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verus-veritas · 3 years

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Legacy

Revenge, Technology, Mind Transference, with a dash of unrequited love. What’s not to love? /Verus

"Dude! P-please! I'm sorry! Whatever you think I've done, it must all be a mistake!" Andew yelled, thrashing against his confinements and eyeing the only point of exit in the room. His firm muscles were wet and taut against his clothes, and his handsome face flush red with terror and worry.

"Are you really sorry though? It didn't seem like it from the way you acted during Gavin's funeral. The sneers and laughter you made as his parents said their final words to him..." I said, hiding in the shadows. Only my feet and the contours of my body was visible for him to see.

"N-no offense. I just found it funny when the parents said they wish he'd atleast gotten a girlfriend before he passed away-" The same devious sneer returned on his perfectly handsome face, as he most likely remembered the scene in his head.

"Of course you found it funny. Because you knew he was completely gay. Gay, and had a massive crush on you for ages. He literally worshipped the ground you walked on, and spent most of his waking hours wishing he could be with you." I explained, slowly walking around him as I pulled out a flimsy latex cap with electronical nodes attached to it.

"And I let him. I did no wrong." Andrew talked back. His eyes following my figure until I stood directly behind him.

"No! You lead him on, made him believe you were actually interested in him. And then you destroyed him. You are the reason he ran out of the house crying, and you are the reason he didn't see the truck speeding towards him!" My voice was shaking as I quickly slapped the cap onto his head, accidentally pulling out a few strands of his hair.

"Ouuch! Get this thing off me!" He shook his head and began thrashing about again.

"You know. He really loved you... He said he was going to make you the happiest man on earth. Showering you with gifts and undying love, and be by your side forever and ever. That's why he trusted you so wholeheartedly and let you do whatever you wanted."

"Naive..." He quietly muttered under his breath.

"He was even fine with you staring and drooling over other girls. As long as he could stay by your side."

"What a fag..." I could hear him gritting his teeth.

"But that evening when you invited him over, only to have him find you in the bedroom hooking up with a random girl... that completely ruined him. You shattered his dream, his self-confidence, and his sensitive soul! He didn't know what to do and where to go, which is why he ran straight out into the traffic..." My voice was uncontrollably going up and down now, as I was unable to hide my emotions.

"Dude only had himself to blame. He should've known I only had him around for the free stuff he bought for me." Andrew snickered, as he looked down at the expensive shorts Gavin had bought for him a few weeks prior.

"How dare you!" I tried to punch his shoulder, but knew I was too weak to do any real damage against his hard muscles.

"Y'know... it almost sounds like you had feelings for him- Wait a minute! You're that pastry white kid that always walked around with him aren't you?! Hah! 'Ghost boy' we called you!" The tone in his voice shifted - with more confidence and arrogance. Back to the way he normally talked - a manipulative bastard at heart. "I see. So you best friend Gavin never had feelings for you, and now that he's gone you blame yourself for not having stopped him."

"......" I clenched my hands till my knuckles turned white.

"Hah! Maybe you really were a horrible friend. Have you thought about that you might be the reason he's dead?" He laughed, obviously enjoying the way he was toying with my feelings.

"...you have no idea..." I mumbled, as tears began to flow down my cheeks.

"Maybe you should be the one sitting in this chair - tied up and wearing this stupid cap on your head. Hehe."

I took a deep breath and calmed myself, before walking around him once again and turning so he could see me. See the real me... one last time. "I will. Soon."

"W-what do you mean with that? And why are you also wearing that ridiculous cap?" He asked. His tone in voice once again becoming panicked and anxious.

"You see. The reason why I'm so pale is because I spend so much time at home playing with my inventions and devices. Coding is one of my favorite things to do. And for the last few months I've relentlessly been working on creating this device we're both wearing right now. It was originally only meant to be used on you, recoding the patterns in your brain into loving Gavin as much as he loved you. While also erasing all of your bad traits and turning you into his ideal boyfriend... but there's no reason for that anymore, is there? So, I upgraded it into 2.0, which can now be used with two people."

"P-pff... yeah right... and what does this new version do then?"

"It can transfer the consciousness between two human brains. Even recoding the brain into believing the new consciousness have always been in control of its own body. All the memories, habits, and even muscle memory will be easily accessible to the new permanent owner." I explained, as I began fiddling with a machine by our side. The nodes on our caps lit up.

"Permanent?! Wait a minute. Let's say all of this freaky sci-fi stuff is actually real, what's going to happen to my consciousness?" Andrew asked, as he began to get more anxious by the beeping sound of the nodes on his head.

"All gone. Overwritten by mine. Erased out of existence with no way of restoring it." I answered nonchalantly. Flicking the last switched around, the device was now ready to be activated.

"What the fuck! Then you're basically killing me?! Get me out of here, you sick freak!" He began violently thrashing against the back of the chair, and flung his head around to get the latex cap off... but to no avail.

"Am I really though? Your memories, your body, and your relationships will all still be here, under my complete control. I'm just... discarding a small part of you that's no longer necessary."

"No...no... Help! HELP! SOMEONE!! THIS CRAZY MOTHERFUCKER IS GOING TO KILL ME!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, but the soundproofed walls would do him no good.

I flicked the final switch and walked over to him as the machine began buzzing. Standing in front of him, I suddenly sat down on his lap and grabbed hold of his face. I stared into his fearful yet piercing blue eyes and slid my hands across the cheeks and contours of his face.

"This beautiful face of yours that Gavin loved, I promise I'll take good care of it and cherish it until the day I die. It's the least I can do to honor my friend Gavin." I leaned forward and gently laid a kiss on his sweaty forehead, while holding him in place as he screamed for all he was worth.

"No! Noo! NOoO-Uoogguuughhhh" His scream turned into a gurgle as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. At the same time, my eyes went white and hazy as my pastry body slumped over and fell on the cement floor. Most likely cracked open its head or something from the sound of it.

"NgOOuoouughhgguuuhh!!!" Andrew's head flung back and forth as if to fight whatever was invading his head, but it barely took a minute before the thrashing suddenly stopped and his head slumped down.

His eyes were closed, his face flushed red from exertion, and the sweat and drool pooled down onto his expensive shorts. A further five minutes of stillness and blinking nodes passed before any activity was seen.

---

*Gasp*

I awoke to the cap on my head giving me a quick electric shock. In front of me laid my old withered body, lifeless and without a doubt stone dead. My throat felt dry and tired, and the ties on my arms hurt like hell. In fact, everything felt, looked, and smelt different. The smell oozing from my sweaty clothes that once smelt great now stunk in my nose. I could recall from Andrew's memories that he showered atleast twice a day. I showered atleast twice a day.

After some fiddling with the special knots in my back, I easily slipped the rope off. Massaging the sore parts on my wrist, I soon relished in how big and strong my new hands looked now. Hands who should've been holding Gavin's...

I explored further up till I reached my new bulging biceps. Squeezing them I felt how firm and taut they were. I never in a million years would have managed to get myself this big, but here I was, standing in the body of a perfect specimen. The body of the man who my friend loved, but who didn't truly love him back. If only I could've done this before Gavin died... Would he have loved me instead, or would he have hated me for what I had done? Well, atleast he would've been alive.

My focus went to my Andrew face, as I caressed the blemish-free skin and the small stubble forming on it. The face of the man I had hated for a while, the face of the man whose identity I would have to take over, and the face I would see in the mirror for as long as I breathed. It was one of the most handsome faces I've ever laid my eyes on no doubt, so I'm perfectly fine with that decision.

My hands continued to explore what was now mine; running fingers through my lush but wet hair, following the outline of my cobblestone abs, and shaking my strong and muscular legs awake from sitting too long.

Not long after I finally slipped the drool and sweat-soaked shorts off myself and watched as the tool between my legs arose to its new owner. It might not have been as long as my former one, but the very girth of it made up for it. As I enveloped it between my palms, I realized that no one had ever been as intimate with Andrew's tool as I was now, and no one would ever be. Not even Gavin would if he was somehow resurrected. Only I, Andrew would ever know how this throbbing member would feel in my own hands, the endorphins and pleasure its touch would send throughout my amazing body, and the ultimate earth-shattering orgasms I would experience as I edge myself to climax every day from now on.

The very thought of it immediately brought me to the brink of orgasm, so I quickly spread my legs apart and thrust the member fully through my grasp. It was all that was needed as I suddenly began shaking with pleasure and exploded shot after shot of Andrew seed all over the floor, myself and my former lifeless body."Ugh! Uuuugh! UUUuOOGggHH!!"

“.... Holy shit.....” I moaned, slightly shocked by the unfamiliarity of the new voice coming from my throat.

Reeling from my first ever orgasm in my new body and life, I sat back down on the chair and took a breather. I was sweaty, my crotch sticky, and my armpits stunk. Yet, I know I still looked glorious. How couldn't I? After all, I am Andrew. The man who Gavin loved, and who loved him back just as much, if not even more...

I will dedicate this new life of mine to worship and care for this body just as much as Gavin would have. His legacy, Andrew's body and life, and my consciousness have finally become one... and I promise I will carry them with pride and confidence to the grave... even if it is the only thing I will accomplish in this short insignificant life of mine.

#possession #revenge #selflove #love #dark #permanent #identity theft #mine

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nongnaos · 2 years

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Ep 2 liveblogging for atots!

It's my first time seeing this show so everything is new to me.

1/4

Getting a job despite being a terrible candidate and the place is closed for the weekend: its the tv drama way!

Chief just bringing him to the school without speaking and then fucking off. I equally hate him and want to be him.

Getting individual intros to each of the kids is so sweet! Tian should maybe have done like a couple days of lesson plans though 😬

Chief taking the time to unbutton his top before looking for a not-quite-drowning Tian... why not take another 5 minutes to take off your army boots, sure Tian can probably breathe underwater don't worry about it bud.

2/4

Why do some of the characters have thai subtitles, are they speaking in a dialect or heavy accent? I need to know.

.... does Chief not know Torfun died 😬😫 is Tian gonna have to tell him at some point??? Noooooooooooo

This guy and his wife really said sorry to the weak ass bitches we only have spicy food here (i would be dead and gone) I really want to know if you're really not allowed to eat spicy food with heart transplant meds? Or is it just the tv drama way? Also the medicines came in a little gift bag, how sweet, ireland would NEVER.

"I'm sure he can eat the spicy food" minus points for you Chief, just straight in with the peer pressure/toxic masculinity vibes (as expected from an army guy 🙄). Tian, buddy, don't do it!!! Tell them you have stomach ulcers or something!!!!

That was almost 30 full seconds of Tian staring straight at Chief, chill out buddy, we're only on ep2.. Very interesting to me that Tian's the one to look away first though.

Chief's definitely gonna find the journal at some point isn't he?

Khlui, the instrument of love. He's playing it thinking of Torfun... and oop a lil bit of Tian. Oh no, the gay thoughts!! Flute solo them away like Lan Xichen taught you!!! Wait.... theres more thoughts of Tian... and a smile. Oh.

3/4

Hdjdjajd CHIEF TOOK TIME OFF TO FUCK WITH TIAN??? AND ENDED THE DAY WITH SMILING WHILE THINKING OF HIM????? You played yourself, Chief, you fooool.

Drake is back! 🙌🙌 "Rang and I believe you can win the hearts of the villagers" Rang is literally speaking to Tian for the first time, but ok.

Ahhh, Chief does know that Torfun died. He's just lying to all the villagers. It seems worse to assume that someone you all thought of as family just left and never returned with no letter or anything since, but sure pretend she's alive Chief, that's definitely not a terrible decision.....

"A pig has diarrhoea" absolutely standard excuse.

4/4

Oh no Chief looks so betrayed.

Chief's kinda a shithole tbh but I'm glad the doctor was there to say that no one wants a kid to get hurt on their watch.

Tell him not to leave! Orrrrr antagonise him into staying.. aaaah

He's thinking about why he wants to be there and the encouraging words of the volunteer teacher head guy... almost like words of encouragement work better than harsh criticism WHO WOULD HAVE GUESSED.

That was.. a lot of intense eye contact while eating noodles.

(Chief would definitely hatefuck Tian right now, the only thing stopping him is a lack of the necessary hatred. Chief dreams of being the kind of person who could hatefuck someone but sadly he's the kind of person who's smiling while thinking of him, making him eat noodles and staring fondly as he does so.)

#atots #atots rewatch 2022 #atotsrewatch2022 #long post #on to the next one! hopefully chief gets sappier as time goes on 😅#dont let my comments fool you i know i seem like i dislike him but it will take very little for me to see the light #liomsa

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wind-becomes-lightning · 2 years

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for @foolishkali for her birthday. some ikigai au stuff. (I'm sorry Kali, I changed the idea for this three times and it is a mess.) I love love love you, happy birthday.

wouldn't upload this here if it weren't a birthday present so I'm putting it all under cut.

If anything, Kaiya should be happy. When you count all the things in her life that somehow had gone right in the last couple of years, husband, house and child, especially after the trouble she’d had in the years preceding that, you’d think that she would be very happy. And she is. Most times at least.

It is a great unfortunate that sometimes, just sometimes, she wakes up and just doesn’t. When the sky is more grey than usual, or it is raining or when the food makes her stomach hurt, or after a nightmare or for no discernable reason at all: Sometimes Kaiya wakes up and is not happy. That does not mean she is unhappy, it just means the absence of happiness.

That is when she can’t move, when the job of a mother to stay at home and look after her daughter seems a little too hard to bear. Other people might call it an easy job, nothing as dangerous as day to day shinobi life, but once you feel glued to your bed, unable to move from below the sheets and eat, drink or think, then even the easiest job becomes unbearable.

It is a remnant of hers, back from when she lived shut away, when there were nothing but grey, rainy, cold days even in the height of summer. Blinds drawn, lights out, hiding under a blanket like a shield from her mistakes and regrets. For years she existed in this non-existence, living dead, until sunshine literally forced itself back into her life.

Back then, Kaiya thought there was nobody who even noticed her absence. After a brother lost plus a mission failed, she assumed nobody in the world would ever notice or miss her. She wondered if death was easier, if her brother, who had by all accounts been a better shinobi than she ever would be, was mad at her for surviving while he was dead. She stayed alive, barely, thinking that nobody ever wasted a second to think of her.

One day, MIght Gai was at her door and with him the light returned with force into her life. When she asked him why he had come he mentioned that he’d seen the deliveries brought up to the door of her apartment, that he’d wondered who was inside and that he’d seen the name at the door. He had remembered her from the academy days. Kaiya had stared at him as if he was a rare occurrence, as if he wasn’t real and only in her imagination. How could anyone remember her from so long ago?

But Gai didn’t leave. He checked on her as much as he possibly could, he drew the curtains, he stocked her kitchen and cooked for her, he cleaned her apartment. Kaiya wasn’t a confrontational person, she was quiet and shy and prone to crying, but all her pleading with him did not stop him. Gai was a force stronger than anything she had ever met. Always smiling, always positive, always supportive. He was convinced to bring her back into the world of the living, and so he did.

Somehow he had stuck around. When he was out during the destruction of the village through the six paths of pain, he hurried back to check on her, if she had made it out of her apartment. In fact, she had, leaving her refuge for the first time in ten or so years. He found her in a tent being patched up, chest heaving heavily as if he’d sprinted through every corner to look for her. As soon as his dark eyes found her brown ones Gai smiled again. As if everything was alright now that she was alright.

Why was he not abandoning her, she’d wonder. No way he didn’t check her file at all and didn’t know about the mistakes she’d made. Could it be that he didn’t care? It was so hard to wrap a head around. Kaiya didn’t think anyone even knew she existed and that her existence was worth something to someone, but still he stayed around as much as he could.

That was how happiness found its way back into her life. After the war at least. Gai started sleeping over, now himself wrapped in a deep grief that Kaiya needed to ease with good words and friendly touch. He’d lost a kid, he had lost the strength in his legs, but to her she was a hero, in more ways than one. So he held on to her the same way she’d held on to him.

When Mai was born Kaiya thought that she could never be unhappy again. Maybe a little naively she had thought the grey days were long behind her. How could happiness ever leave her again, when she had everything she’d ever asked for? Her therapist told her that was normal, that the deep depression Kaiya had gone through could come back from time to time.

Kaiya rolls over in her morning drowsiness, the reality of one of these bad days sinking in. Today she won’t really be able to leave her bed, she knows it at her very core and at the realisation feels embarrassing. Another day in which she will be nothing but a failure.

She moves her hand to touch his hair, always so wild and messed up when he is asleep. Her husband is a ball of energy during the daytime, yet his hair sits perfect at the top of his head. Just at nights when he rests, then it moves all over the place. He stirs under her fingers, dark eyes finding her brown ones through low lids.

Gai knows what mood she is in immediately. He smiles a little warmer than usual, his hand finds her fingers in his hair.

“Good morning”, he says. Kaiya throws a blanket over her head, he chuckles. “Not a good morning, I see,” he states without any anger or judgement. He is never like that when she can't cooperate. As never belittled or made fun of her. Instead he just takes over instantly. The more quiet Kaiya gets, the louder he becomes for her.

“I’m sorry,” she whines from under the blanket. He makes a “tsk”-sound and pulls it off her with a strong movement.

“I guess, the only thing we can do is make it a good morning then, what do you think?”, Gai says loudly, towering a little over her. She wants to laugh at the determined look in his eyes, but today her inside is tight like a knot and so she just bites her shaking lower lip to not cry. More perceptive than any other person she ever met he instantly notices and leans forward to tip his nose against hers.

“You know?” he begins, “I think this is a day when I will show how much I appreciate my beautiful and strong wife.” Kaiya opens her mouth to argue the “strong” part but he has already rolled over to the edge of the bed.

The wheelchair is not in reach of his arms, so Kaiya sits up dutifully, willing to peel herself out of her refuge to help him reel it in. “Don’t- I’ll get it for you”, she says, scrambling to climb over him.

Without waiting for her he lets himself fall off the bed, landing perfectly on his arms to handstand his way to the wheelchair. He’s done these things before, but it always makes Kaiya a little worried. After all, Gai does have lasting effects from the war. Chronic pain in back and arms.

“Don’t worry, dear,” he bellows after jumping into the chair with a little spin, “I will go and make sure Mai is getting breakfast and I can take her training.”

Kaiya settles back into her part of the bed, the shame crawling up her back again. He’s already doing so much. “I’m going to get up later, I promise”, she says and knows it's a lie.

Gai waves the answer away: “Nonsense, today this is your appreciation day, so you should enjoy yourself. And as such, you should stay in bed as much as you like. Such are the rules in this household.”

She watches him roll out through the big doors of their bedroom, all of their little house easily accessible for his wheelchair. She can hear the door to Mai’s room opening, and hears them both scream a “Good morning” at each other. Mai has her mother’s hair, but her father’s personality and maybe it is better this way.

She listens to the wheels rolling back into the kitchen, listens to them laugh and make breakfast together. The endless tiredness drags Kaiya down and she pulls the blanket over her head again. She closes her eyes to wait for the restless sleep of depression to take her, but all she hears is the laughter coming from the kitchen.

These unfortunate days might be grey and rainy, the curtains might be closed and darkness might wrap Kaiya up, but when has Gai ever cared for that? His presence has always brought the sunshine and light back. She closes her eyes with a smile and thinks of that very first day she opened the door with him on the other side, how bright he seemed in the sunlight.

She had not gotten rid of Gai, had not been able to compliment him out of her apartment when he had decided he’d stay. And he still did. Through it all. Who knew someone like Kaiya deserved someone like that.

#fanfiction things #oc: kaiya #au: ikigai #was thinking of writing relinquo first but idk we talked about this so much #gai is a good person i love him but im always so insecure about writing him #anyway sorry for the deppresh i just think thats something kaiya might have #love you so much kali kiss kiss kiss

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fotiathymos · 3 years

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Idk if I'll ever draw the Gueira and Meis prequel story comic I have in my head but here have snippets I wrote of it and tell me if it's any good lol

uh warning its kinda long, three separate moments and not written like a book as I am more so plotting out how I’d draw it or envision things. Also has a lot of Gueira crying. Like he’s always crying. I’m sorry Gueira.

Meis grumbles and ups the volume on their music. Staring into their mirror, make up dark and black and bad. Angry singing along with a brush comb and then using the same comb to tease at their hair violently. Hair visibly comes out. Their bedroom window bursts open due to the wind. Meis jumps, startled.

The dust storm is rolling by hard and Meis notices the stable door open in the backyard. Their eyes go wide and quickly climb out their bedroom window running towards it.

(Continue in color)

Meis runs inside the stable closing the doors behind them and the storm gets worse. They glance around and count three horses, Ophelia is outside of her stall yet everything else seems fine. They sigh with relief. Meis walk over to Ophelia. "Did you open the doors again cause you were nervous?" Meis pats the horse's nose. Their hand leaves a dust print on the horse. Meis crouches down to look at themselves in a mirror nearby thats leaning on the floor.

Meis is covered in dust and their hair and make up all messed up. They grumble a bit and smudge their eyeliner down their cheek.

Through the mirror Meis sees a foot from behind them poking out of a hay stack.

Meis bolts up. Their first instinct is to kick the hay, hard.

Gueira screams. Followed by Meis screaming. Every single horse starts acting up.

They both are screaming at eachother at the same time.

Meis, "Who are you?! How'd you get here? Get ya fuck out of here!!"

Gueira, "Wait! Wait! Please don't kill me! I can't stand up! They kidnapped me! I had no where to go!"

Ophelia is pushing herself to get in front of Meis. Meis steps aside and the horse goes right for Gueira. Gueira lights his hands on fire and reaches out, "Please no!" Ophelia panics backwards. Meis gets in front of her this time. Gueira's still lying on the floor with his hands aflame, he doesn't attack.

"You’re fuckin’ Burnish! You stupid Burnish! Everything here is flammable don't even fuckin’ dare!" Meis screams and suddenly Gueira has a bucket of liquid tossed on him. His flames don't go out but are duller. He hugs his legs to himself and the light glow of flames surround his body. "I'm.. I'm not in control of this. But I.. won't.. I won't burn the place down.." he stumbles over his words as his body shakes.

Meis stops and takes a better look at Gueira and sees how distressed he is. They calm down Ophelia then look back towards Gueira.

"You're just a kid."

Gueira sniffles, “I’m not a kid!” The flames brighten.

“How old are you?”

“Just turned 16.″

“Thats a toddler. How’d a toddler get into my backyard?”

“I don’t need this from someone looking like that!” Gueira motions to Meis, still covered in dust, half teased hair, shirt torn and barely on and smeared make up. “How old are you?!”

“Gonna be 17 in two weeks.”

“Also toddler!” Gueira points and grins at Meis, his flames disappear for a moment.

“I’m pretty much an adult!” Meis waves their hands in the air. Then stomps a foot towards Gueira. “And you still haven’t answered me!” Ophelia acts up again as Meis is yelling again. Gueira recedes back, nervous.

“Please don’t call Freeze Force on me..” Gueira hugs his legs and hides his face.

“You’re in the wrong place then kid. My pa is training in Freeze Force.”

Gueira’s head shoots up, eyes wide.

Meis plops a seat down next to him. “I’ll hide you for the night though.” Meis leans their arm on their knee and rests their head on their arm. Eyeing Gueira carefully.

Gueira stares at Meis, tears forming but trying not to cry again. “Seriously?”

“I’m not gonna call the feds on a kid.” Meis pulls the nearby mirror close and starts fixing themselves up. “You're lucky my pa didn't catch ya, you'dve been swiss cheese.”

Gueira hides his face into his legs and arms again. “Can you just help me get home.. I don’t recognize any of this place.”

“Sure. Probably for the best you head out after the storm. It gets extra hot after a sandstorm passes ‘round here, even at night. Where you live?”

“Uh, near the Liberty apartments.. maybe you could just point me to a bus or I could hitch hike.. somehow.” Gueira is talking into his arms.

“...I don’t know of that apartment building. Most places near here are just horse people’s homes.”

“...horses?” Gueira’s head peeks out.

Meis points at Ophelia. “That?”

“I know what a horse is!” He glares at Meis. His expression softens as he looks down towards the foor. “Am I not in Miami?”

“Miami?” Meis stops what theyre doing and whip their head towards Gueira.

“Yeah!” Gueira looks happy.

“You mean like Florida?” Meis’ expression is really confused.

“Yeah?” Gueira looks concerned.

“You’re in Texas, kid.” Meis finishes fixes themselves up and pushed the mirror away. Gueira is silent for a moment.

“...how?” Gueira looks back at the ground again.

“I should be asking you that.” Meis pulls out a cigarette and lights it. “You ran from the Foundation real far you got lost, huh?” Meis takes a drag and doesn’t look too concerned till suddenly Gueira’s shaking again. Meis lowers his cigarette. “What.. happened to you, kid?”

Gueira squeezes hard on his own legs. “They...they just bagged my head and threw me in a van. I didn’t know where they were taking me. They talked about the other city states but.. but how'd I get into the middle of the Burnish desert lands..”

Meis frowns. “We’re not in the middle of the Burnish desert lands. we’re in human civilization.”

Gueira starts crying again and leans back towards the hay. His flames grow. Meis panics and grabs Gueira away from the haystack.

“Can you stop that!” Meis grips onto Gueira’s shoulders. “You are surrounded by tinder!”

“I won’t burn things! I swear!” Gueira yells back at Meis through his tears.

“You’re currently on fire!”

“And you’re not burnt are you!?” Gueira screams it this time. Flames spark off him. Yet Meis is still unharmed. Meis finally notices how they’re grabbing Gueira and the flames are on their arms as well.

“See!” Gueira grabs Meis’ hands. “I’m not some monster, please. I’m just... just a kid.. like you said.” Gueira stutters through tears more. Lets go of Meis’ hand and falls backwards into the hay. The hay is unaffected as the flames around Gueira’s body persist. Gueira goes back to hugging his knees and crying. “Please don’t turn me in.. I just.. I didn’t want this.. I..”

“Okay, Okay hey!”, Meis moves towards Gueira. They hesitate reaching out towards him. Then Meis touches Gueira’s shoulder again. They take a moment to register how the flames aren’t hurting. Gueira’s still crying and hiding his face. Meis then grabs Gueira’s other shoulder and pulls him into a hug. Gueira’s surprised.

“I’m not turning you in. I promise, okay. You can stay here as long as you need.” the focus is on Gueira’s face as his scared eyes soften and he hugs Meis back, tightening his grip and starts sobbing into Meis’ arms.

---------

Both of them are laying on the stable floor, smoking lazily. Meis is letting Ophelia nibble at their hair.

Gueira takes a drag on his cigarette and coughs it up violently. Meis laughs a little. Gueira huffs, "You know,” cough “I always thought it funny how my parents can.." .....he sighs.... "..could look at me and not see I'm gay."

Meis ignores the hidden implications in Gueira's words. "Heh. My family sees me all the time looking like this and still thinks I'm a cis male."

Gueira shifts to face Meis and takes another drag of his cigarette, blows out smoke properly. Meis looks a little proud. "Yeah but you don't know what you are anyway." Gueira picks Meis' hair out of Ophelia's mouth.

Meis ponders a moment.

"I'm.. I'm an unlit match in a haystack. Full of potential to destroy it all but stifled and buried alive."

Gueira raises an eyebrow "Poetic. Is that a song lyrics of yours?"

Meis laughs, "Hoho-noooo. You think I'm that kind of song writer?"

"It's just... if you keep talking like that you'll catch the Burnish from me." Gueira snickers and puts out his cigarette on the barn floor.

Meis smiles falters, "I always thought those things weren't human. I mean.. not that you're a thing. Or not human.." Meis turns to Gueira now. "You can't catch the Burnish.. right??"

Gueira smirks "Come closer and find out for yourself."

Meis flicks Gueira's nose.

"Oooowwwwwwyyeeeee"

Meis puts out their cigarette and stands up, dusting off themselves. "I better get back before Pa comes pounding on the barn door looking for me." Meis kisses Ophelia on the nose and pats Guiera's head, ruffling his hair. Gueira doesn't bother to fix his hair and mutters under his breathe "fuck that guy"

Meis pulls a match out of their pocket and flicks it into a nearby haystack. Gueira rolls his eyes at the gesture, unamused.

---------

Gueira's talking fast and stifling sobs. "It's so lonely and so crowded. It's feels like my head is inside a fire. Numbing and loud. These voices just talk constantly, scream at me to burn. Burn. Burn. Burn. They’re real. They’re my thoughts. But I don’t like them. And I don’t want them to be real.. I.. I understand why the Foundation wants me. But what do they want with me.. why did they choose me. They make me want to burn you alive, Meis." He sniffs and Meis seems unfazed at the concept.

" ..just consume you.. in all of this fire.. all the flames in me."

Meis reaches out to grab Gueira's hand. They're both still not looking at each other. Just staring at the barn on the floor.

"I'm an unlit match in a haystack, Guiera. Maybe I just need to be set aflame."

Gueira starts crying harder. "You don't want this.. you really fucking don't."

Meis drops Gueira's hand and grabs his face to look at him sternly. They’re both facing each other now. "You don't speak for me. I could be a Burnish!"

Between sobs "You don't need this."

"Burn."

"Stop it"

"Burn for me Guiera."

"Shut up"

"Burn me alive"

Gueira pushes away and stands up. "Stop it! Stop it! You don't want this! You don't need this burden! It's useless! It's just trouble! It's just crying and running away and ..and.. I could get you snatched up and killed! Why do you even care about me!!"

Meis slowly stands up. "So we're not talking about the fire anymore, huh?"

Gueira's tears are little fires. He's shaking and trying to hold himself by wrapping his arms around his body in a grip. Legs wobbly and feet shifting to try and stay standing up. Meis doesn't approach him. A gentle smile appears on their face and they reach out a hand.

"Burn."

Gueira closes his eyes tight and suddenly bursts into flames. The flames stay around Gueira’s body and don’t spread.

“Breathe in the fire for me, Gueira!” Meis holds out their arms. “Burn properly!”

“It burns my throat!”

“Scream!”

“I can’t! I’ll really explode!” Gueira opens his eyes to look at Meis. Meis looks excited.

"Burn this whole barn down!" Meis’ eyes are wide and is grinning big.

"You're losing it too now. You're not even Burnish and you're a pyromaniac." Gueira looks concerned for Meis.

"You think I care about this place?" Meis’ laugh is almost evil.

"You care about Ophelia! I'm not gonna burn her house down just cause I'm being whiney and having a break down! You sound like them. Don’t make the voices in my head external! You shouldn’t encourage this!” Gueira’s yelling and the flames aren’t stopping. His hands are in fists and close to his chest, holding back.

Meis walks up to Gueira and puts a hand on his cheek. Their voice is calmer now. “You need to actually let it all out. You need to burn or it’s all going to eat you up inside. Just scream and burn all your fears away.”

Gueira’s eyes shut tight. His hands open up and to his sides as flames burst around him. Two flame like horns are above his head. He screams. His eyes are enflamed and he glares at Meis, smacking Meis’ hand off his face.

“You want fire?!” Gueira practically growls and smoke comes out his mouth. Meis is smiling big. “I hate you Meis. I can’t stand this fucking barn. I smell of horse shit.” He’s throwing flames with every sentence. Meis doesn’t move away still. Gueira’s anger starts leaning into his sadness. “I can't just be lazy around here forever on you. Just because I'm scared. Just because I’m so fucking scared!” Gueira roars flames. “I always felt so fucking useless and lazy. I was always a burden on somebody. And I ruined everything for my family, their hopes, their dreams, all their money went to their goddamn useless hospital child. I ruined everything for them! I ruined my own dreams! I can’t even kick a fucking football!” Gueira’s sobbing. “I already lost everything. I can't.. I can't even have you, Meis. When I know this will all be lost too."

------

ono/

#boop merps #uh uh do i put in the tags #im gonna #promare #guiemei #guiemeis #idk ship names bro im tired and hungry #my ideas are too big for my hands and full time job so if anything #you got this at least #even if i dont make comic #or whatever it is i end up making

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depressedhatakekakashi · 3 years

Text

Kakashi Week Day 3: Bleeding Out

Gift For: @alumort

For You

@kakashiweek

Words: 2195

Warnings: Blood Tw, Near Death experience.

Pairing: Kakagai (can be read as platonic or romantic. it's up to the reader)

The battlefield is a blur. Even Obito’s sharingan struggles to keep up with the speed of all of the enemy’s movements, just barely giving Kakashi the information he needs to dodge an attack or to strike at the perfect moment.

Winning feels like an impossible task, but he continues moving. This wasn’t a fight that he was willing to lose easily.

Not when Gai’s life was on the line.

“Nice try!” Hearing a triumphant call from his best friend, Kakashi risked a glance. A moment to check-in and make sure that everything was alright, and just in time to see Gai planting his foot into the enemy’s face. Sending him stumbling back with a bloody, most likely very broken, nose. “It will take more than that for-”

The rest of Gai’s words faded into the background when Obito’s eye locked onto an incoming attack. The sight of sharp steel gleaming in the sunlight made his blood run cold, and the target was clear.

Gai.

Kakashi’s body moved without thought. Kunai coming up to guard against the incoming attack. To protect Gai, no matter what. That was his goal. The only goal that mattered at this moment.

Steel clashed, a struggle for victory between Tanto and Kunai while Kakashi stared down his enemy. It didn't take long for the victor to be decided, and unfortunately for Kakashi, this one wasn’t his battle to win. Feeling his hand giving out, he watched as the Kunai was flung off to the side. Decoration for the dirt until the battle was done.

The enemy’s speed didn’t give even for a second. His eye followed the tanto as the enemy pulled it back, leaving his body to react on instinct rather than logic. Lightning sparked in his hand, a desperate last-ditch attempt to protect himself and his friend.

The warmth of fresh blood is a feeling that’s all too familiar to Kakashi. The way it drips from his fingers, staining his hand the same as every shinobi who has met their end on Kakashi’s chidori.

The coldness though, that’s a feeling he doesn’t experience a lot.

A feeling that could only be compared to being thrown headfirst into a frozen river, his fingers ache when he tries to move them. The warm blood provided no relief to the sheer cold that settled into his bones.

“I won’t allow y-you-” His words faltered, sharp pain in his own chest suddenly making its presence known. Lowering his eyes, he stared down at his enemies’ tanto. Cold steel buried deep inside of his chest, mirroring his own attack against the enemy.

There’s no response to his words, and when he risks a glance upward he can see why. The only thing keeping the enemy’s body up is Kakashi’s hand. A limb struck through a now lifeless body, refusing to allow it to crumple to the ground.

At least if he died here he could say he wasn’t the first one to fall.

Removing his hand carefully, he ignored the slight tremble in his fingers. A response to the memories that came with the attack. No longer being held up by Kakashi, the enemy’s body crumpled to the ground. Lifeless and forgotten in favour of the much more pressing matter of his own wound.

“Kakashi?” Gai’s back pressing against his is another familiar feeling, though a lot more comforting than any of the other ones he had experienced in the last few minutes. “I appreciate the protection, and I’d appreciate it a lot more if you told me that you were uninjured.”

Just like Gai. Always worried about Kakashi when he needed to focus on the battle, not that Kakashi was any better. After all, it was his worry for Gai that had landed him in this position.

“Tell me you can keep fighting,” The voice behind him grew distant. As if Gai was moving away from him, even though Kakashi knew that wasn’t possible. Not when he could still feel Gai’s back pressed up against his. Protecting him from an attack from behind. “Kakashi-”

“Don’t think-” the wound in his chest ached. A pain that he was far too familiar with, but was also somehow ten times worse than he had ever experienced before. “Might need to, fight alone. Sorry.”

His knees gave out suddenly, sending him crashing to the ground as the cold that had burrowed its way into his bones just moments ago disappeared suddenly along with the sound of Gai’s voice. He’s certain that he should feel the moment that his body collides with the ground, but the only thing that he registers is the distant sound of fighting. Fists colliding with flesh and nunchucks deflecting Kunai and Tantos.

Laying there on his side, he watched as feet rushed past him. The fight continued as he lay there, surrounded by silence and feeling nothing except a deep numbness that could only be attributed to blood loss.

This was where he was going to die. A cold body on the ground, unable to do anything while his best friend fought for his life, and yet he couldn’t find it in him to be sad. At the end of the day, he died protecting Gai. Gave his friend another chance to win the fight and complete the mission.

To get home alive.

It was a fitting death, and as the world around him slowly started to fade away he couldn’t help but allow a small smile to tug at the corners of his lips.

Waiting was always the hardest part. No matter how much people talked about the pain of seeing someone they care about injured or watching them slowly dying in front of them, it was not knowing that hurt the most.

Wondering if this was going to end with another funeral.

Another goodbye.

Or if somehow he had managed to make it on time. If his feet had moved just fast enough, carrying him home just in time to save his best friend from otherwise certain death.

Staring at the door that Tsunade-sama had disappeared behind with Kakashi, he waited. The only thing keeping him in his seat is the constant reminder of who it is behind those doors.

Hatake Kakashi.

His eternal rival and best friend.

A wound like this would not be Kakashi’s end. It couldn’t be. There was still so much that they had to do together. Challenges that Gai hadn’t even thought up yet, and festivals for them to enjoy together.

“Gai-Sensei?” Dragging his eyes away from the door, he focused on the pink-haired Chunin who had just arrived, her hands held timidly in front of her chest. “Shizune said-Is Kakashi-Sensei.”

Shoving all of his feelings aside, Gai smiled at Sakura. A bright confident smile, followed by his signature thumbs up.

“Kakashi will be fine,” he assured her. “He’s Kakashi. He’s not one to give up easily. Besides, Tsunade-sama is looking after him. She is not known as the best medical ninja in all of the lands for nothing.”

If anyone could save Kakashi, it was Tsunade-sama.

“Good,” lowering her hands, Sakura glanced towards the door. “Captain Yamato is keeping Naruto distracted. When Shizune gave us the news he said it was best if Naruto didn’t find out until- well…”

It made sense. Yamato was always level-headed, even in times of great stress. There was no doubt in Gai’s mind that he was concerned about his Senpai’s current condition, but he knew when his attention was needed elsewhere, and when it came to Naruto it was best to keep him in the dark. If he found out what had happened-

Hearing a door opening, Gai pulled himself out of his thoughts and looked back over at the door he had spent the last four hours staring at. The first thing he noticed was all of the blood that now stained Tsunade-sama’s hands.

Kakashi’s blood.

“Gai, focus,” Tsunade-sama ordered, sighing when Gai diverted his eyes. Ashamed of himself for thinking of the worst before she could even get a word out. “Kakashi is fine. It took a bit of work, and there was some damage to his right lung, but he pulled through.”

Hours of worry melted away. His body released all of the tension that had been building up while he sat there waiting, hoping that Kakashi would be alright. That he hadn’t been too late.

“C-can i…”

“He won’t be awake for a while,” Nodding he waited for her to continue. “But, once we have him in a better room to rest and recover, you can sit with him. Though I do suggest we keep guests at a minimum. Sakura, can I trust you to make sure the room doesn’t get too crowded?”

“I’ll make sure Naruto stays out,” Sakura confirmed, a smile on her face when Gai looked back at her. “Team Kakashi can wait to see him. As long as we know he’s alright, we’ll be fine. You should be the first person he sees when he wakes up.”

“Thank you.” with that decided, Gai turned back to Tsunade-sama. “What room is he going to be in?”

“34,” she held out an arm, pointing towards the hallway with her hand. “I’m sure you know the way.”

That was an understatement. After all of the visits he had made over the years, between Kakashi, his old teammates, and his own student’s injuries, he could now walk the hallways with his eyes closed.

A challenge he may take upon himself another day. When there was a little more energy, and a lot less worry, in his soul.

The smell of cleanliness is the first thing Kakashi registers when his mind starts to swim towards consciousness. A smell that he knows all too well. Has spent too much time around not to recognize it as soon as it hits his nose.

The hospital.

If he were dead, he wouldn’t smell the hospital. There was no way that whatever afterlife there might be, that it would smell like a hospital. That would be the worst way to introduce someone to death.

Which meant only one thing.

“Gai,” he spoke without thought, already knowing that his best friend was there by his side. “How…”

“Are you really doubting my resolve right now, Rival?” he longs to open his eyes. To see that blinding smile that he knows is on Gai’s face at this moment, waiting to welcome him back into the world of the living. It’s too much though. There’s too little energy in his body to even manage that one small gesture. “Tsunade-sama said that it would take a while for you to recover. The enemy’s sword did a lot of damage. It even hit your lung.”

That explained why it was a little difficult for him to breathe. Tsunade-sama must have had a hell of a time trying to save him this time, and there was no doubt she had a lecture already brewing for him when he woke up again.

Speaking of lectures.

“I don’t regret it.”

“I know.”

“But you’re mad.”

Silence settles over the small room. Not a word was spoken, or a muscle moved. The two of them just sit there, wondering what to do next. How to continue a conversation that neither one of them wanted to have.

“You almost died.”

“For you,” he’s surprised by how easily those words leave his mouth. Words he wouldn’t dare say to anyone else, for fear of the reaction that they might give. “And I'd do it again.”

He expects anger, perhaps disappointment. A reminder of how precious his life is, and how Gai can’t stand the thought of having to bury him. Being forced to say goodbye when they had so much life to live.

Instead, his ears are greeted with laughter.

Bright, beautiful laughter. The kind of sound that makes his heart flutter, and gives him the energy he had been missing just minutes ago. Cracking his right eye open, he turned his face to the left and stared at Gai. Watching as his best friend shut his eyes and threw his head back, his laughter growing louder with each passing second.

A sound Kakashi would gladly listen to for the rest of the day.

The sound of life.

“Don’t you dare,” he’s surprised by the words, not because he doesn’t expect Gai to say them but because of the way they’re said? With so much joy and kindness that Kakashi’s certain his friend has lost his sanity. “You’re not allowed to die, Kakashi.”

“Mmm, is that so?” Relaxing back into the bed, he chuckled to himself. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m apparently too stubborn to die then.”

It would take a stronger enemy to take Kakashi out, and he was alright with that.

As much as he didn’t mind the thought of dying to protect Gai, he was much more fond of living. There were still so many contests for them to have and so many opportunities for him to get under Gai’s skin.

“For you,” he whispered once more, a tender smile pulling at his lips when he felt a hand rest on his arm. “I’ll fight to live.”

#Hatake Kakashi #Maito Gai #Haruno Sakura #Tsunade #Kakagai #Kakashi Week 2021 #kakagai #Kakashiweek2021

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chalkrevelations · 3 years

Text

SO. Word of Honor, Episode 10, and everyone is deep in their feelings … well, their feeling, which is misery.

First, due diligence, and I really mean it on this one: SPOILERS not just for this ep but for the entire show. Out of the car, for now, and come back later, if you want to watch the whole thing unspoiled.

Well, it’s the breakup episode, y’all. Everyone is wallowing in misery, and Our Couple is taking that out on themselves and in some cases (:cough:WKX:cough) on everybody around them. We open on sad-sack Wen Kexing digging sadly in the dirt with a sword, the bodies of the Four Sages of Anji laid out beside him as he gives a RIP speech about how you have to be careful when making friends, because they’ll turn out to be bad news, which is clearly yet another warning about himself, because I don’t think anyone in the mob who killed these aging hippies in the last ep was a friend (although I suppose it could be argued that WKX is talking about their friendship with Gao Chong getting them killed) and anyway, you have to understand that WKX is a demon under the skin, not even really human, you guys, and he’s only ever going to disappoint everyone. Has he not made this clear by now? His sword breaks at this point, which probably ought to tell him he’s not going to be able to bury any of this mess. Then Zhou Zishu shows up and is understandably unhappy at the way his decision last ep to walk out on faith for this guy has gone completely pear-shaped, and he asks some rather pointed questions about whether four dead Sages of Anji is what WKX wanted and if he’s happy now – questions that sound, my dude, a little confrontational. I mean, I think you’re entitled, given the situation, but I’m just sayin’. WKX flings off ZZS’s hand and wants to know if “Leader Zhou” has only ever killed bad people, which is a hit that lands, and it hurts, just like it was supposed to, and this is definitely one of those nightmare scenarios where everyone just keeps digging themselves deeper. ZZS is all, FINE THEN, and leaves. Again. Because WKX is apparently a demon in human form who’s only ever going to disappoint everyone. Including his zhiji. I love you with all of my heart, ZZS, but a little bit, you come off like you only showed up to twist the knife, my man. Anyway, ZZS stomps off to go mope at Yuefan Tower, the scene of his bad decision to trust this guy BEFORE finding out he sets up revenge murders for fun. We’re treated to a flashback sequence of some of ZZS’s Tian Chuang state-sanctioned violence, including a pile of bodies in a burned-out house with a little girl who reaches out to him and calls him “shushu” (which I think is a reference to something that actually happens in Qi Ye); killing that official dude and making Jing’an drink poison, from Ep 1; inserting the Seven Nails into Bi Changfeng - a whole bunch of bad shit that WKX has dug back up way more successfully with a few words than that grave he was trying to dig with his broken sword. ZZS sighs mournfully and unfairly beautifully (your FACE, my dude) over the fact that he thought he found his soulmate, but he was apparently WRONG, and meanwhile, we see Han Ying lurking worriedly and devotedly in the background.

Then, both of these morose motherfuckers proceed to drink themselves (even more) stupid over each other, WKX in a brothel and ZZS moping by himself downstairs at the (No Longer) Getting Lucky Inn, leaving poor Han Ying and A-Xiang to eventually deal with them. ZZS is literally falling over as he calls for more wine – you are a sloppy drunk, laopo, although I have to admit, you’ve worked your way through a lot of bottles, so I suppose it’s understandable – and WKX proceeds to drink his four ... five? ... four, I think, girls under the table and clearly has no intention of sleeping with them, because it might interfere with his waxing drunkenly and mournfully about finding a thing you thought you’d lost forever but not being able to keep it at the price of giving up your big revenge murder plan you’ve been working out since you were 8 years old. (Also because he’s gay af. I’m just sayin’.)

So, yeah, Han Ying and A-Xiang eventually have to deal with these two, and for my money, the single most important scene of the ep - thematically, at least - is the one we get between A-Xiang and WKX, where a couple of big things are going on. One of the themes I see again, running through this ep, is the separation between the human world and the world of “ghosts,” and how that line is policed, and how Wen Kexing tries to maintain it as a bright line, in order to maintain his own distance from Zhou Zishu and the world. Now that things have gone so spectacularly wrong with ZZS, he’s going to dig in on the “ghost” side of that line for all he’s worth – much harder than he was digging that grave for the Four Sages of Anji, given he breaks the sword and gives up halfway through on that one, but this one he’s determined to get all the way to the bedrock on. So yes, in this scene we get the theme made explicit again, of human-ghost separation - which will echo and rebound throughout the rest of the show, until we see its awful, gory truth made manifest when it turns out WKX is horrifically correct and A-Xiang is NOT, in fact, going to be allowed by “humankind” to leave Ghost Valley and walk up to the human world with her lover, while meanwhile, if WKX is going to get out of the valley, he’s not staying in the mortal world but is going to end up on the icy remote mountaintop. BUT ALSO, this may be the first time we really see the show put A-Xiang forward as a proxy for Wen Kexing. This is going to be an increasingly weighted Thing as we go on, of course, but what I didn’t remember on my first watch-through - even after I realized what they were doing with the A-Xiang/Cao Weining and Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu parallels further down the road – is that, in this first time we really see it, it’s not even about their respective love interests, it’s about their respective relationships with Chengling. I mean, clearly, clearly, when WKX is being a drunk asshole to A-Xiang about how she’s been too long in her human skin (and huh, interesting that, when we also have instances where fake skin disguises are literal), and DON’T EVER FORGET WHO YOU ARE, HEARTLESS AMETHYST FIEND GHOST VALLEY MASTER HEARTLESS AMETHYST FIEND, and who among them would ever pity you me you, he’s really talking about his recent breakup with ZZS, in which he got called a crazed psychopath just for setting up a few amusing revenge murders. But here’s the thing – what triggers the diatribe is A-Xiang saying she feels sorry for Chengling trapped in Yueyang Sect, in the course of nattering on about what’s up with Chengling, and what she and Chengling have been doing together, and how much Chengling misses WKX. Which is, A-Xiang tells WKX, a lot. After which WKX puffs himself up and proceeds to be a drunk asshole to her, because of course, he’s not worthy of having anyone care about him, they might think he’s human, or something, and then he’s only going to get hurt again when they find out he’s NOT. So, all that happens. We also find out in this conversation that Changing Ghost was responsible for the pile of heads; that A-Xiang was at the Funeral/Wedding Game and saw Deng Kuan become the last survivor and get set free in much better condition than he later showed up at Yueyang Sect, so what the hell’s happened to him in between; and that A-Xiang definitely thinks her Murder Dad master is crazy but isn’t afraid that he’ll end up killing her someday. I mean, let’s be clear, I don’t think she’s absolutely positive that he won’t go crazy and kill her – she’s just not afraid of it. Zhou Ye is fantastic here, because she has A-Xiang give WKX this gorgeous little smile that’s so simple yet just so filled with love and trust and faith and everything that must have kept his heart alive all those years, the one that she probably gave him even after he burned her mouth on congee that was too hot, and I end up clutching my chest because I think she’s killed me. And then in a horrible twist on what’s eventually coming down the pike, she tells him that she’d follow him even if he’s crazy, and that if he killed her, she’d even follow him in death, and GOD. MY HEART. Because we’re going to see that in fact, he’s going to almost follow her into death, and then he’s going to dream of her leaving him instead of actually staying with him after death, and the only thing keeping me together at this point is the idea that Nian’xiang will actually be A-Xiang reincarnated so that she can be with WKX and the rest of her family again.

Anyway, all of this is apparently a dress rehearsal for WKX, because he then gets himself dolled up in some luscious green robes and proceeds to go to Tragicomic Ghost’s mansion in order to terrorize the troops and spread the misery. He requests a report from all of his top ten nine eight devils; credits them with three Funeral Games (I guess we don’t get to see the other two), annihilating Danyang Sect, destroying Mirror Lake Sect, killing Mount Tai Sect’s leader (Ao Laizi), and leaving a pile of heads for Yueyang Sect to find. He’s doing his best Lunatic Wen bit, but come on, my friend, do they really deserve credit for ALL of that? Do they really? It sounds like you have your suspicions, as well, because you want to know who was responsible for the Mirror Lake massacre. Everyone looks around, pointedly not meeting his eyes, so, hmm, it must have been Long-Tongued Ghost, right? Right? (Who we last saw getting killed and getting his (Danyang) Glazed Armor took by Wen Kexing while pretending to be Hanged Ghost.) Changing Ghost, who’s supposedly Long-Tongued Ghost’s superior and who’s smart enough to sense the wind shifting, even if he’s not sure in which direction, hastily says that LTGhost doesn’t listen to him anymore. (Yeah, because he’s dead.) At this point, White Grim Reaper is dumb enough to draw attention to himself, and WKX chokes him out just ‘cause. ‘Cause he’s Lunatic Wen, and fuck you, that’s why. Both Tragicomic Ghost and Beauty Ghost look more Completely Done With This Bullshit than scared – in contrast to the men, who are shitting their pants - which is an early indication that their relationships with WKX are different than his relationships with the male Devils. WKX also makes some pointed comment about how oh dear, he’s killed someone, and they were already low on manpower, but as a chief of GHOSTS, that’s all he has to work with, isn’t that RIGHT, Changing Ghost – which sounds on the surface kind of like policing that line between ghosts and humans, but really seems more like he has his suspicions about exactly who Changing Ghost is actually working with, because while he may not be as smart as A-Xu, he’s not DUMB. Now, let’s all come up with a plan to fuck over the Five Lakes Alliance during the Hero’s Conference. Aaaaand … end scene (and ep).

Meanwhile, Han Ying is dealing with his poor, drunk dumbass charge, and we see ZZS wake up in some richly appointed rooms, in some strange bed, and he’s clearly thinking “Oh snap. What I do last night?” Also, feeling the hangover. Once he manages to get his boots on, he notices a shrine, complete with candles, and just about this point, Han Ying busts in like he’s WKX or something (although to be fair, it is his bedroom), and wants to know exactly wtf is wrong with ZZS, getting blackout drunk with his actual face hanging out like he doesn’t care who recognizes him? (I just have to take a moment here, and point out that ZZS, who went all in, in the last ep, and who will continue to be the more open one as this relationship goes on, is being berated here for not wearing a mask, for showing his real self, while the issue for both A-Xiang and WKX is going to continue to be keeping on a protective mask/skin, even though WKX accuses A-Xiang himself in this very ep of thinking the mask is real and not just a cover for her true face. Anyway.) Oh, and also, My Lord, how is your injury? DO YOU NEED SOMEONE TO TENDERLY CARE FOR YOU? I like this scene, because Han Ying’s actually kind of angry at ZZS, and a little bit, he shows it, and we get to see that he’s not spineless, even in the (blindingly beautiful) face of ZZS, he’s just devoted. And if that means keeping this dumbass safe from himself, well, Han Ying will try to do that, too, even if it’s enough to drive him to find religion, as we also find out in this scene, explaining the shrine. I suppose he needs all the help he can get. Anyway, ZZS tells him that he’s too mean to die just yet, although he doesn’t expect any blessings on his path, and Han Ying responds – and I think this is important, given ZZS’s decision last ep to spend the rest of his life living instead of dying – that “any day we live is a day gained.” (HAN YING. MY BELOVED.) ZZS pulls some Glazed Armor out of his robes to give to Han Ying, and they both realize that it looks exactly like two pieces Han Ying already has his hands on, gdi WKX. At this point, ZZS reiterates that he just wants Han Ying to lay low and stay safe, Han Ying reiterates his undying devotion, and ZZS has clearly had it with these kids and their starry-eyed devotion. He tries telling Han Yng again to just live a good life - as if Han Ying is at all wired that way – before making some dramatic pronouncement about expecting to have to deal with what’s coming to him in hell and sweeping out the door in the last we see of him this ep.

Let’s see, other things that happened:

Gao Chong, Zhao Jing and Shen Shen confer over their complete loss of face in the run-up to the Hero’s Conference; Shen Shen gets very offended and denies killing Ao Laizi, which is the rumor going around town; Gao Chong says the Ghost Valley isn’t responsible for Ao Laizi’s death (which they are) or for spreading the rhyme about the Glazed Armor (which they are); Zhao Jing says Five Lakes Alliance can’t get a reputation for forcing other sects to do things (when he can manipulate them into doing what he wants), and Shen Shen wants to know WHY THE HELL NOT (oh, Shen Shen) when the jianghu has always been, and I QUOTE, “a place where the strong pery on the weak,” so again, I have to kind of side with WKX on this one about the hive of scum and villainy. Or I would if you guys seemed capable of actually accomplishing anything.

Elsewhere in Yueyang Sect, it’s been Bullying Hour again for Chengling, and A-Xiang is furious when she finds out, threatening to break the legs of whoever’s responsible for smacking him around (she really is like the most delightful Chengxian love-child, I have to say). She also has some Wolong Nuts – crispy and delicious! – for him. Gao Xiaolian shows up with some treats, but Chengling doesn’t want her food, and also he doesn’t want to marry her, because he doesn’t want to be Gao Chong’s puppet, which is kind of new, because he said a couple of eps ago at the Five Lakes monument that he would abide by Gao Chong’s decisions. I guess now that he’s found out from A-Xiang that their Murder Dads are still around, he thinks there’s still a chance to run away with them. Gao Xiolian runs away, crying. Harsh, Chengling, but it does give him the chance to complain to A-Xiang that he’s effectively under house arrest, WHERE ARE OUR MURDER DADS TO SAVE ME?

Last but not least, there’s this incredible scene with Yu Loser Qiufeng, leader of Mount Hua Sect, in which one of the Mount Hua Virgins (tm WKX) comes complaining that everyone is looking down on them. Yu Qiufeng tells him that the entire jianghu is falling apart and to suck it up, and then another Virgin (tm WKX) shows up to say that some people from Mount Tai Sect are here to talk about Dead Ao Laizi, because the Five Lakes Alliance killed him omg. Yu Quifeng’s response is literally “Tell them I’m not here,” and when the disciple wants to know how he can possibly say that, Qiufeng’s response is literally “Say I went out. Say I’m sick. Say I’m dead.” (OMG, Zongzhu can’t see you right now, he’s dead!)

#wen kexing #zhou zishu #gu xiang #han ying #zhang chengling #yu qiufeng #word of honor #word of honor episode reax

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kakashiswilloffire · 3 years

Text

Friend Killer Kakashi

ao3

words: 2.2k

warnings: angst, mention of gore, mention of vomit, no comfort

He was ready to crawl out of his own skin. His whole body flushed with waves of heat, prickling uncomfortably in his chest, like thousands of pins jabbing both inside and outside of himself. He stopped, gripping the counter to hold himself steady while he dragged shallow breaths into his lungs. He knew he needed to take a deep breath, he was telling himself to take a deep fucking breath, even just one, why can’t he just even breathe correctly, how the fuck was he supposed—

The sound of his fist interrupted him before he’d even realized he had struck out. Knowing it would be several minutes before the pain really set in, he smacked his hand against the counter again and shook his head viciously. Silver strands, oilier than he usually let them get, stung as they met skin while the weight of his hair shifted.

He sucked air thickly into his nostrils then pawed at his nose, grimacing at the spices that overwhelmed the air around him. He tossed the pan into the sink, not caring that it still sizzled or that the oil splashed onto the cold tiles beneath him. He was trying to make pan fried eggplant to go with the premade miso soup he’d picked up last week. It had been a shitty week and he just wanted to make his favorite meal to make everything hurt a little bit less. There was no way it’d be as good as what Gai made, or whatever Dai had done when he first made it for him, but Kakashi figured it would do, and since it would be the first thing he had cooked himself all week, there should be some sense of achievement and dopamine to relish in when it was done. Unfortunately, it had gone terribly.

He couldn’t remember exactly what spices went on the eggplant. Salt, pepper, minced garlic, and then Gai would riff from there. Kakashi hated that—he was fine as long as he could follow a recipe. Gai, however, could just pour a splash of soy, or a squeeze of lemon, or even a drizzle of honey on anything and it was phenomenal, and also, unrepeatable. He could remember what the version he wanted tonight should taste like, and it didn’t matter what bottles he shook out into the pan, it never smelled right. The oil just kept popping onto his arms and hands, and the eggplant got slimier, and everything started to smell way too strong.

Kakashi Hatake, master of a thousand jutsu, and fucking garbage at cooking.

Whatever.

Running his hand along his forehead, he tried to find a single thought to focus on rather than the swirling mess in his head. Rin’s death a few months ago had hit him hard, much like he had hit her. He knew Gai hated to hear him think like that, but she would be alive if he hadn’t been there. If his hand hadn’t crushed through her chest, her ribs scraping along—

He lurched forward, the smell of the kitchen and the visceral memories getting to him at last. His shoulders jerked erratically as he retched into the tiny sink then sunk to his knees. The cold of the floor helped ground him while he wrapped his muscled arms around his stomach, leaning his head against the cabinet until the room stopped spinning.

Pathetic.

Obito would be absolutely pissed to know this was what he died for.

Gai wouldn’t be back from his mission for at least four more days. Kakashi was on a temporary leave pending the results of the investigation into Rin’s death. Ibiki had tried to reassure him the other day that unofficially it was looking good, and should turn out in his favor soon. He was almost certain to be found not at fault. Kakashi had scoffed—even if that was the official ruling, her murder was entirely his fault.

While they weren’t living together, Gai had taken it upon himself years ago to have a spare key, or maybe several spare keys, to his apartment copied and he kept one in a pocket in that garish green spandex at all times. With everything going on, Gai had been by every other day or so that he was in the village. The couch still had a crumpled blanket at one end he had used the last time he stayed overnight, and the one throw pillow with the Hatake crest that Gai wouldn’t let him get rid of. He tossed it out of his way as he flopped down on his back, letting his legs kick up and rest over the top of the dingy couch.

Why did anyone bother with him? Why would Ibiki go to the effort of leaking confidential information about his investigation to him? Why would Asuma invite him out for drinks every Friday night? Why would Kurenai and Genma leave bottles of sake in his mailbox with notes that everything would be fine? Why would Gai.. anything relating to him?

He couldn’t even hold the memories back long enough to successfully make dinner. He hadn’t even reheated the miso soup, and that was only two steps. He couldn’t save Obito, he couldn’t save Rin, he couldn’t convince Gai to leave well enough alone.

What if Gai was next?

Fuck.

He couldn’t let Gai be next. There were a lot of things he had failed at, but damned if he wouldn’t succeed in this. He could not, under any circumstances, let Gai any closer, any further into his life. The further away he could get the overly-enthusiastic shinobi, the better.

He nodded, swinging his legs around to the edge of the couch and letting that propel him into a seated position from which he sprang up. He walked over to the tiny end table and wrenched open the single overstuffed drawer, digging through for a pad of paper and the first writing instrument he could find, a blue pen with the academy’s logo printed on it.

Gai—

I don’t know how to tell you this, but you have to stay away from me. It’s for your own good. No one close to me is safe, even from me.

Sorry. Please understand.

—Kakashi

He read over the messily scrawled note, then tore the sheet off the pad and crumbled it in a fist. There’s no way Gai could read that and not have about a billion questions. Especially with how they had relied on each other through the years, from Dai’s death to Rin’s, this wouldn’t be remotely good enough to get Gai to stay away.

He sat down on the couch again, tapping the pen absentmindedly against the faded lined paper. What do you say to someone to convince them to be done with you completely?

When the key scraped into the lock, he froze.

The door swung wide open, Gai slumping into the apartment. His jumpsuit was nicked and torn and his hair didn’t have its usual luster. He was clearly exhausted, though not chakra exhausted. Kakashi felt the familiar pangs of panic begin to hit—how was he back so soon?

“Hey, ‘Kashi. The client blew the mission terms totally out of proportion—he made it seem like it’d be almost an A rank, and instead it was like a grueling C rank. We’re still not sure if the pay will be adjusted accordingly, but Ebisu is arguing it shouldn’t be because we did still run into trouble—Stone ninja near the border tried to take Chouza out. Recognized him somehow, but no worries, Konoha’s magnificent Green Beast was on the scene and we handled them without any major issues.” He grinned and flexed, posing for a moment before relaxing now that he had reached his destination and sliding his vest off and onto the hook by the door.

“How have you been? You eaten yet? Yakiniku is running a special according to Chouza—he asked me to join him for a post-mission meal and I told him I’d have to swing by here and see if you wanted to tag along. You like their short rib, right? Or are you still on the vegetarian kick?”

It never failed to impress Kakashi how Gai could fill a space, whether it be with his words, his personality, or his posing. No matter how he did it, though, it always was genuine and warm, and it was nearly impossible to maintain the solemn composure he frequently fronted. They made a nice contrast as a pair. Shame they would never have the chance to explore the friendship further.

He looked down at the crumpled paper on the ground and kicked it under the couch, setting the pad and pen aside. Unfortunately, he was going to have to explain in person.

He walked past Gai without making eye contact, the other man stepping out of his way without resistance. He lifted the vest off the hook next to his own vest, brought it briefly to his own chest, and immediately regretted it when the scent of his rival slammed into him. Once again, he shook his head vigorously, then shoved the vest back at Gai.

“Get out.”

He laughed, taking the vest back and slipping it on without understanding. “Want yours as well?” he asked, reaching for the door.

Kakashi felt flushed again, realizing that Gai meant for them to get dinner together. He walked back into the small living room, keeping his back to the door.

“Don’t need it. Get out.”

Gai’s laugh died in his chest, questions rising to the surface. “I… You okay? Did something happen while I was gone? Your investigation results? I told Ibiki to send word if they made the announcement, that asshole—”

“No, Gai. Nothing happened. I just…” Kakashi swallowed and felt his heart frost over. “Just did some thinking. Realized I’m better off without you.”

He scoffed. “Very funny, Kakashi. Come on, grab a jacket or something, Chouza said he’d wait on me to get back.”

“I mean it, Gai. You’re holding me back. The stupid challenges, do you think I actually care? I’ve always been stronger than you, and now that I’ve got the Sharingan, it’s comical, competing against you. I can see all your moves from miles away. You broadcast like a bull. You’re loud, annoying, and a useless ninja. I want you out of my life.”

There was silence for more than a full minute. It might have been as long as the two of them had gone without speaking, ever. Then Gai crossed to Kakashi in two steps, grabbing his left shoulder and spinning him around to face him.

“I know you’re not saying all that ‘cause you mean it, Kakashi. Look me in the eyes and think about this.”

Kakashi steeled himself, making full eye contact with the single grey eye. “Why don’t you think about it, Gai? Honestly? What kind of a ninja can’t even use ninjutsu? Everyone’s just humoring you and letting you make a fool of yourself. You’re a walking lesson in how to not be a shinobi.”

Gai blinked hard, his eyes beginning to shimmer. He cocked his head to the side, his grip on his rival’s shoulder only strengthening.

“’Kashi, I know things are hard for you. I know your brain lies to you sometimes. It’s okay. Listen, we’ll stay here tonight, I’ll cook, we can watch a movie or something, I’ll keep watch so you can sleep and we’ll talk more in the morning. There’s no pressure. I care about you, Kakashi. Let me help you.”

His eyes were swimming now, the passion making tears roll slowly down his face. The silver-haired man refused to move or answer. Swallowing, he made one last effort to persuade him. “Kakashi… please. Don’t do this. I love you.”

Kakashi’s heart, freeze dried, now shattered, crumbling into a powder and blowing away on a light breeze. Of course Gai loved him, and he loved Gai, but could Gai really mean that he… could he love him the way?—

Impossible.

No. Of course not. And even if he did, that just put him in all the more danger.

His resolve strengthened, he scowled back. “Fuck off, Gai. A ninja that only uses taijutsu is useless in battle. Don’t you remember how your dad died? Couldn’t save himself, could barely save you. What did you even do to try and help him?”

He was grateful for the fist that slammed into his jaw, shutting him up and knocking him into the wall.

“Fuck off, Hatake.”

He only dimly registered the door slamming, and possibly coming off its’ hinges. After a beat, a glint of silver flew through the air and lodged into the wall directly opposite the door. Slowly, he gathered himself up and limped over to it, realizing with a sharp ache that it was the key to his apartment. Turning to the mirror propped near the door, he stared down the version of him with grey circles under his eyes, thumbing at the blood growing at the corner of his mouth.

Friend-Killer Kakashi was starting to sound more like him by the moment.

#kakashi can't cook #kakagai #kakagai angst #kakashi angst #kakashi hatake #maito gai #might guy #kakashi oneshot

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girlboss-molina · 3 years

Text

Be Who You Are (No Compromise)

A Julie and the Phantoms Modern Royalty AU

Chapter 8: Rules of Engagement

AO3 Link

Words: 8988

-----

Julie POV

…

Julie remembered the day they’d first announced the marriage. She, Ray, Carlos, and Reggie were visiting Tambor, before Queen Claire and King Xavier had sprung the question on them. Ray had vehemently disagreed, but they’d insisted that he raise it to the council. And when it passed, Julie remembered the exact green glow of the screens reflecting on her dad’s face, and she’d shaken her head, stormed out of the Tamborian royal office with Alex right behind her, angry tears streaming down her face as she’d ran back to her room.

She and Alex were pissed. They were angry, scared, sad, horrified, and betrayed. Alex especially. He’d never come out to his parents, but he’d still explained how horrible he felt, as if his parents were doing it to spite him.

There had been lots of not-so-royal language used that day, and today was no different.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?” Julie shouted, not caring if her walls weren’t soundproof. She’d stayed silent the whole walk back to her room with Alex and the brief passing of Reggie, who’d gotten the details from Alex. Now it was her time to freak out.

“I’m officially ready to fake my death, Lex,” she decided, fists by her sides. She hated this. Since when did they get to control her life? It was her life, for God’s sake! Princess or not, nobody should have to be in an arranged marriage.

Her voice choked.

“I’m not, really,” she admitted, “but I want to. If it means we get to run our own goddamn lives, I”ll do it.” She tore a hand through her hair and blinked back tears to no avail.

“I’m so sorry,” Julie finally said. “You don’t deserve any of this.”

“Neither do you.” Alex mussed his hair and sat on the end of her bed as she paced. “It’s majorly fucked up.”

“It really is! I didn’t choose to be Princess Julie Molina, Heiress to the throne of Dahlia.” She said her own long title in a faux posh voice, gagging at the sound and bile rising in her throat. She walked into her bathroom, fixing her hair to be natural and down, nothing braided or tied. Angrily scrubbing tears away, Julie stalked to her closet and changed into sweatpants and a big t-shirt, not bothering to pick up her suit off the floor.

“We have to raise major hell for the council members who voted for this,” Alex decided as she walked back out.

“As much as possible,” she agreed.

Worn out, she flopped next to him. He wrapped his arm around her and she squeezed him in a friendly hug, letting his head rest on her shoulder. She felt a tear soak through her shirt, but didn’t care. He needed this.

“Fucking hell,” he said.

“Amen to that.” That elicited a halfhearted laugh, and Julie smiled a bit.

“It’ll be okay,” she finally said.

“No, it won’t. But we’ll survive.”

“Yeah.”

…

“Ow, Mira!” Julie exclaimed, trying not to move as Mira quickly moved the pin by her side as she marked the fabric for the outline of her wedding dress. It was a very tedious process; Julie looked like she was wrapped in giant pieces of fabric and lace… because she pretty much was. Mira and two other tailors were taking exact measurements to make sure the dress fit perfectly, then they would sew it and make adjustments as needed.

Unfortunately, that meant Julie had to stand very, very still and hope she wouldn’t get stabbed by the needles.

She wasn’t having much luck.

If she’d counted correctly, Mira (and the other girls, Soleil and Jenna), had accidentally poked her twelve times, in varying places, but generally around the side, waist, and shoulders.

“Sorry!” Mira said through her teeth. “Just trying to get this fitted properly.”

“It’s okay,” she sighed, doing her best not to slouch. MIra’s hands fell.

“If you want to talk about it…”

“Thanks.” In all honesty, she did not- especially since she didn’t know Soleil or Jenna very well, and didn’t want to spill her guts about hating the wedding when they were around. Plus… talking about it just made it more real.

“Your highness, this dress is going to be stunning on you,” noted Soleil excitedly, further proving her point.

“I bet,” she said with as much faux enthusiasm as she could muster. “You guys are incredible.”

“Aww, thanks!” replied Jenna. Julie gave a smile, but it looked more like a grimace than anything else.

…

After the grueling process of getting legally stabbed by her best friend over and over with tiny blades for the purpose of creating a goddamn wedding dress, Julie changed into more comfortable clothes; a t- shirt and jeans.

There was going to be a storm blowing in tonight, so she figured she may as well go outside before she would end up soaked. But, who would she find sulking in the field but a certain snarky gay?

She stood for a moment, watching him pick at the grass, before finally sighing.

“Why don’t we go work on a song?” she suggested. “I can get Luke and Reggie, plus the rest of the group if you want, and we can work out some stress.” Alex shrugged. Julie waited for a few minutes, hating how depressed he was. She was too, of course, but what kind of friend would she be if she let one of her best friends sit alone and feel sorry for himself? Besides, she was aching to work on song.

“Alright,” he finally replied, and Julie smiled.

“Awesome.” She stuck her hands in her pockets

“Let’s go, drummer boy.”

…

Playing the piano had always been therapeutic for Julie, until her mom passed away. Then she’d hardly been able to listen to any music without being reminded of her. But she was back on her groove, and the keys were familiar in the way you could sink into your best friend’s arms and know you were home.

She played the opening chords and began to sing, closing her eyes and feeling like it was just her and the piano in a universe of music and colors.

When Luke, Reggie, and Alex jumped in at the chorus, she opened her eyes and jumped up with the mic, dancing around as she belted out each note with more conviction than before. She walked around the room as she sang, dancing with Reggie, Alex, and Luke. She wandered over to where the rest of the group was sitting and dancing along, and she gave Willie a high-five as she passed him.

Luke sang the second prechorus with her, and the smile on his face only grew. THey harmonized each note, voices melding together as the music rose and Alex jumped in with the drums as they went into the next chorus, singing an ode to hope and persistence.

During the bridge, Luke held her gaze the entire time, and her heart soared as she belted out the last bridge note, riffing as the others held the background vocals.

When the song ended, her hair was frizzy and heart pounding, but she felt alive and free. She fistbumped Reggie, grinning, and hugging Flynn, who told her over and over that they were incredible, and that she was assigning herself the role of band manager. Carrie had automatically volunteered to be the costume designer, and Mira had taken offense to that, because “I’m literally her lady-in-waiting, Wilson!”

Julie couldn’t help but laugh at her friends.

“Okay,” Flynn finally said, “girl time.” Julie laughed but agreed, waving to the guys as she wrapped her arms around Flynn’s and Mira’s shoulders, Carrie on Flynn’s other side.

They walked out of the studio and wandered all throughout the palace, chattering mindlessly about everything and nothing. Mira insisted that mint chocolate chip ice cream was the superior ice cream, to which Flynn retorted “totally! Like, are you ever eating chocolate and you think ‘hey, you know what would go great with this? Toothpaste!’” Carrie had promptly lost her shit, and Julie was the only one on team rocky road.

“Personally,” Carrie said, “I-”

“We know, you like neapolitan you fucking lesbian,” Flynn said with a grin. Carrie gasped in mock offense.

“Hypocrisy at its finest! You’re just as lesbian as they come.”

“I never claimed to not be a hypocrite,” Flynn defended. Carrie huffed and crossed her arms.

“I’m breaking up with you. We’re broken up now.”

“Fine, but I get custody of Julie!”

“Wait, since when am I your child?”

“Since we’re both older than you,” they told her in unison.

“Uh huh, yeah, by a couple weeks! I’m a legal adult, and neither of you get custody of me.”

“I’m disowning you,” Carrie declared.

“Me too,” agreed Flynn.

“Me three,” Mira chimed in.

“Oh for the love of-”

Their playful bickering continued for at least an hour, wandering the long halls of the palace, weaving in and out of corridors and dragging their hands along railings.

The wedding never crossed Julie’s mind once.

Despite the whole situation, they still managed to be lighthearted and have useless arguments, bicker and love each other all the same. Julie hugged them closer, relishing the warmth of having them close to her. Carrie’s strawberry shampoo was faintly there and she breathed it in, calming immediately. Flynn linked their pinkies together, and Mira kept her hand on Julie’s shoulder. Julie didn’t realize she was crying until Flynn asked if she was okay.

“Yeah,” she said, and it was strangely true. She wiped her eyes. “I’m not even upset right now, but I’m still crying. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“I do,” Carrie informed her.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Absolutely nothing.”

-----

Reggie POV

…

Reggie sat in the studio, suit vest draped over an empty guitar stand as he sat on the piano bench, sleeves rolled to his elbows and hands on the keys, silent but arranging themselves in chords. He hummed to himself quietly, sighing and closing his eyes.

As he played the first chord, soulful and melancholy, he started to sing.

“We’re no strangers to the dark

Every time we find the light

But no matter how much it hurts

Glowsticks have to break before they shine.”

He closed his eyes, letting the chords play only from muscle memory. Normally, he didn’t do much songwriting on his own, but this song, Glowsticks, was one that he’d written for Julie after Rose’s passing. He’d never gotten around to giving it to her, though, because of how much her love for music was affected. For a year, she hadn’t played or sang a note, and he knew that it would’ve been too painful.

Eventually, he’d forgotten about it.

But when he’d seen the heartbroken look on her face the hour before, coming back from the royal office with dry eyes but hollow and chipped, the memory of the page he’d torn out of his journal and stuffed in a drawer came flooding back.

And now here he was, like it was only yesterday he’d written the chords, shaky with tears but determined. This time, his eyes were dry and his hands steady, but his heart ached for Julie, for Alex, for Luke, for Willie.

His voice started out lighter and airy, with a slight rasp as he played the soft melody along with the base, but as he reached the second chorus, his voice sank to his chest, belting out the lyrics and playing the piano strongly, chords echoing in the soundproof room, the acoustics bending his voice to all angles until he was wrapped in a song of tragedy and pain and strength and hope, earthy and rich but airy and light.

“So breathe

Just breathe

You're already shining

You can break

You’ll be okay

I'll keep you safe until you rise.”

His breath shook as he flipped the last word from a powerful chest voice to a soft, airy falsetto, sighing as he played the last, low chord.

Reggie left his eyes closed, slowly taking his hands off the keys, resting his elbows on his knees and turning, finally letting the light pierce his eyes.

…

“Your highness,” called a palace staff member. “If I could steal you for a few minutes, could you give your opinions on possible place settings for the wedding?”

“Yeah sure,” Reggie replied, standing from the large leather couch in the palace living room, doing his best to smile at the young man. He was tall, and muscularly built, but his freckles, wide brown eyes, and messy red hair were proof that he was probably the human embodiment of sunshine.

“We were thinking white with gold accents,” he said, swiping through a few photos on his tablet. Reggie did his best to pay attention; they were, admittedly, beautiful. Soft white tablecloths and napkins lined with plates, each plate with gold paint on the rim, the wine glasses clear cut crystal, the same golden lining as the plates.

“That’s beautiful,” Reggie agreed. “Julie and Alex would love that.”

“I’m glad you think so! My advisor was skeptical, but I think it’s a nice scheme.”

“I do too.” He looked away, hating that he was giving suggestions for his sister’s unwanted wedding.

“Your highness, are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he assured him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Sure,” he said softly. “Did you have any thoughts for flowers?”

“Dahlias,” Reggie said after a moment. “They were our mom’s favorite, and they’re Julie’s favorite too. I think she’d like purple.”

“Purple dahlias,” the man repeated. He opened an interior design modeling app, dragging tables around the virtual room and adding glass vases with bouquets of dahlias, plus the occasional orchid scattered throughout. Reggie stared in awe; even though it was just a digital rendition of the ballroom, it was gorgeous. The crackled marble floors shone in the light of lanterns and string lights, adorned with pillars and tables arranged in neat rows. He felt like he was in the ballroom, getting a peek at the future.

And yet, his heart sank.

It seemed to do that a lot lately.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Reggie met the man’s eyes. “You seem pretty down.” He sighed.

“I am, but I’ll be okay.”

“Alright. I’m Elliot, by the way.”

“I’m Reggie! Nice to meet you.”

“You too!”

…

“Dad, are you sure there’s no way to stop the wedding?” Reggie had gone to see Ray in the royal office an hour ago, to discuss an assortment of things, but always returning to the wedding.

“I’m sure. I hate it as much as you do, believe me, but I’ve explored every option.” Reggie shook his head.

“There has to be something-”

“Mijo, you can look all you want, but there’s nothing we can safely do. Even though there are multiple ways to stop the wedding, it wouldn’t be safe. There would be tension between Dahlia and Tambor, maybe even Krypto. Best case scenario would be rumors and unrest in our own kingdom, but even with that, Julie and Alex would be the subject of a ton of scandal for the rest of their lives.”

“I just hate it.”

“Believe me, I do too. I’ve done everything in my power, but I can’t endanger millions of people.”

“I know. And Julie wouldn’t want you to, either.”

“Exactly.” Ray pulled him into a hug, and Reggie buried his head in his shoulder. “Mijo, I’m so sorry. You’re a good brother.”

“Thanks,” he whispered. Ray nodded.

Someone knocked on the door. Reggie pulled out of the hug and, when Ray nodded again, he opened the door to see a short woman with pale skin and straight, dark hair reaching her shoulders, and bangs brushing her eyebrows. Her wide eyes were behind round glasses, and she gave a bright smile.

“Ah, Prince Reginald, just who I wanted to see! I’m Esther Pearlridge of the Dahlian Times. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions regarding your sister’s upcoming wedding?” Reggie glanced at his dad, who didn’t object, but gave him a look that seemed to say, it’ll be okay.

“Sure.”

“Your majesty,” Esther said to Ray, “you’re welcome to come along.” He agreed, and Reggie was eternally grateful.

…

“Your highness-”

“Please, call me Reggie,” he told her. Esther smiled.

“Reggie, the news of the wedding’s date being moved up came as a pleasant surprise to everyone across Dahlia, and surely Tamborian citizens as well. What are your thoughts on the matter?”

“Well,” he began, clearing his throat. “It’s definitely a unique situation. And while it is exciting, what a lot of people don’t consider is how stressful it must be for Princess Julie and Prince Alex. I mean, Alex is my age, Julie about a year younger. Arranged marriages are already very fraught situations, but this one especially.”

Ray smiled from his position behind Esther, letting him know he’d played it well.

“Of course,” she replied sympathetically. “That is a perspective that not many people consider.”

“Yeah.”

“How do you feel about Prince Alexander?”

“Oh, Alex is great! He’s quickly become one of my closest friends. Although, his taste in Star Wars characters is questionable. Everyone knows Han Solo is the best, right Esther?”

“Obviously! Though, I was always partial to Leia, myself.”

“Valid,” Reggie agreed.

“Moving on to the next question, what do you think will come of Prince Alexander becoming the Dahlian Prince Consort as your sister, Princess Julie, ascends to the throne?”

“Well, Dahlia is currently doing amazing. Homelessness rates are at an all-time low and still dropping; at this rate, they’re projected to reach zero by next Summer. Wealth equality is stabilizing even more, and our education system is constantly being revised and reviewed by scientists and historians to make sure the content is correct and unbiased, as well as by child psychologists to make them good learning environments for students. And our environmental status is one of the best in the world, second to the Republic of Isala. Greenhouse gases in our region are extremely low, and the CO2 levels are dropping as our reforestation teams plant more and more trees along the grasslands.

“Knowing my sister, and Prince Alex, I have no doubt that they will lead our country further into the future. Especially Julie; she may be a princess, but take it from her brother: she’s stubborn as all hell, but always about the right things. She and Alex will face struggles, as all people do, but I’m positive they’ll do great things.”

“That’s so nice to hear. And from other people, we’ve heard that they expect Princess Julie to be the best, most connected ruler in Dahlian history. Do you think this is true?”

“I would expect it to be, yeah! Julie really tries to connect with people, and tries to see things through others’ points of view. She’s always done that. She doesn’t want to stay secluded in a palace; honestly, I doubt anyone could keep her here if they tried.”

Esther laughed. “If I may ask, how are preparations for the wedding going?” Reggie fought the rising sadness in his chest.

“They’re going great! Although I’m pretty sure Julie’s gotten stabbed a few hundred times by the needles her lady-in-waiting is using to fit her dress.” Esther laughed again.

“Well, that’s all the time we have. Thank you so much, your highness. Always a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Yeah, you too! Thanks.”

As Esther rushed away, laptop under her arm and a pencil over her ear, Ray gave Reggie a warm smile.

“You did perfect,” he told him. “Excellently played.”

“Thanks. I just wish I actually felt as optimistic as I sounded.”

“It’ll be okay. I’m sure of it.”

-----

Willie POV

…

Willie’s phone buzzed with a text from Julie, with a request for their group to meet in her room, and if her tone was any indication, it wasn’t good. He ran to his quarters, doing his best to brush the flour Lilian had thrown at him after a witty remark out of his hair. Changing into a sweater and jeans, he made his way up the curving staircase and down the long hallway before knocking gently at Julie’s door.

“Come in.”

He walked in, heart sinking when he saw the upset look on Alex’s face.

“What happened?” Carrie asked from behind him, walking in with Flynn by her side. They were soon followed by Luke, Reggie, Erik, and MIra.

“They moved up the wedding,” Julie finally said, her fists curled. Willie’s heart dropped all the way to the ground, leaving his veins pumping blood made by nothing more than an organ beating rhythmically, called the heart but only doing what was necessary for physical survival. His actual heart, his emotions and love and memories, all froze, and he shook his head vigorously, forcing it to settle back in the center of his chest, taking a deep breath.

“Why?” he had to ask. Alex snorted.

“My parents gave an ultimatum disguised as helpful advice.” Each word was dripping with venom, but there was sadness behind it. Willie took his hand, feeling him clutch back as if he were the only thing holding him together.

“And there’s nothing you can do to stop it?” Flynn asked. “I mean, you and Jules are the Prince of Tambor and Princess of Dahlia. There has to be something you can do… right?” Julie shook her head.

“Nope. There’s been so much buildup and excitement that there might be riots and tension between our countries if we called it off so abruptly. We can’t risk anyone getting hurt.”

“Okay, but-”

“Mira, treason would definitely get people hurt.”

“Jules,” Mira said, “you have a good heart. It’s super annoying.” Willie cracked a grin at that, as did Alex.

“Even then, though,” Alex cut in, “my parents clearly want this. And they’re super influential. I wouldn’t even be surprised if they threatened trade routes but made it seem like it was for the ‘greater good.’”

“I hate to admit it,” Reggie said, “but he’s right. Sweet words can be even more dangerous than declarations of war. Especially if they twist the blame.”

…

After another hour of scheming, ranting, and trying to lighten the mood, Alex fell asleep near the wall in Julie’s room, curled up against a pillow. Willie watched him softly breathe, looking so much more peaceful in rest.

“We should let him rest,” Julie said. “It’s not like our group hasn’t done slumber parties before.”

“Yeah,” Carrie agreed. “He needs sleep.”

“All of us do,” Erik pointed out. Willie nodded, sitting next to Alex and putting his hand on his shoulder. Everyone found a spot and drifted off, and Willie had a feeling he was the last one awake. But, soon, he was able to curl up against Alex and find himself in a deep, dreamless sleep.

…

Willie had never been so grateful that he hadn’t been asked to bake.

He wasn’t sure if he could handle baking wedding cake samples for this situation. Any other time, sure, but not when the guy he was in love with was being forced to marry their other friend, neither of whom were interested.

He stared at the mirror, eyes blank. He hated the numbness overtaking him. He’d done his best to stay positive, to remember all the tips he’d picked up for focusing and not getting dragged under, and while they’d worked to some extent, he couldn’t deny the fracture in his heart. They were powerless; ironic, considering they were all either royal or close acquaintances of royals.

But, even with all of that supposed power at their fingertips, they couldn’t do the one thing they wanted to.

He wasn’t sure just how long he stared blankly at his reflection, but when his phone buzzed with a text from Julie, telling their group that they were going to practice in the studio, he made himself plaster on a smile and go join them. He hadn’t seen Alex play a full song before; this should be fun.

When Julie started the song, her powerful piano playing moved the whole room, voice strong and bright as she sang the first verse. Then, in the prechorus, she led into the big, adrenaline-pumping beat with a riff and belt,before finally going into the chorus. But all Willie could see wasAlex, whose face was a bit red from playing the drums, hair falling in his eyes,his pink t-shirt rather tight against his biceps. Willie was sure he was blushing, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

As Alex held the beat, Willie tapped his foot and grinned, letting the upbeat song envelop him despite their melancholy circumstances. Julie and Luke belted out the lyrics, harmonizing with such grace that Willie wasn’t convinced that soulmates didn’t exist; if they did, Julie and Luke fit the model. And Alex and Reggie sang the background vocals flawlessly, adding depth to the song with their steady music.

When the song ended, Willie’s heart was pounding. He clapped with the rest of the group, standing up, but unable to speak. God, Alex had such an insane effect on him. Normally he was smooth, able to recover and flip around. He’d thought it impossible to fluster him; but, then again, Alex had a rather annoying habit of making the impossible seem like child’s play.

Then, Alex ran his hand through his hair in an unfairly hot way - the inconsiderate bastard. Willie did his best to settle his blush, but to no avail. He giggled as Alex tried to brush off a compliment but finally accepted it.

He stammered through a compliment, hating how flustered he was. And then, because the universe had it out for him, Alex pulled him in and kissed his temple. If Willie hadn’t already melted, that would’ve been the tipping point.

Somehow, though, he found the ability to breathe again.

…

“Dude, I can’t say this enough,” Willie stressed, “that was amazing! You guys seriously need to go on tour.” Alex’s musical laugh filled the air.

“Flynn has already assigned herself band manager. With her ‘in charge,’ we’ll probably be playing gig after gig- well, you know, when Julie isn’t busy running a country.” WIllie laughed.

“Yeah, fair point. But still! Your guys’s song is going to be stuck in my head forever.”

“Forever?”

“I have ADHD, ‘Lex. Don’t underestimate the song sticking.” It was true; ADHD had its pros and cons, but one aspect that seemed to be both was his brain’s innate ability to have twenty-nine songs stuck all at once, and the strange fact that the How to Train your Dragon main theme, Kahoot music, Beethoven’s 5th Symphony, Roses by The Band CAMINO, and Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) could all be combined to the same tempo- and the fact that it slapped.

As they walked through the long, windowed corridors, Willie got an idea. He grabbed Alex’s hand.

“Follow me!”

“What? Where are we going?”

“You’ll see!” They raced all the way to the west side of the palace, where Willie led him up a narrow flight of stairs, pushing open a door to reveal-

“Whoa,” Alex gasped in awe. “The roof?”

“The roof,” Willie agreed. “Cooler than you’d expect, huh?”

“Way.” Willie grinned; it was a beautiful view. The river curved and rushed around the bases of snow-capped mountains with forests decorating their slopes, and as he turned, the capital city of Dahlia was nestled between rolling hills, thousands of lights sparkling in houses, apartments, shops, restaurants, and offices. Headlights danced along the highways, and the striking comparison of the bright lights versus the dark, cloudy sky made for a dramatic view.

“Storm’s blowing in,” Willie observed as it began to pour, soaking his hair. Alex cracked up.

“You sure?” he asked. “This is the best weather this side of Constantinople.”

“Ah, but remember, now it’s Istanbul- not Constantinople.”

“Well, why did Constantinople get the works?” Willie giggled.

“That’s nobody’s business but the Turks.”

“You are such a dork,” Alex informed him, pulling him closer.

“I know!” He had to raise his voice over the rain, and Alex’s cheeks were flushed with the cold. Willie felt a calm rush of confidence wash over him with the falling rain, and he stood on his toes, reaching up to hold Alex’s jaw as he kissed him. Alex kissed back immediately, and sparks shot down Willie’s spine.

As he deepened the kiss, thunder rolled across the mountains. The clouds were practically black, but it gave a sort of calmness and confidence with it, like the soothing darkness of night cloaked with clouds of expectancy, waiting and hoping and understanding that love finds comfort in the dark, that there are risks in life, but that they had to be taken, because while the world might not have been made for them, they were made for the world. People, caught up in dreaming about what could be, lost sight of what is; so determined to be right and prove that someone else was wrong that they drive themselves mad.

“I’m gone on you,” Willie finally whispered, eyes closed and forehead against Alex’s. Alex didn’t respond, kissing him again. He sank into it, holding him close and letting the rain wash over them and combing his fingers through Alex’s hair.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he heard sizzling.

Without thinking, Willie jumped and tackled Alex, turning so he hit the ground and Alex landed safely on top of him. The rain blurred his eyes, but he heard crackling and felt the heat of the lightning striking the roof a hundred feet away from them.

“Son of a motherfuck what just happened?!” Alex asked. Willie could hear his heart pounding in his ears, but he couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped his lips.

“I think you fell for me,” Willie joked. Alex rolled his eyes. He grinned; Alex was still laying on top of him, and Willie’s back was soaked by the puddle they’d landed in, but they’d avoided being struck by lightning, which was decidedly a good thing.

“That was too close,” Alex decided. “We should probably go inside before anything else happens.”

“Probably.” Neither of them moved for a moment, until Willie leaned up and pecked Alex on the nose, who immediately turned bright red, even visible in the darkness between the rising night and falling clouds.

-----

Alex POV

…

Alex had known his life was never his. If you’re born into royalty, unless you leave the royal family, you’re stuck there, and it influences your life forever.

He knew that.

And yet, until the wedding was moved up, it hadn’t really hit him.

His life wasn’t his, and it never would be.

He would be forced to be in the public eye, forced to marry a girl he wasn’t in love with, forced to live the rest of his life away from the person he was in love with, forced to watch the girl, one of his best friends, pretend to be okay as if she wasn’t also being separated from the person she loved. He would be forced to plaster on a smile, forced to live with this so that chaos wouldn’t erupt in Dahlia and Tambor.

So that he and the people he loved wouldn’t be exiled.

Alex was tired of being strong. He’d always been told by his friends that he was strong for dealing with this, strong for bearing the stresses of being put into politics so young, strong for hiding who he was from his parents because he knew it would only bring more pain, strong, strong strong. He wished he didn’t have to be.

“Hey, Alex?” Julie eventually asked, directing his attention away from his thoughts and his glazed eyes half-scrolling his Instagram. They’d been sitting for over an hour as the sun set outside Julie’s window, not speaking much aside from angry rants when they’d just gotten out of the royal office.

“Yeah?”

“Should we text the group chat to meet here so we can update all of them? Or would you rather not?” Alex sighed.

“We probably should. Not like we can hide from it.”

“Yeah.”

treason buddies

juju: Hey guys, some shit went down. Meet in my room?

flynnigan: oh fuck, do we even want to know?

juju: Probably not, but you should.

speed bump: i’ll be up in a sec, i’m trying to get flour out of my hair alkjdfskjldf

Me: skjlsdfkjlsdf lilian i assume

speed bump: yep, the bastard

rockstar mcsleeveless: i’ll be there in a sec. are you guys ok?

juju: Not really, but we’ll live

care bear: omw

short stack: same

personal stylist: i’ll be there in a minute

Alex clicked off his phone once the typing bubbles had all disappeared, blowing out a tired breath as he flopped backwards, half-hoping the fading sunset would let him dissolve with the growing twilight, let him become another fleck of light in a vast abyss that was somehow both cold and vast yet full of curiosity and glowing stars. What would it be like, floating in nothingness, waiting for someone to find you yet dreading the day your solitude ended?

Maybe he’d be part of a constellation. What one? Would he add to one that already existed, or would he be part of his very own? What would it look like? Maybe he’d be an owl, a drumstick, a wisp of a wish, floating in the air taking no shape at all, a shimmering question piquing the curiosity of anyone stargazing who happened upon his star, a gentle hope carried by a breeze, full of life and loss and wonder and apprehension.

Or maybe he’d be a shooting star, flying across the atmosphere in the blink of an eye, there, then gone in an instant, burning brighter as his fleeting life ended. Technically, they weren’t stars at all, they were tiny meteors the size of a grain of rice, only visible because of their dramatic, fiery demise. But maybe that was fitting. It wasn’t a star, and neither was Alex. He was more visible now than ever because of the marriage, bringing demise to his hopes like a burning scar, beautiful but painful to the individual.

It wasn’t a star, and neither was he. But shooting stars were meaningful, too. People wished on them; children, usually. But what a wonderful feeling it would be to have the hope of a child in your light.

The thought didn’t necessarily comfort him, but he didn’t feel as alone as before, didn’t feel quite as worthless.

…

After enduring the grueling process of venting and explaining the new situation to the rest of the group, trying to hold back one stubborn tear that kept fighting, Alex finally fell asleep. He wasn’t sure how “asleep” he actually was; he heard vague whispers of “we should let him rest,” and “all of us should.” But he couldn’t move, and he didn’t want to, either, so he left his weary eyes closed and slept, barely feeling someone’s hand on his shoulder and faint warmth next to him.

…

“Your highness,” a butler said, rushing up next to him with a tray, with tiny bites of cake arranged neatly across it. “Would you mind tasting these and telling me which three are your favorites?”

“Hm? Yeah, sure.” Ignoring the numbness fighting to grow in his chest, he tried each one, finally deciding on a few, and promising he’d sample the frostings later. Wedding cakes really weren’t something he wanted to be thinking about at the moment. He’d already had to stand still for hours while his suit was fitted, text Julie a million different pictures of flowers, to which she’d replied “just pick whichever one is poisonous so we can fake our deaths and leave it on our plates.”

He felt sick.

He did his best to avoid other people as he made his way out the back door of the palace, tearing a hand through his hair as he made his way to the field where he’d been with Willie, admiring (and despising) how much progress they’d made on the palace reconstruction. It was almost done, which was incredible, but horrible for him, since it meant they were almost done with the giant ballroom in which he would have to marry Julie.

All things considered, though it was beautiful; the creamy white pillars were identical to the ones on the other side of the palace, which had been repainted so it didn’t look patchy. Intricate flower beds were arranged at precise intervals, and the crystal-cut windows reflected sparkling mosaics of light onto the pathways. Lanterns hung on every pillar, unlit during the day but glowing with soft, gentle flames by night.

Alex sat in the middle of the field, picking at a stray blade of grass and relishing the warm sunlight on his neck, even though he was probably getting a crease on his crisp vest from how he was sitting, slouched as he sat on the hill, elbows on his knees.

After he’d sat and sulked for a considerable amount of time, Julie’s voice snapped him out of it.

“Why don’t we go work on a song?” she suggested. “I can get Luke and Reggie, plus the rest of the group if you want, and we can work out some stress.” Alex shrugged. He knew he was being immature, just sitting there and feeling sorry for himself, but it felt good to be immature. He should really do it more often.

But… there was a lump in the dirt that was giving his butt a bruise, and he didn’t feel like getting up just to sit back down, so he supposed he could go to the studio.

“Alright,” he finally said.

“Awesome.” the sadness in Julie’s voice was tangible, but she masked it well as she smiled and stuck her hands in the pockets of her baggy jeans, between the chain, and squared her shoulders.

“Let’s go, drummer boy.”

…

In the few days since he’d drummed, Alex had somehow forgotten just how therapeutic it was to bash a bunch of drums on a steady beat but still adding variety to spice things up. Julie had convinced him to let her invite the whole group- which, of course, included Willie, who was intently watching him play.

He bit his lip, breathing heavily, cheeks flushed as he kept going. A reluctant smile broke out on his face when Julie started singing the chorus and he jumped in with the toms and crash, flipping his hair out of his eyes and keeping the beat going. Reggie’s rhythmic bass playing combined perfectly with Luke’s chords and riffs, and Julie’s angelic voice tied it all together as if their music was a gift with a shiny bow.

When the bridge started, and Julie and Luke did their Thing™ (the whole dramatic, lovestruck staring-into-each-other’s-eyes move), Alex held the beat with a quiet, rhythmic tapping on the hi-hat. He and Reggie shared a look, and he swallowed the rising sadness in his throat, refusing to let some stupid marriage ruin this moment. They were in perfect harmony, bright with life and love. Then, when Julie went into the final belt, he came in strong with the drums, lip between his teeth and a huge smile begging to break free.

When it finally ended, Alex stood up excitedly, setting down his sticks and leaping across the kick drum to fistbump Luke.

“Alex, dude,” Luke said, “you were smoking.”

“Nah,” he deflected. “You guys-” he gestured to him, Reggie, and Julie “-were the ones on fire.”

“Dude.” Reggie lightly punched him on the shoulder. “Could you just own your awesomeness for once?” Alex rolled his eyes, but it was clear he wasn’t backing down.

“Alright, I was killing it.”

“Yeah,” Willie agreed from behind him. Alex whirled around, having forgotten he was there. He was sure his face was bright red, but hopefully he could blame that on the physical exertion that came with playing the drums. Willie, however, was blushing quite a bit, and Alex felt a bit of accomplishment bubbling up inside him.

“I’m glad you liked it,” he said with a grin.

“Are you kidding? I loved it.”

“I’ll say,” Flynn stage-whispered to Carrie, and Alex decided once and for all that Flustered Willie was his favorite. Willie cleared his throat.

“Yeah, I, uh-” he cut himself off, and Alex bit back a laugh, pulling him in and kissing him on the temple.

Alex knew there was a bubble of numbness and depression fighting to take hold of him, but at least for now, it was under control. He was filled with adrenaline and had their song stuck in his head, the feeling of his arm on Willie’s shoulder anchoring him like a ship in a harsh storm, letting him drift but holding him close.

They would make this work. Somehow.

“Should we run through it again? I was a little shaky during the second verse,” Julie said. Alex nodded.

“I’m down.”

“Same!” replied Luke and Reggie, and the rest of the group eagerly sat and watched. Alex grinned, raising his sticks.

“One, two, three, four!”

-----

Luke POV

…

“I’m so sorry,” Luke whispered. They’d moved up the wedding. The wedding that nobody wanted any part of, the wedding forcing the girl he was in love with to marry their friend, neither of whom were interested. They were already hurting so much, but there was nothing they could do anyways, then to add insult to injury, they’d moved up the wedding six weeks sooner. They didn’t even have two months, just a measly two weeks, and Luke could already feel them ticking away, feel his time with Julie ending, feel Alex’s heart breaking with each minute.

He reached up to hastily wipe away a traitorous tear rolling down his cheek, before wrapping Julie in a hug as she stood and walked to him. She buried her head in his chest, and his hand found her hair, combing through her thick curls.

…

At some point through the night, Alex had worn himself out venting and scheming plans to get out of the wedding and eventually fallen asleep. They’d considered waking him, but he was exhausted and really needed the rest. Luke still had his arm around Julie, leaning against the end of her bed sitting on a pile of pillows. Willie curled up next to Alex, and soon it had turned into another slumber party, but much more somber.

Julie’s soft breathing leveled, indicating that she’d fallen asleep as well. Luke smiled sadly; this was peaceful, but under horrible circumstances. But the gentle part of her lips as she breathed and the lack of a crease between her eyebrows made it worth it; she deserved any brief moment of peace she could get.

He traced soft circles on the shoulder of her t-shirt, running his finger over the hem rhythmically, a song playing in his head as he closed his eyes.

Golden specks flew around in the darkness as Luke whirled around, disoriented. A melodic voice in the background that he recognized but couldn’t place taunted his mind, flashes of brown eyes blinking by in an instant, a retreating curl of hair that might not have been there in the first place.

The ground solidified under his feet, metaphysical but firm for him to stand on. It was all black and glittered faintly in the soft light from stars that were somehow so close he could feel their heat, yet so far that they were like flecks of light in the endless black sky.

The packed black sand cracked beneath him with the sound of a woman’s gasp, sending him hurtling through the void, falling faster and faster as the sliver of light from the cracked ground above him faded until it was so small it wasn’t even visible anymore. The darkness was suffocating and hot as fire, yet thin and cool like a light sheet in the air, whispering silent nothings into his mind.

His back hit a new surface, knocking the wind out of him even though he couldn’t breathe at all. It was all black, the ground invisible, but a soft fog rolled across it, apprehensive but inviting and cool.

“You have to fight for what you want,” a voice whispered, and Luke was able to place it as the same voice as his mother when he was nervous for a competition in sixth grade.

“Things don’t always come easily,” another voice reminded him, the familiar sound of his father’s voice sending a shiver down his spine.

What was he supposed to fight for? There was nothing in this vast black expanse but him and these voices, plus a warm tingle to his right side that felt imaginary, but had a weight to it that he couldn’t help but relish.

The voices disappeared, even though they’d been silent, Luke could feel their absence. The smooth, invisible ground under his feet faded, leaving him floating as the fog disappeared, phasing into particles like stars that floated around him like fireflies as the world shifted to a regal, royal purple, swirling like a galaxy, the faint sound of a piano barely registering among the stars.

…

When Luke woke up, the warmth on his side made sense, because there was Julie, her head on his chest. He glanced over, seeing Willie and Alex sitting with their heads resting together, scrolling through their phones and occasionally showing their screens to the other and laughing quietly. Flynn was asleep on a chair, where Carrie was squished next to her reading a book. Reggie was scribbling something in a notebook and tapping his foot, with Mira leaning on his side weaving braids into Erik’s hair. Julie, meanwhile, was still asleep.

He gave half a smile to Alex, who returned it with a quick sign of “you okay?” He nodded, gently taking his hand off of Julie’s shoulder, who didn’t stir.

Yeah, I’m okay. You?

Pretty good, all things considered. Alex glanced up at Willie, who looked confused, and whispered an explanation as to why they were using sign language. Julie, Flynn, and Erik were asleep, and Luke didn’t want to move and get his phone.

What time is it? Luke signed, and Alex checked his phone, signing back that it was 08:12. Luke glanced back down at Julie, who was still fast asleep.

When did I fall asleep? Alex signed back to him with an inquisitive look on his face.

Around eleven. You were exhausted, and for a good reason.

Yeah. I’m still so angry. I just want to… he trailed off, thinking. Luke guessed he was trying to remember a sign word. In the end, he just mimed crushing something very violently. Luke stifled a laugh.

I’m right there with you. Neither of you deserve this. He glanced down to Julie as he said it.

Neither do you, Alex reminded him. Or Willie. His face turned forlorn as he added the last part.

Yeah. It just sucks. Alex rolled his eyes.

You can say that again.

…

Luke tapped his fingers on his knee, anxiety coursing through him, which was very strange. He had no idea how Alex handled it. Anxiety was not something he was used to; what was he supposed to do with the nervous energy rushing around him when he couldn’t do anything but wait?

In hindsight, the brief text he’d sent Julie to meet him in that one hidden corner of the gardens because he needed to talk to her probably wasn’t the best way for him to go about it, especially since now the grey clouds hung over the sky like death hovered in a cemetery.

He’d rehearsed what he was going to say a million times, but it hadn’t ever seemed perfect; not that it would have mattered, because when Julie walked towards him, a smile on her face, hair down with frizzy curls bouncing over her shoulders, all of his thoughts drifted away, never to be seen again.

“Hi,” he said pathetically. She gave a halfhearted laugh.

“Hi. Is… everything okay?” Luke nodded. Then, he shook his head. A stray raindrop hit his face, the storm slowly crying itself out.

“Julie, I…” he sighed. “This probably won’t be half comprehensible, but I just need to get it off my chest.

“I know that we can't be together. I know that life just wasn't on our side, and I hate it. but I love you.” his heart both lightened and sank with the confession. “I love you, and I want you to know that, no matter where either of us end up in life, with you as queen and me as some guard, you will always be in my heart. you will be my heart in its entirety, wholly and truly.

“I tried to come up with the perfect things to say, tried to articulate and rehearse my feelings, but I guess that’s the thing about emotions. They can’t be described in an accurate way; especially love and pain. I’m not even sure there’s a difference between the two; love hurts, but it’s exhilarating; pain burns, but it makes you feel alive. But they both demand to be felt. And they’re so intense, so beautiful and full of fire and fury in their own regard that I’m not sure they can be described at all. Only with comparisons, but it’s never the exact same, because while pain demands to be felt, love demands to be seen. It’s why it hurts so much to hide it; that hurt, that pain, it demands to be felt, like fire demands to burn and the ground demands to quake and the rain demands to fall.

“I don’t want you to have to feel that pain your entire life. I don’t want you to love me and have to hide it. One illusion of false love is hard enough; but having to mask another layer, for me or you, would be impossible. So I think it’s best you forget me.”

“Luke, what are you-”

“Julie, we’re a grenade. People will get caught in the crossfire, and we’ll be burned completely.”

Tears streamed down his face, but it was impossible to tell with the rain now pouring, serenading his misery with its torrential downpour.

“No,” Julie said, shaking her head back and forth. “No. Luke, you’re going out of your mind. I’m not just going to forget you. If you think I can do that, then you don’t know me at all. Besides, acting as if something never happened is just a form of mental editing, purposely erasing things you regret. Well, that’s not how it works. If you want to break up with me… then fine. But don’t expect me to forget you, because that won’t happen.”

“Julie, I don’t want to break up with you.”

“Then don’t.” Luke looked up and pressed his lips together, even though his tears would be indistinguishable with the rain.

“I’m not. But I don’t want to cause you more pain.”

“I don’t care! Sometimes you have to fight for what you love. And as much as I wish we could lay down our arms, we can’t. I won’t. Not if it means I have to lose you.”

You have to fight for what you want.

Things don’t always come easy.

Luke shook his head, shoving his parents’ dream voices out of his head. He’d tried and tried, but now it was too late. He needed to cut losses so people didn’t get caught in the crossfire.

“Julie, I-”

“No! Aren’t you the guy who says you have to ‘smash those stupid rules out of people’s brains?’” Luke looked away.

“This is different.”

“Is it? Because you’re the most stubborn, bone-headed, amazing guy I know. You’ve never given up on anything in your life, so don’t you dare start now. I’m not giving up on you, either. So are you going to keep trying to make me? Or are you going to make it worth it?”

“I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“Well, news flash, people already have, and will continue to get hurt, because life isn’t all butterflies and glitter. So if you want to minimize the hurt, don’t deny your feelings. Don’t try to make me deny mine.”

“But that’s the point! People have already gotten hurt, and will continue to, because of this. Because of me. If people found out about us, there would be collateral. Probably our friends.”

“Don’t pretend you’re doing this for them,” she snapped. “Don’t try to act all heroic. Luke, you’re amazing and selfless and kind and strong, but you’re only doing this because you’re afraid. I’m afraid too. But this? This isn’t how we need to go about things.” Luke tore a hand through his hair.

“Don’t you get it, Jules? I love you. I love you, and I hate that I’m part of the reason you and Alex are going through all of this pain.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. You didn’t suggest the arranged marriage. I know you just want people to be safe, I know you’re trying to protect me, but I don’t need to be protected. I can take care of myself, but I want you by my side.”

“Then what are we supposed to do?”

“I don’t know,” she said, “but we’ll figure it out. I’m not giving up.”

She stepped forward and laced her fingers with his, and his heart softened. He gently cupped her jaw and brushed a raindrop off of her cheekbone, and she leaned up to kiss him.

“Please… stay.”

Luke didn’t want to hurt her. He knew staying would only make things harder, more dangerous.

And yet, he closed his eyes and nodded.

“Okay.”

#blue writes #bwya #bwya tag #be who you are (no compromise)#tuserjules #tracklu #usernell #userzuha #jatp #julie and the phantoms #netflixwewantjatp2

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seducing-a-vampire · 4 years

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ON BEING HONEST AND WHY I THINK SIMON WILL BE THE FIRST TO SAY “I LOVE YOU”

Two things sparked this meta:

Baz yelling “you’re so beautiful” to Simon, but Simon not hearing it— the moment that lives rent-free in my head 24/7

Rainbow’s recent Fall for the Book interview, when she said that she thinks that Baz is “settling for Simon” in Wayward Son

Here’s something we all know: our guys really suck at saying nice things out loud to each other. For two people are constantly thinking nauseatingly sweet and loving things about each other, they almost never actually verbalize them.

I ended up going through a lot of quotes and tracking some of the nice things that they actually do say to each other, and I’ll offer some very r a m b l i n g thoughts on what I think Simon and Baz’s respective paths indicate for AWTWB.

I was interested in the intersection of when Simon and Baz are being honest to each other (aka saying some of the nice things that they’re always thinking) with when Simon and Baz are being honest about themselves (aka self-acceptance).

TL;DR, my prediction for their path through honesty is:

Simon’s self-acceptance (which starts at the end of WS)

Simon’s honesty to Baz re: love

Baz’s honesty to Simon re: love

Baz’s self acceptance

**Below the cut because it got super long, yikes**

Phase 1: Simon being nice/honest in CO

The first nice-ish interaction between Simon and Baz in Carry On is when Simon follows Baz up to the Mage’s office, and they find Baz’s baby photo:

“Here,” [Simon] says softly, holding it out to me. “I’m… sorry.” (204)

Simon tones down his initial hostility in this scene after he sees the photo. This moment, along with Natasha’s visitation, catalyzes a real change in how Simon views Baz, and it’s indicative of the larger shift (vulnerability → Simon seeing Baz as more than his enemy → Baz wearing jeans → oops I love him). This trajectory continues during their truce-- there are still a few moments of hostility, but honestly on the whole, Simon is pretty nice to Baz:

“You don’t want to hurt me,” I say, trying to push him back. “Isn’t that right? I’m sorry. Look at me, I’m sorry.” (210)

“I’ll help you,” he says (217)

“Baz,” I yell. “No! You’re flammable!” (238)

All of this culminates in the kisses in the forest, and Simon says a few more nice and affirming things around that point:

“They say your soul dies.” “That’s tosh,” he says. (300)

“You’re not a monster,” I say. His face is cold as a corpse in my hand. “I was wrong. All those years. You’re a bully. And a snob. And a complete arsehold. But you’re not one of them.” (339)

“I won’t,” I say. I’ve never turned my back on you. And I’m not starting now.” (340)

Something that stood out to me after reviewing these moments is that Simon’s shift from enemies to lovers is actually pretty linear. As he learns more about Baz during their truce and they grow closer, Simon hates Baz less and consequently says nicer things to him, until he ultimately realizes he doesn’t hate Baz at all, so he kisses him and asks him to be his boyfriend. Weirdly logical behavior for someone so thick. Simon is being pretty open and honest, and this makes sense because Simon understands himself pretty well at this point. His big crisis of character comes in the next book.

The thing is, at this point in Carry On, Baz has not said a single nice thing to Simon. The closest you could get is when he asks Simon to come to his house for Christmas, which is a great moment but is quickly muddled by their ensuing fight.

(awesome thoughts about that moment here)

Baz has acted nicely, but he has remained sarcastic and aloof even after Simon kisses him.

We get a few compliments of Simon’s power:

“You have to stop doing that.”

“What?”

“Godlike displays of magic.” (348)

“You’re the most powerful magician alive-- who’s ever lived, probably.” (355)

I won’t repeat @super-duper-twelve’s brilliant meta on this, but this category of compliment is not ultimately that useful for their general communication.

Simon keeps pushing, despite the cold walls Baz tries to put up, and he asks Baz to be his “terrible boyfriend.” Honestly, it astounds me how much confidence Simon must’ve had to just shoot his shot there, because Baz was not giving him a ton of reason to think he’d go for it. Me as simon would’ve definitely been like: ok cool, nice kiss, he definitely still hates me though.

Phase 2: Baz being nice/honest

I want to be clear: it’s perfectly understandable why Baz, a flawed fictional character, is not nice to Simon. His trajectory from enemies to lovers is completely different, because he’s spent years loving Simon while acting like his enemy. He’s had great practice at that, and it’s the most relatable thing ever that he is afraid of getting hurt when he’s believed Simon to be an impossible dream for so long. This is also understandable when viewed through the lens of self-acceptance because huge facets of Baz’s identity are constantly being covered up and ignored by himself or by the people close to him (vampire, gay). He knows himself, sure, but he’s a very long way from self-acceptance.

Anyway, Baz does actually agree to be Simon’s boyfriend, and we get a couple of honest Nice Things that they say to each other during that brief period.

Unfortunately, this mutual honesty/niceness is incredibly short lived, because everything changes quickly after this: Humdrum, Mage, Ebb, etc. Simon’s world falls apart, and Baz is there to comfort him, affirm him, and (finally) be honest and nice. Their whole dynamic turns on its head.

“You did it, didn’t you?” Baz whispers. “You defeated the Humdrum. You saved the day, you courageous fuck. You absolute nightmare.” (491)

“It’s going to be okay… it’s all right, love.” (492)

“You were the centre of my universe,” I say. “Everything else spun around you.” (506)

“Looking at you was like looking directly into the sun.” (507)

“You’re still Simon Snow. You’re still the hero of this story--” (507)

“It was brave. It was brave and selfless and clever. That’s who you are, Simon. And I’m not going to get bored with you.” (507)

“I choose you,” I say. “Simon Snow, I choose you.” (508)

To summarize and possibly oversimplify:

Up until the night of the Mage and Ebb’s death, Simon was the one pushing forward, being honest, and looking to break down the boundaries and walls between them.

After that point, Baz finally feels ready to be all in with Simon, and Simon retreats inward.

Phase 3: Wayward Son

We see this dynamic play out in Wayward Son, with almost no change throughout the whole book. Right from the very first chapter, Simon is thinking:

“Everything that happened with the Mage and the Hum-drum just made Baz more of who he was meant to be… He proved himself as a man and a magician. He proved himself right: The Mage really was evil! And I really was a fraud—’the worst Chosen One who’s ever been chosen,’ just like Baz used to say. He was right about me all along. “ (8)

I think it’s really notable that Simon can use his boyfriend’s words to justify his own worst self-doubts and self-loathings, because it indicates the consequences of them spending way more time insulting each other than ever being honest and affirming.

In Wayward Son, tender and honest moments between Simon and Baz are few and far between and mostly in the form of post-battle kisses. The only real communication that we see between them comes in flashbacks, wherein we see how much Simon has pulled back from Baz (the descriptions of his reaction to physical intimacy being one example of this).

Even when Baz says nice things to Simon and affirms him, Simon’s presumed depression largely keeps him from believing and internalizing those things (through no real fault of either person. Again, very understandable ways for both of these flawed characters with traumatic pasts to behave!!!!!). Baz yells, “you’re so beautiful” to Simon, and he doesn’t even hear him (a gutting moment that I consider indicative of the general dynamic between them throughout the book).

Now, we get to Rainbow’s comments about Baz “settling for Simon.” I feel this. Simon is pushing Baz away and giving Baz basically nothing, and that is not a healthy dynamic. Baz is going through his own crap and self-doubt and self-acceptance, and Simon is not there for him apart from fits of jealous rage. As we learned in Carry On, it takes a lot for Baz to even feel remotely comfortable expressing his feelings for Simon, and with many months lacking that, it starts to wilt.

What’s next: Prologue and AWTWB

Of course, the moment of truest communication in the second book comes at the very end:

“Why can’t you just admit that you’d be happier here?” “Why can’t you see that I wouldn't be happier anywhere without you?” (353)

I think the key to understanding what might come after this agonizing moment lies with Simon’s thoughts as he sits alone on the beach.

Before Baz arrives, Simon’s not thinking about his boyfriend. He’s thinking about himself. He’s contemplating his role in the World of Mage’s (hello, synopsis for AWTWB), and he’s taking a good, long look in the mirror. He’s starting to be honest about himself and accept himself (not perfectly, and I think this imperfect acceptance is reflected in his expressed desire to get rid of his wings, but he’s getting there).

When Simon talks about Baz staying in America and being happy, Simon is not closing himself up and pushing Baz away, which he had done for so long and which caused so much miscommunication up to this point. Rather, this is a moment of true honesty on Simon’s part.

Baz does need to learn more about himself and his vampirism. Simon recognizes this about Baz, just as Simon is trying to understand himself, too. In this moment, Simon is being true and vulnerable and speaking from a place of love. Baz refuses to self-reflect honestly and understand the truth in what Simon is saying, instead clinging to his love for Simon (without actually verbalizing that love). Throughout WS, Baz makes very stunted progress (see: his floral clothing as symbolism, being able to retract his fangs, meeting other vampires and learning about immortality and all that fun stuff), but in the end he doesn’t let himself actually think about that in any real way. Despite what Simon says, Baz has not yet “become more of who he was meant to be.”

Importantly, this is in the “Prologue,” the beginning of the next phase in their healing and their relationship. As the balance shifts, this could be the beginning of real communication, but Simon needs to take the next step. At the end of WS, Baz is the one holding back. Baz isn’t able to accept himself honestly, so he won’t be able to fully let Simon in, either.

Until Simon says “I love you,” they won’t get anywhere in their relationship. Simon needs to say it first, he needs to be vulnerable and honest in a way that he hasn’t been since before the Mage’s death, and Baz needs to understand those feelings in order to fully express his own. Then, I see Simon’s fully expressed love and support as a catalyst for Baz’s final self-acceptance.

I think Simon will be unable to fully express his love for Baz until he has understood and accepted himself. However, Baz will continue to prioritize Simon/love over his own self-acceptance until either (A) Simon and Baz break up, or (B) Baz finally has confidence and security in their relationship because Simon has broken down the barriers of honesty and said “I love you.” Simon needing to say “I love you” first also gets at the idea of Simon needing to become someone that Baz deserves (per Rainbow’s words).

So, I predict this as their path through honesty:

Simon’s self-acceptance (which starts at the end of WS)

Simon’s honesty to Baz re: love

Baz’s honesty to Simon re: love

Baz’s self acceptance

And then they will live happily ever after. The end.

*** Please let me know what you think and if this makes any sense!! ***

#carry on meta #wayward son #simon snow meta #carry on #awtwb #awtwb predictions #snowbaz #my nonsense

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yanderepuck · 4 years

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The mansion in the 21st century

For the sake of our sanity we are going assume they are all still alive in the 21st century since we don't know when everyone was turned (just that Will was first)

We're also gonna pretend that Sebas is still around(I don't think he'd accept being a vampire???? But for the sake of this he's gonna be here)

Arthur is his full whore self and is with guys and gals. He put the bi in bitch

Leonardo is also bi(historically there's no record of him ever being with a woman)

Imagine the shit posts on social media

Arthur has an Instagram and he posts about everyone's life, even using their names, but no one takes it series

A few times a week Arthur does something called "where is Leonardo sleeping today?"

Vincent uses tiktok for art

Theo has been able to get in contact with more artists all over and be able to sell their art. It's made it a lot easier for him and even though it's a lot more work he enjoys it

Dazai is also a shit poster, only he asks weird things that keep you up at night

But Dazai also publishes short stories. Probs has a blog.

I could also see Dazai basically running an animal shelter in the back yard. He gives off Disney princess vibes. Only it's like ducks, a bunch of birds. A horse or two and some sheep.

Will has probably moved back into the mansion since everything he has done has been forgotten by society.

He finds it odd how kids in schools study is plays and have to analyze it. He's just like "everyone's gay and every other line is a dick joke???" But he still doesn't speak normal.

LEONARDO GOT BACK INTO PAINTING.

Leonardo and Vinc would both have a tik tok and Instagram to show off their work and their hella popular

Isaac wanted to keep a low profile, but since the internet isn't face to face with people, he's able to publish his findings without having to actually deal with society. He's just social awkward okay

Sebastian also has a blog. He calls everyone his roommates and he's like "you'll never guess what my roommate did today"

Arthur collects mugs.

During that Italian hand meme, everyone paid more attention to Leonardo to see how often he does it

He does it too often and he doesn’t realize it

At some point Dazai HAS yelled “DO IT FOR THE VINE”

He was probably yelling at Theo

Want to know whats really dangerous?

Shakespeare learning modern slang

No one in the mansion knows what he’s talking about in the first place. Then suddenly he goes “For never was a story of more woe. O bard Alexa, play us Despacito”(I will not take credit for that. I remember reading that phrase LONG ago)

Isaac says “Me” “Same” and “Mood” a lot

He sees garbage on the ground and goes “It’s me”

Dazai is into anime don’t @ me

Also. Napoleon is also bi as all hell

Drunk or not him and Sebas have made lip contact at least once

Imagine what Mozart could do with music now.

He still loves his piano. Nothing is better than physically playing an instrument

He probs went viral for a hot minute when Arthur posted a video of him playing piano

Comte is even more of a tired mom.

HE’D SO BE A PINTEREST PERSON

You know how people make board for their friends?

He does that with everyone in the mansion

I honestly know nothing about Jean and Napoleon. I’m sorry for their lack of content. Plz add things for them.

Imagine everyone playing Mario Kart

Not every week because they all have lives outside the mansion. But at least once a month they have a game night

None of them are really TV people. They’ll watch movies but that’s about it

They’d all watch documentaries on themselves, and point out everything that is wrong, and even be like “where the fuck did they get that from?”

Because I have watched documentaries on him. Often a Da Vinci documentary will mention was arrest with sleeping with another guy. The rest of the guys are waiting for him to call that bullshit and he’s just sitting there eating popcorn.

Meanwhile Will is in the back like “Eyy! Me too!”

“Did that really happen?”

“What? Me getting arrested? Yeah”

“No, well yes, but did you sleep with another guy?”

“Yeah”

“Was he worth it?”

“I don’t know which one their talking about”

Chaotic bisexuals everywhere

Arthur however has watched the BBC Sherlock series.

Arthur and Dazai would probs watch the most tv out of all of them.

I say this cause Dazai would be into anime and Arthur got hooked on NCIS

Arthur write quite a bit of short stories that he’s gotten published

Will would love that goddamn Leonardo DiCaprio version of Romeo and Juliet. I hate that movie with a passion

Also, I can’t imagine how many jokes they’ve managed to come up with about Leonardo DiCaprio to Leonardo.

If Arthur and Mozart can stay up for days with coffee, imagine what an energy drink would do to them

All of them in modern fashion???? HOT DAMN

Will likes the Titanic

I see Theo being the one that’s into MARVEL and DC movies

Imagine showing Vinc Bob Ross

Leonardo and Isaac are Tony Stark(Ironman) and Bruce Banner(Hulk)

Everyone in the mansion is into conspiracy theories .

Comte himself is a conspiracy theory

One night Napoleon is like “Guys. Look. Aliens” and they all watch conspiracy theory videos.

It’s the one thing they can all agree on that they have in common

Vinc and Leonardo also enjoy pinterest because of all the art/crafting/diy things they find.

Arthur 100% listens to ebooks

THE MANSION IS A POKEMON GO GYM. But they aren’t all on the same team so battling can get serious some days

They all still have pets

Honestly. At any point in time, not just modern. They made fun of each others accents.

Lets be real. Will would end up liking anime too

SNapchat filters on the guys?? The dog filter on Theo??? Flower crown on Vinc??? Face swapping everyone with everyone???

One of them is bound to have a candle obsession and I want to say its Comte. Only he buys them and doesn’t burn them. Sebas ends up slowly taking candles from the stash and burning them in a few rooms.

The music room smells like chocolate but Mozart can’t find the candle.

Leonardo's room is even more cluttered. He has too many hobbies.

Vinc making his own paint??? I’d love.

Theo and Arthur cried a little when their favorite bar shut down.

Masterlist

#this is a long one but i know its gonna have a second part #there's no way i'm done with the guys in modern day #too many possibilities #also sorry about no Napoleon and Jean #I don't know their personalities at all #I only interacted with NApoleon in isaacs route #and i've never interacted with Jean #ikemen vampire #ikevamp #cybrid #ikemen series #plz add your own hcs #i like to read them

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dontmindmyshadowhunting · 3 years

Text

The new Shadowhunter Academy - Fan Fic (Chapter 6 - Staying Alive)

Chapter 6 of the new Shadowhunter Academy (fan fic) is out! ;)

Kit & Ty are both at the Academy for a few days to act as guest lecturers :)

Dru is attending of course, and an unexpected guest might show up :)

AO3 link to Chapter 6 - Staying Alive

Link to entire fic up until Chapter 6 is here (fair warning - there is explicit content in Chapter 4 so skip it if you want to avoid it ;)).

****

Kit was ten minutes late. It wasn’t a big deal but given the students’ eagerness to learn from the famous Christopher Herondale, it seemed like hours of anxious babbling that he might not show up.

Dru was starting to wonder about that herself.

When the door of the training room finally opened, Kit’s cheeks were flushed, his blond curls soaking wet - as if he had just come out of the shower - and he looked… pissed. Like he wanted to be anywhere but in that room.

“What am I to teach you for the next hour?” He snapped.

“Spear?” Daniel, one of Simon’s mundane recruits, replied. He was an enthusiastic student who had been nicknamed “Harry Potter” on his first day at the Academy because of the resemblance he bore to the hero from the eponymous books (if said hero had acne problems).

“Oh, right. Spear.” Kit grumbled as he grabbed one from the table filled with multi-sized weapons and twirled it gracefully – the circle moves almost a blur – before instantly stilling it into a horizontal position in front of him. “See that pointed head? Well, you put that right through your opponent’s body. Preferably hit a vital organ.” He threw it toward the dummy placed at the far end of the room. The spear pierced straight through its chest where the heart should be. “Like that.” The students started applauding.

“That’s it. That’s the lecture.” Kit whirled and started toward the door. He stopped short before the figure of Catarina Loss barring the door. She looked furious, her blue complexion a shade deeper than usual.

“KIT HERONDALE, you go back in there and I don’t care if you look at your fingernails for the next hour, you are NOT LEAVING THIS ROOM.”

For the rest of the class, Catarina remained seated on a big granny armchair she had conjured up, in front of the door, knitting a tiny pink pullover (probably for Mina), while Kit told the students everything they needed to know about spears. As it turned out, he was an excellent teacher, and aside from technique, had several stories and anecdotes to share about these weapons, and their history through the ages. He certainly knew how to catch his audience with witty jokes and, yes, Dru had to admit, his Herondale charm and good looks.

****

He wasn’t what Henry had expected. Not by a long shot.

First, he looked nothing like his sister Drusilla, whom Henry shared most classes with. He had gray eyes - the color of iron - where hers were blue-green, and his hair was crow dark where his sister’s were a deep, warm brown. He knew that the Blackthorn siblings were born from two different mothers, but didn’t he have a twin who died during the Cold Peace, and who shared Drusilla’s traits? He had been too young to fight at the time but Henry had seen Julian Blackthorn on a big screen in Idris right before the battle of the Imperishable Fields and he definitely looked like his sister.

To be honest, when the rumour had spread that the best Centurion of his generation - and the creator of several groundbreaking inventions - had finally decided to make an appearance at the Academy, Henry had imagined a crazy inventor wearing oversized safety goggles and a dusty lab coat. Obviously not some Adonis, who looked like he belonged more on a runway than in a library or a lab.

Second, he was more than a little surprised to discover that he was shy and reserved, for a Blackthorn that was. His rigid stance and the way he kept stroking the pendant tied around his neck, to quote only a few tells, betrayed how nervous he was. The whole character was a mystery to him. If he had his reputation - hell, if he had his looks - Henry would probably be parading around like a peacock.

“I am curious. So we are going to start with a question,” the teacher said, his expression bemused and his gaze fixed above the students’ heads toward the far end corner of the room. Most of the time, Henry had noticed, it looked like he wasn’t really addressing them. “Why do you want to become Centurions?”

Several voices erupted at the same time, and he flinched, before lifting a halting hand. “Please. Speak when you are granted permission to.”

The voices subsided and several students raised their hands instead, including Henry.

“Gillian?” He asked as his gaze flickered to her. Henry realized that he never looked anyone directly in the eye.

“Because I want to study faerie lore, the real deal, not the load of crap they teach you at the Academy,” she said smugly, and most students sniggered approvingly.

The Centurion’s lips twitched but he nodded in acknowledgement.

“Henry?”

“Because we get to wear that hot uniform,” he replied, giving the Blackthorn teacher a slow once over.

There was a collective roar of laughter in the classroom. The Centurion just nodded, straight-faced, as if it was as good an answer as any. Henry realized that he was starting to like him.

“Shut up, Henry.” Her Highness Amber Cartwright said as she entered the class. She shooed a student from his seat in the front row and sat there. “I am sorry for being late, Professor Blackthorn,” she said in a sultry voice, as she crossed her long legs in an exaggerated gesture.

The teacher spared her a brief glance. Henry braced himself for the double take - everyone, boys and girls alike, did a double take upon beholding Amber for the first time - but... nothing. The Centurion’s face remained impassive. Moving on. There is definitely something off with him, Henry thought. He is either half-blind and not wearing his binoculars or one fucking hundred percent gay.

“Call me Tiberius. I believe we are all around the same age.”

Amber beamed, her usual scowling face alight. “Okay. Tiberius,” she said, her voice caressing his name.

“And you are…?”

“Amber Grace Cartwright,” she said proudly, as she brushed her fingers through her blond hair.

Tiberius moved to his desk and furrowed his brows as his gray eyes scanned the paper lying there.

“You are not on my list.”

Amber’s face fell a little. “I know, I did not initially register for these training sessions, but Talib agreed to give me his spot. You see, I changed my mind and I really really want to become a Centurion someday.” Henry wondered how she had managed to convince Talib. Only the twenty most promising students - among those interested in becoming Centurions, and Amber had never expressed such an interest - were allowed to follow the course and there was a waiting list.

The teacher just lifted a dark eyebrow. “Oh. Okay.” They all waited as he sat at his desk and started scribbling on the paper, dark curls falling over his face as he bent his head. He was nothing if not meticulous. At the start of the class, he had asked, one by one, each student’s name. Henry had the feeling he had memorized all twenty of them. “Xian?” He asked without looking up.

The girl’s eyes widened and she whipped her head right and left, wondering whether he really was addressing her. As if there was another Xian in the classroom.

“Yes, Pro- Tiberius?”

“You don’t need to pass that folded paper on to your friend Barbara, I can provide the answer to your question.”

“Oh.” She flushed a deep red, and hastily crumpled the paper that she had been clutching under the table. Henry wondered what the message had been about.

“The answer is no. I don’t provide my personal number to students, but if you want to communicate with me, you may either send a fire message or a letter to my attention at the Scholomance, depending on the urgency of the matter.”

His tone was even, his face serious, as if he hadn’t meant to humiliate the girl, but simply state a fact. A low chatter erupted in the class, students casting worried glances at each other. Henry wondered himself how the Centurion had managed to read Xian’s paper when he was seated at the desk in front of the class, a few feet from her. The only one who didn’t seem troubled by that was Amber, who turned to glare at her friend. Xian stuck her tongue out in turn. Oh, Henry thought. Let the Hunger Games begin.

****

After a short recess, the students had another hour of training with Kit.

“As you well know, Shadowhunters use Runes to heal faster when they are injured in battle. Sometimes, it’s all that you need. But other times, a wound needs to be tended before an Iratze is applied. For instance, if you have foreign bodies in your wounds, you have to take them out before using your stele. Except, of course, when it would do much more harm to retrieve them, for instance if it's an arrow. Also, and although you should carry a stele with you at all times, situations may occur when you are without them. Finally, although we have a stronger constitution and heal faster, us Shadowhunters are humans, and we suffer the same diseases as mundanes. We can faint. We can die of a heart attack. We can die of blood loss following a car crash. Therefore, it’s important - and Catarina shares my view on this - to train you in first aid.” A crooked smile lit up his gorgeous face, his blue eyes glinting mischievously. “So who wants to be my dummy?”

All students - save for Dru - raised their hands eagerly. Brianna actually elbowed the girl next to her so she would put her own hand down.

“Drusilla Blackthorn,” Kit announced, with a smirk on his face.

Dru rolled her eyes and came to stand next to him.

“I think it’s more efficient to work on the basis of real-life situations’ simulations. So, what happened to my dummy in this scenario?”

“She fainted!” A student said.

Several students giggled.

“Okay,” Kit said, then looked over expectantly at Dru.

She rolled her eyes again and mimed fainting. As she lay still on the floor, she wondered if he would consider them even after the demonstration or continue to make her pay for the trick she had pulled earlier that day.

Kit knelt next to her.

“Is she conscious or unconscious?” He asked.

“Unconscious!” Another student said.

“Dru, close your eyes,” he said. She did as requested, letting out a deep sigh. “Okay, so how do you check whether or not someone is unconscious?” He asked, and she felt his fingers brush her hand, then he pinched her. She swallowed a swear word.

“Dummy? Dummy? Can you hear me? If you can hear me, blink or move your fingers. No answer. So you can assume she’s unconscious. Next step: you have to check if she breathes.”

She felt Kit’s fingers gently cupping her chin and forehead and tilting her head backwards. He pulled her lips open. “Check the airway first. If the throat is clear…” His hair tickled her face, and the Blackthorn locket grazed her jawline, as Kit leaned over to put his ear directly above her mouth. “See what I am doing? I am checking for a breathing sound while observing the rise and fall of her chest. So, tell me, is she breathing?”

“No,” a student said. Dru recognized Brianna’s voice. You will pay for this, roomie, Dru thought.

“Okay.” Dru realized Kit’s voice trembled a bit. She opened her eyes and saw the conflict in his gaze. What was the matter? “If you are with someone else, that person must go fetch a defibrillator that’s now in every patrol car. If you are alone, you can’t leave the patient so you must call for help. Do not - and I repeat - do not leave your patient’s side to do that. You must practice CPR at once.”

Realization dawned on Dru. Oh, bugger.

“In a real-life situation,” Kit said, drawing the words out. “You should… take your patient’s shirt off or - more accurately - rip it open.” He flinched as he said the last words, but swiftly regained his composure. She had to give him credit for his professionalism. “You must give chest compressions on bare skin. In our case though…”

Dru smirked. “Didn’t think it through, did you?” She whispered to Kit. Seeing his look of dismay, witnessing him trip over himself, was surprisingly satisfying, and if there was something Dru never missed, it was an opportunity to play a prank. Especially when she had been the intended victim of the stunt. She just couldn’t resist. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, and she became reckless. Act first think later became her course of action.

“That’s fine”, she said out loud as she sat up. She pulled the top of her gear off before lying back, wearing only her bra above her gear pants.

There were a few gasps in the crowd. Kit gulped.

“First of all, make sure your patient is lying on her back on a firm, dry surface. If there is blood, move the body away from it. I understand Catarina already taught you how to deal with hemorrhage.”

A few students mumbled a confirmation.

“You should push on the chest at a rate of 100 to 120 compressions per minute, which corresponds to the beat of several songs you can use to help you maintain the proper tempo.” He fiddled with his phone and the sound of “Stayin’ Alive” by the Bee Gees started playing.

Dru snorted. Kit was barely looking at her as he plowed on.

“Position your hands above your patient’s chest, like this. Interlock fingers. Then, give chest compressions. Like this.”

Dru tried to hide a smile. Kit’s palm was sweaty against her bare skin. He was flushing a deep red, his face a mask of embarrassment. Punk’d, she thought. Had he known he would be giving chest compressions to Dru - that he considered like a little sister - he would have thought twice about using her as a dummy.

He stopped abruptly, after thirty compressions. “Okay, we are… going to stop here for today.”

“What about the rescue breath?”

“I’ll show you next time,” he choked, as he stood and almost tripped on his feet scouting back. It seemed like he couldn’t get away from her fast enough.

“Does… anyone have any questions on CPR before we move to another exercize?”

“Yeah,” Talib raised his hand. Shit. Not him, Dru thought. What the hell was he doing here anyway, wasn’t he supposed to follow the Scholomance training course?

Kit nodded to him.

“Is that the Blackthorn locket you are wearing?”

Kit’s mouth dropped open. Dru tensed. She knew that Ty had asked that they keep their relationship a secret. Only family and very close friends were in the know. Not because Ty was ashamed, far from it. But because, as a Centurion, he was entrusted with all missions related to the First Heir, and that would change as soon as the Scholomance found out how involved Ty was with the subject of his investigations. Ty didn’t trust anyone else with these missions, so he had begged Helen and Aline not to tell the Penhallows about Kit and him, even though the identity of the First Heir remained a secret to most. One could never be too cautious.

Watching his face fall, the glint of panic in his azur eyes, Dru started to feel really bad for the Herondale boy. She knew that if he had been allowed, he would have screamed his love for Ty at the top of his lungs, from the Academy’s roof. Instead, he lowered his gaze to his feet, swallowing hard.

“Yeah, it’s mine,” Dru blurted. “Seriously, Kit? I told you not to wear it at the Academy!”

Kit whipped his head up in surprise, his blue eyes wide and questioning. He looked like he was about to say something, but Dru wouldn’t give him a chance to deny. What was done was done. She whirled around and retreated to a corner of the training room, bowing her head in order to conceal the blush that had started creeping up her face.

****

“Do you know who founded the Scholomance?” The Centurion teacher asked.

Amber was the only one who raised her hand.

“Amber?”

“It was originally founded by an alliance between the Fair Folk and prominent Shadowhunter families.”

Most of the students gasped. Everyone turned a questioning look at Tiberius, whose lips quirked. “Correct. This is not common knowledge, to say the least. How have you learnt about it?”

“I read a lot and… I may have borrowed some of my brother’s notes. Cartwrights have been filling the ranks of Centurions for generations.”

“But…” Barbara said, looking confused. “I thought the whole purpose of the Scholomance was to investigate all Downworlders, especially faeries, since they are the Nephilim who possess the most extensive knowledge about them.”

“And where do you think the Centurions got their knowledge from?” Amber snapped.

“Why would the Nephilim create a school with Downworlders?” Xian interjected.

“About that,” Tiberius intervened. “The classification of faeries as Downworlders is not entirely accurate and has been challenged over the past few years. Contrary to general belief, some of the Fair Folk species do not have any demon blood. Maybe you’d like to carry on, Miss Cartwright.”

Amber pursued, with a smug look on her face.

“As the story goes, not long after the creation of the Nephilim, the Angel warriors and the Fair Folk made an alliance to protect the Earth from demon invasion. They shared their knowledge - the fey teaching the Nephilim how to use magic in the school they created together, a sort of real life Hogwarts - and even… consorted. After all, the biggest problem that the fey have been facing in the past centuries is the thinning of their blood. Why not mix it with that of Raziel’s chosen warriors? Ultimately, a union was arranged between the Faerie King and a member of a highly respected and powerful Nephilim family. Not all fairies were happy with the union and there was a secession. The Faerie lands were split between two courts from then on. The Unseelie court, choosing to acknowledge a Nephilim queen, considering her as part of the fey royal family, ara nothlir, and the Seelie court, refusing the Angel warriors’ influence.”

She paused to watch the effect of her words on the wide-eyed students.

“The Nephilim queen was not immortal but the King used his magic to stretch out her years. Although they were happy, they had to rule in troubled times. The strong divergence in traits, opinions and customs between the Fair Folk and Shadowhunters soon drew them apart. Raziel’s warriors criticized the fey for being cunning and strongly disapproved of the tricks they played on mundanes and the creation of changelings. Faeries thought Shadowhunters to be ruthless, overbearing and contemptuous.

The Unseelie king’s death - it came as a shock, everyone thought the mortal Nephilim queen was bound to die before him - without any heir being born from their union, was a fatal blow to the alliance. Unseelie laws were clear, the queen dowager no longer held any claim to the throne - the full fey blooded prince Arawn succeeded to his father - and she hid in Faerie under the protection of a few Nephilim who swore to protect her. They could easily be distinguished from the red caps as they wore black cloaks identifying them as Angel warriors. They were not sanctioned by the Clave though, which preferred to sever all ties to the Fair Folk. With the magic they had learnt from the fey, these protectors created an enchanted wall of thorns surrounding the tower where the Shadowhunter queen and her family lay low for hundreds of years.

When an heir was born from the union of the Seelie Queen and Unseelie King, most Nephilim took it as the last stroke of the Fair Folk’s betrayal. It didn’t help that there were whispers about a prophecy stating that the world would fall to shadow under the First Heir’s ruling. So began the witch hunt, the primary target being the cursed descendant. That’s how Centurions began to use the knowledge they had collected from their former allies at the Scholomance against them.

The chase officially ceased when the disappearance of the First Heir was officially announced by the Unseelie Court and the tensions between the Nephilim and the fey eased until they finally made peace with the signing of the First Accords in 1872. The Scholomance was closed then, as a show of good faith that Downworlders and Shadowhunters were no longer at war.”

“What has become of the Nephilim queen’s family?” Henry blurted.

Amber turned to look at him. She was positively gloating.

“They had nothing to be blamed for, so the Clave as well as the Fair Folk let them be after the signing of the First Accords. After all, they were a very influential family to begin with. So, they are still among us.”

“Who are they?”

“Before King Arawn changed the Unseelie Court’s sigil, the symbol was that of a full crown…adorned with a rose, symbol of his father’s attachment to the Lady of Roses,” she said mysteriously.

“The Nephilim queen’s descendants are known as the Rosales,” Tiberius specified evenly.

A low chatter erupted and the words “Inquisitor”, “Diego” and “Cristina” were thrown around repeatedly. They all knew the Council kept a lot of secrets, but the fact that the current Inquisitor belonged to a family that had forged an alliance with the fey in the past, confirmed how little they really knew about Shadowhunter politics.

“And what about their protectors?” A voice suddenly raised from a corner of the classroom.

Amber turned to look at the Centurion who nodded imperceptibly.

“Easy,” she said. “They were released from their oath a long time ago but they have kept their Shadowhunter names. Some say the earlier generations had sharp, elven features due to their closeness to - and interbreeding with - the Fair Folk. They were black cloaked warriors guarding the queen’s family like thorns protecting the delicate rose from its predators. They called themselves the Black Thorns.”

As the students suddenly burst into commotion, Henry’s gaze focused on Tiberius, who stood straight like an arrow, his expression unfathomable. He had a feeling there was more to the story but, whatever it was, Henry knew he would have to swear the Centurion vows before being allowed to hear it.

****

Being a Shadowhunter had major downsides. No matter how hard you tried to shut yourself from your environment, your highly trained senses betrayed you by fulfilling their role like obedient little soldiers.

Dru had never better understood Ty’s need for headphones as she weaved a path in the main hall towards the exit - she wanted to crawl in her bed and hide there until at least the next morning - and tried to ignore the glares and angry whispers that followed her.

“Seriously? Christopher Herondale and Drusilla Blackthorn? It’s like some stupid chick flick where the hot jock hooks up with the weird geek.”

“He’s probably with her because she’s easy. Did you see her take her shirt off in the training room like it was no big deal?”

“Oh, come on, every girl does that here. We’re warriors, we undress to draw Runes on each other all the time. And how is it different from when we train in sports bras when it’s summer?” Well, Dru was relieved to hear at least some girls had her back...

“It’s different when you have a pair of breasts like hers.”

“Right. Tell me about it. Best boobs at the Academy.”

“Yeah, I would definitely hit that.”

“You’re kidding? That girl’s creepy, I would be afraid to be strangled in my sleep.”

“What does he see in her anyway? She has a pretty face, but she dresses like a Goth freak. And don’t get me started on the size of her thighs...”

Dru never allowed anyone to say a single bad thing about her family and friends. But where her own securities were concerned, she was like an open wound anyone could poke. Dru bit back tears as she hurried her footsteps. She needed air. Fresh air.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and whipped her head around. It was Brianna.

“Seriously, Dru? Why didn’t you just tell me before I made a fool of myself?”

“Brianna. I just gave him a necklace. I am not dating him or anything. He’s just a member of Livia’s Watch, that's all. Hence the locket.” Why had she not thought of that excuse earlier?

Brianna lifted her eyebrow dubiously. Dru felt her temper rising.

“Fine.” She snapped. “Believe me or not, I don't CARE.”

NNNNEEEEW YOOOORK. They both startled as the voice of Alicia Keys suddenly blazed through the main hall’s stone walls.

As one, all the students rushed outside to see where the noise came from. Brianna and Dru exchanged puzzled glances before following them wearily out of the wide double front doors.

Dru blinked and, when her eyes finally adjusted to the sunlight, tried to hide her shock as she took in the incongruous sight.

In the Academy’s front yard, a crowd had already started to gather in a circle around the main attraction, giving it a wide berth.

A splendid charcoal grey convertible car was parked at the center of it, as if it had appeared there by magic. "Empire State of Mind" by Jay-Z and Alicia Keys was playing full on from the vehicle’s sound system.

Leaning casually against the hood of the car with his arms crossed was the tall figure of Ash Morgenstern. His platinum blond hair was peeking out of a green beanie and he wore an elegant gray cashmere coat that made him look like a British gentleman.

In the back of her mind, several questions buzzed like little alarms. Was he not supposed to be under house arrest? What the hell was he thinking showing up in front of the Academy ? Where did he get the car anyway?

But foremost in her mind was Ash. It’s Ash. It’s really Ash. How gorgeous he was - even more so than she remembered - and how she had never felt more relieved to see anyone in her whole life. She had missed him, she realized with surprise.

Ash straightened up and gave Dru a crooked smile as soon as he caught sight of her.

She couldn’t help it, she ran to him and threw her arms around his slender neck, burying her face in his chest. He smelled of aftershave, a sophisticated fragrance of amber, sandalwood, mandarin and jasmine. Ash stiffened at first, obviously startled by her sudden display of affection, then relaxed and squeezed her tighter.

“If I had known I would receive such a warm welcome, I would have broken out of jail sooner,” he whispered in her ear.

She drew back and shook her head disapprovingly, though a grin was still plastered on her face.

“What on earth are you doing here, Ash?”

“I have come to rescue my Queen.”

“Rescue me? From what?”

“Food poisoning, of course. You told me it was awful here. I was in the neighborhood and it just so happens that I know a perfect French restaurant in Manhattan.”

“And so you decided to break out of your confinement and show up at the Academy in a flashy sports car?”

He shrugged. “I thought it would be a more inconspicuous way of traveling.”

“Inconspicuous? Really? As compared to what?”

He raised a silvery eyebrow. “Flapping my dark wings?”

“Where are you going with my sister?” Ty demanded with a frown as he marched towards them, his voice louder than usual, probably due to the headphones covering his ears.

“Manhattan. For dinner.”

“It’s not safe,” he said, then glanced at the vehicle. “Is that an Aston Martin DB9 GT Volante?”

“What’s not safe?” Ash asked. “My company? The car? The whole idea of a crazy night out?”

“All of the above,” Ty answered, his gray eyes like saucers, still fixed on the car.

“Oh, so now you care about where I go and who I am with?” Dru intervened.

Ty’s gaze snapped back to her, and his eyes crinkled in confusion.

“Of course I do. Why do you ask? Wait- Are you… angry with me?”

“Of course I am! I had to find out you were at the Academy by eavesdropping on fellow students!” She was grateful the music was loud and the observers far enough that they could not overhear their conversation.

Ty’s eyes widened and his jaw went slack. “But... But I wasn’t sure I was coming until this morning. I didn’t want to tell you before I was certain. I thought you would be happy to see me.”

“Yes, Ty, I am happy to see you. But I started at the Academy months ago, and you have only decided to show up today! We both know who convinced you, and it certainly wasn’t me.”

The look of hurt on Ty’s face almost made her regret her words. As if on cue, Kit suddenly appeared, coming from the opposite direction to where Ty was standing. Dru realized with a pang that they were purposefully avoiding being seen together and maintaining a safe distance between them.

“Hey guys, I think I missed the invitation to the party,” Kit said playfully, but Dru knew him and could sense that his heart wasn’t in it. He was just trying to ease the tension.

“You didn’t miss anything,” Dru replied sharply. “Ash and I were leaving.” Ty opened his mouth to object but she cut him. “And you, Ty, do not get to tell me what to do.”

“Where your safety is concerned, I do,” Ty snapped back, red starting to creep up his white neck. His hands were now fluttering at his sides.

“If you’re worried about her safety, Ty, why don’t you come with us?” Ash offered in peace. “You too, Kit. Raziel knows we all need to… let off steam.” He looked like he was holding in a laugh and Dru wondered whether she was missing a private joke.

Ty’s gaze flickered to Kit then, and their eyes met for a brief second before they both hastily looked away. They were clearly blushing now, Ty nervously stroking his heron pendant and Kit thrusting his hands in his pockets and staring at his feet.

“I can’t,” Kit said, kicking a pebble. “I have to stay here where I am protected. Catarina and my parents will kill me if they know I left the Academy’s grounds.”

Ash raised an eyebrow. “Tell me, Kit. Who would you rather have as bodyguards? Me and the badass Blackthorn siblings?” He said, gesturing at their little group. “Oooor… these frightened little squirrels posing as Academy students?” He pointed toward the crowd of students who were still gaping at him. And the car. But mostly at Ash.

“I guess you have a point,” Kit conceded.

“Okay,” Ty answered hesitantly, looking away.

“Then jump in, Angel warriors,” Ash said as he opened the door for Dru. She ignored it, and instead, grabbed the edge of the back door to jump inside and landed on the front passenger seat. “What? I have always wanted to do that!” She told him when he lifted his eyebrow at her. Ash laughed and shook his head as he rounded the car to take the driver’s seat. Kit and Ty crammed in the back - the space had definitely not been designed to hold two full-grown Shadowhunters - and immediately stared out the car, pointedly avoiding looking at each other.

Ash put the Aston Martin in gear, as the students parted to let them through. The engine's roar was deafening, almost drowning the sound of the music still blasting from the sound system. Dru felt exhilarated, gusts of wind carrying away all her resentment and worries as they blew her hair. Everything was perfect… save perhaps for one thing.

“Ash,” she called over the noise. “Can you turn the music down?”

He threw her a puzzled look, his hands tightening on the wheel.

“Why? I thought you’d like it. We are in New York after all.”

“It’s not my hometown,” she observed, winking at him.

He grinned as he fiddled with the dashboard and suddenly 2 PAC's "California Love" was booming full volume.

“Better?” He asked.

Her answering smile was so wide it almost hurt her cheeks.

“Not just better. Perfect.”

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