With nothing else to distract her, Celaena eventually returned to thinking about Sam. Even weeks later, she had no idea how she’d somehow gotten attached to him, what he’d been shouting when Arobynn beat her, and why Arobynn had thought he’d need three seasoned assassins to restrain him that day.

Pretty simple answers. You got attached to Sammy because a) SJM wanted you to so she forced you to start thirsting for him, and b) you realized “oh hey Sammy is a good guy maybe I shouldn’t imagine myself slitting his throat”. What Sammy was shouting will be revealed later to my knowledge, and as for the 3 assassins thing... idk, tbh. I mean, Sammy is just a teenager boy, one big buff assassin should be enough to restrain him.

This chapter finally ends thank fucking god. We still have one more to go for today.

[Celaena] did run farther the next day. And the day after that, and the one following that. But it still took her so long to get back that she didn’t have time to seek out the Master. Not that she could. He’d send for her. Like a lackey.

Stop trying to make me feel bad for Celery being ignored if she’s just gonna splooge about how ~special and uhmayzing~ she is.

Like the assassins in Adarlan, the Silent Assassins weren’t known for any skill in particular—save the uncannily quiet way they moved.

That seems kinda odd. Assassins should be talented at many ways of disposing of people yeah, but wouldn’t it make more sense for some of them to have a knack for a certain type of killing, such as using poisons?

Still, even as [the assassins] corrected her posture and showed her new ways to control her breathing, she tried her best not to snarl at them. She knew plenty—she wasn’t Adarlan’s Assassin for nothing.

If I have to read that fucking sentence one more time I am ripping this book in half. No joke, I am a hair’s length away from not finishing this fucking book. Even E0S never got me to want to throw  the towel in completely and quit like this.

Perhaps if she demonstrated that she was skilled enough in these practices, the Master might take notice of her. She’d get that letter. Even if she had to hold a dagger to his throat while he wrote it.

Wow, asshole! You have to put in the tiniest amount of effort to learn and talk to people and you’re already resorting to violence??? You really are a weak and stupid protagonist and I hate you with every fiber of my being.

The attack by Lord Berick happened on her fifth night.

This made me sit up in my seat, to be honest. We finally get.... plot? Promises of action? Assassins versus assassins? Holy shit, I’m hype!

Apparently the attack happens oh so conveniently when the Mute Master and a bunch of assassins are away on a mission. Celery acknowledges this as extremely convenient, which leads me to believe there may be a rat in the assassin fortress. If not, then this is laughably stupid and convenient.

“We’re not going to kill [the soldiers]?” Celaena whispered back. (...) Ansel shook her head, watching Ilias down the line. “No, though I wish we could.” Celaena didn’t particularly care for the casual way she said it

Why would that fucking bother you?? Don’t act all high and mighty asshole, you’re an assassin the same as her. You both kill people for a living. Jesus fucking christ.

They all fire some burning arrows at an oil ridge in the sand or something which scares off Lord Berick’s goons. The scene ends.

I’m not even joking, this entire scene takes up a page and a tiny paragraph of another. I... I’m fucking speechless. You promise us an action scene and you give us this shitty, glossed over pile of garbage that serves no point? No named characters were even injured!!!!!! Holy fucking shit, SJM, you are a terrible terrible terrible writer! Please fucking stop, I can’t handle any more of these dumpster fires of novels.

The next day Mikail tells Ansel she has orders to go to Xandria, and she invites Celery to go along with, I assume Xandria is a place.....? This chapter ends. I am going to drown myself in chocolate chip cookies to heal.

[inakua]

See What Tomorrow Brings

Request:  HP/Draco x Hermione/a love/hate relationship? That stems from having to prefect duties together? Jealous Ron?/no smut or anything extreme, just fluff? - @hermione-who​ for @fanficnet​

Warnings: n/a (I will always try and tag as many warnings as I can think of for each writing, if you read through and find something that I haven’t listed which may be a trigger for someone please send me an ask or message me so that I can add it to this list, thanks!)

Pairings: Draco x Hermione

Words: 1,739

A/N: hi guys! sorry it’s been a while since I’ve posted anything, I’ve recently restarted my fanfic and writing network back up, a part of this net is that people send in oneshot requests and then our writers (around 6 of us so far) will write for the requests we want to, meaning that some people will get more than one oneshot for their request! It would be really appreciated if you could check out the net @fanficnet​ and send in a request for us to write :) We also review others writing, have a ficrecs page and post prompts every Monday and Thursday, if you wanted to send any of your writing in there! All info is in the blogs description! 

Hope you like this oneshot, i love Dramione so this was great for me to write! Although I did veer more to the ‘love’ part of the love hate relationship ;)

Okay so I realised when I finished this that there isn’t really that much fluff and their isn’t any jealous Ron, but I like it I hope you do too! Even though I went a bit rogue and didn’t comply fully to your request <3

Just a bit of background info, basically this is set in their 6th year, so when Draco has already taken the mark, the two of them have done prefect duties since 5th year and they started becoming friends, albeit slowly and with a lot of arguing. This turned into a relationships, which they have successfully kept a secret.

Sorry for this super long A/N, hope you don’t mind :/

REQUEST A ONESHOT

Harry was confused.

Today was a Wednesday, which meant that tonight was the night that Hermione had prefect duties with Malfoy. Why did this confuse him? Well almost every Wednesday evening since the beginning of term Hermione had ran into the common room, ranting about something or another that Malfoy had done.

This evening though, she’d been quiet, if Harry hadn’t been actively waiting for her then he doubted he’d even have been able to tell she’d entered the common room.

She’d made her way over to her arm chair, the one that stood directly in front of the fireplace, and was facing away from the door. It was her favourite spot because not only was she kept warm by the fire, but people generally either forgot she was their or didn’t notice because she was hidden behind it’s large back, a book usually in hand and silent as a mouse.

As he watched her sit, not even picking up a book, but just staring out at the rain smashing against the window panes, he thought back to just last Wednesday when she’d arrived back from prefect duties.

...

“He’s so infuriating!” Hermione cried, Harry could’ve sworn she had smoke coming from her ears. She’d been like this ever since she’d stormed into the common room, a regular occurrence now that she was doing prefect duties with none other than Draco Malfoy.

“What did the Ferret do this time ‘Mione?” Ron asked, jumping at any chance he could to bash Draco Mafloy.

“He - He just - I can’t, he’s so obnoxious and self absorbed” She screamed, hurling herself onto her arm chair, before springing straight back up and again and pacing in front of the fire.

...

As the memory replayed in his brain Harry couldn’t help but be curious about her change in attitude, what had happened?

Cautiously, and against his better judgement, he made his way over to where Hermione was sat, her body still and rigid.

“Hey, you alright there ‘Mione?” Harry asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. At the contact Hermione jumped, not expecting the sudden touch as she was ripped out of her thoughts.

“Harry?” She asked, blinking slowly as her best friend came into focus. 

“Yeah,” He replied, his worry increasing at her behaviour, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing I - I just - I just need to get some sleep?” She asked, as if she wasn’t too sure herself and was trying to convince herself just as much as she was Harry.

“You sure? You know you can tell me anything,” Harry assured her, grasping her hand in his and squeezing reassuringly.

“No, I - Uh, it’s fine, really. I’ll just go up to bed now,” Hermione replied, her voice broken and slow.

As she stood up, she squeezed Harrys’ hand, offering him a hesitant smile, before making her way up to the girls dormitory.

She wished she could tell him was was going on, she really did.

...

The next morning Hermione awoke to find that it was still dark outside, checking the time she realised that it was only 5am. 

Blearily, she got out of bed, groaning as her body clicked after staying in one position all night. 

She knew that it was too early for anyone else to be up, so she made her way into the bathroom, making sure to cast a silencing spell on the door so no-one would hear as she turned the shower on and got in.

As she showered her thoughts strayed to the events that had transpired yesterday evening,

How could he have been so stupid? He just had to go and get a bloody dark mark, I knew he’d have to get it eventually, but why now? Why didn’t he tell me about it? Why was old Moldyshorts branding a 16 year old? I didn’t think he’d get it until he was of age. He’s going to get himself killed, I wouldn’t be able to bare it if he wasn’t here with me.

Hermione didn’t even realise she was crying, that the water had gone cold and the only warmth was that of the tears running helplessly down her cheeks.

She needed some fresh air, to get out of the castle, she couldn’t stand the thoughts that were swirling through her mind.

Getting out of the shower, she pulled on some joggers and a vest top, before making her way out of the bathroom, down the stairs and out into the corridors of Hogwarts, not caring that the air was cold and she was sure to freeze with just a vest top on.

Walking along the corridors, she couldn’t help but jump at every shadow, created by the barely there moon as it descended into the horizon,

The silence was deafening, as ridiculous as it sounds, but it was true. She was so used to the hustle and bustle, to the busy corridors in between lessons and the cries and shouts of students as they tried to shuffle their way to wherever it was they were heading.

Just as she was about to turn up a flight of stairs, a figure appeared from around the corner in front of her. Quickly, and without any hesitation, she whipped her wand out from the pocket in her joggers and help it in front of her, ready to defend herself should the person attack her.

“Mia?”

“Draco?”

They both asked this at the same time, Hermione tried to keep the smile of her face at his nickname for her, but didn’t succeed. Luckily it was just dark enough that she didn’t think he’d noticed.

“What are you doing up?” Draco asked, waking towards her, just as she began taking steps towards him.

“I - I just needed some air,” She replied, trying to stay strong after seeing him for the first time since yesterday.

“Me too,” He admitted. The two of them stood there for a minute, neither talking, never making eye contact.

“Look - “ Draco began, at the same time Hermione opened her mouth to say something.

“I don’t -”

You go first,” Hermione said.

“Okay, I - I’m sorry about yesterday, I didn’t mean for you to see my mark, I just, I didn’t want you to see it,” He told her, reaching out and hooking his fingers under her chin, lifting her head so that she was looking at him and not the floor.

“So you were going to lie to me?” She spat, eyes glaring daggers and nose flared at his declaration.

“I - no. I was just - yes. Yes, I wasn’t going to tell you,” He admitted, dropping his head to look at the floor. Hermione, not caring that he was ashamed carried on with her rant, 

“I knew it was going to happen eventually! But I thought you would’ve told me! How did you think I felt when I pulled your sleeve up and saw that branded on your arm, like nothing but a cow put up for slaughter. Then - Then you had the nerve to tell me that it wasn’t my place, that it wasn’t my place to know that the boy that I loved had the dark mark. I can’t let you die Draco! I don’t know what I’d do if you died! It would ruin me, all of this, everything we have, it would be for nothing, because you wouldn’t be there. You wouldn’t be there to hold me in your arms, you wouldn’t be there to kiss me or hug me or love me because you’d be dead.” 

Hermione had tears streaming down her face, fists were clenched at her side and the volume of her voice rising and rising until she practically screaming at the boy in front of her. Draco didn’t know what to say, he just stood there numbly, her words vibrating around in his head.

“You - You love me?” He mumbled.

“All of that and all you get from it is that I love you? Of course I love you, you idiot. Why would I be stood here, broken because of what you’re doing if I didn’t love you? I - I can’t Draco, I love you so much, what if you die? I don’t - don’t want to live without you - I -” 

Before Hermione could get herself anymore worked up, Draco dragged her into his arms, clinging to her for dear life. His heart breaking as her sobs tore through the silence, he could feel her tears on his torso.

“I love you too Mia,” He whispered, which only proceeded in making her sob harder. “I - I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you, I just - I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me. I had to take the mark. I need you to understand that. If I didn’t then he would’ve killed mother, he would’ve killed everything that he knew I loved.”

The pair stood, neither wanting to move or leave the warmth of the other after their adminssions. Draco stroked her hair as she continued to sob into his chest, her cries diminishing as they stood there. 

Hermione clutched onto him as if he were the only thing left, her sobs ceasing when she felt the tell tale wet drop of a tear falling onto her shoulder. 

“I don’t want to lose you Draco,” Hermione whispered, now much calmer than before and content in the arms of the one she loved.

“You’ll never lose me Mia, I’m always with you and after the war -” 

“Don’t finish that ... please,” She asked, her voice strained as if she was in real pain. “We might not make it to see the end of the war, so for now can we just live in the moment and see what tomorrow brings?” 

“See what tomorrow brings,” Draco smiled, “I like it.

The two of them held each other until the moon had disappeared and the sun was poking up from behind the castle walls.

“I love you,” Hermione mumbled, removing herself from his arms reluctantly, placing an affectionate kiss on his cheek. 

“And I you,” He replied, grinning cheekily as he lent down and pecked her on the lips, squeezing her hands in his before they walked away, both back to their respective common rooms, but not before stealing one last glance at each other as they made their way around the corners.

[thewhiterabbit42]

Full Circle: Part 4

Full Circle Masterlist

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader

Warnings/Tags: Winchester sister!reader, a touch of angst, a side of disappointment, odd forms of blasphemy, celestial cock blocking, and a few swears.

Word Count: 7,823

Summary: You’re given the chance to fix past mistakes, but, like most things with Gabriel, your night doesn’t go quite as planned.

Author’s note: All tags are at the end - if you find a line through your name, tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you :(

Special thanks to my wonderful beta @sumara62​ because there’s always that one damn spot in each story you know exactly what I’m trying to say and you help me say it.  Also special thanks to @blondecoffeecake​ who’s sunshine and encouragement is one of the few things limping my muse along right now. 

<<Prev Chapter     Part 4     Next Chapter>>

You were beginning to wonder if the resurrection process hadn’t left Gabriel’s eggs a little scrambled.  

First, he snapped you into the bar.  Not that you weren’t used to him preferring to travel that way.  It was one thing to bring you to somewhere, however, and another to send you both barreling into the side of a building.  

Just shaking the rust off, sweetheart was his response while casually brushing off the side of your jacket.

Second, his attention span was far more abysmal than you remembered.  Sure, it had never been great if it didn’t involve sex, sweets, or sabotage, though tonight it seemed to have more to do with that scattered energy thrumming through him.  It spilled over into his movements, every hand gesture, every look a little more frantic than was usual, which again had you questioning whether or not this Gabriel was somehow changed.  

Third, he must have lost the instruction manual that came with the game because this was not how you played.  

“Gabriel…” You said, voice taking on a sing song quality as you stretched out his name.

“Hmmm?” He hummed absentmindedly, eyes flicking up nonchalantly as if he’d been staring at your food instead of your chest.  You glanced down, checking yet again to make sure you hadn’t dropped anything down the front of you that was somehow distracting him.

To be honest, you had dropped men for far less of an infraction, but this was Gabriel.  You might have understood if you had yourself on display.  The sweater you’d chosen, however, was probably the most modest thing you owned, neckline running high with an overall loose fit, giving only a hint of what was underneath.  

Dean would be so proud.  You couldn’t advertise yourself any less if you'd tried.

Sharp laughter drew your attention away and you turned toward it, watching a couple walk through the entrance.  He disappeared out of your side vision for a split second and your hairs stood on end as he almost immediately reappeared. You didn’t even know what to do with that, other than maybe start questioning your sanity again.  Every time you took your eyes off him, he seemed to glitch, as if not quite real.  

Maybe he wasn’t.  Maybe this was what you had dubbed his shadow twin and the real Gabriel was somehow still dead.  

“That couple seem odd to you?” He asked, eyes drifting toward the bar.  You followed it, gaze appraising.  They appeared fairly mediocre.  There was nothing notable in their appearance or with their clothing.  The only thing that was in any way distinctive was the sheer air of bliss surrounding them.  The woman couldn’t seem to stop giggling as the man whispered to her, his face beaming with a wide smile.  

Newlyweds, because they were definitely living in a fantasy world.  

“Other than looking disgustingly happy?” You did your best to keep your tone light and stave off the bitterness vying for a place in your voice.  

“Exactly.  I mean, who’s that happy?” He demanded, eyes narrowing.  He wasn’t quite suspicious, but you also wouldn’t say he wasn’t eyeing them as if they might somehow be a threat.  

“Normal people without a clue as to what’s really out there in the world?” You hedged a guess, chasing the slight edge in your tone down with the rest of your drink.

“You need another drink,” Gabriel decided, pointing to your glass.  “And not that cheap stuff they keep behind the bar.”

You looked down to find your glass had not only been refilled with a different shade of amber, but it had also doubled in size.  You took a sip, mouth awash in pleasant, smoother flavors followed by a less caustic burn once swallowed.  The moment you looked up, however, you found his eyes right back where they’d been sitting for most of the evening.  

There were worst things, you supposed, than being served top notched drinks while an archangel ogled you.

“Gabriel,” exasperation sang through his name, though it didn’t appear to faze him.

“Yes, sugar?” He replied, eyes dropping to his own glass as he rubbed a finger along the rim.  He wasn’t staring, you realized, finally catching the look on his face.  He was zoning out.  It shouldn’t have surprised you.  He never stuck around for very long, only you couldn’t remember him ever getting bored this quickly.   

Then again, he hadn’t been exactly offering up his usual scintillating conversation, either.  

“Well I can see what kind of guy you are,” you baited, turning your attention back to your burger.

“Excuse me?” His eyes flashed back up, a little more focused.  There was nothing like throwing out a barb to get him hooked again.

“Most guys have a preference on body parts,” you said casually around a large bite of your food.  “I once knew a guy that thought I had the sexiest ankles.”  You smirked, both at the memory and at how high the angel’s brow arched as he regarded your features once again.  

“My father did do an exceptional job when creating you,” he said so cautiously you almost stopped mid chew to stare.  The Gabriel you knew was never careful.  In fact, you were pretty certain his filter was permanently warped, if not outright broken.  He also never acted with anything other than that obnoxious air of confidence that bordered on hubris.  

It was clear by the way he was regarding you, however, he was not very confident as to where this conversation was going.

“I’m not fishing for compliments, champ, but thanks anyway,” you slid your plate a little closer to him, offering some fries which he, not surprisingly, refused.  You suddenly recalled the only time you’d actually seen him eat any was when he’d had a milkshake to dip them in.  

“So which do you prefer?”  You continued, trying to prevent silence from lapsing again.

“Um, well, if this is a serious question,” he began, pausing to consider.  “I’d say that’s a gross oversimplification of preferences.  Beauty is so much more than just one aspect of a body, and I’m not talking the cliched what’s on the inside counts more mantra they preach these days - not that personality doesn’t play a role.  But if we’re talking straight up physical attractiveness, it’s all about balance.  You show me the hottest set of tits, legs, or ass in creation, and I’d guarantee if you put them all together it would be the one of the most grotesque things you’ve ever seen.”

For a moment you could only blink.  It shouldn't have surprised you so much that Gabriel would somehow turn the tables and catch you off guard.  Clearly, he wasn't the only one with a little rust to get rid of.  

“What about you?” He asked.  “You have any preferences?”

Oh, you had a preference alright, for all the wrong guys.  Most of them had been one night stands or hunters, the latter of which had either ditched you, cheated on you, or in one case, left you for dead in the middle of a case.  It wasn’t that you didn’t think you deserved better. The problem was finding someone who knew about the life without having all the baggage.  

“Yeah,” you muttered, “Tends to be for giant dicks.”  The words were out of your mouth before you realized what you’d said.

“Well, I didn’t expect you to be so one dimensional but I guess we all have our flaws,” he teased.  You let out a slight laugh, almost inhaling one of your fries.  

“Because who wants a giant one of those?” You snorted.

“I always figured Cas as more of a pushover than anything,” he mused, and the bitterness that crept into his words struck a similar note as your own.  

“What does Cas have to do with anything?”  You were completely lost again.  You had no idea what happened between the two of them, but something had rubbed Gabriel the wrong way by how the dark-haired angel couldn’t seem to stay out of the conversation.

“Although..,” he began, eyes flashing up to yours, whiskey glimmering as he gave you a knowing smile.  “If that was a hint you’re interested, sweetheart, you just had to say so.”

He hadn’t lost the manual, you decided.  He had set it on fire and was in the process of making up new rules.  It had been about subtleties, maybe a well placed innuendo here or there, but it had always been about dancing around those carefully placed lines.  Tonight, however, he seemed intent on charging right over them.  

“I believe your exact words were there’s a big difference in being a dick and knowing how to use one and you, Gabriel?  Are the biggest dick in creation,” he reminded.

You smiled.  You remembered that conversation well.  Might have been because you were trapped in an alternate reality.  Might have been because Gabriel stuck you in a naughty nurse’s outfit which made you livid.  Might have also been because you punched him square in the face for it and then he’d given you a peace offering in the form of the herpes commercial and Nutcracker show.

You were just about to respond when your FBI cell went off.  Gabriel suddenly stood up.  

“Don’t get up on my account,” he said.  “I’ll just go… get another round.”

You stared at the back of him as if he’d grown two heads when he moved toward the bar.  Not only was he making his own drinks at this point, but you weren’t going anywhere considering you were pretty sure his super sonic angel hearing had a radius bigger than city block… not to mention why would you leave to take a call he was likely responsible for anyway?

There definitely had to be some circuits fried.

“Hey sheriff,” you answered, recognizing the number.  

“I’d tell you to get those drinks ready, but I’m kind of already at the liquor store…” The sheriff informed you.  

“Why do I sense a but coming…”

You could only imagine what would follow, and you braced yourself for the inevitable.

“... Probably because most of the store appears to have gone missing while the staff was working.”

You almost sighed in relief.  Admittedly, that sounded odd, but it didn’t exactly sound like Gabriel’s normal brand of mischief.  

“I’m looking at the security feed right now and one was at the register all shift while the other was in back doing inventory, so neither of them did anything, but neither did anyone else.”

“Like someone stole the store out from under their nose… and the security cameras?” You asked, confused.

“That’s just it.  The bottles are still there, but the liquor itself… well, it’s gone.   Like someone poured it out and put it all back...”

Your eyes narrowed on Gabriel who turned, giving you an innocent wave.    

“Or like someone drank it?” You stated more than asked.  

“I… guess?”  He responded. It sounded like he was unsure whether or not to call you out on your theory.  Not the only one waving around a one way ticket to the crazy express.  He apparently came to the same conclusion and decided to move on.

“It gets stranger, if you can believe it,” the second half of his statement seemed to be muttered more to himself than her.  “Only three sections were left when we arrived: gin, whiskey, and vodka.  Five minutes ago a whiskey bottle fell off the shelf and when a deputy went to pick it up… he found some of it missing.  Someone opened that bottle and took some of it while we were here.”

“Let me guess.  That bottle was high shelf stuff,” you surmised.

“How’d you know?” The man sounded not only surprised, but a little spooked.

The sheriff didn’t know just how lucky he was to be dealing with empty liquor bottles.  If vanishing whiskey unnerved him this much, she’d hate to see what he’d do with reports of slow dancing aliens or any number of antics Gabriel could conjure up.

“If you haven’t opened any of those bottles yourself, you probably should,” you said dryly, trying to ease some of his nerves, though you were only half-joking.    

“My deputy might be in back with one of his own as we speak,” he said, completely not joking.  “Can I ask you something and get an honest answer?”

“You can ask,” you told him, careful not to commit to actually answering anything.

“Do you know what’s going on?”

Honestly, you didn’t feel like you did.  You knew Gabriel was responsible, but what you couldn’t figure out was why he seemed so unlike his usual self.  Then again, you’d probably have a hard time bouncing back if your brother had killed you, but you couldn’t help but feel as if there was something else you were missing.  

“I have an idea,” you finally said, gaze absently falling back on the archangel.  He met it this time, giving you a devilishly handsome smile.  Scratch that.  Handsomely devilish by the extra little glint in his eye.  Probably because he was listening to every word being said and enjoying the chaos he’d started.    

“Do I want to know?” He asked.  

Well, wasn’t that a loaded question.  The sheriff seemed like a nice enough man.  There probably wasn’t a need to shatter his normal concept of the world over someone who would undoubtedly disappear from town before tomorrow anyway.  You just needed to keep said someone corralled in the meantime.  

“No, sheriff, you really don’t,” you advised.

“Right.  I’ll just…  spend the rest of my night figuring out how to write a report that doesn’t make me sound like my cheese has finally slipped off my cracker.”

“You know, a local trickster is as good a scapegoat as any,” you suggested, watching the angel’s lips curl up into a smirk.  

“That’s not half bad,” the sheriff replied, sounding thoughtful.  “And the hotel?”

Your watched as Gabriel received another glass, this one was orange tinged and had a little umbrella sticking out the top.  You put the phone on your shoulder, arching a brow as you pointed to the newest drink.  Sex on the beach he mouthed before his brows gave a quick flare.  You rolled your eyes, turning your back to him as you picked up your phone again.

“Agent, you there?” The sheriff was asking.

“Yeah… I’m not sure what advice you’re looking for since I don’t know what hotel you’re talking about,” you hinted.  You weren’t sure, but you thought you might have heard a long, drawn out sigh.  “Call back if you need to, but if you want to avoid any potentially strange things, you may not want to check the vodka aisle anytime soon.”

“Right.  I think I’m going to be tied up here for the rest of the night.  All these empty bottles need to be processed and entered as evidence,” he began to explain, nervousness coloring his tone.

“Sheriff, if you’re smart, you’ll stay tied up the rest of the time I’m here,” you told him, giving him the out he was looking for.   

“Yeah.  Good idea,” he said before ending the call.

An amused puff of air slipped out of your nose and you shook your head.  This was why you couldn’t find anyone normal, because all the regular, smart ones knew when to run.  Not that you were disappointed considering your alternate plans, although now a little sideways, still involved one of the few individuals that could make you feel remotely like yourself again.  

“Gabriel...” You called over, tucking the phone back in your pocket.  The way his eyes snapped to yours immediately, he had been waiting for his cue.  He turned, fixing you with a charming smile as he caught sight of the stern look on your face.

“Gabe,” he corrected, sauntering back toward you.  “You, my dear, can call me Gabe.”  His voice dropped a little lower, brows giving a quick flare.

Old habits apparently died harder than archangels.  He’d been waging this battle since TV Land.  At the time, it seemed wise not to get too familiar with a being like him.  Strict boundaries and clear lines had seemed so important back then.  

What you called him now, however, was the least of your worries.  

“Gabe,” you conceded.  

Triumph splashed across his face in the self-satisfied pull of his lips and the crinkle of his eyes, and you could have sworn he’d won an actual war instead of laying to rest such a small detail in your relationship.  

“Yes?” He asked, tone raising dramatically as he leaned even closer to you.  That’s when it hit you.

You would never forget this smell.  It was the one your father never failed to reek of the first night back from a case, only this wasn’t the one of someone who’d just emptied half a bottle of whiskey.  This wasn’t even the smell of someone who’d had a full one.  The one coming from the angel was more than was humanly possible… like an entire liquor store was pouring out of him.  

And just like that, one of the final puzzle pieces dropped into place.

“Are you drunk?” You demanded, folding your arms over your chest.  

“Maybe?”  He asked back.  “It’s been a few centuries.  I’m… not quite sure.”  He leaned a little too far into your space, and you felt your heart rate quicken at his closeness.  His balance shifted faster than he could compensate for and you had to grab him as he stumbled to keep him upright.  

“Why don’t we head back to the hotel,” you suggested.  The thought of having to manage a sober archangel was daunting enough, let alone having to deal with an inebriated one in public.  The last thing you needed was for him to get bored and really start some mischief.

Trying to explain to an entire police department how to wrangle a minotaur was not on a list of things you ever wanted to do again.

Gabriel’s eyes dropped to where your hand had settled.  You could feel his heart thumping gently against your palm and you were surprised when it quickened.  You weren’t sure how everything worked when they took over a vessel, but you had seen Cas hurt enough times to know they didn’t make nearly as big of a mess when they got injured.  It was comforting to know their hearts still beat though, even if they technically didn’t need them.

Once he seemed steady enough, you stepped back, releasing him.  

“I thought you’d never ask, sweet cheeks,” he murmured, waiting for you to turn around before smacking you square in the ass.  You froze, lips pursing together as you bit back a response. If having two brothers had taught you anything, it was if you didn’t react, the shenanigans would at least not get any worse.  

“Just cashing in that rain check you owe me,” he explained and you could hear the self-satisfied grin varnishing his tone.

You moved forward, trying to put some distance between the two of you.  The energy in the room had become more chaotic since you called him on being drunk, and it only fueled your suspicion that he was still keeping something from you.  You just wished he trusted you enough to stop playing games and just tell you what the hell was going on.  

“I… should probably not snap us anywhere,” he declared as he caught up to you.  “Last time I drank a little too much, I ended up in the bathtub at my neighbor’s apartment.  His name was Bubba and he liked his baths.”  Gabe’s brows shot clear to his hairline in recollection before a sing-song, “Awk-ward,” slipped out of his mouth.  

You also wished he could stop being so damn endearing long enough for you to hold his feet to the fire.  

“Come on, bubbles.  Let’s get you out of here,” you told him, taking him by the arm.  

He let out a chuckle, dimples showing as his smile softened to one of genuine amusement.  It was the most relaxed response you’d seen all evening, that little manic edge seeming to have faded now that he had a decent amount of drink in him, despite the surge in his energy.

“If you’re trying not to be attractive, you’re failing miserably,” he let you know as you made your way out the door.  You ignored the comment, thankful you didn’t have far to go with him.

“Right now?  I’m just trying to get your drunk ass off the street,” you told him.  The hotel was right around the corner.  All you had to do was keep him out of trouble for five minutes… which was far easier said than done.  

“I could conjure us up a little magical transportation,” he said and your eyes widened as he raised his hand.  

“No,” you insisted, hastily grabbing at his fingers which were poised to snap.  It was bad enough dealing with whatever a rational Gabriel conjured; you could only imagine what would appear now.

“I thought you liked unicorns?” He teased, grinning.  

Oh, you liked them all right… after they’d been filled with magical lead.  For all the lore that had remained, you’d have thought bloodthirsty impaling assholes would have been hinted at somewhere, not just the whole rainbow magic and sparkles.  

“I get it.  You’re looking for something a little more subtle,” he said, slipping his arm out from yours and twirling around, leaving his other hand still in your grasp.  “How about an acromantula?”

“Gabriel,” you warned, a laugh escaping your lips as you imagined the look on the sheriff’s face when he started receiving reports of a man and a woman riding a giant spider through town.  The angel taunted you by raising his still free hand, readying it to snap.  You lunged forward only to have him yank it out of reach at the last second.  

“Ok, ok.  I’ll settle for a satyr,” he said, pretending to be put out as his hand continued to zig zag away from your grasp.  You let out a groan which only made his grin widen.

“Jesus’ crispy bacon, don’t you even dare,” you warned, finally capturing his second hand and holding it tightly in yours.  

“Protest all you want, but I know it’s a lot more fun than anything tall, dark and dour does with you,” he said, smugness creasing his lips as he smirked down at you.  “Bet you’d even enjoy the look on the sheriff’s face when you explained how to catch one of those.”

You had no idea what the hell his first remark meant, but he wasn’t completely wrong with the latter.  You bit your lip, stifling a giggle when you thought about what he’d look like when he realized the only two settings that came with those beasts were hungry and horny.  

“Would be a shame to actually get called out for anything and lose this quality time we’re having,” you told him.  “But I guess that is what I do.  Hunt things.  Save people.  Hang out with giant dicks,” you baited, beginning to drag him along the sidewalk by his hands.

If you could just keep him distracted, you might have a shot of making it without attracting attention.

“Kidding,” he sang, his announcement pushing the fringe of incredulity.  “Even I don’t want to deal with that headache.  I only used them that one time to prove the point that I am not the most obnoxious being in creation, as Thing One so enthusiastically suggested,” he reminded.

You could never keep it straight which brother was which, though you could recall Dean pitching an abnormally big hissy fit and getting into Gabriel’s face before it all happened, so you could only assume it was him.  He was also the target of not one but three of the four satyrs the angel had conjured while the fourth one, of course, had gone rogue to terrorize the town.

“Admit it: you just did it to see the look on his face when they started humping his legs,” you told him as you neared the corner.

“Would you believe me if I said I did it for the look on your face when it did?”  He said, all dramatic pretenses dropping.  

“Why would you do that?” You asked absentmindedly, head craning to catch a glimpse of the hotel.  Another minute or two and you’d be back in your room where, if needed, you could stuff his ass in the second closet which was warded to contain angels and demons, since both were equally on your naughty list these days.

“If you don’t know the answer to that, sweetheart, you still aren’t paying attention,” he said with a shake of his head.  You glanced back at him, brows knitting together.  Was that disappointment you detected?  

“C’mon.  We’re almost there,” you told him, giving him a smile because you didn’t know what else to do.  You released one of his hands, keeping a firm grip on the other as you turned and continued on.  

By the time you made it into the building, you weren’t sure what you had trailing behind you.  Gabriel hadn’t said another word and you hadn’t chanced a glance to see exactly what kind of mood he was in. Was it his surly counterpart that occasionally made an appearance?  Was it the even rarer pensive version that actually thought before saying something?  Was it even really him?   

You pulled him past the elevator, not wanting to risk the ride.  At least if you kept moving you could pretend things weren’t as awkward as they increasingly felt.

“Last one up gets the couch,” you challenged as you entered the stairwell, giving him a playful nudge with your elbow before taking off up the stairs.  You had made it almost to the top when you realized you didn’t hear him behind you.  You glanced down, pace slowing when you noticed he was no longer there.  

Son of a bitch.  Had he seriously just given you the slip?  Your heart screeched to a halt, anxiety pouring down through your chest and forcing the air from your lungs.  You were more concerned about the fact that he was gone again than by the havoc he could potentially be wreaking.  

You reached the top landing, turning just in time to keep from colliding with the body that suddenly appeared in front of you.  

“Jesus fuck,” you shrieked, so startled that you instinctively jumped back.  Gabriel grabbed you, preventing you from tumbling back down the steps as he whirled you around and safely into his arms.  You couldn’t tell if it was his touch or the sheer amount of adrenaline rushing through you that sent a dizzying jolt through your system, but for a moment all you could do was stare.

“Thanks,” you finally said and the look on his face was unreadable.  “That’s cheating, by the way.”  

You gave him a small smile.  He didn’t say a word in return.  He simply released you before reaching behind his back to open the door.  He gestured for you to go through, but you hesitated.  

You didn’t want him out of your sight again, though you couldn’t actually tell him that.  You also didn’t want to admit how much had gone through your head in that moment he disappeared. You held your hand back out to him, tension mounting as you waited for his response.  You kept the same smile plastered on your face, hoping it might ward off whatever was causing that manic undercurrent to become so much more pronounced again.  Everything about him resembled a caged animal, one that was desperate to be let out.   

It was not a look he wore well.

He laced his fingers with yours, your hand practically buzzing from his energy.  Relief eased some of your worry and you focused on just making it back to your room.  It was only halfway down the hall, but somehow those final feet seemed to take even longer than the rest of the walk had.  

You were very aware of the increasingly heavy silence with each step, as were you to the why.  How many times had you fantasized about leading Gabriel back to your room?  About the way it would feel for his lips to be on yours, his hands exploring the curves of your body, as you explored just what exactly lay beneath his clothes.  How many times had you prayed for a second chance with him because you could never find the courage the first hundred or so you’d been given, and squandered?

Then again, in all those situations, neither of you were stewing in alcohol.  You let out a slow breath, finding you were relieved more than disappointed.  How many times had you prayed for him just to be alive and eating his way into a diabetic coma somewhere?  

You stopped in front of your door, fishing your key out of your pocket before sticking it in the lock.  

“You still with me, champ?” You asked, catching sight of the distant look on his features.  He didn’t respond.  He seemed a million miles away at that moment.  Then again, who was to say he really wasn’t?  At this point, anything was possible, including the notion that this was somehow one giant mindfuck of a trick.  

His gaze lowered slightly, as if sensing that thought, whiskey shaking off a little haze before focusing on you.  Intently.  

“You going to let me in?” He mused, brow arching slightly.  The look in his eye was different, unfamiliar, and it was making you nervous.  You weren’t about to deny him, however.  At least letting him in afforded you a modicum of control.  

You were about to be shown just how very wrong that assumption was.  

He was practically on top of you the moment you made it through the threshold, his presence suddenly looming.  It swelled even further as the door clicked shut behind him, every inch of the space filled with him and only him.  

“You going to eat me?” you teased, only half-joking as you tried to dispel some of the tension still hovering in the air.  

“Only if you want me to, sweetness.”  His tone caressed your senses like the finest silk; it was so smooth and utterly seductive.  You swallowed as the lights suddenly dimmed, candles popping up at the snap of his fingers to create the perfect ambience.  

“Gabriel what --”

“Hush,” he murmured, finger flashing up to your lips in an attempt to cut off your protest.  “I’m going to go out on limb and assume the sheriff was not intended as a third for your little party.”

You blinked.  If he didn’t start making sense soon, your mind was going to collapse on itself from all the whiplash you were getting.  

“I mean, I can’t imagine Cas would even know what to do with you properly, let alone two of you, so I assume whatever arrangement you have is not exclusive.”

The scariest part about that conclusion was that he looked like he was actually clarifying something.

“You’re drunk,” you told him.  Clearly he had forgotten which Winchester he was talking to, and you would have laughed had he not been so serious about it.    

“Gabriel, I honestly have no idea what you’re going on about,” you told him when he just continued to stare.  “Why don’t we get you some water.”  

Wait.  Did water even work on angels?  

“Don’t,” he warned, eyes narrowing dangerously.  “His scent was all over your bed when I got here - all over you.  I can still feel him beneath your skin.”  

Well… how about that.  Suddenly Cas being the man of the hour and all the surrounding oddness made sense.  Not only did Gabriel think there was something going on between you and the other angel, he was jealous about it.  Really jealous.

Holy shit.  

“Gabe, I -- we --” you held your hand up, trying to communicate how this was all some big misunderstanding.  Your nervousness, however, came across more as fear as you took a step back, trying to escape the intense swirl of energy surrounding him.  

“I get it,” he told you, the dark edge receding some from his gaze.  “We all get lonely,” he managed a casual shrug, giving you a slight smile. “We all have needs.”  He stepped forward, closing the gap you’d just created and your tongue anxiously darted out across your lower lip.  His gaze was instantly drawn to the movement, and you couldn’t help but feel like you had somehow just provoked him as slow burning heat igniting across hazel depths.  

You stepped back again, knowing the closer he was, the harder it was for you to think straight.  

“Drinks or not, I’m thinking more clearly than I ever have,” he insisted, matching your step again with one of his own.  You’d never seen his gaze like this, like a fire was lit beneath the surface, turning whiskey molten from the inside out.  His want was so palpable, crossing the space between you before kissing over your skin in heated waves that ebbed and flowed.   

“I know you don’t want him,” he continued.  “When you needed help or answers, I was the one you turned to first,” He reminded, continuing to force you back further across the room. “I was the one you called out for when famine brought you to your knees...”  

All you could do was swallow, breathe, and keep moving back...

“And you prayed for my help when your brother’s became overbearing grizzlies and wouldn’t let you out of their sight…”

… until you hit the wall, and found you had nowhere else to go.  He slowed his steps, but he didn’t stop them.  For every inch that slowly vanished, his yearning washed over you.  It sank beneath your skin, seeking out the slow burning embers of a desire you were trying very hard to keep contained.  

“I’m the one you always call for,” he murmured, voice dipping lower as his hands came up to meet the wall on both sides of you, trapping you in place.  “Because I’m the one you really want.”  

You could barely breathe he was so close, everything about him completely overwhelming you from the warmth radiating from his body to the buzzing of his energy now trapped in the small space between you, down to the way he smelled now that the scent of alcohol had diminished.

“When you’re sober, you may not want this,” you told him, searching for something to keep you anchored as you felt your resolve crumbling.  You could feel your own desire responding to his, not only growing but reaching out in response, as if trying to latch on to his sentiments and make them your own.    

He sensed the shift in you, victory glowing across features.  His lips pulled up into that trademark smirk and suddenly he was more himself than he’d seemed all night… save that manic undercurrent that still lingered in his eyes.  

“One never knows how long they’ll be here, sweetheart, so it’s often best to live in the moment,” his voice was reduced to a low rumble in the back of his throat, as that heated gaze pressed upon you.  Intuition flared, a heavy sensation taking the edge off what was happening as you realized you’d seen that look before.  

“Gabriel?” You breathed, your voice feeling heavy in your throat.

“Yes, sugar?” He replied, eyes dropping unconsciously to your lips as he wet his with anticipation.

You were almost afraid to ask, but this wasn’t some question you could just swallow.  “What do you know that I don’t?”

“Do I have to tell you?”  He purred, leaning so close his nose almost touched yours.  “Or this time can I just show you?”  

Oh sweet Jesus.  This was happening.  Gabriel was looking at you like he was going to devour every inch of you, regardless of what loomed on the horizon, and the last you checked, you were definitely not dreaming.

Knowing he wanted you was too much.  Hunger erupted, burning through you until your blood was singing through your veins for him.  Only as usual, you found yourself unable to do anything about it.  

God you were such a coward.

Your silence only encouraged him, lips tugging up on one side as he dropped his head lower.  Warmth curled over your ear as he released a slow, steady breath.  You shivered, goosebumps racing down your spine and over the back of your arms.  His lips hovered close, so close, it was like you could feel them ghosting over your skin, trailing just behind his breath as he continued to release it down along the side of your neck.  

Gabriel was doing things to you without a single touch that some men couldn’t do in an entire night.   

“You are so sensitive,” he said, voice husky with emotion.  “I’ve barely even touched you with my grace and you’re already on fire.”  

Grace.  That’s what you could feel on your skin.  You gasped as it shifted, trailing down the curve of your shoulder and dusting across your collarbone.  You didn’t even know that was possible.

Son of a bitch wasn’t playing fair.  

The breath and energy stopped for a moment, gold flashing up with question as he hovered near your throat.  You didn’t dare move.  You were torn between not wanting the madness to end and a part of you knowing that something still wasn’t quite right.  He knew something you didn’t and the hunter in you should have been pinning him against the wall and insisting that he tell you.  

Except it was too late for that.

The moment his lips brushed against you it was over.  You inhaled sharply, energy sparking across skin and skittering down through your chest.  Your heart rate spiked, beating so fast with anticipation and need if you didn’t do something soon it was going to burst.  

It would be your luck to die of a heart attack before he’d even properly kissed you.     

His mouth came down against your pulse, a distinct thrumming shooting straight into your veins.  This time it was your lungs that felt the jolt, breath seizing in them, cutting off a groan that had started in your throat.  

He was killing you.  There was no way you were going to survive this… but it sure would be one hell of way to go.

“Please let me touch you,” he pleaded, his voice strained as he pulled back slightly.  “Father, I just need to touch you.  I need you to touch me.”  

You could feel how tense his body was becoming, his arms nearly rigid.   You didn’t realize he’d been waiting for your permission.  In fact, you didn’t think Gabriel asked permission for anything.

The look of torment on his face wasn’t just about having to use restraint.  There was desperation woven into every action, every look, that went beyond pent-up desire.  You could see that now, and you found it too similar to your own feelings of loneliness that had steadily grown over the last several months.

He’s right, you realized.  You never knew what was coming and even when you did, it didn’t mean the odds were any more in your favor.  He was here now, and wasn’t that what you had wanted?  Another chance to undo one of the few regrets you could not seem to shake?

You placed a hand over his cheek, touch lightly grazing over the contour of his face.  He froze, holding so still as if afraid the slightest movement might scare you away.  His eyes slipped shut, a ragged breath releasing as you slipped your fingers into his hair, tips drinking in the unexpected softness.  How many times had you imagined being the reason this perfect part of him became mussed?  

Feeling emboldened, your other hand came up to cup his jaw, thumb tracing lightly over the faint stubble across his chin.  His eyes slowly opened again and you found yourself staring into gold capped green seas caught up in a storm neither one of you had any hope of escaping.

“Tell me that you want this,” he insisted,and the amount of restraint he used seemed on the verge of being painful.  “Or tell me to stop.  Tell me to leave.”

Tell me something his stare begged as it bore down upon you.  It took you a moment to realize he was giving you an out.  Was he having his own doubts?  The almost feral look in the darks of his eyes suggested otherwise, but he still hesitated, waiting for you along the edge of a precipice, one whose height you had no way of knowing.

Good thing you Winchesters were known for taking crazy, flying leaps.

You moved your thumb higher, touch feather-light as you traced the edge of his bottom lip.  He let out a noise caught somewhere between a groan and a growl, eyes edging further into wild territory as you continued to draw things out.  The power you were suddenly wielding was intoxicating.  

No wonder Gabriel loved to throw his around so much.  

“I want this, Gabe,” you told him, and never had you been more sure of anything in your life.  “I want you.”

And just like that, the game was over.

Your lips found his in an ungentle embrace, teeth nearly knocking as he leaned forward to meet you.  The energy in the room rose to a dizzying crescendo, your heart keeping pace until everything seem to release, within you, around you, within Gabriel himself, all the tension dissipating from his frame.  

His hands slipped beneath the folds of your jacket, eagerly running along your sides.  His fingers brushed over your ribs, teasing along the edge of your breasts, touching them without touching.  You moaned as he took hold of your mouth and sucked, pulling your lower lip between his before teeth gave a nibble.  

Palms lowered once more, over to the dip of your waist before slipping around your lower back.  His fingers stretched lower, tips digging into flesh as they continued their exploration before really cashing in that rain check of his and fully cupping you.  

In the blink of an eye, he had you off the ground, effortlessly hoisting you up.  The way your body moved was as if it were an extension of his, legs immediately wrapping around his waist as your arm slipped around his shoulder for extra support.  He nestled against you, pinning your body to the wall and freeing his hands for further exploration.  

You could barely think, your mind overwhelmed by overload of sensations.  The warmth of him pressed against you, the way his grace had pleasant jolts streaking across your body wherever it touched, the way it couldn’t compare to his actual touch, fingers drinking in the feel of your skin as it slipped beneath your sweater, leaving sparks of heat in their wake as they teased their way along the waistband of your jeans.  

“Jesus,” you breathed, arching against him when he dragged his lips down, allowing you a moment to catch your breath.  

“The name’s Gabriel,” he reminded, voice almost a growl as teeth nipped possessively at your neck.  “And that’s the only name I expect to hear from that lovely mouth of yours.”  

This was not a request, and the way he took charge only had everything inside you reaching a boiling point.  You needed to feel him against you, to feel his heat on your body, skin against skin, and neither one of you were going to be able to get out of any clothes like this.  

“Bed, now,” you commanded. You felt the briefest smile as his lips soothed over where teeth had certainly left their mark.  You grabbed his face, angling his mouth back up to yours as he pulled you away from the wall and backed slowly toward the mattress.  You couldn’t get enough of the feel of his lips, of the maddening hint of his taste as you swept your tongue across his bottom lip.

He moaned in response, so distracted with what you were doing that he didn’t realize how close you were to your destination.  The back of his legs unexpectedly hit the bed, sending you both tumbling backwards.  Instead of bouncing onto the mattress, however, you landed against something unexpectedly solid.  Your knees slammed hard against it, pain radiating through them, and by the jarring oomph beneath you, you were pretty sure Gabriel’s back had absorbed most of his impact.  

“The hell,” you muttered, eyes flying open only to find yourself in complete darkness. Your hands came in contact with something smooth, something cold, something that definitely was not your bed as you attempted to push yourself up.  The lights flickered on and suddenly you were hoping this was a dream after all.

It wasn’t possible.  Not only were you no longer in your hotel room, you weren’t even in the same town.  How you had ended up back at the Elysian Fields Hotel was beyond you, but you found yourself in the last place you ever wanted to be with Gabriel.

He was splayed out, ash rising up around him in perfect alignment with where you’d expect his wings to be.  You swallowed, eyes riveted to the prints as you realized he was in the exact same position as when he died.  

Gabe looked up, your look of panic the first thing registering as his features fell.  

“Get us out of here,” you told him, dread pooling in your stomach, making it feel heavy.  

He sat up, features hardening as he looked around.   

“Gladly,” he said and just like that, the manic edge returned.  He raised his hand and snapped once.  Twice.  Three times, before that same look of fear you’d seen almost a year ago overtook his features.  

“It’s too late.  He won’t let me leave,” he told you, cracks beginning to show in his mask.  He suddenly looked guilty.  Very guilty... and very, very sorry.

His earlier explanation came back to you and fear raced down your spine.  

Please let us still be in the present.  Please let us still be in the present.

A familiar slow-creeping dread trickled through you, the presence weighing down your insides until you felt rooted in place.  

“Tell me it’s not who I think it is,” you said, unable to give voice to the name that was the cause of so much of your pain.  

Because I can’t do this again.  

His hand came up to the side of your face, thumb stroking a path of reassurance as the sentiment slowly built in his gaze.  He opened his mouth, but whatever he said was lost over the clap of thunder that echoed across the room right before a blinding light engulfed you.  

Next Chapter>>

ALL the tags:

@girl-next-door-writes  @fand0maniac @feelmyroarrrr @omgreganlove @jannalionheart @baritonechick, @deaths-maiden @lucifer-in-leather @stone-met   @the-moose-of-baskerville @summer-binging-spn   @raspberrypuddle @ourloveisforthelovely @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @crowley-you-sinnamon-roll @tistai   @christinalibertymikaelson

Gabe Squad: 

@theblackenedsky @bloodstained-porcelain-doll @pepperwoodatnight @lacqueluster @samikitten @ludwigs-a-monster @a-vast-african-plain @onlyanothersocialcasualty @kazosa  @cobra--1972 

Full Circle: @melodyhiddleston

[n3o-nightmare]

No Matter How Hard I Try

A/N: this is langst and it might make you cry, but idk. It's 1 am and I'm listening to Three Days Grace and this came to my mind. I'm also running on no coffee. If you don't want the team to look like asshole so, you should probably scroll past this post. They aren't super awful, but there's some implications. This isn't beta'd so there may be mistakes. Word Count: Many, so many Summary: Shiro has been missing for a while now. It only took the team a few weeks to fall apart though. They fought sometimes and could hardly get anything done. They didn't know what they were going to do if Shiro wasn't found soon. All Lance had ever wanted was to be loved. He just wanted to feel like he was a part of something. Something that's a big thing. Now Lance is a paladin of Voltron, Defender of the Universe. That's a big thing, right? The training might be the worst part. Not the battles. Allura trained them all for hours on end each day and pushes the team past their limits. Today was probably the worst of the recent times, since Shiro is gone. "Keith, can you please take it a little easier?" We were sparring with Keith in the training room while Allura watched from above. Hunk and Pidge had been working on technology that might help find Shiro by scanning for the specific technology in his arm, or something like that. "Take it easy?" he questioned with venom in his voice, "Just like you've been taking it easy on your efforts to find Shiro?" Keith landed a kick to Lance's gut. Lance tried to block a punch coming for his face, but he couldn't. It felt like punches were coming at him from all angles. Keith swept Lance's legs out from under him and he was on the hard metal ground. His head hit the floor. Keith started kicking Lance while he was on the ground, not giving him a chance to even get a word out. "Please, Allura. Do something. " Lance thought. Allura, however, just watched what was unfolding before her. She did somewhat agree with Keith. Keith continued to kick Lance, even though he noticed that he was kicking harder than before. "You're not important to this team. You bring nothing to the team. You haven't been looking for Shiro as hard as the rest of us because you don't care about anyone but yourself. You think you're fucking flirty and cute but your obnoxious and no one wants to be with you! You're a piece of shit who isn't even a real part of the team!" Keith had stopped kicking Lance and stood above him. Lance was on the ground, not really being able to breathe, feeling like all of his ribs were crushed. Lance was on the ground, tears threatening to well over his eyelids. Yes, Keith had been under a lot of stress recently because of everything happening, but that didn't give him the right to do that right? And didn't Keith know what Lance had been doing? Didn't he know why Lance was always tired? Lance was always out at night in Blue searching everywhere he could in the time everyone else was asleep. He often fell asleep and Blue had to bring him back to the castle. When he didn't search at night or had fallen asleep on a search he would be plaqued with nightmares so it isn't really his fault he's tired. Lance hadn't been wearing protective padding like Keith, just the training suit. He had no protection against the blows Keith had landed. Lance gripped the wall closest to him as best he could. Lance clutched his torso, not sure which area hurt worse. "Thanks, Keith. You just confirmed my suspicions of that I'm nothing to everyone and I have no meaning to anyone. Love you too, man." Lance walked towards the door limping slightly too. He hurt all over now. It's not like he didn't deserve it though. Keith groaned in exasperation. He shouldn't have said those things. But what slightly surprised him was that Lance agreed with him. He put his hands over his face and sighed. Keith didn't know what to do anymore so he called out the training bots. Allura had seen all of what had happened and held no feelings of sadness for Lance. Shiro was gone and everyone had to do their part. Lance rounded a corner in the castle and stopped. His hand in the wall dropped and he leaned his back into the wall. It seemed secluded enough. Lance slid down the wall so he was sitting on the floor. He leaned his head back, in thought. "Why does everyone think I'm no good? What do I need to do better?" The tears Lance had been holding back flowed a little. He did wipe his cheeks with the sleeve of his jacket. "Maybe I'll go find Hunk and Pidge and see if they need any help." Lance thought and he got up, pain piercing his skull and back. He was going to have to lie down later. He had no idea where Pidge and Hunk were at all so Lance wandered the hallways of the castle again. Lance entered a room he hadn't seen before. Coral was in the room, fixing some gadget. He didn't appear to have heard Lance enter. "Hey, Coran. What are you doing?" Lance stuffed his hands in his pockets and peered down a Coran, who was on the floor. Coran jumped slightly when he heard Lance's voice. "Good gracious, my boy. You scared me. I'm just fixing a few problems with the power cells in the ship. What brings you here?" Coran pulled on the tip of his orange mustache. "I was wondering if you knew where Hunk and Pidge were? I wanted to see if the needed any help with what they were doing." Lance tried to stand up straight so that Coran wouldn't ask if anything was wrong. "I believe that they are in the bridge, or the control room. Is something the matter, my boy?" Coran put down his tools and stood up so he was talking directly at Lance. "No, nothing I can't handle by myself," Lance dropped his voice, "as always. Thanks for helping me Coran! I'll see you later." Coran shrugged and went back to his work once Lance walked out. Lance walked down the hallways, once again. He made it to the control room, and sure enough, found Pidge and Hunk. They were huddled over a computer that looked like the one Pidge had back at the Garrison. Small parts were scattered around them. "Hey, guys. Do you need any help?" Lance asked. "Why would I want your help with this? And weren't you sparring with Keith?" Pidge bluntly said. "And watch where you're stepping. I need all these parts for the scanner." "Yeah, sorry Lance. We don't really need any help at all with this one. Why don't you go back to fighting?" Hunk turned back to working, "That's the only thing you're good at anyways." Pidge laughed at the comment Hunk made. They fist bumped and laughed more. Lance forced a laugh out, trying to ignore the amount of hurt it caused to see them acting so close. Hunk was supposed to be Lance's Best Friend. Lance turned around and walked out of the control room and felt his eyes get wet again. It felt like everyone was betraying him. He just wanted someone to understand how he felt. "Why is it that no matter how hard I try, people always seem to be disappointed in me? Why do I never measure up?" Lance whispered these thoughts to himself as he walked towards his room. He didn't wxoecy to be stopped in the hallway, much less by Allura. "Oh. Hey, Allura. What's up with you?" Lance tried to smile. It turned into more of a grimace though. Lance definitely didn't expect to be slapped by Allura. Lance moved to the side, careening into the wall for the umpteenth time of the day. His hand flew to the side of his face, stinging cheek and all. Lance could still feel Allura's hand on his face, even though she stood infront of him, hands clenched into fists by her side. "How can you say what's up? I wish you could see that every problem that the team has is because of you! Shiro is gone and it's your fault!" Allura reached to slap Lance again, but he caught her wrist mid-air. "You think I don't know that? Do you think I can't tell the way that everyone looks at me like I'm someone expendable? I know I'm expendable and don't do anything for this team. I know that, Allura! I know I'm useless!" Lance's voice had been raising steadily throughout his speech. Allura's eyes had gotten wider as well. "I know you love Shiro. You think I don't want to find him? Look at the hangar security tapes. I've been working twice as hard as all of you, but I get torn down for everything I do. I guess you don't know I have feelings too. In fact, I love someone, but it's obvious they don't love, even like, me back. I would give everything to have one day with them, but I can't." Lance let go of Allura's wrist and continued to walk towards his room, taking shaky breaths as he walked, legs burning and ankles swelling from training. Allura stood speechless in the middle of the hallway, watching Lance walk away, until he rounded the corner as disappeared from view. Allura had no idea that that would be the result of her anger. Lance finally made it to his room, the door opening smoothly. "Looks like the tinkering I did paid off. The one thing that has." Lance thought. He was just now starting to feel all of the pain that had been caused throughout the day. He walked into is bathroom to asses the damage. His right ankle was swelling to enormous size and left shoulder from where it had hit the wall was beginning to bruise. Lance removed his jacket and shirt, toeing off his shoes at the same time. Lance hissed at the stretching no of his muscles that were very much not okay. His torso was littered with bruises, and there certainty was some misformed bones now. "Fuck you, Keith. Why are you always so rough?" Lance let out a small chuckle. He decided if he laid down, he would feel better. However, gravity had other plans for him. He didn't make it to his bed, collapsing onto the ground with pants on. It was nighttime when Lance woke up again. He was still on the cold, hard floor. The rom was dark and hostile. Shadows seemed to antagonize at every move. Lance moved to get up, and he noticed that there was no pain. He had no more bruises or anything. Lance walked towards his door. He went into the hallway, where it was even darker than his room. He didn't have a light, so he had to feel his way a long the wall. Almost inaudible, a voice started to speak from the darkness. It was Shiro's voice. "Shiro? Is that you?" Lance smiled and ran off into the direction of Shiro's voice, hearing it get louder. He rounded corners, piercing the black veil of darkness to find the source of the voice. "Lance? Is that you? Where are you?" Shiro's voice was almost perfectly clear. "Just one not turn." Lance thought. But, when Lance rounded the corner, he saw nothing. Then two claps rang out through the air. Allura's hands were in the air. Lights came on all around the hallways. Lance looked up towards Allura and saw the other paladins there as well. Shiro stood between them all, his arm around Allura. "So nice do you to join us Lance. I was beginning y worry we'd lost you too." Shiro said sarcastically. He lifted an eyebrow and gestured with his unoccupied nad to the paladins around him, "They were all here on time." "What do you mean? I was unconscious on my floor. I had no idea y'all were here. I would have been first otherwise." Keith rolled his eyes, "Yeah right. You're not first for anything. You fall behind. You shouldn't even be here." "I was chosen. I was chosen by Blue. I deserve to be here as much as y'all do." Lance was the only one who appeared to share this thought though. "Can you tell me why you were chosen then? What makes you special? Why do you /deserve/ to be here?" Shiro jabbed his metal finger in the direction of Lance. "I can't do that." "Why not? It's a simple enough question." "Look, I just don't know. I don't exactly think I'm special either, but I'm trying my hardest. "Then I have no choice. I have to do what's best for the team, and you're not part of that. Hunk, grab him." Shiro ordered Hunk and pushed a button on the wall, causing the air lock chamber doors to open. "No. No. No. No. No. You can't do that. Hunk, buddy, you can't do this." Lance was panicking, having flashbacks to the last time he was in one of these and almost died. He started hyperventilating, shaking, and sweating. "Actually, we can. It is statistically it will be better if you are no long on the team." Pidge said matter of factly. Hunk tossed Lance into the room and closed the doors. Lance ran up to the doors and banged on the windows. He tried to smash the glass, but it would not budge. The countdown started from 5. Lance stopped banging on the glass and looked at Keith. Keith looked back at him and made eye contact. Lance pleaded, but at the last second made a small smile form on his lips. Then Lance woke up, in a cold sweat, on the actual metal floor. It was only and hour before breakfast, more or less. Lance hadn't realized he'd been in his room all night. "It was just a nightmare." Lance thought. This one had been much more vivid than the last ones he had experienced. Lance moved his hand, and felt water on the ground. He then reached up to his face and felt wet lines going down his face. Lance had been crying. Lance thought about all of the recent days events and groaned. He really didn't know what to do other than to make things easier for everyone, except him. He thought that was the best solution. Lance nodded his head up and down and went back into the bathroom. Lance washed his face so n one had to see the tears he had cried. Then Lance reached into one of the drawers. And took out the single blade razor his father had used once. He put the razor down on his wrist. "No one wants me around anyway. What's the point?" Lance thought before pushing down. The edge drew a line down his wrist and up his arm slightly. He did the same with the other arm. Lance stumbled out to the bedroom part of his room. His knees became weak and he fell to the floor. Keith was wondering where Lance was. Lance was never late to breakfast. "Has anyone seen Lance this morning? I need to say something." Keith asked a round the room. Pidge and Hunk shook their heads no, Allura said no and Coran said he hadn't seen him since the day before. "Actually come to think of it, neither have I," Hunk said. "Same," replied Pidge. No one had seen Lance since yesterday. "I think we should look for him." Keith said while standing up. "Why? You were mad at him yesterday." Allura said. "I think we should too, Princess," Coran joined in. He got up with Keith and Pidge and Hunk followed suit. Allura was the last to stand up, but eventually went looking too. "I'll look in his bedroom, Pidge looks in the control room, Hunk you look in the kitchen, Coran you look in rooms you fixed recently. Princess, you look in the training area. Let's go." Keith turned around and began walking towards Lance's bedroom. He half-jogged to get to Lance's room faster. He got to the door and knocked. "Lance, it's me. Keith. I have something to tell you." Keith thought it was weird that Lance want answering his door, though given what happened yesterday, it would be surprising if he answered his door. Keith did open the door anyway. Keith saw Lance in the floor, laying motionless. He rushed over to his side, seeing the blood. Lance had written out 'I'm sorry' in blood. "No, you're not allowed to die. You just aren't." Keith picked up Lance's form, putting an arm under his knees and around his shoulders. He ran with the brunet's body in his arms. He could feel the slight breathing, shallow in and out. He got Lance to the medbay and set up one of the healing pods. He stuck Lance in one of them and went to get the rest of the team. Keith found Allura first. She gasped when she saw the blood. "Don't worry, he's alive, mostly. I put him in of the pods. We need to find everyone else." Keith led Allura towards the door of the room she was searching and went to get everyone else. The all arrived in the medbay and saw Lance in the pod. They all felt like this was their fault. Allura suddenly spoke up. "Lance wanted me to look at the hangar security footage. He said that would explain somethings." So Pidge pulled it up. It showed Lance getting into Blue and leaving the hangar, getting back later, sometimes not reemerging. They showed Lance looking for Shiro when no one else was. They all were wrong about him. Lance emerged from the pod 3 days later. Keith was the only one in the room because he never left. Keith got up to catch Lance as he fell from the pod, smirking at the memories. "So, you said you had something to say?" Lance was cocky and like himself. He smiled a small one, but it was real. "That can wait. Why did you do it?" Keith's voice was lined with concern. "I guess I was causing too many problems. I was tired." Lance put his head down, leaning onto Keiths shoulder. "You're not a problem to me. You're perfect and deserve the world." "Sure I do, Keith." "I'm being serious, and I'm hoping, that pull forgive me and maybe let me give you the world?" Lance's cheeks flushed to a darker red than Keith's jacket. He nodded against Keith's neck, a yes. Everyone else came into the medbay at that moment. "I knew I heard a voice!" Pidge exclaimed. They all ran over to Lance and Keith. Allura hugged them, and then Hubk and Pidge and Coran joined, creating a group hug. "We are so so so so sorry Lance. We wont do this ever again." Allura was the one to speak, the other just squeezed tighter. For the firstborn time in a long while, Lance had what he always wanted. He felt loved. He was wanted. He wa safe. And he was never going to let go again.

[blatherkatt]

Title: The Calm Is Terrifying When The Storm Is All You Know [Homestuck]

Chapter 6: 3/20, Part 2

Summary: There were two kinds of trolls who went to Earth: rich shitheads with too much money and free time, and desperate assholes who couldn’t survive on Alternia, even with the best efforts of the young Condesce. Karkat hated the planet almost immediately, but with his home planet too dangerous for mutants, he really didn’t have any choice but to hide out on this weird little diurnal planet. At least he’d be safe. Or so he thought, right before blundering his way into an accidental friendship with the son of an anti-troll terrorist.

Rating: M

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of neglect and abuse, mentions of terrorist activities, violence, blood (very minor); Illustrated

FIRST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

Dave stretched out on the futon and flicked on the TV, letting himself relax a little for the first time in ages. There was no sign of Bro, and the window had been open, a sure sign he was out somewhere (Bro never left using the main stairs or even through the maintenance hall like Dave sometimes did — as far as the owners of this apartment complex knew, Dave was the only person living in this unit, and Bro went to great lengths to keep it that way. Always did, every time they moved to a new apartment.), which was awesome, because the guy had been watching Dave like a fuckin’ hawk with a grudge for six damn days now.  

“Karkat, you sure you don’t wanna come out?” he called. “He’s definitely gone, and I mean, I don’t know when he’s gonna be back, exactly, so you can’t be out here for long, but my bedroom and the bathroom can’t be the best scenery in the long term, man. Stretch your legs or whatever.”

“I am not testing my luck, fuck you, I’m staying right here,” Karkat called back.

“Suit yourself, man,” Dave shrugged. He flicked through a few channels. Nothing on right now but reruns, damn.

He spent about an hour watching the kind of shitty movie he’d normally be all over, happily riffing it to shreds on his own, but there was something restless in him today, he couldn’t get into it. It was starting to piss him off. He heaved a sigh as the protagonist blundered through another incredibly forced scene, and reached for the remote again, clicking through a few more channels.

It was the news that made him freeze. Normally he didn’t give too much of a shit, except, holy fuck, that was Bro, was this live?!

It was, it was absolutely live, holy shit. Bro was…was fighting some poor fucker on a rooftop, and there were police around, and that explosion meant that some of the Usuals were probably around, too, and Dave knew that building, it was like an hour away the way Bro travelled, even if he stopped fighting right the fuck now he’d need an hour to get back —

Karkat. He could — an hour was plenty of fucking time, he could grab some cash, bustle Karkat onto the nearest city bus and tell him to keep bushopping until the money was gone, come back and beat himself up and trash the place so it’d look like a jailbreak, this was the best fucking chance he’d have, holy shit —

Dave snapped out of his reverie with a jolt. Right, he needed to act right the fuck now, this was not the time to be zoning out about getting shit done, this was the time to actually get shit done. With probably the second or third least dignified scuffle of his life, Dave bolted back for his room and shoved the door open (it was unlocked, since Bro wasn’t here). Karkat nearly jumped out of his skin, but Dave didn’t have time to laugh or apologize or what the fuck ever, this was now or goddamn never —

“Dave, what the fuck?!” Karkat started, but Dave shook his head.

“I’m getting you out of here,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Like, right now, we gotta go right the fuck now.”

“Are — are you serious? Now?!”

“Dude, Bro’s like an hour away, this might be the only shot we have, c’mon!” Dave grabbed a jacket out of his closet (force of habit; he didn’t have any long sleeved shirts right now, and didn’t like attracting attention to the scars on his arms from bad strifes, so it didn’t matter if it was hot out, he was wearing a jacket) and picked up his sword (also a force of habit), tugging Karkat after him as he hurried out of the room.

“What — holy shit, Dave, okay, I get it, we gotta hurry, but do you even have a plan?!”

“Yeah, it’s called get you on a fuckin’ bus right this damn second. I’ll make it look like you fought your way out and stole a buncha cash, you just gotta keep bus hopping ’til you’re as far outta Houston as you can get, alright? You know how to ride a bus, right? Shit,” Dave said, grabbing a bunch of bills out of the stash Bro always kept in the kitchen, in that one cabinet you had to open super carefully to avoid getting buried in knives (Dave was a pro at raiding it by now, albeit usually for enough money to buy a sandwich, not a bus trip to the other side of the planet).

“I mean, I’ve ridden one before, yeah, it didn’t seem that complicated —”

“But do you know how to read the bus schedules and pay for your fare and shit, dude? Ugh, nevermind, I gotta show you where the nearest bus stop is, anyway, I’ll show you when we get there.” He shoved the wad of bills into his jeans pocket and grabbed Karkat around the wrist. “C’mon, we’re taking the elevator this time, no time for the damn stairs.”

Karkat followed after him, sporadically bursting out with hushed complaints. Dave barely noticed most of them. His own internal monologue was going so fast that he had no doubt his mouth wouldn’t have been able to keep up if he tried, but was still making some sort of effort. He was probably muttering all kinds of nonsense right now, but who cared, who cared? The elevator dinged down way too damn slow, and as soon as it touched the bottom floor, Dave grabbed Karkat again and steered him towards another back entrance of the apartment complex, this one leading into a slightly different backstreet than the one Karkat had been smuggled in by. Dave always got pretty familiar with back alleys whenever Bro moved them to a new place; it was a good idea to know some other ways of getting around, just in case. These ones weren’t totally familiar to him, but the bus stop was near enough, he was sure…

Karkat stopped short as soon as they were out the door, throwing Dave off his stride. “Wait,” said Karkat, tugging Dave back to look at him.

“Dude, the fuck? We gotta hurry, man, what do you —”

“You should — you should come with me,” he said, and the fuckin’ sincerity in his bigass eyes was the only thing that kept Dave from laughing. “I know, you’ve got some idea that you can’t leave,” he continued, before Dave could recover enough to respond, “but, come the fuck on, let’s be real, you’re just as much of a fucking prisoner here as I am, and I don’t know jack shit about Earth transportation. We’ll stand a way better chance if we leave together!”

“I…” Part of Dave wanted to, recognized that he was at least right about the troll having a better chance with a guide who knew how buses worked, but that part got shut down immediately by the thought of Ben, staring down at him with sad eyes — “I can’t,” Dave said. “I told you, I can’t abandon him, he’s…he’s family, dude, I’m all he has.”

Karkat growled, an odd, clicky sound not entirely like any growl Dave had ever heard but unmistakeable nonetheless, and rolled his eyes. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Dave! I don’t know why the fuck you think he needs you, all he has or not, but I’m pretty fucking sure he’ll be just fine. You won’t be, though, and I sure as fuck won’t be!”

“‘I won’t?’ The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, come the fuck on,” Karkat said, “you’re the one who told me when we first fucking met that you weren’t sure he wouldn’t kill you —”

“I was joking, dude,” Dave hissed. “He wouldn’t, I’m family, I’m his goddamned son and I can take anything he can dish out just fuckin’ fine!”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a big tough grub and all that hoofbeastshit. God, would you fucking look at yourself?! You’re half starved, beat up to hell and back, and he scares the shit out of you! This — whatever the fuck family means to you, this can’t be worth it!”

“The fuck do you know? You’re a god damn alien!”

“Yeah, and this fucking alien can see that this isn’t right, why the fuck can’t you?! Just shut up and come with me, you insufferable, pan-baked shitheaded —”

—A sound, high above, halfway through Karkat’s ranting. Dave couldn’t identify it, at this distance, not through Karkat’s voice. “Karkat, wait—”

“No, I’m not done! We’re both completely fucked in this situation, and you’re quite frankly fucking obnoxious, but sticking together is the best chance we mmfmpph mmpfpgh!!” Dave slapped a hand over Karkat’s mouth, hissing through his teeth.

“I heard something, shut the fuck up, I think something might have noticed us—”

That was a sound Dave knew all too well. Shattering glass, followed by a shadow passing overhead. Shit. Shit, shit, shit shit shitshitshitshit—

Dave shoved Karkat down the shadowed street. “Someone’s following us. Something, I don’t know, we gotta go, now, run!” he hissed. Karkat’s eyes somehow got even wider, and he nodded, tearing off after Dave as best he could. Dave didn’t run as fast as he could, even though he wanted to, fuck, but he couldn’t lose Karkat in the maze back here.

Stopping short and whirling around, he yanked the wad of cash out of his pocket and shoved it into Karkat’s hands, who’d stopped, wheezing, just after Dave did.

“You’re gonna wanna go straight, then left, then straight again, jump the little fence, and then just go towards the light and you’ll be right out by the bus stop,” Dave said, his words running into each other with how fast he was talking. “Take the first bus that shows up, the guy’ll probably tell you how to pay, you’ll have to get someone to show you how to read the schedules, just —”

“I’m not leaving without you,” Karkat hissed. Dave could hear how scared the poor guy was, fucking Christ.

“Look, if this is one of Bro’s guys, I got a way better chance of not dying than you do, none of them would kill me and risk pissing Bro off. I can hold ‘em off, but you gotta run. I’ll be fine, promise, alright?”

“No, fuck no!”

Dave groaned. “Holy shit, you stubborn jackass, you’re going to die if you don’t leave!”

“Come with me, then! Make sure I don’t! Like you said, I’m a fucking alien, how am I gonna survive on my own, huh? But if you come with me, we’ll both be free, and —”

A trash can tumbled over, making both boys jump. Dave slid into a fighting stance and drew his sword, shoving Karkat with his elbow as he did. “Fine, Jesus, I’ll catch up with you if I’m able!Run, Karkat, just run!” It was a lie. It was a bitter lie he had no intention of keeping, but that’d be alright, as long as Karkat got out of here.

The troll swallowed hard, nodded, and ran.

Dave didn’t watch him go. He turned his eyes back the way they’d come from, glaring into the shadows.

“Alright, whoever the fuck you are, let’s cut the shit and have ourselves a nice little chat, huh? No more of this bullshit sneaking around.”

He was answered by a pair of glowing red eyes, a distressing animal noise he didn’t recognize at all, and the growing sound of two pairs of running feet somewhere more distant, coming this way.

Well, shit, today just kept getting better, didn’t it?

He didn’t initially get a good look at what it was that jumped at him. It was a flash of white, something about the size of a German Shepherd, but whatever it was had claws and managed to slash small cuts across his eyebrow and the bridge of his nose. He shoved it away with the flat of his sword, and took a swipe at it, only for it to quickly roll away and hiss at him.

That. That was a dragon.

That was an actual fucking dragon, what the fuck.

Hissing and spitting, the dragon circled warily, its tail creeping up to its side, and oh shit, oh shit that thing was wearing a police uniform, were the police hiring dragons now what the fuck??

Red and blue lights strobed and flashed, casting harsh shadows on the narrow, shadow walls of the back street. Shit. Did this count as getting seen by the police, Dave wondered. He could hear Bro’s voice now, he was going to be fuckin’ crucified for this, oh God —

The approaching footsteps caught up, finally. Good news: two trolls, definitely not Bro’s goons. Bad news: They were definitely with the police. Probably that weird hybrid police officer-slash-Alternia whatchamacallit Dave had heard about. One of them fired off some rapid Alternian to the dragon, which turned its head and then, abruptly, lunged at Dave — no, lunged over Dave, managing a short glide despite the narrowness of the alley. The other troll, the one that hadn’t spoken, moved to follow it. Dave did his best to block their way, but his blade failed to connect, blocked instead by another.  The second troll got by just fine and followed after the dragon.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” said the troll who’d spoken.  She had a cane and dark red glasses — shit, was she blind?  Except her cane was apparently a sword cane — two sword canes, in fact, wow, that was just fuckin’ excessive. “We have some questions for you, citizen,” the troll said, grinning with a mouth full of fuckin’ knives, hot damn. “You’re under arrest, I’m afraid,” she finished.

Dave shoved her away as best he could, flashstepping back a couple feet. “Like hell I am,” he said. He moved to chase after the dragon and the other officer — shit, maybe it’d be better to just let them catch Karkat, the guy hadn’t done anything wrong, but Dave still needed to run —

He quickly found himself making introductions with the ground. The troll had tossed one of her blades so that it spun like a propeller, knocking into Dave’s ankles and sending him off balance. He was almost instantly back on his feet, though; plenty of practice getting knocked around had taught him how to get back up quickly. The troll used the time to get around him, though, blocking off his escape.

He could head back toward the building, he guessed, except, no, that’d be leading the fucking police right to the apartment, shit. He had to fight her, then. He had no idea how the fuck he was getting out of this, but, whatever, they had three swords between them and an obvious conflict of interests, so, alright, fine, let’s go, let’s fucking go, it’s on like Donkey Kong with a —

No time for that. Blades clashed in the alley, hard; sparks flew off to the side and Dave felt the force of the blow rattling up his left forearm in that painful tinge that warned that his old wrist injury was not going to make this easy. He brushed it off, tried to meet her blows — fuck, this was no fair, she was dual wielding, but that was alright, he was used to fighting people with way more experience and all kinds of unfair advantages, he could figure it out on the fly. No big deal.

(Of course, that other person was always Bro, and Dave had never once beaten him, but. Whatever. He’d be okay, he’d figure it out —)

Clash, again. There was blood in his eye, fuck, that scratch from the little dragon was affecting his vision, and the alley was dark and all he’d eaten today was half a bag of Doritos, fuck —

Clash, clash, clash, a feint here, a swipe there, his hands were getting sweaty and the time was ticking away, there wasn’t enough room to maneuver well in this fucking backstreet, everything was awful, Christ, he had to get out of here before —

Before he lost his balance again, yeah, exactly like that. Crashed to the ground, winded from again bony-ass elbow right to the goddamn diaphragm, aware vaguely of his shades clattering off to the side and his sword crashing out of his grip.

He didn’t get a chance to get up again this time. The troll pressed her boot against his chest, tipped one of the blades against his throat, and grinned.

“You’re under fucking arrest.”  

“Yeah, I got that.”

“Fine, Jesus! I’ll catch up with you if I’m able! Run, Karkat, just run!”  

Karkat felt some of his breath forced out at Dave’s elbow digging into his ribs, and he stumbled. He looked back, a retort on his tongue, but…

His pump biscuit felt like it was hammering at his throat in some desperate attempt to leave his body.

There was nothing he could do, Karkat realized; he was nowhere near as fast as these crazy flickery humans, he didn’t even have a weapon.

Feeling like an even bigger coward than he had the day he’d agreed to leave Alternia, Karkat swallowed hard, nodded solemnly to Dave, and ran. He didn’t believe Dave for a fucking second, but maybe…

He’d…he’d find a way to help, he thought as he ran. He could…Terezi! He could get Terezi, she was some sort of weird hybrid legislacerator, right? If anyone could rescue Dave, she could! He’d get away like Dave said, then find a computer or a phone and get Terezi, tell her everything he knew, where he’d been, and she could get Dave away from Strider.

(It was a desperate hope, but thanks to how much of his energy was being syphoned into breathing and keeping his legs moving as fast as he fucking could, he didn’t register how completely insane a chance the entire thought was. Besides, the thought that maybe he could find a way  to get Dave out alive was the only thing keeping guilt from completely tearing him apart.)

It wasn’t until he was confronted with a great stone wall that Karkat realized he’d taken a wrong turn.

Shit. Shit, he couldn’t risk backtracking, shit — someone was coming, oh God, he had to hide, there was a big metal trash receptacle that he could duck behind and pray whoever was after him didn’t spot him, he dove for cover and wrapped his arms over his head, as the clicking sound of his pursuer grew ever louder —

He screeched as a heavy weight landed on him, knocking him over backwards. He started to fight, tried to push it off — and as soon as his arms were away from his face, something long, damp, and slightly sticky dragged across his cheek.

“Augh, what the fuck —” he blinked, completely disbelieving. No…No way. “Pyralspite?! There is no fucking way - how the fuck!?”  The little dragon trilled, her entire body wiggling, and licked Karkat’s face again. She had on some sort of little black outfit, and these strobing red and blue lights flashed, lighting up the dead end Karkat had bumbled into, but there was no doubt, this was definitely Pyralspite.

“Holy shit,” Karkat breathed. All the tension suddenly left him at once, and he flopped flat against the ground. “Holy fucking shit,” he said. Another deep breath, and he switched to Alternian, saying, “Pyralspite, I have no idea how the fuck you’re here, but I have never been so happy to get licked in the face in my entire life. Oh, my God…Is Terezi nearby? Can you — wait, who’s coming? Shit, get off me, get off, God dammit you dumbass dragon get the fuck off me.”

A new pair of footsteps was echoing closer off the walls. Pyralspite trilled again, but did finally hop off of Karkat (only after licking his face one last time, gross).  Around the corner came…a troll, thank fuck, it was a troll; an oliveblood in some sort of costume that looked enough like Terezi’s uniform for Karkat to assume that they knew her.

“Hey,” they said, “you the friend Pyrope came looking for?”

“Uh, probably?” Karkat answered. “I mean…that’d make sense, actually, yeah. Yeah, I am, holy fuck can you please get me out of here.”

The oliveblood chuckled gently. “That’s what we’re here for, kid,” they said. “C’mon, we got an extra squad car on the way, we’ll get you somewhere safe.”

Exhaustion hit him like a red-hot right hook to the bone bulge, and for several exhausted, stumbling minutes, he silently allowed the troll to guide him. Karkat never thought he’d be glad to see sunlight, but fuck, getting out of the shadows of those buildings was a relief.

Less of a relief was the sound that greeted his ears from a little ways up the street. Two police cars were parked next to each other, and he could see Terezi, twirling a folded pair of sunglasses, along with two human officers, who were struggling with a very vocal, very familiar human teen.

“Fuckin’ — I know my damn rights, fuck you, fuck all of you, I’m not going and you can’t make me!”

“You have the right —”

“I wasn’t doin’ anythin’ wrong, y’all got nothin’ on me, this is horseshit, y’hear? I will bust the fuck out of this bullshit, goddamn army couldn’t hold me —”

“You have the —”

“At least give me my fuckin’ shades back, holy shit, let me have some damn dignity.”

“Nope!” cackled Terezi, as one of the human cops finally managed to shove Dave into the car.

“You have the right to remain silent,” wheezed the human cop, slamming the door shut. Karkat could see Dave sticking his tongue out at the officer through the window. Karkat swore under his breath and ran toward them, ignoring the shout of surprise from the oliveblood.

“Terezi, wait!” Karkat shouted. More running was the last thing his legs wanted to do right now, but fuck it, he wasn’t about to — yeah, he’d hoped to get Terezi involved, but he’d wanted Dave rescued, not fucking arrested!

Too late, Terezi turned toward Karkat. The car with Dave inside was already pulling out and driving off. Karkat caught a glimpse of Dave’s face as it sped away.

Without the shades, reading him was like a damn book, and the fear in Dave’s eyes made something in Karkat break.

“Geez, Karkat,” Terezi was saying. “It’s just like you to get kidnapped at the worst possible time. The good ole’ Vantas curse strikes again, huh?” She was grinning, teasing; Karkat was sure she probably did mean some of it on some level, but the tone of her voice made it clear that relief for Karkat’s safety overrode any irritation she might actually feel.

Karkat didn’t have time to care, even if he was really, really fucking glad to see her. “Terezi, you can’t — you can’t let them prosecute him, he’s not a bad guy!”

Terezi raised an eyebrow. “He wasn’t exactly acting innocent,” she said. “You okay there, Karkat? Because he tried to stop me from rescuing you. With a sword.”

“Well, yeah, of course he did,” Karkat said. “He’s been like, fucking conditioned to not trust the police or something, probably, I wouldn’t put that past that Strider bastard. Speaking of whom, that’s who you should be blaming for this!  He didn’t want to fucking grubnap me, but Strider fucking forced him to either do that or kill me, and the fact that I’m alive should clue you in to which he chose! He fucking — he was trying to help me escape, he thought we were getting chased by some of Strider’s goons!”

“Holy shit,” said the oliveblood. “You seriously got taken by one of Strider’s men and survived?”

“I don’t know that I’d call him one of Strider’s men,” said Karkat. “More like actually taken hostage by Strider him fucking self, and it’s only thanks to Dave that I’m goddamn alive, which is why you shouldn’t be arresting him! He’s not dangerous, he’s just a scared fucking kid!”

“Wait,” Terezi said, her smile dropping. “Da-did you say his name was Dave?”

“Yeah?” Karkat said. “I don’t get how that’s important right now, but —”

“His name is Dave,” said Terezi.

“Yes, I’ve said that like three times now, Terezi, fuck.”

“And he lives with Strider.”

The oliveblood made a sound that gave Karkat the impression of choking on air.

“Yeah…?” Karkat was really getting confused, but apparently this meant something to Terezi.

“Holy shit,” Terezi muttered after a long moment. “Holy…holy shit, that was him, holy —” She didn’t wait around to explain anything to Karkat. Instead, she turned on her heel and practically ripped open the passenger side door on the remaining police car, snatching fiercely at a small radio on the dashboard. “This is Pyrope, calling in —”

“There you are, fuck! It was a damn catastrophe over here, everything went sour, the guy was onto us from the —”

“Yeah, I know, I heard you all bitching about it earlier. That’s not the issue at hand, though! Dirk, where is Dirk?”

“Uh, he sustained some minor injuries, and we’re letting him rest since he seems pretty shaken up, so…”

“I need him back at the precinct. Tell him to get back to the precinct,” she hissed.

“What, now?”

“No, sometime in the next month, we can arrange a fucking tea party. Yes, now!!”

“Uh…we’ll tell him, sure.”

The other end went silent. Terezi sat back and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Dave fucking Strider, Jesus Christ,” she muttered.

“Is there something I’m missing here?” Karkat said.

“It’s —” Terezi was interrupted by static on the police radio.

“Look, Pyrope, the kid’s had a long day. I can see him from here, he looks fuckin’ exhausted, and I really don’t think he’s up for this right now. Let’s let him rest a bit longer, huh?”

“God dammit, Powers,” Terezi barked, practically screaming, “You tell him to get his mopey fuckin’ ass back to the station now, damn you! This can’t wait! I don’t care how bad he got his feelings hurt, you get him back there!” Terezi dropped the radio and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Jesus Christ,” she said, “I get Dave fucking Strider in our custody after three damn years and his fuckin’ brother’s off brooding on me! Fuckin’ typical.”