#they should have kept his spiky bell

[lucientheartisticfox]

i have not watched the special yet but MAN good!shadybug's outfit is a DOWNGRADE. like, shadybug? she looks cool. pretty. reminds me of scorpion cookie. i like her outfit! good!shadybug, however? no. that's just original ladybug with like, a couple embellishments. how is THAT meant to be an UPGRADE?! they could have just changed her color scheme slightly and BAM. good!shadybug! a character can be edgy and still be a good guy! i just. they could have done better. they could have done so much better

[colormepurplex2]

Flowers of Fate | Honey Bells & Rosemary

↳ UnseeliePrince!Yoongi x Human!f.Reader (ft. x UnseelieGuard!Jungkook x SeeliePrince!Jimin x WoodNymph!Namjoon) ⤜ Strangers to Bonded Mates ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 9,928 ⚠️ Adult humor, crass language, talk of adult activities, drinking, mild angst/talk of the loss of a loved one, kidnapping Next Chapter⇾ ◅ Back to series masterlist

Flying is weird. The sudden up and down, the pressure, and the constant hum of the big engines all put you a little on edge. Long flights are even worse. You’re pretty sure that’s where the adage about cabin fever came from, not middle-of-nowhere isolation, but being stuck in the cabin of an airplane for an extended period of time 40,000ft up somewhere over a vast ocean. It elicits a physical response in you that nearly has you itching to get rid of the tingle beneath your skin. Luckily, Monica made you upgrade to first-class seats, and the flight attendant has kept your wine glass never less than half-full.

Monica stretches beside you, her spiky black hair rumpled from sleep. “How much longer?” she mumbles, squinting in your direction.

You click the flight logs on the screen before you—less than an hour remains. The overhead speaker announces the approach as if the captain is privy to Mo’s inquiry. The voice drones on, rattling off local weather conditions and instructions to return seats and serving trays to their original positions. You don’t have to do much, not having done anything other than listen to music and sip wine the entire flight.

“That answer your question?” you ask, flicking your eyes to her before focusing back on the little plane slowly moving across the screen toward Edinburgh. The last time you visited Scotland, you flew into Glasgow, but all airports seem to be the same to you either way.

A soft grunt comes from her before she straightens up the things around her seat. The complimentary pillow, slippers, and blanket are quickly tucked away into her backpack. “I’ll be keeping these,” she sing-songs softly to herself.

Monica has been your best friend since you were a pre-teen. She’s eccentric, loud, and a bit more chaotic than you can stomach at times, but she’s also consistent in her love and support of you, which is more than you can say for anyone else in your life right now. She’s the only one to consider entertaining your last-minute wish to fly to Scotland in search of…something.

You’re not even sure what, really. You just know you’re looking for a way to feel closer to your late grandpa. It’s almost one year since his passing, and he was the foundation of everything that brought you joy in life. You grew up on his stories, his deep baritone reciting old Scottish ballads and fairytales alike. He encouraged your imagination and filled your head with all sorts of fanciful and magical things.

When you tried to explain it to Monica, she simply smiled, shrugged, and asked when you wanted to leave. That was a week ago. If someone had told you a year ago you’d be flying to Scotland on a whim for no real apparent reason other than a gut feeling, you’d probably have laughed. But, no one’s laughing now, especially not you, as the plane begins its descent and you catch your first glimpse of the rolling greenery out the window.

“The rental car should be ready,” you tell Monica after making it through customs. “We stay the night here in Edinburgh and then travel down to Selkirk tomorrow.”

“You’re talking to me as if you haven’t already gone over this a dozen times already,” Monica sighs, hitching her backpack higher onto her shoulder. “Honestly, babe, take a breath and relax, please. You’re going to give me premature grey hair before this trip is over.”

You can’t help but smile and suppress a chuckle at that. She’s always on your case about being such a ‘by the book’-er as she calls it. You can’t help that it gives you anxiety when things don’t go according to plan or if there’s no plan to begin with. The fact this trip was so last minute doesn’t help the nervous feeling in your belly one bit.

“You’re right. Sorry, I just don’t want anything to go wrong while we’re here.” One of your shoulders lifts in a half-shrug because it’s the best excuse you can come up with, and it definitely has plenty of merit to it, you think.

Monica claps a hand on your shoulder and knocks her head affectionately against yours. Her long dangling earrings tickle against your cheek as she jiggles you lightly. “What could go wrong?”

The smile you plaster on seems to do the trick, and she releases you and skips ahead toward the rental counter. What could go wrong? Plenty. Plenty, but you’re determined to do as Mo suggested and try to relax a little. If your grandpa knew you were worrying so much, he’d laugh and tell you to take a whiff of whiskey and ‘keep yer heid’. That thought does bring a genuine smile to your face.

The key for the rental is already nestled in Monica’s hand by the time you make it to the rental desk. “You want to drive?” you ask, raising a skeptical eyebrow. Monica is many things, but a confident driver isn’t one of them.

She snorts prettily—or as prettily as someone can snort. Monica really is a precious gem, regardless of what she does. Her pixie-cut black hair compliments the dark emerald color of her eyes, framed with equally dark lashes. She’s petite but makes up for her more diminutive stature with a fiery attitude. “Hell no. I was just holding them for you. Here.” She grabs your hand and presses the key into it. “If you get me to the hotel soon, I’ll even give you a nice tip, chauffeur.”

You laugh, shaking your head at her antics. She always was good at making you feel lighter. “Yes, ma’am,” you respond in your best impression of a humbled servant, bowing slightly at the waist and gesturing wide with your free hand.

“Come then, darling, get a move on.” She claps her hands together and prances off toward the exit and the car corral for the rental office.

Spring is in full force, filling the air with a pleasant bouquet of earthy fragrances. It’s warm enough to be comfortable outside with just a light jacket during the day, making packing easy for you, at least. Monica was hoping for sweltering weather fit for a bikini, but she begrudgingly packed jeans and thin, long sleeves instead.

The drive to the hotel isn’t long. It’s just enough time to enjoy the cozy qualities of Edinburgh proper. It’s a bustling city sprawl with an old-world feel you’d never find somewhere like Los Angeles or Chicago. The architecture is breathtaking like you’ve somehow traveled back in time while keeping all the modern amenities of the 21st century. The streets are awash in a fresh sheen of rainwater, the sky overhead darkening with the promise to deposit more soon. For now, though, there is only a slight haze of mist clinging to the horizon.

Parking in a small lot, you follow Monica out of the car but pause and take a moment to admire the beautiful garden lining the front and the side of the hotel. Bright tulips and daffodils sprout in contrast to the brilliant greens and browns of the shrubbery and ivy climbing the side of the building.

The thick, wooden doors of the entrance are studded and banded with iron straps and clavos. Monica shoulders open one of the large doors, and the hinges creak slightly with age. A smiling young man with unruly blond hair and blue eyes behind a set of thin-framed glasses greets you both as you walk in.

The check-in process is easy, with no hassle. “Thank you,” you say to the front desk clerk when he hands you two keys to your shared room.

The room has a beautiful view of a back garden with flowering cherry blossom trees. The pink blooms look fuschia-colored in the waning daylight as the sun begins to sink below the horizon.

“It’s beautiful,” Monica comments from beside you. Her warm breath fogs over the window, and she laughs, tracing a heart with yours and her initials in it. She snaps a quick picture to upload later before playfully musing, “Maybe by the end of this trip, I can replace your initials with those of a kilt-clad hunk, huh?”

You roll your eyes, shoving her shoulder playfully. “And leave the poor guy here with his heart in a million pieces? Typical Monica Jeffers, heartbreaker extraordinaire.”

She dramatically clutches at her chest. “You wound me. I only break the hearts of weak men. It’s not my fault if they can’t handle me. If they break that easily, then they obviously weren’t worth it to begin with and I’m better off.”

“Need I remind you of Melvin?” you ask. She grimaces. “Kit?” Another sour face. “Patricia?”

“Okay, okay!” She throws up a hand, stopping you from going further. “To be fair, Patricia was a bitch, and she’s the one that broke my heart.”

“Only after she found out you were sleeping with her twin brother,” you mutter under your breath.

“We weren’t exclusive!” Monica squawks, waving a finger in the air. “She very specifically told me it was okay to see other people. Granted, she might have mentioned that her brother was off-limits, but I’m still a bit hazy on that detail and not sure she actually ever said that. But, I digress. You’ve seen Patrick; I would have been a complete idiot not to accept his advances.” She sighs dreamily. “He was so pretty. Even prettier than Patricia, but don’t tell her I said that.” She gives you a pointed look.

“Mo, you know she blocked me right after she blocked you. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

Monica pouts. “I know. Fuck. I really did mess that one up, didn’t I? You think she’ll ever unblock me—want to talk to me again one day?”

You should have known bringing up Patricia might put Monica in a bit of a mood. “Maybe,” you offer, not sure what else to say on the matter. The fallout between Monica and Patricia wasn’t pretty. It’s also reasonably fresh, just a few weeks old at this point. It was one of the factors Monica had listed out on her pros list when you had asked her why she said yes to coming with you—time away from Patricia, so she can hopefully simmer down.

“Oh well, I’m here now, ready to find me a nice burly, bearded man or a— what do they call them? Oh, right, a bonnie lass.” She waggles her eyebrows at you and shimmies her shoulders.

“You’re impossible,” you laugh, thankful the mood is becoming lighter. “Come on. We should get changed and head down for dinner. There is a meal included in our voucher for tonight and breakfast in the morning before we head out.”

The rest of the afternoon and evening flow by in a smooth current of delicious food and Monica’s ever-incessant prowling for eye candy and selfies. You laugh more than you have in a long time. It feels good. By the time you’re rolling out of bed the following day, you’re in a fantastic mood.

“Stop humming,” Monica grumbles before sipping her coffee. “You’re entirely too cheerful for this early in the morning. I’m pretty sure I have permanent jet lag.”

“It’s because you slept on the plane and didn’t sleep last night,” you comment, suppressing a teasing smile. “That’s rule number one for flip-flopping your schedule when you fly like that. It helps avoid the topsy-turvy, icky feeling.” It’s something your grandpa brought up often when he talked about going back to visit Scotland.

“You can’t expect someone to not sleep on a plane when they fly as far as we have and then turn around and actually sleep the whole night when their body insists it’s daytime. That’s absurd.” Monica pinches the bridge of her nose between two fingers and then scrubs her hand over her eyes. “Just wake me when we get there.” She slumps a little in the seat, pulling her slouchy beanie down over her eyes and wrapping her arms around her middle. A few moments later, you hear the telltale soft huffs of deep, peaceful breathing.

The Scottish countryside passes in a beautiful smear of greens mixed with vibrant pinks and yellows. You follow the road along beside stretching farms and fields of grazing sheep and goats. The drive is quiet, filled with just Monica’s mumbled sleepy sounds and the soft music you have playing through the car's Bluetooth.

Tomorrow is the big Beltane celebration at the Bowhill House outside Selkirk. You can’t help the smile that curls your lips when you think about it. That’s where the fabled plains and forest of Carterhaugh are, the same ones from the ballad of Tamlane your grandpa used to recite—your favorite one.

There is a fluttery feeling that you can feel on a soul-deep level, something that tells you this is precisely where you’re supposed to be. A part of you likes to think it’s your grandpa giving you a slight nudge of reassurance. As much as it hurts for him not to be here, you know he’d want this for you even without him along for the adventure.

Research online shows that the Bowhill estate is nestled along the sprawl of forest, and the plain—now turned fields—sit to the south. The festivities will extend all throughout the estate. Giving you plenty of opportunity to explore both the fields and the forest if you so desire, which you very much do.

In Selkirk, there is a small shop that your grandpa often mentioned when talking about his time in Scotland. You tried to look it up and make sure it was still operational. But the only thing you could find was a blurb about it in a travel blog from almost a decade ago. The shop, An Bhláth, from what you could discern, is a small apothecary-like establishment where you and Monica should be able to get proper adornments for the celebrations. That’s one thing that’s very important about Beltane, making sure you’re appropriately protected or blessed with herbs and charms. Another thing your grandpa spoke at length about.

Beltane celebrates the peak of spring and the coming of summer. It’s a time for beseeching fertility in both human and earthen aspects. People rejoice over growth and progression, prosperity and bounty. It’s also a time when the magical veil between worlds disappears—allowing magick to saturate the earth and fae beings to walk among mortals; or so the stories say.

Most of your grandpa’s stories and ballads revolved around fae folk and the times when the veil would drop to allow them to dance among the circle's stones, cavort with mortals, and indulge in their often trickster ways. Whereas these tales may have started as a means to scare people into avoiding mysterious things, it only fuels your desire to get that much closer to Carterhaugh and its supposed enchanted forest.

As a little girl, nothing interested you more than trying to catch a peek into the mystical world of faeries. You would leave out sprinkles of sugar and pretty sequins in hopes of luring a Sprite or a house Brownie to sit on your windowsill. Despite your need for organization and penchant for logical reasoning, there’s just something about the whimsy of your grandpa’s stories that had always managed to break through your astute exterior and release the fanciful curiosity that’s still inside from when you were a girl.

It’s just over an hour later that you see Selkirk rise up along the horizon. Brick and stone-faced buildings line the streets, and the slow bustle of pedestrian traffic flows on the sidewalks and side streets. Swaths of colorful flowers gather along windows and down grassy furrowways between buildings and roads—streamers of flag pennants in blues, greens, and purples crisscross doorways and arched entryways. The festive Beltane decorations extend everywhere you look.

The Inn you booked is small and quaint, having an authentic old-world feel with its cobbled front and wooden shutters. There is a giant, burnished brass knocker in the shape of a trinity knot in the middle of the door and wide-plated straps banding over the top and bottom of the distressed wood.

“We’re here,” you say to Monica, pulling into one of the small parking places in front of the Inn.

She tugs her cap up and peers out the window, squinting against the bleary light that penetrates the cloud cover in the sky. “Are you sure you didn’t drive us to some sort of Renaissance fair? It’s like something out of a Tolkien book.”

You laugh. “You’ve read Tolkien?”

Monica gives you a mildly withering look, her brows drawing low over her eyes. “Of course I haven’t. But, I’ve heard you talk about it enough that I might as well have read them by proxy.”

“Right.” You shake your head. “Sure. That’s exactly how that works. Come on, let’s get checked in.”

Most of the bags in the trunk are Monica’s. You’re sure she packed half of her closet. Her need to have the perfect outfit ready trumps sensibility sometimes. If there’s nothing else you’ve come to expect from Monica, it’s her posting outfits of the day on her Instagram every morning without fail.

“Do you think they have baggage services? Like a bellboy or something?” she asks, grunting as she lugs her third bag out of the trunk.

“No, but you have me,” you chide before grabbing the handle on one of her larger bags. You shoulder your own backpack and drop the strap of your small duffle over your other shoulder. “You packed enough to clothe the whole city of Selkirk.”

Monica barks a laugh. “You say that until I need to find the right dress to impress the hunky Scot with a quarter-popping ass in that bakery over there.”

You glance over your shoulder at her. She’s stopped mid-tug on her bags, eyes fixed off to the left. You let your eyes follow hers until you see the aforementioned ‘hunky Scot’. There is a small bakery beside the Inn, and a large man with thick arms, a trimmed beard, and a black apron tied around his waist busies himself with cleaning the glass front of the display case that you can barely see around his bulk. You catch his side profile as he moves, the wiry hair of his beard catching the overhead light highlights the gold and red tones that match the wavy ones on his head.

“Five minutes,” you say, turning back toward the Inn.

“Five minutes?” Monica parrots distractedly.

“How long it’ll take you to break his heart.”

Monica sighs behind you because she knows it’s true. “Is that a no?” she asks hesitantly.

You twist the knob on the door to the Inn and push it open. “Of course it’s not a no, Mo. You’re free to do as you please. I want you to enjoy yourself while we’re here. Even if it means breaking a few hearts.”

She gives you a large grin and makes an adorable squeaking sound of happiness. “Perfect! I know just the outfit. Hurry, I don’t want to miss him. I wonder if he owns the shop,” she babbles the entire time you check in at the front desk. The sweet, older lady—Lorna, according to her brass-colored name tag—at the counter smiles politely at Monica and even offers her the gentleman’s name, Malcolm, confirming he owns the bakery, too.

Monica is excitedly beside herself as you make it to your shared room. She immediately begins to rifle through her bags to collect the pieces for the perfect outfit once you’re inside.

“Can you bring me back a pastry or muffin?” you prompt, slowly unpacking your own bags.

“What? Oh, yeah. Of course! As long as Malcolm—” she does a dramatic swoon when she says his name “—doesn’t ask me to go home with him.” Her back snaps ramrod straight, and her shoulders creep up in a hunch. She slowly turns to look at you, raising an eyebrow. “Would that be okay…if he did ask?”

You hadn’t thought about the possibility; that Monica might find someone to spend a night with or that you’d be separated at any point during your trip. But you realize that’s a definite possibility now, and as you have already stated, you don’t want to hold her back from having fun.

“Yeah,” you agree with a nod. “I think that’s okay. As long as you let me know and send me his address or a photo of his house and car or something like that, y’know?”

“Girl code!” Monica proclaims loudly. “I swear!”

Malcolm does, indeed, invite Monica back to his place. You receive a text message from her a few hours after she leaves for the bakery dressed in a sexy-but-not-too-sexy plaid print skirt and white blouse paired with nude pumps and a knee-length, clay-colored cashmere cardigan. The text also states that Malcolm promises to provide pastries for breakfast in the morning and a carafe of his unique herbal tea blend.

You’re happy for Monica and content to enjoy your quiet night in. The soft babble of a brook can be heard just outside, through the open window of your room. It’s peaceful. You spend several hours just sitting by the open window, imagining the festivities to come. It’s a magical moment all its own, just you and the small window view to the world beyond that grows slowly darker as the sun sinks in the sky. You’re so at peace when you finally settle down to sleep. The nerves and anxiousness you thought you’d feel the night before Beltane are nonexistent. You sleep amazingly.

🌸🌸🌸

The sun has barely crested over the horizon when you make it downstairs to the lobby of the Inn. Monica texted this morning to let you know that she was going in with Malcolm to open his bakery first thing in the morning and that warm, fresh pastries and tea would be waiting for you.

The plan is to have breakfast and then head to try and find An Bhláth. Lorna is still sitting behind the front desk as you cross the lobby. She waves and bids you a bright and fruitful Beltane. The bakery is brightly lit, and you can see Monica sitting at a small cafe table chatting away with Malcolm, who has his elbows resting over the counter, sparkling eyes locked on your best friend.

You chose a comfortable pair of jeans cuffed above brown ankle boots and a loose-fitting emerald-colored knit blouse as your attire for the day; still undecided if you’ll change before the festivities begin. Though, you’re leaning more toward spending more time enjoying the rich culture around you than worrying about your outfit. You hope Monica holds the same sentiment after she’s had a chance to change out of last night's outfit, at least.

A tiny bell tinkles overhead when you push open the door to the bakery. It smells like warm bread and sweet treats with an undercurrent of earthy, spiced tea inside. Your stomach gives an appreciative rumble when your eyes land on the spread of fluffy and glazed pastries in the display case.

Monica jumps up from her seat and throws her arms around your neck. “Oh my, holy shit, I think Malcolm is the man of my dreams,” she whispers fiercely into your ear before releasing you and promptly introducing you.

“Chuffed tae meet ye,” Malcolm offers in a thick Scottish brogue, a broad smile on his face. He clears his throat, enunciating his following words carefully while giving Monica a wink. “Mo has told me all about you.” His eyes flick between you and her. “Wis that guid?”

She taps her hand on the counter before him and snorts a laugh. “That was perfect! Mal’s been working on his American accent. It’s pretty good right?” Her eyes go soft when she looks at him. “I like the way you talk either way. But, your natural accent was something extra special last night when you—“

“Whoa, I don’t need to know about how his accent sounded last night,” you laugh, waving a hand in the air toward her. “I was promised pastries and tea. That seems like a safer conversation to have.”

Malcolm guffaws, his broad shoulders shaking and straining the fabric of his white dress shirt. You can see the leather belt fastening his purple and green tartan patterned kilt around his waist just above the counter. Your first glimpse at classic Scottish celebratory wear. “Ye’r right. Ye can have anythin’ ‘ere.” He gestures to the glass display case. “Cuppa is over there,” he adds, nodding toward a steaming silver carafe on the other side of the pastry case.

Monica excuses herself to run back to your shared room at the Inn to change and get ready for the day. Malcolm presses a loud kiss on her cheek as he opens the door for her. She blushes and hurries out of sight. A few people walk by, waving to Malcolm. One elderly lady peeks her head in and asks about Malcolm’s shop hours today. You’re surprised to find out he’s not open, not really, at least, he clarifies when the lady throws a look in your direction. She mumbles something about needing fresh bread for her Beltane supper before letting the door fall closed again.

“Sorry to have caused any issues with your shop. I had no idea you weren’t opening today. Monica made it sound like you were going to be,” you try to explain, dusting flaky pastry from your fingers onto a napkin.

“Dinna fash yer heid aboot it,” he replies as he busies himself behind the counter. “I was coming in for personal reasons, gathering some supplies for the festival at Bowhill House tonight.” How he effortlessly flows between his natural Scottish and his practiced American makes you smile.

“Your American is really quite good,” you comment before latching on to the last thing he said. “Bowhill House? You’re catering for them?”

“Thank you. My dream is to be a voice actor. The shop is my ma’s wish, not mine,” he explains, maintaining the accent perfectly. “I am. Well, I am one of the caterers. Rhubarb crumble and bannock are my specialties.” He lofts a tray up from behind the pastry case. It’s filled with small bite-sized tarts with bright red centers. “Though, the bannock, I will be making over an open fire once I get to Bowhill.”

Bannock is right near the top of your list of things to try while you’re here. The fact that Malcolm will be making traditional bannock over an open fire makes you beyond happy. You can’t wait to try it, and you tell him as much as you finish off your pastry and spiced tea.

Monica reappears a few minutes later, dressed to the nines. She’s wearing a beautiful moss green-colored bodycon dress and black tights. A light jacket sits on her shoulders, and she has a crossbody clutch nestled under her arm.

You thank Malcolm for breakfast, and Monica ensures him you both will be finding him at Bowhill to try his bannock. She whispers something in his ear that makes you think she’s promised to try more than just his bannock later.

“He’s cute,” you comment, walking arm in arm with Monica along the sidewalk leading toward the address Malcolm gave you for An Bhláth. You were overjoyed to find out the place actually still exists, and the owner, Aoibheann, is the same one your grandpa spoke of when talking about the small herb and spice shop. He called it an alchemy parlor. But from what Malcolm told you, Aoibheann sells dried teas, flowers, and other small trinkets like crystals. She’s famous for her May Day flower crowns, though, which is what you intend to go for.

“He’s perfect,” she sighs. “Too perfect. I don’t think I’m going to see him again.”

“Mo,” you stop short, tugging her to a stop beside you. “What the hell?”

She purses her lips, avoiding your gaze. “Don’t give me that look. I don’t want to get attached. It’s for the better.”

“I don’t think you should hold yourself back if it feels right. Love—” she makes a face when you say that word “—doesn’t have a strict formula to follow. It’s always changing. It can vary, and what it means to people can be different. If you like Malcolm, enjoy it, embrace it, and don’t run from happiness, even if it’s only fleeting. Trust me, doing that will never get you anywhere.”

Monica squeezes your arm with hers. “I know,” she says softly. You know she’s thinking about your terrible lack of romantic life. You can’t help that no one ever seems to understand you.

“Just don’t close yourself off, is all I’m saying. You’ll see Malcolm again tonight, stuff your mouth with his bannock, and if nothing else happens, then that’s how it is.”

She laughs, the sound trailing off as you both continue walking. The small tea and spice shop comes into view a little while later. The sign for An Bhláth hangs by chains from an iron post above the door. The wood is weathered and dark with age, but the letters look freshly painted in pretty pastel pinks and yellows.

The door creaks and rattles softly as you push it open. Inside the shop is all manner of canisters and clear jars containing what looks like dried flowers, tea, and spices. An earthy and subtly peppery fragrance fills the air, accompanied by a pleasant warmth that has Monica shucking off her jacket and draping it over her arm.

“We’re nae meant to be gone to the fountain for another hour, Jasper. Come back in a bawherr,” a rattling voice comes from an open doorway that you assume leads to the back of the shop. The accent is subtle, but there is a roughness that belies age.

“Sorry,” you call out, “not Jasper. We’re here in hopes of making some Beltane flower crowns for tonight. I was told An Bhláth is the best place for that.”

“Och!” There is a loud thump from the back, and then a short, grey-haired woman ambles from the back, leaning heavily on a wooden cane. “Pardon me. I thought ye were my boy stopping to pester me some more. Goddess above knows I dinnae get around as easily as I once dae. Boy needs to learn some patience.” She stops on the other side of the front counter, finally bringing her gaze up to meet yours. Despite the wrinkles and apparent age her body holds, her eyes are a bright and clear sky blue. “Flower crowns for Beltane, hm? Ye came to the right place. I’m Aoibheann, more than happy to help ye lassies.”

You smile back at Monica, who is hunched down near a cabinet of little glass bottles. “Are these real?” she asks, fingering a pale green bottle the size of her thumb.

Aoibheann chuckles. “As real as ye want them to be, lass. Magick dinnae work the same for a’body.”

Monica snorts, and you can practically hear her eye roll. “Magic. Right.” She straightens up and steps away from the cabinet. “Flower crowns. Do you have any pink roses? They compliment my complexion the best.”

The old lady harrumphs softly. “Ye dinnae want pink roses. Nae unless yer okay wi’ bein’ scooped up by the green folk. Na, ye’ll be wanting these,” she says with a crooked smile, hooking her cane on the lip of the counter and stooping down. Aoibheann hefts a tattered box up onto the counter. You can see sprigs of green and colorful blooms of orange and purple flowers peeking out of the top.

“Green folk?” Monica asks. “You mean like fairies and stuff?”

“Dinnae look so skeptical,” Aoibheann chides gently. “If ye’r attending Beltane, ye’ll be wanting some protection. Ye ken nae believe in magick, but they surely dae.”

You wrap a hand around one of Monica’s, squeezing it. She glances at you, and her face immediately smoothes out from the scowl that is bunching her features. “For me?” you ask her softly, nodding your head toward the box on the counter and Aoibheann waiting patiently with her hands braced to either side of it.

You know Monica is a skeptic, and you don’t blame her at all. But that feeling is back, the one that niggles in the pit of your belly that says this is the right thing to do. The crowns aren’t even made, and you already feel closer, just looking at these bundles of flowers, to your grandpa than you have in the last year.

“I did say I was up for anything,” she finally relents, squeezing your hand in return. “Let’s make these crowns, but there better be some sort of pink flower in there.”

That makes Aoibheann chuckle again. “Dinnae fash, lassie,” she says, digging a hand into the box and producing two stems of clustered pink flowers. One is long and bell-shaped, and the other has more petite pink-to-white gradient petals. “Foxglove and verbena are essentials.”

“Oh, how pretty!” Monica’s mood instantly brightens. She swoops forward and begins to help Aoibheann pick out flowers, herbs, and stems of greenery from the box.

Weaving the flower crowns is fun. Aoibheann ushered you and Monica to a table nestled in a small alcove near the back of the shop. She set to explaining the different plants and herbs in the box and which ones were best to use. The two ash wood circlet bases she pulled from another box are soon covered in tufts of rosemary, blossoms of foxglove, verbena, daisies, and clover. You sit back and admire your work as Monica gushes over how the bright greens and pretty pastel pinks compliment her outfit and complexion. 

“There is one other flower that is very important, perhaps the most important o’ them all. Tis the honey bell, ‘n it wards off any ‘n all fae. As long as yer circle o’honey bell remains unbroken, no fae will be able tae charm ye or touch ye,” Aoibheann explains with a quiet yet stern tone. “Promise me, lassies. Ye will nae break yer circles.” She places a hand on one of yours and Monica’s, eyes flicking between the two of you until you both nod in understanding. “Good, let’s get them added.”

Aoibheann ambles over to a cabinet, reaching up to the highest shelf and dragging down a metal box. It’s aged and dark from layers of patina. It makes a hollow thunking noise when Aoibheann sets it on the table between you and Monica. She closes her eyes momentarily, her lips moving with silent words. There is a soft click, and then the lid pops open.

“They’re pretty,” Monica remarks, taking in the bright yellow flowers inside. “They survive being inside this metal box?”

“Iron,” Aoibheann says, tapping the side of the box. “Protects them as they will protect ye.” With slow and precise instructions from Aoibheann, you and Monica weave a perfect ring of the small, yellow, bell-shaped flowers into your Beltane crowns. “Perfect,” the old woman confirms with a smile once you’re done. “Best be off with ye now. Jasper should be back by soon, and we’ll be heading on to Bowhill. Ye lassies enjoy yerselves. Goddess willing, we’ll see each other while enjoying her eternal flame tonight.”

Thanking Aoibheann again, you and Monica pay for the crowns and make your way back onto the street with them safely tucked away in a silk pouch Aoibheann insisted that you have. You pull the long bag strap over your head, letting it hang down toward your opposite hip.

“We’re driving to Bowhill, right?” Monica asks.

She gives you a fearful look that makes you laugh. “Of course, we’re driving. It’s at least an hour's walk from the Inn. I wouldn’t put you through that.” You herd her down the street for a late, light lunch. “I want to get there early so we can watch some of the preparations, though.”

🌸🌸🌸

Just a few hours later, you find yourself with your jaw hanging open as you stare out the window, crawling along at a snail's pace down the winding drive that leads to the Bowhill House.

“Oh, Mo, it’s more than I could have ever imagined. Are you seeing this?”

Monica suppresses a laugh. “Nah, my eyes are closed,” she teases. “Of course I see this. It’s…a lot.”

That is an understatement. It’s far more than a lot. The car creeps down the drive, and on either side, there are hundreds—perhaps thousands—of white awnings and bustling people. The stalls of food and wares extend further than you can see from your seat in the car.

Garlands of flowers and silken streams are strung from every pole and stand, painting the entire scene in swaths of every color imaginable. You can see people laughing and dancing between moments of preparation work. The faint bellow of a bagpipe mixed with the whine of an accordion and the peel of a flute can be heard coming from somewhere out in the mix of festivities.

A man in a black livery directs traffic at the end of the drive. He ushers you into a spot before continuing to point the cars that followed behind you to others.

“I can’t believe we’re actually here,” you say before opening the door and climbing out of the rental. Monica slides out on the other side, and her door clicking shut pulls your attention from the large, sprawling manor to your friend. “It’s even more beautiful than the pictures I saw online.”

“It really is something,” she agrees. Her eyes drift from yours to the estate behind you. It’s something right out of a Regency novel. The brick-facing and stone crenellations are dark compared to the cream-colored window accents and front arches. You feel like you’re transported back in time and are about to be welcomed by some handsome Scottish man of an elite peerage.

Monica comes around the side of the car and slips her arm into yours. “Let’s go have some fun!” She begins to pull you toward the festivities being set up on the front lawn, but you pull her up short.

“Wait, our crowns. We can’t forget them.” You pull your arm from hers and turn back to the car. In the backseat, you grab the silk bag and gently remove the flowered crowns from the inside. Dropping the bag back on the seat, you turn and push the door closed with your hip. “Here,” you say, holding out Monica's to her.

“Right. Our protection pieces,” she murmurs, giving you a placating smile. “At least they’re cute.” You each help one another secure the crowns on your heads. Thankfully, Monica packed a small stash of bobby pins for this trip. “Smile!” Monica procures her phone and lofts it up to snap a photo of you two with your crowns on. “Hashtag flower power!” She immediately uploads the photo to Instagram. If she is willing to indulge your whims with Beltane, you can at least return the same sentiment with her need to document said whims in her own fashion.

Ironically enough, one of the first people you encounter is Malcolm. He’s hauling an armload of wood toward one of the roaring fire pits.

“Lookin’ bonnie,” he calls, flashing Monica a mischievous smile and wink. “Bannock should be ready within the hour.”

There is a clear rosiness coloring Monica’s cheeks as she giggles and waves at him in passing. “If you want to know what it looks like, I’ll tell you,” she offers in a low whisper to you. Her emerald eyes twinkle with mischief as she bites her bottom lip.

“Yeah, no, I’ll pass on that information.” You can’t help but laugh. The tension you hadn’t realized you were holding in begins to bleed away. It’s going to be a perfect night. You can feel it.

Over the next few hours, you somehow end up dancing around a Maypole—much to your own surprise as you protested profusely at first—and have now acquired a braided sash of purple and white silk. Monica lets you take the lead as you both traipse through the fanfare. She may have been a bit reluctant or skeptical initially, but she quickly and easily falls into the joyous atmosphere just as much as you do.

There are several dozen Beltane bonfires littered throughout the grounds. Grizzled older men and wizened older women recite ballads and poems while flocks of children dance around and perform small acts to go with the stories. Groups of teenagers egg each other on, daring each other to jump over the bonfires as is the ancient tradition.

Somewhere between a dance around a Maypole and helping a gaggle of women hand out May baskets and small bottles of Beltane dew to the elderly vendors, Monica disappears in search of Malcolm and a drink.

The celebration is everything you imagined and more. Your grandpa’s stories have come to life all around you, and it’s an exhilarating experience. You’re not sure the last time you smiled and laughed so much your cheeks ached.

Finally, you’re able to break away from the dancing. Your stomach rumbles, and you decide to find Monica and then some food. You follow the smell of grilled meats and baked bread until you come to the roasting pits. Along the way, you hand off your lace and silk sash to a roses-cheeked little girl with honey bell and foxglove flowers braided into her hair. She stares up at you in awe before scampering off and squealing with glee.

Continuing on, you’re starting to regret letting Monica go off on her own in such a large and unknown area. A few minutes later, though, relief floods you as you spot Monica perched comfortably in Malcolm’s lap beside a bonfire. Her cheek rests against his chest, and red splotches are scattered over her neck, a telltale sign she’s been drinking.

“Babe!” Monica lurches up from Malcolm’s lap, startling him, as she reaches for you. “I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you! Oh gosh, where have you been?” She throws an arm around your shoulders and sags against you. The distinct smell of wine wafts from her parted lips.

“Find some good wine, Mo?”

Malcolm stands up and tries to help you with Monica, but your friend grumbles and swats his hands away. “Not now, Mal, we’ll fuck later. Sheesh. It’s like he’s in love with me or something. Oh damn. Do you love me, Malcolm?”

His eyebrows shoot up, and he gives you a bewildered look. “Okay, let’s get you some water and sit you down somewhere.”

“She would nae take water from me earlier. Maybe ye can get her to drink some.” Malcolm sighs before turning to dig through an ice chest near his setup. “I offered her food, but she dinnae want to eat without ye, and we could nae find ye. She assured me ye’d come to find us eventually.”

That definitely sounds like Monica. You shuffle over to the seat Malcolm was in earlier with Monica in his lap. “Down we go. Gentle. There, much better.” Monica pouts up at you from where she’s slumped over in the lawn chair.

“I’m hungry,” she slurs.

“Malcolm, do you mind watching her for a little bit while I grab some food for us?” you ask as he comes back over with a bottle of water.

“Of course, dinnae fash. I’ll do anything ye need me to.” 

“Mo, I’m going to go get some food. Let Malcolm give you some water, please.” You crouch down next to the lawn chair to look Monica in the eyes. They’re glazed over, and a soft smile curls her lips.

“Malcolm. Do you mean the hot one with the big dick? He can give me whatever he wants,” she sighs dreamily. “You should have seen him last night, babe. It was—”

“Hold that thought,” you cut her off with a finger to her lips. “I’ll be right back, and then you can tell me all about it.” Or not. Hopefully, she’ll be sobering up a bit after you get some water and food into her. “I’ll be right back,” you tell Malcolm. He crouches down on Monica’s other side and tries to get her attention.

As you stand up to head toward where you can see the meat grills a few stalls down, Monica throws up a hand and tries to pull you back down to her. “Wait!” Her hand whacks you in the ear, and her fingers tangle in your hair. “Ack! Oh no, I’m stuck!” she yells, yanking her hand from your hair in a shower of purple and pink flower petals.

“Oh, jeez, Mo.” You step away from her and pat at your hair, feeling for the crown on your head. It still feels intact, but the sprinkling of flower petals on the ground makes you frown. “Just keep your hands here,” you grab them both and put them in her lap. “I’ll be right back.” Malcolm gives you an apologetic look as you take another step. You give him a subtle shake of your chin to let him know it’s not his fault. Monica is her own person, and sometimes that person likes to drink a bottle or two of wine even though she knows she shouldn’t.

Before she can grab at you again, you move further away and watch as Malcolm brings up a large hand and cups Monica’s cheek. She sways in the chair and giggles at him. You hear his deep voice speaking softly and sweetly as he assures her you’ll be back and encourages her to drink water. You sigh and shake your head, surprised when a few yellow flower petals slip from your hair and land on your shoulders. Brushing them away, you continue toward the grill pit.

The smell of smoked and seasoned grilled meats fills your lungs and makes your mouth water. The minor incident and Monica’s drunkenness quickly fade as you survey the plethora of food. There is a servicing table to one side, covered in a bounty of cutlery, plates, and napkins.

You approach the table and reach for a plate. Your hand bumps into another one going for the same plate. “Oh, wow, sorry!” a bright, pleasant voice says beside you.

Jerking your hand back to your chest at the oddly cold touch, you startle. Wide eyes flick up, and you can’t help but gape a little. The man standing beside you is devastatingly handsome. Perfectly styled black hair frames his smooth forehead and slightly covers his ears. Large, brown eyes with a beautiful circle of green through the irises meet yours above a charmingly boyish smile and blushed cheeks.

“Wow. No. I mean. I’m the sorry one. I obviously wasn’t paying attention to my actions or surroundings.” You take a step away from the serving table and point with your hand not still pressed to your chest at the stack of plates. “Please, you first.”

Those unique, marbled eyes survey you. They slowly drift from your face down to your chest before trailing all the way down to the brown boots on your feet. “You can get in a lot of trouble by not paying attention to your surroundings.” He says it so matter-of-factly that you’re not sure if he’s just teasing or being serious.

In the silence following his statement, you let your own eyes flick over him. He’s wearing a matching shirt, trousers, and jacket. All such a pure white that they stand out even in the dim light from the grills and twinkle lights strung up over the tables. His coat is light and transparent, with ribbons of white lace and silk fluttering around the hem. A crescent-shaped silver necklace sits in the hollow of his throat. The delicate pendant shakes as he begins to laugh.

“What?” you question, thinking maybe you missed him saying something more.

“You’re cute,” he says. “What’s your name?”

The abrupt question furrows your brow, but you still find your mouth opening to answer him. Though, instead of your name, you offer, “That’s a dangerous question to ask at Beltane. Don’t you know the stories?”

“It’s only dangerous if you think I’m a faerie.” He raises a skeptical brow, his lips pulling into that charming smile again. “How about this? I’m JK. There. Now you have nothing to fear since you have my name.”

“JK.” You hum, mulling it over and letting the name roll off your tongue. “Sorry, JK, I still don’t think I should give you my name.”

“I’ll just call you Beautiful, then.” He props a hip against the table's edge, and his eyes snap up to the top of your head. “That’s a nice flower crown, Beautiful. Did you make it yourself?” He reaches forward and brushes a finger through your hair before you can step back. More flower petals cascade down. “Looks like you had an accident. Some of your flowers have come loose. Are those foxglove and rosemary? Interesting choices.”

“Oh,” you raise a hand and pat at the crown, stepping further away from the stranger. As you feel around the circle, you’re distinctly aware of large swaths of missing petals and greenery. A chill slithers down your spine, and goosebumps pop up along your arms. “Damn. I-uh, I should go fix it. Thank you.”

Looking around at your surroundings, you can’t help but notice the person nearest to you, aside from the man still leaning against the table, is now several stalls away. The grill pits are still blazing, but all the people who were tending the meat skewers are now eerily absent.

“I would say I’m sorry about this. But, I can’t lie.” The low-spoken words from the handsome stranger register a moment before you feel his grip on your arm. Your startled scream gets caught behind his other hand, clamping over your mouth.

Your feet kick in the air as the man hauls you away from the serving table and into the shadows beyond the light of the festivities. The thundering of your heartbeat pounds away in your ears as your breathing becomes erratic and tears escape the corners of your eyes. This isn’t how tonight was supposed to go. Panic turns everything hazy, muffling all sounds and sensations. You’re aware of the terrain changing and trees engulfing you from all sides, but nothing registers until you’re unceremoniously shoved forward.

A ring of purple and pink flowers is the last thing you see before you’re tumbling headlong into a small, clear pond. Water shoots up your nose and fills your mouth as you plummet like a rock, not stopping until your hands come into contact with the muddy bottom. It’s disorienting, having dropped in head first. You flail for a moment, trying to right yourself. Finally, getting your feet in the right direction, you kick off from the bottom and use wide sweeping motions with your arms to propel yourself to the surface.

You break with a strangled garble, coughing the cold water from your lungs. “Fucking hell!” you scream, looking around frantically, trying to find the nearest edge to swim to. Paddling over to a small outcropping, you latch onto the rock and try pulling yourself from the water. Just as you get one knee up on the rock, a hand grips your arm and hauls you clear from the water.

“Now, I am sorry for that. I was aiming for the thatch of clover, not the loch. Good to see you can swim, though,” JK says as if he hasn’t just kidnapped you away from the Beltane celebration and thrown you into a pond.

“Don’t touch me,” you snarl and jerk free from his hold on your arms. “You need to take me back to Bowhill House immediately, or I swear I’ll scream!”

“Screaming probably isn’t the best idea, not unless you want to alert the kelpies that live in that cave over there,” he says, nodding to a small opening in the rock face on the other side of the pond.

You scoff. “Kelpies. Right. Okay, fairy boy, I’ve had enough games for the night. Please, just point me in the right direction to make it back to Bowhill House, and I promise I won’t alert the authorities or anything.”

“No can do, Beautiful. At least, not for another six moons. The doorway was weak enough when we came through. There’s no way you’d make it back all in one piece with dawn so close now.” JK turns and begins down a small dirt path leading away from the pond. “Best you just come with me for now.”

A frown turns your lips down over your teeth that you’re now clenching to keep from chattering. You’re soaked, and a chill slowly seeps beneath your wet clothes. “I most certainly will not be going anywhere with you. Are you fucking insane?! You threw me into a pond!”

Those brown and green eyes meet yours over his shoulder. He shrugs. “It’s a loch. But, suit yourself, then. The kelpie that inhabits that cave should be coming out in three…two….”

Before he says one, you hear a mournful whinny from behind you. A wet gurgle and a plop follow, and then the sound of something scrabbling against the rock. You look back at the water and see two long, slender arms protruding from the mouth of the cave. Water sleuths along the arms, dripping from pale white equine-looking hooves. Letting loose a scream, you scramble away from the water’s edge and bump solidly into JK’s body. “Holy shit!”

He chuckles low in your ear, “…one. Never been a fan of kelpies, but they do good to keep unwanted visitors out of our loch. Now, if you stop panicking, we really should leave before he fully emerges. The last thing I want to do tonight is cut his head off.”

You’re still trembling and trying to wrap your head around what you saw as you allow JK to usher you down the dirt path. Knee-high grass sways gently to either side of the trail. Right now, he seems like the lesser of two evils. But that could be simply because he at least looks normal enough. The thing that was crawling out of the cave, however…you shudder with the mental image.

“What was that?”

“Do you have water in your ears? I’m pretty sure I said it was a kelpie at least three times.”

You don’t care for the attitude coming from this man. “Is this part of some fucked up Beltane tradition around here? It’s really not nice to scare people like this. You’ve had your laughs and your fun. Now, I just want to return to Bowhill House, find my friend, and leave.”

“I guess you need to hear many things more than once. We can’t go back through the gateway until what you might know as Samhain. Which is roughly six moons from now.”

“Six moons? Is that some sort of riddle? Look, this is cool and all, but I insist you let me go. Point me in the right direction, and I’ll make it back myself.”

The laugh that comes from JK has what little color remains in your face draining away. JK flexes his fingers around your arm, adjusting his grip as he continues to haul you down the path. “Look around you, Beautiful. Use that pretty brain of yours to do some deductive reasoning. You’re not in Selkirk anymore. You’re certainly not in Scotland anymore. You’re not even in your own realm, for that matter.”

You wet your suddenly dry lips, trying to work moisture back into your mouth to tell him he’s wrong. There’s no mistaking the differences around you, though. The moon and stars overhead look the same at first glance, but the longer you look, the more apparent it becomes that the stars are all slightly dimmer, and the moon has a bluish-grey ring around it. Odd sounds chirp from the darkness, unlike anything you’ve ever heard before, even in Scotland. The grass surrounding you seems to move on its own, despite there being no wind you can feel. The long wheat and moss-colored stalks move as if to avoid being brushed against by you or JK.

Shoving the thought of what he just said away–you simply don’t have the energy to think about deciphering his bullshit right now–you focus on getting answers that might be less cryptic. A large copse of trees looms ahead. “Are we going in there?” you whisper. Hugging your arms around yourself as best you can, you try to keep from shivering outright. The wet sweater and jeans you have on cling to you, sapping whatever warmth you have left.

“We are,” JK confirms just before pulling you past the first towering tree. The atmosphere under the boughs drastically differs from the grassland where the loch was. Humidity and warmth immediately creep in, making you feel even more sluggish as you drip beside JK.

Roots seem to reach up to snag at your feet, the dirt path wholly lost under the crisscross pattern of twining wood. “Can you slow down?” you huff. The ground is so uneven it’s hard to keep your balance. JK doesn’t seem to have an issue, stepping lightly from root to root without so much as a wobble.

“Nope.” The word is accompanied by JK pivoting and sweeping down. His shoulder notches against your stomach, and the next thing you know, your world tilts wildly as he flips you over his shoulder.

The squeak of protest that leaves you is embarrassingly loud and piercing in your own ears. “Put me down!” You beat your fists against his back and flail as much as possible. In your valiant effort to dislodge yourself from over his shoulder, you manage to knock free the remnants of your flower crown. “Oh, no!” You try to grab for the falling circle, but it tumbles between the dark roots and disappears; so much for its supposed protective powers.

You’re so busy ranting and cursing at JK that you miss the roots being replaced with lush grass and tiny purple flowers but promptly cut off your latest tirade of profanities when he starts up a wooden set of steps leading to a porch.

“Open the door,” he calls out as he stomps up the last few steps. You try to swivel around on his shoulder to get a better look at your surroundings. It doesn’t help that it’s nearly pitch black outside, the only light coming from the smattering of stars barely penetrating the overhead foliage.

A blast of warm air hits the backs of your thighs as you hear hinges creaking as a door opens. “What the hell?” a deep yet soft voice asks.

“More like who the hell?” comes another voice from further away. “Who do you have there, Jun—“ The voice cuts off as you feel the man carrying you throw up a hand. You presume to keep whoever was speaking from saying his actual name. You file that away for later…Ju-something. “This, my dear Yoons,” he emphasizes the name, “is a human that I’ve named Beautiful.” He grips your hips and pulls you off his shoulder, dropping you in a wet heap at the feet of a beautiful man with silver hair, brilliant green eyes, protruding canines, and pointed ears. “She’s going to be your mate.”

Next Chapter⇾ ◅ Back to series masterlist  

◅ Back to Main Master List   ©️ 2023-05-06 ColorMePurplex2

[snailsandpuppy-dogtails]

The Fuzz

Flufftober 2022 Day 4 Supporting silly quirks/ hobbies Garvez wc: 737

It’s not like he did it every time, it would look excessive if he did, lose it’s meaning. But after a particularly hard or stressful assignment Luke made it his mission to find something special to add to her collection of adorable wonders and delightful distractions. Time spent sifting through websites, and specialty shops in person, when he was feeling up to it, to locate and retrieve a shining piece of joy just for her.  

He’d first done it because of a suggestion on how to ingratiate himself to the spiky-only-to-him technical analyst wonder extraordinaire that was Penelope Garcia. And though she still had yet to really admit it, that first small black and white squeak had helped melt her icy exterior. 

From the outside it could be assumed he had kept up the task of adding to her quirky collection for the same reason- to keep himself in her good graces, but secretly, Luke did it because it brought him joy. Making people happy had always been a point of pride for him. Being liked, working well with others, this was really just a natural continuation of that. But again, what he wouldn’t admit was after that first time, seeing how she lit up, he’d become hooked on the feeling he got from making her happy. 

The thrill he felt when she’d find it, her new addition, and come storming, or skipping, or drifting by his desk (dependent on her mood), to “confront” him, item in hand. The hint of a smile or a broad grin gracing her face, glow emanating from every pore, regardless of how she was presenting herself that day, set his body atingle. So yeah, he absolutely indulged this silly little quirk. In fact, he loved the the process as a whole. The ritual of it, the excuse of it granting himself permission to spend so much time thinking just about her. What she might like, what would be different enough to be noticed, novel enough to be loved, but still something entirely her taste. And then where to put it, sneaking in to her space leaving nothing disturbed, and finally time waiting, imagining her keeping a watchful eye out for it or casually stumbling over it. Seeing something new for the first time, something that hadn’t belonged before and then her thinking about him, linking the item and person immediately. These bits and bobs warmed her deep inside and as a result softened her towards him. 

This most recent one he’s especially proud of. He saw it in the window of a little shop down an alley while chasing a suspect through China Town and knew the second it flashed by his vision he would need to make time to come back and get it for her before they left. He’s been waiting for her to find all day, waiting still as everyone else had packed up and gone home, Luke slogging on his report to bide time. He’d been imagining her excitement as her hand carelessly knocked against it, or noticing the unusual purple and white pattern a cow should not have, picking it up only to find it’s really a bell, shaking it gently to make the tinkle sing out again. 

The bell trilled in his ear. “Whatcha thinkin’ about, Newbie?”  

The goofy smile he’d been wearing morphed into his smooth warm one, Penelope coming into focus, finally here in front of him. He could see the elation behind her eyes at her newest acquisition, horns delicately pinched between thumb and forefinger cow poised to ring again. But there was a hint of mischief at their corners. “Thinking’ about how fast you’ll run when I ring my cow-bell? Thank you, by the way, it’ll be very helpful.” If she only knew. “I dunno what you’re talking about, Garcia, that’s not from me.” he said standing up pointing at the small squat figure. “Like I said, I think they’re multiplying.” Just because he liked seeing her happy didn’t mean he was going to let on what he’d been doing. Tucking the the report in his backpack, he offered her his arm “Walk you out?” She tossed the cow in her hand, catching it, fingers curling. She glanced up at him, then down to the object, knowing smile forming, and back to his face linking her arm with his. “I’m glad you’re safe.” Penelope collected fuzzy trinkets, Luke collected fuzzy feelings.  

@flufftober

[snurtle]

what are ur opinions on mr jingly spiky hair man from bleach that i forgot the name of agaiKENPACHI THATS THE BITCH

[Remember the character opinion meme from Months Ago? I do! LOL]

You bastard, I know you sent this to me because of your extensive knowledge of my past blorbos.

I'm not going to section this off into clean little subdivisions but here's the gist! Half headcanon, half gutfeel, it's the Kenpachi Corner Power Hour with your host, ME.

Kenpachi was the first character I ever attached to super hard, so this is a VERY funny exercise to be doing after so many years.

_____

This guy is like the poster child for "negative attention is better than no attention at all." He dolls himself up with bells and power limiters and bits and pieces pulled off of corpses because there's no better way for a kept tiger to get a little bit of enrichment than seeming /approachable/. He marks himself as the biggest, shiniest, prettiest target around and then by turns, either spends his time -waiting for his knights in shining armor to come and RUMBLE with him, or gets bored and goes to look for said knights himself.

Also, what's up with this guy's self care. He bathes regularly but leaves /soap/ in his hair to spike it rather than just getting some hair wax? Does he know that hair wax exists? Does he not like the smell? How does Sasakibe feel about this? Unohana? To survive battlefield wound infection you've got to be pretty clean and conscious, but-- I. I just. Like. ???? I can never tell if he just doesn't know something or has just decided consciously to discard it in favor of Getting It Done in the Quickest and Most Adequate Way Possible. <- Which sounds exactly like a thought that I'm sure plenty of Gotei members have had, leading to such classic moments as: "Does this guy just pass his paperwork off to his seated officers because he's a jackass or can he not read and write?"

"Quarterly Seminar on Correcting Misinformation with only Moderate to Severe Bloodloss: How to tell if your Superiors aren't Listening and Whether or Not it's Important that They Have The Right Idea in the First Place- Alternate Title: How to know when you should do it yourself."

"Captain Zaraki hasn't cashed his paycheck in almost eight months. ...Does he know how? (no) Was he aware that he gets paid? (also no)":

And beyond all that. I just love his personality. He strikes me as very childish in his limited self knowledge and worldview, the way that he has to fumble with things that other people figured out (with help and company) ages ago. The way that his sword spirit reflects this juvenile state and the terrifying capacity to grow. The very adult incuriosity-borderline-cognitoblindness of things outside his expertise, things he isn't good at, things he was never expected to know or show an interest in. Kenpachi isn't stupid, and he loves a challenge. But part of me wonders if that's true universally- or if there's some part of him that ignores things that AREN'T fighting/physical/fun because he's afraid that if he paid attention, he might find himself lacking in a way that he won't know how to compensate for. Maybe if he found other things he was interested in, it would just add to the lingering dissatisfaction already ever-present from having no one to match him in battle. Maybe finding more interests would just mean more disappointment! Well, better not to look at all then.

I love the way that he's surrounded by people more aware of his potential than HE is, who're purposefully curtailing his growth because of the fear for where he'll go and what he'll do! I love that despite the widespread and repeated insistence of his monstrosity, Kenpachi's code of honor is both Specific and Discrete (while somehow still being appropriately Feral).

Like Frankenstein's monster, but for fightyboys.

I want to see what he does in the company of non-combatants, with no sword in his hand and people who don't have much (if anything) to prove. I think he would explode like a hot coke can in a vacuum, but after that, who knows? Maybe he'll take up cooking.

[eorzean-tale]

FFXIV Writing Challenge - Prompt #15: Row

Part eight of the tale about the Golden Vipers Seeker of the Sun tribe after most of them were tempered by a false depiction of their Goddess for many turns. Part One || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8  || Part 9

The trees were looming things, their branches like spiky fingers reaching for the sky above and creatures below. Their leaves were always rustling in the wind, like the forest was whispering to itself. It wasn’t that bad around the Gridanian settlements, where the forest felt tamed compared to deeper in. Rkah spotted an open area where they planted crops in neat rows, such a stark contrast amidst the harmonious chaos of nature. It wasn’t often that he found signs of city-state civilisation in the wilds this comforting, but nothing about the Shroud was welcoming to him. He couldn’t see very far, as there was always a tree blocking the view. Even the Goddess couldn’t reach him well through the dense canopy above. Only splotches of light where he should have been basking in her glory at this time of day. It felt worse the deeper they went.

Tia and Nunh made slow progress through the underbrush, constantly jumping and climbing over roots and fallen trees while ducking under branches. He was too exhausted to do anything but sit by the fire and eat his rations in silence by the time the first night came around, and the days that followed had him fare no better. Maybe they would die in this sun–shy hell of a forest, he started to think by the fourth day of their trek. His back was hurting from the slow pace, and all manner of insects had found him a good thing to snack on at night. Why would anyone want to live out here was beyond his ability to understand, but he kept his tongue and saved his energy the best he could.

Khua seemed to be doing much better than him, though it wouldn’t have surprised Rkah if he was just better at being stoic about it. The older man was weakened, sure, but he had a dignity about him that never left him, not even when he swatted at a stinging bug aiming for his neck. Was that age, the Tia wondered. Or would someone just have to be born that way?

He’d been paying too much attention to the other man, and not enough to where he was planting his feet. An error he regretted as his foot slipped on a rock and he crashed into the underbrush. Of course he had to land in the middle of a bush with more thorns than he had ever seen in his entire life, just his luck. Rkah groaned as Khua helped him up. At first the Nunh looked concerned, but when he realised it was Rkah’s pride that was hurt more than anything else, he seemed to be having trouble keeping in an amused chuckle. 

“We’re almosst there,” he told him softly as he pulled out a deeply embedded thorn, sniffing it before he tossed it over his shoulder. “You’re lucky those aren’t poissoned.”

“Yess,” Rkah agreed dryly. “I feel sso very lucky right now. You said that lasst sun as well.” 

“Hm hm, thosse weren’t poissoned either, desspite their awful tasste,” the older man joked softly, intentionally misinterpreting his words. 

The Tia looked like he might correct him for a moment, but then let out a breath and chuckled. “I still don’t think those nuts were edible, but at leasst we haven’t died yet. And I haven’t ssoiled mysself yet either.” 

“Oh, there’ss still time for that, don’t you worry,” Khua told him with a grin as he pulled out another thick thorn, and they both winced. Rkah in pain, and he in empathy. He sniffed at the scratches and small wounds once he was done, but he smelled nothing strange amidst the copper of blood. “Come, we really are almosst there this time. It’ss strange coming from thiss direction.”

It took another three bells before they noticed a warm scent in the air that hadn’t been there before. Both men stopped and breathed it in, remembering it from cycles past. Nostalgic memories awoke with it, bringing tears into their eyes. They followed it to an ancient-looking tree with silver, golden, and crystal baubles in its branches that chimed softly. They were finally there. 

Khua let his fingers glide over dark bark, while Rkah felt mesmerised by the song of the chimes. It was like he was listening to a conversation just out of earshot. Close enough to know that words were being exchanged, but too far away to know their meaning. He was still captivated by it when the Nunh started to fill a small hollow in the large tree  with herbs and spices, then set it to flame, letting their fragrance mix with that of the tree.

Rkah’s heart was pounding in his chest as nerves suddenly threatened to overwhelm him, but a steadying hand from Khua calmed him again. Now all they had left to do was wait. 

[e-jaegerenthusiast]

U&I; bully!megumi

warnings/tw; smut, orgasm denial, oral (both f and m receiving), unprotected sex, cockwarming, slight degrading, overstimulation, squirting, slapping, creampie, stomach bulge, slight blood, fluff towards the end (sheesh that’s a lot💀)

(all characters are of age)

bully characters event w/ @angedelouvre <3

summary; you always tried to understand him, what you didn’t know was that he was obsessed with you, not knowing how to show his love.

w.c; 5.0k

(based on the song U&I by the neighbourhood)

there were many occasions where people would call you naive. your small group of friends, your parents, even strangers of all sorts. they called you naive because they knew you had a choice.

they knew you could just report him to your teachers, school council or, principal even. they knew you were holding back. many times you felt shame, embarrassment, sheer humiliation. the venom in his voice would tug at your heartstrings and threaten to poison you. but you knew you were already poisened.

you asked yourself the reason to being quite. especially the times when he would hurt your feelings to the point you would think of reporting him. it would be a thought shimmering around your head, circling until you felt dizzy to the brim, tears threatening to spill. but you wouldn’t cry. you knew you were stronger than that, you knew you could handle it. you had enough practice thanks to your family anyway.

your problem was that, you were too understanding.

too empathic. your heart felt bad for the boy. you had done your research on him. knew that his mother was dead. knew that she probably died due to the not-so obvious criminal acts of his dad.

his dad was threatening. you only saw him once or twice at school, on rare occasions it was that he would drop his son off with his black heavy-duty ram. as if he couldn’t get any more intimidating, he had a scar across his lips, frown on his face, bored look in his eyes, thick muscles and veins gripping the steering wheel.

your eyes would dart to megumi, as he would get out the car, closing the door with force you knew wasn’t needed. the noise echoing through your ears as his dad would reciprocate with the sound of the heavy engine speeding off. your lips would form a thin line, thinking if that’s the tension between them without any words, what hell was it at home?

would they scream and shout at eachother? break things? would his introvert and brooding sister get caught up between the two hot-headed men? would they not even talk? as deadly silence fills the whole house?

you would be brought out of your thoughts and snapped back to reality as fushiguro would walk past you, light scoff leaving his velvet lips. looking at you with a frown as if you were below him. as if you were ought to be ashamed for staring at him. as if you didn’t have permission to. the threatening look in his dark blue eyes would raise the beats of your heart, yet you wouldn’t look away. you knew you would pay for it later anyway.

you would watch as he walked away, your eyes darting to his hair. noticing how it wasn’t styled and spiky today as it is normally. his hair was almost messy, as if he wasn’t bothered to do anything with it. a few strands covered his forhead, making him look almost.. soft. you internally laughed at yourself for ever associating that word with the boy.

you would zone out all day in your classes, thinking of all the possibilities. thinking of what life fushiguro had to live at home. trying to understand why he would act the way he did. why he felt the need to bully you, no. you hated that word. you hated what it implied. you would like to believe he would only pick on you. maybe you were in denial. that’s what everybody would tell you. even your brain, telling you that you like to be his punching bag.

so what if he had issues at home? so what if he had self-issues and most definitely daddy issues? that would be no reason to hurt you. a girl. no, that would be no reason to hurt anyone. that’s what the rational parts of your brain would tell you. the other parts, the more naive and dumb parts, would tell you you want to help him somehow. even if he got some sort of relief by hurting you. you would want to help him.

you didn’t know why you would sacrifice your mental and emotional well being for a boy like him. but something pulled you in. he was like a damn magnet. a negative one. and you were the positive. that’s all you would think about sitting in physics class. but the negative and positive should attract eachother. then why were you the only would attracted? were you?

your thoughts were interrupted by the ringing sound of the bell, everyone picking up their backpacks and leaving. you would always be last to leave the classroom, sometimes staring too hard out the window, getting lost in your thoughts. there was something peaceful about an empty classroom, a place that was always constantly filled with noise and people, now quite.

you sighed as you picked up your bag and slowly started making your way out the classroom, you had a free period now, which you would usually go and have lunch with your friends in. however today you were feeling nauseous, not really in the mood to chew or even swallow anything.

as you opened the class door, making your way to the empty halls, you felt a strong pair of hands grab on to your shoulders, making you flinch. they pushed you back into the classroom in a flash, you were now pushed up against the classroom wall, door closing shut by itself. as you tried to calm your breathing and opened your eyes, you saw the familiar dark blue ones staring down at you with a glint of madness swimming in them. you wish you could swim in them.

your heart started beating faster. how did he know you took this class? you looked down at his hands on your upper arms, hissing as you looked up at him with your eyebrows furrowed, as if you wanted to tell him it hurt with your eyes. not wanting to talk. he slightly loosened his grip on your arms. but still keeping his big hands on you. as if to remind you, to make you aware of his intimidating presence.

he spoke through his teeth, with the same venom in his voice as always, “what the fuck were you doing watching me this morning?” he searched your eyes for an answer, yet the only thing he saw was his own so called hate in them.

you batted your eyelashes slowly, “I- huh?”

his grip tightened again in a mere second, pushing you into the wall as you winced, your back hitting against the hard wall. “don’t fucking bullshit me, l/n. you come to school from the other side, what the fuck were you doing on the east side where I get off?” 

you closed your eyes and tried to control your breathing. not wanting to break beneath his firm touch and voice. you spoke in a low voice as you looked down, “..I was— waiting for a friend that gets off there.”

you felt both his hands let go of you, dropping by his sides. you felt his fingers on your chin, making you flinch visibly, his brows furrowing at you as he made you look up to his eyes.

your eyes darted all around his face, his cheeks looked so soft, his lips pressed together as his face was dangerously close to yours. you finally looked up to his eyes, they were as if searching for something within yours, you bit on your lower lip, his hand left your chin. muttering “liar.” before he swiftly got out, leaving you a mental mess in the empty classroom.

•••••••••••••••••••••

the day passed quite slowly, it seemed like every hour was adding a new weight on your head. you picked up your bag and left your last class, gaze on the floor as you thought about a certain raven-headed asshole.

you weren’t feeling like going home, you’d usually go home after the sun sets, listening to music and biking around. your parents could care less anyway, busy with their own bickering. you walked to the school parking lot, trying to get to your bike.

a tall figure caught your attention as he was leaning against a tree, the shadow of the big willow covering his face. your eyes darted to the willow tree, the cool breeze making the leaves swish from side to side. willows, hope. belonging. safety.

you walked towards the tree, the bike stands being right next to it. you glanced at the boy again, almost gasping as your eyes locked with the same blue ones from earlier today. he walked towards you, hint of a smirk on his face. you swiftly tried to untie your bike and leave. not wanting any more conflict, you thought you couldn’t take it.

he grabbed on to your arm with a tight grip, your eyes shooting daggers at him, “let me go.” for once, venom filled your voice. he gave you the most shit-eating grin, “I wanna talk to you, bunny.” you tolled your eyes at the unfamiliar nickname.

you felt rather bold today, the blood in your veins rushing to your ears as you raised your voice, “let me fucking go. go and release your daddy issues somewhere else, fushiguro.”

he raise his brows, “the sweet innocent girl is swearing at me? insulting me? you seem to forget who you’re talking to, sweetie.” his grip on your arm tightened as he pulled you away from your bike before you could undo the restrains. he started pulling you towards the parking lot.

your legs walking for you at this point, you dumbfoundedly followed him as he kept tugging on your arm. almost throwing you when he let go, his voice filled with anger, “get in.” he said as he got into a black hellcat charger parked in the parking lot.

you stood there, the rational part of your brain practically yelling at you to not get in a car with your bully. but your legs were already walking for you before you could listen to your own warnings.

the smell of cedarwood and musk hit your nose as you sat down in the leather seats next to him. looking out the window, you huffed. crossing your arms as the car started with a roar, “where are we going?”

he glanced at you from the side of his eyes, “shut your smart little mouth.” this time, his voice wasn’t filled with the usual venom, it had a hint of..playfulness?

you dropped your hands in your lap and fidgeted with them, tapping one of your legs against the floor of the car slowly as he pulled out of the parking lot snd onto the street. that didn’t go unnoticed by fushiguro, his eyes darting to your fingers and your bumping leg, piecing together that you were indeed nervous.

he spoke in a low, menacing voice, “I’m not gonna kill you, don’t worry.” you looked at him with this, letting out a dry chuckle, “oh! like that makes it sound less-creepy!”

he didn’t say anything as he smirked and sped up. the car hit a speed bump, his arm shot to you, holding it infront of your form as to shield you like a seatbelt, his bicep pressing into your chest. he removed his arm after a few seconds as fast as he had brought it. your cheeks grew red, putting on your seatbelt, not wanting that to happen again. or did you?

he turned on the car’s radio, and put on a song with a few swipes of his slender fingers on his phone. the screen lighting up and reading “Softcore—The neighbourhood”. your scoff at the universe being hidden as he raised the volume and sped up again.

the ride to wherever he was going was pretty long, at some point your eyes drooping from the tiredness of the school day, but immediately opening back up as you didn’t trust the boy enough to be unconscious around him.

after a few minutes, you arrived at lookout. he got out the car, and sat down on the hood. you sighed, and got out after him. the view of the city was breathtaking, the sun hiding under the clouds, a few minutes away from setting down completely. the sky a mix of purple, pink, and orange.

you stood by the car door, watching the view as he glanced at you, a ghost of a smile at his lips.

you took slow steps towards him, standing next to the hood of the car yet not sitting down beside him. you moved your eyes from the view and to his face, the sunset had painted his face a faint orange, the dark blue of his eyes almost looking brown. you sighed for what seemed to be the umpteenth time of the evening, “why did you bring me here, fushiguro?”

he turned his head to you, motioning for you to sit down next to him. you did. but he stood, moving to stand infront of you, his face being much higher than yours than it usually is. his glanced moved between your lips and you eyes, “I fucking hate you, angel.”

before you could react, he leaned down swiftly, catching your lips in his, putting one palm on the hood of the car next to your thigh and placing the other on your cheek, holding you as his soft lips pressed against yours. his cool cedarwood cologne filling your nose as it pressed against his.

you suddenly came to your senses, hitting his chest with both your hands, looking up at his now lust-filled blue orbs. he took your wrists and placed both your hands around his neck as he leaned into you again, this time you felt his tongue against your lips, begging to enter. you refused, that was until his hands went to palm your ass on the car, making you gasp as he slid his tongue into your mouth.

your tongue slowly moved against his, yet he still dominated your mouth. your hands starting to move on him, one going to grip his bicep and the other intertwining in his soft hair, you were so thankful his hair was soft today for whatever reason. no hint of any of the excessive gel he uses to hold up his spikes. as your hand easily glided through his raven locks, he grunted into your mouth, moving closer to you, opening you thighs with his hands so he could stand in between them.

you pulled away, your lungs not the only thing threatening to combust. a string of saliva connected you both until his ragged sighs and breaths broke it. your looked up at him, your eyes swiftly switching between each of his eyes. he looked down at you and blinked slowly, suddenly pulling you flush against his chest, his arms tightly wrapped around your figure, face burried in your neck.

you slowly wrapped your arms around his waist, snuffling against his chest as it smelt heavenly. he groaned. you pulled back, looking up at him with a confused look, until he motioned his head downwards between the both of you. only then you realized something hard poking at your thigh. your face grew red as you burried you head in his chest again, feeling a deep chuckle come from it. he spoke in a deep, throaty voice against the shell of your ear, making you shiver, “are you a virgin?”

you moved away from his chest, looking up at his dark eyes, the sun was almost completely behind the horizon now. you slowly shaked your head, blushing. he smirked, “you naughty little thing.”

before you could say anything else, he picked you up by your ass, your hands going to tighten around his neck and your legs around his waist. you could hear one of the car doors open as your buried your face into his neck, smelling his cologne, something you clearly couldn’t get enough of.

he sat you down on the edge of the backseat, the car door still open as he knelt down in between it, looking up at you with soft eyes. you felt a lump in your throat as you started to get anxious. he realized it too, his burrows furrowing as he put his hands on your kness, his thumbs rubbing circles on your thighs. “what’s wrong, baby?”

your heart threatened to convulse at the nickname, sucking in a breath before you slowly spoke, “are..are you going to..use me? and- and then—“

he cut you off as he squeezed your thigh with one hand, and put his other palm on your cheek. “don’t say that..please.”

you didn’t know if he was genuine or not, his gaze holding an unreadable expression. but you fell for him anyway. you knew you were going to be at his mercy and do whatever he asks of you.

his eyes searching for something in yours, you nodded your head against his palm. at that, he gripped your legs and pulled you forward even more, your ass just barely on the seat of the car. his slender hands trailed up your thighs, long fingers resting on the waistline of your pants. your breaths were messy and uncollected as he slowly slid your pants down to your ankles, his gaze landing on your slightly damp underwear.

he licked his lips. the action being too intriguing for you, you leaned down, grabbing a hold of the back of his soft black hair as you smashed your lips against his. at first, he was surprised and didn’t move, then he started meeting your hungry open-mouthed kisses to his lips, tongues fighting like a tug of war.

he eventually pulled away, a slight smirk on his face “such a needy little slut, hm?”

you bite your lip as he leaves wet kisses on your lower thighs, inching closer to where you needed him most slowy. he looks up at you, and oh lord you could probably cum on the spot from only his gaze. you bite your lip harder. with the action, he let out a deep growl, biting harshly on your thigh, sure to leave a mark. he soothed it with his tongue and he spoke, mouth coming of your skin with a ‘pop’, “don’t you dare hold back your moans,” he pressed more wet kisses to your thighs, occasionally sucking and nibbling on the soft skin. “been wanting to hear em’ for so long, don’t hold back baby.”

little pants and sighs started leaving your mouth, your hips slightly bucking, trying to find some friction with the edge of the leather seat beneath you. fushiguro noticed, of course. his hands came to grip your hips, holding you down firmly as he tutted. “don’t be bad now. patience, angel.” you whined at his words, a low chuckle leaving him as his hands now gripped the waistband of your underwear, slowly pulling it down.

you pressed your thighs together, nervousness creeping up your veins. he looks up at you with his dark blue eyes which looked black as the night before you. “c’mon now, lemme see that pretty pussy, yeah?”

you hesitated. he didn’t, gripping your thighs tightly as he pried your legs open. glistening cunt bare to his eyes now. he licked his lips, something you could get used to.

he pressed soft kisses on your inner thighs as he moved closer, hot breath fanning over you cunt. you clenched around nothings as he pressed a soft kiss on your clit, you bit your lip again.

a sudden sharp sting on your clit from his teeth made you scream, looking down at him as he hummed around your lips, gaze never leaving yours. you knew what he meant. he wanted you to be more vocal.

his tongue flicked around your sensitive clit, making you squirm beneath him as you started letting out quite moans, spurring him on to him against your clit as he attacked you with his tongue. his hums would spur you on to moan more, making him hum more. it was a whole cycle of the two of you getting lost in eachother’s sounds and pleasures.

as soon as your moans turned into whines and your thighs began to slightly shake against his hold, he pulled away, your wetness covering his chin and his lips. making him practically glow in the darkness surrounding you both. you whined, the knot in your stomach slipping from you and getting lost in his gaze.

he licks all around his lips, “you’re not cumming unless it’s ‘round my cock, angel.” his gruff voice making you shiver. with that, he stood up, making you lay back in the car seats. he hovered over you, one of his legs still out of the car, as his other leg was in between yours. he brought his lips down to yours, tongues instantly linking together as he hummed in your mouth. you could taste yourself on his tongue, your hands went to his neck and hair, slightly tugging on the black locks.

with a firm grip on his hair, you brought your other hand to his shoulder, pushing him down to sit, his back against the closed door of the car, one of his long legs stretched out on the seat and the other rested in a normal seating position on the floor of the car.

he furrowed his brows at your boldness, lips giving you a soft, lust-dazed smile. you put your hands in his thighs, slightly tugging at his pants. he lifted his hips to take off both his pants and underwear with a chuckle. you wanted to hear that sound forever.

the whole time you looked at his face, kind of intimidated to look down, as he finished and looked at you, he raised a brow, “It won’t bite y’know.”

you slowly looked down, your eyes widening at his length. his cock was pretty. he looked long, very long— maybe more than 7’. the head of his cock was flushed a pretty dark pink, slightly darker than the rest of his length. precum leaking down his dick from the tip.

the sound of another heavenly chuckle of his brought you out of your daze, he waited patiently for you. not trying to push you. was this the fushiguro you really knew? how was he being so soft? so kind almost?

you moved your hand towards him, gripping his length as he hissed. you pumped him slowly, his eyebrows furrowing and mouth hanging open as he let out ragged breaths and threw his head back.

you could easily say he looked the prettiest right now. so you did, “it’s so pretty.”

his dark eyes moved from the ceiling to you, raising a brow as he tried to smirk, you hand tightening around him made him wince instead.

“p-pretty?” he said in a shaky voice, almost making you chuckle. you smiled and nodded your head. if you weren’t in pure ecstatic bliss right now, you would believe fushiguro blushed at your words.

you slowly leaned down to his cock, he held his breath as your soft lips pressed a kiss to his tip. you circled your tongue around his head, his thighs slightly shaking at the action. soft pants leaving his plum lips.

you slowly took him in your mouth, less than half of it barely fitting before it hit the back of your throat. you looked up at him, he was biting his lips, looking down at you. you disconnect from his cock with a ‘pop’, a few strings of saliva around your lips as you licked them, “wanna hear you too.” you said softly, he nodded swiftly, wanting you to continue your previous actions.

you licked a strip all the way on the prominent vein showing at the side of his length. he winced in pleasure, moaning as you took him in your mouth again, bobbing your head up and down in a slow pace.

he gave out a slow whine, his hand moving to your shoulder, pulling you back from his now saliva-covered cock. his face scrunched as he took deep breaths, “i’m c-close, don’t wanna cum in your mouth.” you looked at him dumbfounded, he gave out a low chuckle, “c’mere.” he shifted on the car seat, sitting down completely and pulling you into his lap.

he held your chin, bringing your lips down to his, you melted into him, letting him dominate your mouth with his tongue. you gasped and moaned as you felt him shift, his cock sitting right at your entrance. he looked up at you, holding your hips, “gonna put it in slowly, kay?” his velvet voice making you shiver, you nodded. feeling his tip between your folds, you moaned, hands tightening on his broad shoulders.

he slowly pushed you down onto him, filling you to the brim. you screamed from the stretch, your eyes squeezing shut as he shushed you and drew small circles on your hips with his thumb. you opened your eyes, lids heavy on lust, your teeth pressed down so hard on your lower lip it drew blood. he leaned forward, licking the blood of your lips, then pressing his lips softly to yours.

you made out as his cock still sat in you, unmoving. you could feel him twitch against your walls as you bit on his lip while pulling it. he looked down between you, “fuuuuck,” you looked to where his gaze was, slightly confused. you saw what he was gawking it, his long cock made a bulge in your stomach, you clenched around him involuntarily, making him hiss as he spoke through his teeth, “if you clench around me one more time i’m going to cum without having fucked you.” there was venom in his voice, but it was delicious, you wanted it. you were insatiable.

you clenched around him, this time on command. he groaned as he pressed down on the bulge his cock made on your stomach with his slender fingers. you felt warm liquid fill you up, you moaned, as he started fucking into you, the sound of skin slapping filling the car.

you could feel his cum from a few seconds prior leak onto his thighs as he kept fucking into you, with a bruising pace. you screamed as his hand landed a harsh slap on your ass, kneading it with his palm to soothe the pain, “fuck—fuck, fuck i told you i’d cum, now you’re gonna have to take it.” you clenched around him with his words, cumming around him with a loud whine as he slapped your ass again.

his movements didn’t falter for a second. fucking you through your orgasm and after it, your hands pushing away at his chest pathetically, pulling a menacing chuckle from him as he held your arms as you shook.

you had barely came down from your high when you felt him slap you other ass cheek, thrusting into you harder than before if that was even possible, his balls slapping your ass with each movement, your thighs shaking. “f-fushiguro—“, he grunted, “megumi. say my name.” you shivered, “m-megumi!!” a chant of blabbers leaving your mouth as he fucked you dumb. “that’s right angel.”

he buried his head into your neck, you could feel his hot breaths on the shell of your ear, his movements slowing down, or so you thought. he started a different pace, instead of fast thrusts, he gave you hard ones, pulling out of your ruined cunt slowly and thrusting back in harshly after a few seconds.

both his palms went to your ass, holding your cheeks to move you with them, he spoke into your ear with a thrust of his hips, “i want you to know,” another hard thrust, making you scream, he spoke with a deep voice, “i need you to be,” another thrust, he groaned as you clenched around him, trying to suppress your moans so you could hear him. “i need you to be—fuck-argh-someone for me in my life,” you wrapped your hands around his head, his mouth leaving sloppy kisses on your neck as he thrusted again, “i can’t— i can’t let you g-go.”

your hand tugged on his hair, and that was his breaking point, cumming into you again as he thrusted, his thumb going to rub on your clit, making you cum with a scream as you tightened around him. your whole body shaked as he held you close, your pussy gushed from the overstimulation, your fluids covering his abs in a glistening sight.

you stood like that for a while, embracing eachother as your bodies cooled down. after a few seconds, he helped you get off of him, cleaning the both of you with a few tissues as he handed you your clothes.

you didn’t know what you were now, you just knew you were happy. you were happy when you screamed out the window of his car, his hand resting on your upper thigh as you urged him to shout at the empty road too.

you were happy when he got you both food, eating together as you laughed and talked. you were happy because you felt safe.

safe to just talk for hours with him about your fears and the things you’re ashamed of.. hours of pure vulnerability with him, and when you would look up, expecting the worst. you would feel his lips against yours.

only one thing bugged and ate away at your head when he dropped you off at your house, making you still your hands on the doorbell,

he never apologized.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

© all content belongs to e-jaegerenthusiast, do not repost or copy any of my work

aaaaaa i hope you guys enjoyed this one <3

it took me a long time to write phew~ my first actual fic posted~

part 2

xxxx

[ahatintimepieces]

Fabric Hearts

Remember the first part of that build-a-bear au I wrote for @smieska-draws? It’s back! But now the au name makes sense! Imagine!

Luka, known as the Snatcher to most of the mall locals, runs the Kraft-a-Kid while his daughter, Hattie, runs around with her friends. There’s definitely nothing suspicious about Luka. The rumors that he snatches the souls of children and stuffs them into the dolls are completely unfounded. Probably. Most likely. Don’t worry about it, I’m sure it’s fine.

This is, of course, another au that Smieska and I both developed and like to swap ideas for SO send her your love and adulation because I couldn’t have written this without her ;o; <333 Here’s the link to the piece she did for first part if you haven’t seen it yet (which u should because it’s fabulous and incredible). Without further ado, here it is!

Words: 4,131

The door squeaked open as Luka recorded the number of tiny, elastic collars with bright bells in the back.

“Dimitri can’t make it today,” he warned without looking up from his clipboard. His golden gaze flickered up towards the boxes filled with cotton stuffing and he quickly counted them as footsteps approached. “If you get a sudden influx of customers, come grab me.”

“It’s me, Dad,” Hattie’s voice came from right beside him.

“Did I stutter?” He glanced down without missing a beat. She gave him a deadpan stare as he grinned. His sharp canines glinted in the unnaturally bright florescent lights. “Come on, kiddo. How about you help me with my business endeavors instead of frittering away your summer romping around the mall?”

She readjusted the brim of the top hat she made from her millinery lessons at the fabric store. Why his child fixated on hat-making out of everything she could have taken an interest in was beyond him but even he had to admit her royal purple top hat was well crafted.

“I’m going with Belle and the others to get lunch at the food court,” she said, ignoring his jesting. “Can I have money?”

“You know if you had a job you wouldn’t need to be asking me,” he lamented dramatically before wedging the clipboard between his arm and side. He reached for his wallet in the back pocket of his slacks.

“I’m not even twelve.” She blinked up at him with large blue eyes. “There are child labor laws.”

“Excellent.” He nodded, opening his wallet. “Don’t let anyone in the mall convince you otherwise. But,” he slipped out a bill and gave her a pointed look, “if you accept this, you have to do me a favor.”

“I already cleaned the bathrooms last weekend,” she whined.

His grin widened.

“Tough luck, kiddo.” He twisted the bill in the air, watching her nose scrunch as she seriously weighed her options. After a second of letting her think that she was going to have to do her least favorite chore, he extended the bill towards her. “Just bring me back a coffee and I’ll consider us even.”

Relief instantly flooded her features as she took the bill.

“I can do that! Your usual?” She headed towards the door.

“That’ll work,” he said, tucking away his wallet and grabbing the clipboard again.

“Thanks, Dad!” she chirped before moving to open the door.

Just as she reached for it, the door swung open, and she stumbled back. Luka immediately dropped the clipboard and slipped behind her with the speed of shadows dodging the light. She smacked into his legs, and he placed a steadying hand on her shoulder as Alex walked in with wide eyes.

“I’m so sorry, kid! I didn’t see you there.” Alex winced, looking from Hattie to Luka’s hard glare.

“I’m fine!” Hattie promised, giving a bright smile until she placed her hand over Luka’s fingers. She jolted and twisted around. “Dad, are you okay? You’re really warm.”

“It is hot in here.” Alex tugged at their collar, wincing.

“The thermostat dial was probably nudged,” Luka dismissed, pulling away and stooping to grab the clipboard. “I’ll take a look.”

“Should I get you water?” Hattie asked.

“I have water. Now go have fun.” He shooed her towards the door. “The sooner you leave the sooner you can run my errand.”

Hattie hesitated but when he returned to his task of recording inventory, he heard her retreating footsteps.

“Sorry,” Alex muttered as they crossed over to the table for the employees. They dropped their backpack before grabbing the light purple apron with their nametag.

“Let’s just be careful with how forcefully we open doors, hm? I don’t want to deal with any workplace liability cases. They’re a pain.” Luka shot the teen a toothy grin. Glancing back down to the clipboard, he added in a more monotone cadence, “Anyway, Dimitri can’t come today, so once Ember leaves, it’ll just be you and me for the rest of the day. If it gets too crowded on the floor and I’m not around, come find me.”

“Right.” They nodded firmly. While wiping back their bangs and smearing the beads of sweat on their brow, they hurried out. Once the door closed behind them and Luka was alone, he let out a sigh.

The flame that had flared when Hattie nearly got hit crackled noisily in his otherwise empty chest. Luka placed one of his pale hands over the flame and counted out the seconds between metered inhales and exhales. The snap and pop of embers faded and when he glanced towards the thermostat, the temperature in the room lowered back to a comfortable range.

Not that he was bothered by the heat, but he didn’t need his employees passing out.

Ember’s shift ended as he got to counting the unstuffed plush shells. As she hung her apron over the hook, she informed him that two separate groups had just entered the store. Luka nodded, finishing his current count before getting ready to help Alex on the floor.

He brushed back his long, spiky hair into a ponytail. Stray strands the color of soot fluttered against his cheek, and he tucked them behind his ear.

They reflected a warm violet when they caught the light.

With his hair as contained as he could manage, he grabbed his own amethyst apron with the Kraft-a-Kid’s signature logo; a stylized baby goat and parent goat waving a friendly greeting. After draping it over his black suit and making sure it didn’t displace his dark purple tie, he tied the apron with nimble fingers, clawed at the tips. He double-checked that the pocket had extra thread and a compact sewing kit before he clipped on his name tag and headed out into the workshop.

Alex snapped their head up from one of the stuffing stations, looking relieved when they spotted Luka rounding the counter. Alex returned their full attention to the small girl and her mother while Luka smiled at the two teens with a younger child hovering by the bins of unstuffed shells by the entrance.

While he didn’t know them personally, he recognized Brooke and her younger sister Hali, who worked (or in Hali’s case just hovered around in the back when not at daycare) at their uncle’s travel agency, and then Makoto, who worked at the jewelry store. Judging from their uniforms, the teens were probably using their breaks to accompany Hali. Since he often heard good things about their work ethic and Hali’s sweet nature from Mari, he assumed he had an easy session ahead. He waved them over.

Brooke and Makoto shared a nervous look while Hali bounded over with a bright smile.

“Why, hello there!” Luka pasted on his most vibrant customer service smile as he lowered onto the seat by the stuffing station. Cotton and soft fibers filled the glass tank decorated to look like hearty trees and branches climbed around the edges. The machine itself matched the lilac walls and brown and bronze gears that decorated them. The bins and shelves that held the merchandise throughout the store were all structured to look like spools of golden thread.

Holding an unstuffed goat with dark brown fuzz and silver horns, Hali shyly smiled up at Luka as Brooke and Makoto slowly joined.

“I see you’ve picked your new friend!” Luka held out his hands and Hali gingerly lowered the flat goat into his palms. “Before we bring them to life, how stuffed do you want them to be?”

“Um?” Hali tilted her head with a blank expression.

“Do you want them to be firm or squishy?” Luka clarified, fitting the goat around the nozzle and getting his foot ready over the pedal.

“Fiwm, pwease!” Hali declared in a cutesy voice.

“Excellent choice!” Luka set to work, pumping the pedal as he filled out the head of the goat plush. The machine roared to life, blowing air and fluff with the force of a vacuum. Though, his ears perked when he caught Brooke and Makoto in an intense discussion as they remained a couple steps back. What he couldn’t hear over the machine, he pieced together easily enough.

He knew the rumors and could guess what was on their mind when they mentioned the Snatcher and stolen souls.

Luka smirked as he pulled his foot from the pedal and the machine hushed.

“Now it’s time for my favorite part.” He beamed, pulling off the firmly stuffed goat and then reaching for a bucket full of small felt hearts. “The soul ceremony! Go ahead and pick the heart that most resonates with you.”

“If it’s just a heart, why is it called a soul ceremony?” Brooke asked, her voice quivering as she pressed closer to Makoto.

Hali, meanwhile, was completely enraptured with picking out the right fabric heart.

“Hearts, souls, same thing, really,” Luka soothed with a toothy grin, giving the teens a considering look.

Makoto’s gaze flickered down to his fangs. She lifted her chin, trying to project an air of confidence. But her furrowed brows wavered.

“Souws awe heawts?” Hali gasped, looking up with awe.

“Absolutely!” Luka kept his voice cheerful, gesturing to the bucket. “It’s what gives your new friend life! I imagine without one, they would feel pretty empty and hollow.” Keeping his chin tilted down, he lifted his eyes towards the teens and lowered his voice just a touch. “Wouldn’t you feel pretty soulless without a heart?”

The two stiffened.

“Pwobabwy!” Hali chirped, completely unaware of their increasing unease. She dug around the hearts and pursed her lips. “How do woo know which heawt is the best?”

“That’s up to you!” Luka bounced effortlessly back into an upbeat cadence. He pinched a heart with a checkerboard pattern in red and white. “The nice thing about these hearts is that they’re blank slates. They’ll be filled with whatever you put into them. But don’t put in too much!” he added with a chuckle. “Wouldn’t want your new friend to be more you than you!”

Brooke squeaked in fright and his grin stretched.

“I wiwl take this one, then!” Hali held up a solid red heart.

“Great! Hold on to it, now.” Luka placed the tub back down. “First, why don’t you rub the heart on your hair so your little buddy will always have soft fur!”

Hali beamed at that and rubbed the fabric heart on her hair. When she pulled it back down, some of the blond strands followed the heart while the strands too far away stuck up from the lingering static.

“Well done! Now, rub it against your funny bone so your friend has a sense of humor.” Luka tapped his elbow when Hali crinkled her nose for a moment. Her eyes lit up in understanding and once the heart was granted good humor, Luka added, “and why don’t you strike a superhero pose, so that your pal will hold courage.”

Hali giggled as she placed her hands on her hips and preened.

“Fantastic. Lastly, I want you to rub the heart between your palms!” Luka motioned for her to mimic him as he demonstrated. “Now, when it’s nice and warm, give it a clap to start its heartbeat!”

The clap resounded through the workshop and the teens jolted behind her.

“That should do it,” Luka praised, holding out his palm. Hali handed the heart over, and he slipped it into the goat, tucking it snuggly away in the cotton and fluff.

He then set to filling out the rest of the plush. Once it was stiff and sturdy, he handed it to her, asking if she was content with it. When he received an enthusiastic nod, he took it back and sealed the hole. He snipped the extra thread with the scissors in his apron and then passed the goat back to Hali.

“Here’s your new friend! Be sure to visit our shop in the back! We have plenty of accessories and outfits for the newest member of your family,” Luka recited the same sales pitch as always. “Once you’re ready, head over to an open kiosk so you can fill out the adoption papers. If you need any help, Alex or I will be overjoyed to assist.”

“Thank woo!” Hali hurried over to the accessories, hugging the goat to her chest.

Luka clasped his hands and turned to the teens. When his gaze flickered to the floppy hooded doll in Makoto’s arms, her embrace tightened.

“Ready?” He motioned for her to hand it over so that he could stuff it.

She looked to Brooke, who shrugged with uncertainty. Makoto stepped forward.  

Keeping his tone light, he went through the same script as always. He asked if she wanted the doll to be firm or squishy and, in an effort to loosen her up a bit, offered to add any fun sound boxes or scents to the plush. She remained on edge until he asked about the nametag on her uniform as the machine roared to life again. She explained how her boss liked to give everyone themed nicknames and she was saddled with “Makoneko.” When he asked if she appreciated the nickname, she pointedly rolled her eyes as he removed his foot from the machine pedal again. Her shoulders relaxed when he chuckled.

“Your turn to pick a heart,” Luka twittered in an overly cheerful voice as he held out the bucket.

“Do I have to do the ceremony?” Makoto hesitated, plucking the first heart she saw. Rather than scared, her bored expression mirrored that of many teens who wanted to skip the step.

Perfect.

“I wouldn’t recommend it.” He shrugged casually. “What is a heart without a heartbeat? A soul without a person behind the personality?”

“What?” She faltered, shoulders slowly stiffening again as Brooke’s eyes widened.

“I only mean it’ll be a sorry existence for this little friend.” Luka waved the stubby hands of the purple plush toy. “And you get out what you put in.” Her brows dipped in slight confusion, and he smirked. “You have to at least start its heartbeat. You don’t want to bring a ghost home, do you?”  

“Just do the ceremony!” Brooke hissed through clenched teeth.

“F-fine,” Makoto said, slowly lifting the heart to her long black locks. “So, hair for soft fur?”

“Does it look like this one has fur?” Luka gestured to the doll with the yellow spiral in its hood. He scoffed, turning up his nose. “Of course not! No. First, why don’t you rub the heart against your belly so that it’s full of laughter.”

“I thought that was the elbow.” Makoto crinkled her nose. Though she rubbed the heart against her stomach, eager to get it over with.

“There is a difference between telling good jokes and laughing at them, kiddo,” Luka offered with a smirk. “Now, how about you jump up and down a few times? I’m sure your friend would love to share some of your energy.”

“What does that mean?” She jolted.

“Just that exercise keeps the heart healthy,” Luka said placidly.

Her eyes narrowed but she eventually gave a sluggish skip.  

“Then, rub it against your ear, so it will always listen.” He smiled brightly, being sure to bare his teeth. Once she complied, he clasped his hands together. “I’m sure you know what to do now! Warm it between your palms and then clap to start the heartbeat!”

She let out the breath that she had been holding, relieved it was finally over. She gave a small clap before passing the heart back. He slipped it into the doll.

“Any names in mind for your friend?” Luka prompted as his foot tapped the pedal.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled curtly, purposefully trying to let the whirling air in the stuffing machine drown out her answer.

“How’s this feel?” he asked a few seconds later when the machine hushed again. He pulled the doll from the nozzle and passed it back to her.

“Good.” She returned it after assessing the squishiness.

“If you haven’t got any names, I always thought these particular dolls looked like minions,” he prattled, closing the seam. When she didn’t respond, he continued lightly, “so Minion might be a good name.” He glanced up to meet her gaze and lowered his tone. “You did make sure it’ll listen. It’ll be an obedient little kiddo.”

Her breath hitched.

“Obedient to who?” she challenged, maintaining a fragile glare.

“All done!” Luka snapped upright after snipping the excess thread, pretending he hadn’t heard her question. “Welcome your friend into the world!”

Makoto accepted the doll, her gaze flickering between it and Luka with uncertainty.

“Same as always,” he droned in his peppy, customer service voice. “Browse to your contentment. My daughter recommends the plush purple cherries. You want to keep your buddy happy and fed! Make sure to finalize the adoption and meet Alex or I by the counter.” He glanced over to find the other young girl with her mother already at the cash register. “Looks like it’ll be Alex!”

Makoto nodded numbly as Brooke stepped forward and looped her arm through hers, rescuing Makoto by tugging her away.

“One more thing,” Luka began, keeping his eyes on his clean-up routine. The teens’ footsteps paused as they hovered. Though his smile laced his voice, his enunciation was sharp. “I’m sure the Snatcher doesn’t have to tell you but be sure to treat your new friend as you would yourself. You put your soul into bringing them to life, after all.”

The teens gasped.

“Have a good day, kids.” Laughter laced his voice.

They rushed away as he chuckled.

While he finished cleaning up, Hattie returned with her friends. As soon as she spotted him behind the stuffing machine, she rushed across the tiles decorated to look vaguely like a forest path.

“Here’s your coffee,” she chirped, holding up the cup.

“Any plans for the rest of the day?” he asked, pushing to his feet and picking stray fluff from his apron. Once he was as clean as he was going to get, he accepted the drink. He held it towards his lips, pausing to quirk a brow at young Muriel and Timmy as they passed the stuffing machines to check out all the colorful outfits. Belle, meanwhile, joined Hattie with her azure bow bouncing in her dark coils.

“We’re going to head to the bookstore.” Hattie shrugged. “Tim’s friend is hosting a card game tournament.”

“Remember to be back by six,” he instructed. “Don’t go snacking after four or you’ll spoil your dinner.”

“I know, Dad,” she huffed dramatically.

“Also, Mom says hi, Mr. Kingsley,” Belle pipped in.

“Tell Mari I return the sentiment. Now get your friends to stop loitering.” He turned back towards Hattie and rose his voice so Timmy and Mu could hear. “They scare away customers.”

“Says the Snatcher,” Timmy whispered to Mu.

Luka covered his smirk with the coffee cup. His gaze shifted over Hattie and Belle and he watched as Makoto and Brooke fled the store at a brisk pace. Hali struggled to keep up, but she managed to meet his eyes and offered a cheerful wave.

“Fine,” Hattie sighed. “Come on, guys!”

“I need to stop by Mom’s before we head to the bookstore,” Belle mentioned as she and Hattie turned to leave. “I left my cards with my backpack.”

As the girls left, Luka turned to head back towards the counter, taking a sip of his coffee. He immediately winced.

“Ugh, tepid,” he grumbled as Timmy and Mu ran past, hurrying out to follow Hattie and Belle.

After making sure the kids all had their backs turned and Alex was busy with something on the counter, Luka summoned a gentle ember to his hand. While the flame harmlessly licked the cup, the coffee warmed inside until steam wafted from the hole in the lid. He took a tentative sip and swallowed the scalding liquid.

The flames in his chest crackled and popped, and the knots in his shoulders eased.

He snuffed out the ember in his hand as he lowered the cup. Mist trailed from the lid as the coffee maintained its heat.

“I think you scarred those two for life,” Alex muttered as Luka returned to the counter.

“Which two?” he asked, mind still on Hattie and her friends.

“Brooke and Makoto.” Alex glanced up, shaking their head with a scolding expression.

“I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary,” Luka said calmly. He leaned against the counter, sipping his coffee during his momentary break. “If those hooligans are letting their imaginations run wild, it’s not on my conscience.”

“Uh-huh.” Alex gave him an unimpressed look. “Also, I think we’re running low on the beach ball accessories.”

“I noticed,” Luka muttered, swirling his cup pensively. “Those aren’t particularly popular, and we are getting near the end of the season…”

While they discussed whether they needed to send out an order or if they would make it until the fall selection came out, Hattie rolled on the balls of her feet as she, Timmy, and Mu waited for Belle to return from her mom’s flower shop just across from Kraft-a-Kid. Hattie idly watched all the mallgoers, thoughts blank, but Timmy and Mu had their eyes locked on Kraft-a-Kid, thoughts whirling noisier than the stuffing machines.

“Okay, I’m ready!” Belle announced as she bounced out with her deck of cards.

“Hattie.” Timmy whirled around. “Your dad’s magic!”

“Timmy, he doesn’t steal souls, we’ve been over this,” Hattie whined, crossing her arms.

“If he doesn’t steal souls, then what’s with his coffee?” Mu snapped, nodding her head towards the display window where Luka could be seen leaning against the counter inside the workshop.

Hattie squinted, trying to figure out what was out of place with the steaming coffee cup. After a moment, she turned to Belle, who shrugged.

“It’s hot!” Mu gestured wildly, causing her blond mustache to bob with her movement. “Look at that steam!”

Hattie blinked in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Belle supplied dryly. “Because Hattie ordered it hot.”

“But he said it was tepid!” Timmy argued. “We heard him!”

“He probably thinks it is,” Hattie said, knitting her brows together. “He likes his coffee hot enough to burn his tastebuds.”

“You aren’t getting it!” Mu huffed. “It wasn’t steaming when he said it was cold!”

“Okay, but even if he somehow heated it up, that didn’t have anything to do with stealing souls,” Belle appeased.

“That’s what we mean!” Timmy urged. “If he can use one type of magic, he can use others!”

“I regret the day I told you about those rumors,” Hattie grumbled.

It didn’t matter as much when strangers said it, but instead of laughing with Hattie when she told them that people thought her dad was some kind of heartless, soul-snatching monster, Mu and Timmy had latched onto the conspiracy and ever since refused to let go. She couldn’t talk about new product plushies or designs around them anymore because they would just start a debate about which shell would best hold the souls of children.

“Look can we just get going?” She started walking in the direction of the bookstore and Belle matched her pace. Mu hurried to catch up as Timmy trailed behind, keeping a watchful eye on Kraft-a-Kid.

“Are you sure you haven’t seen anything weird?” Mu insisted. “Heard any screams of children he caught? Seen any dolls move in the corner of your eye?”

“You know he laughs like a cartoon villain?” Timmy added.

“The store is literally called Kraft-a-Kid!” Mu continued. “Open your eyes, Hattie!”

“Kid is just another word for baby goat!” Belle argued. “It’s cute!”

“We aren’t talking about this anymore!” Hattie snapped, tugging down on the brim of her hat. She turned away from them and focused on Belle. “So, what deck are you using? The one with fairy types? Or your cat themed one?”

“Both!” She grinned mischievously as she happily helped to redirect the conversation. “I combined them because I wanted to use all my favorites. How about you?”

“Going with the forest deck.” Hattie glanced up, where her deck was safely tucked away in the hidden compartment she stitched into the top hat.

Timmy and Mu huffed, letting their argument go as they pipped in with talking about their own decks. But it was only a matter of time before they started back on their theories about her dad’s supposed magic. Trying not to deflate too much, she kept her eyes forward. She swallowed her frustration and focused on the upcoming tournament.

Besides, even if her dad did have magic and only used it for heating up coffee, it hardly seemed something a heartless monster would do.

Right?

[hanibalistic]

#FBB2F3 | LEE FELIX.

genre | bittersweet, nostalgic fluff

word count | 2589

warning | none

tag | @fluffyskzclub​​

note | very easily could have been chan, but i wanted to write about lixie!!!

the paint on the brush splattered on the classroom floor after felix playfully nudged you with his feet. you groaned before regaining your balance, carefully hoisting yourself back on your kneeling position. your glare was paired by his light-hearted snickers.

"lix, either help me or go home," you said as you pointed the colorful end of the paintbrush at him threateningly. you pouted when he stood unfazed, smiling down at you with amusement. "i really need to finish this by tomorrow. everyone is counting on me!"

he took a step back when you returned your attention to the banner-sized canvas, adding more detail to the seemingly finished product. tilting his head, he admired the decorative artwork with both intrigue and cluelessness.

it was something his non-artistic self could have never done on his own, which was why the painting looked so grand to him, but he also couldn't understand why it wasn't finished yet when there was no more blank canvas left on the surface.

you obviously wanted to add more to the painting, but he couldn't see what there was to add that would make it less or more appealing. in the end, it would just look the same to him, so why couldn't you pack everything up so you two could finally go home?

looking up at the opened windows, felix sighed as he watched the orange sun slowly fade back into the mountains. he wanted to go home, but he had no plans to leave you alone at school at this hour, nor did he want you to walk home alone, so supposed he would have to stick with you and your endeavor for now.

"what do you need help with?" he asked as he took his hands out of his pockets and knelt next to you, accessing the painting with unease. "i might mess up."

"you're not touching the painting," you said as you reached over for the plastic color wheel and handed it to felix.

his eyes followed your hands—boxes of paint, a jar of dirty water, a paper of abandoned colors, and a spiky brush. after setting them around him, you reached for your bag on the chair nearby and pulled out your notebook from the thin gap of your heavy textbooks.

felix raised his brows when you leaned over to him, flipping the pages of your notebook before stopping at a messy page. he saw circles and circles of colors, lined up together in a way that looked like detailed instructions but also a disorganized brainstorm map. his gaze moved from the notebook to the color wheel, utterly clueless.

"do you see number three, eight, and twenty-five? mix those colors for me," you instructed, pointing briefly at the paper before dropping it before his knees and turning back to the painting. "make sure they look like the ones in the notebook but a little more vibrant!"

felix nodded as a soft, confused hum of an agreement left his lips. he gripped the paintbrush in his hand, his shaky eyes glancing at the colors on your notebook and the lines of acrylic paint.

a gentle fear shook upon his ground when he was shifting through the colors. he could not tell the difference between the first red paint and the seventh one, but they had different names so they must be two kinds of red. putting his shrunken hand next to his face, felix licked his lower lip with concentration, thinking that if he stared at the colors long enough they would appear different to his eyes.

they did not.

giving up, he glanced up at you in preparation to ask for your advice, but he stopped when he saw that you were putting your utmost attention to the painting. with softened eyes, he decided to bother you at a later time—

"uh, haha, no," you interrupted the trip down memory lane with a sharp chuckle, and you looked up at felix with a sneer. "that was not how it went."

felix tossed his much longer hair away from his face with shy laughter. his short ponytail bounced slightly and his side fringes framed his sharp face. shoving his hands further down the pockets of his coat, he jutted his lower lip out and shrugged, "that was how i remembered it though."

"then you have bad memories," you scoffed, "you kept bothering me about the colors that i ended up telling you to just step aside and wait for me."

"i was not bothering you!"

"yes, yes you were."

"i was–ack! i was being thorough!" he retorted, throwing his arm out and waving his finger at you. there was a flustered smile on his face; he was looking like he could remember everything but was purposefully making things up. your chest felt light seeing it.

"remember how you told me your entire class depended on you to win the class board contest? how, like, they will literally kill you if you mess up?" he exclaimed.

you furrowed your brows in exaggerated horror, placing a hand on your chest and leaning back slightly to further state your surprise. "i never said that!"

"you never?"

"no!"

"was it just me?" felix questioned himself with a scratch of his head, taking shallow breathes of thoughts as he turned away to look around the classroom he once studied in. taking notice of a familiar corner, he raised his hand and pointed at the broken end of the door. "oh, they painted over the wall jisung scrubbed on."

you looked over instinctively and pouted.

of course they would. jisung had written profanities on that corner, after all. you weren't sure why he had done it then, but you remembered watching him get dragged by the ear to the principal's office and grimacing when you met eyes with him. who would have thought he became such an introverted and well-behaved boy now?

"i'm sure they changed a lot of things around these years," you said quietly as you walked through the narrow rows of the wooden desks.

the words jisung left on the wall, the rack of art supplies hyunjin always kept on the top cabinet shelf where the homework was stored, seungmin's neat handwriting being the first thing everyone sees on the blackboard whenever they walk into the classroom, and felix's school jacket he always dumped near the locker for easier access.

they were all gone. the presence of your youth has been erased.

"it has been a while since we came back," you finished off when you came across your old seat and you sat down.

it has been a while since you both came back to your high school, and it has been a while since you two went separate ways to pursue your careers. nothing physical has changed in these classrooms, but they no longer hold the scent of your old friends or the sights of your old classmates.

other people study here now, these classrooms are a foreign home now. as much as that irked you, you had to accept growing up.

felix pulled up the chair in front of you—the desk that belonged to him—and sat down facing the back of the chair. he propped his arms on the top rail and leaned his chin on his intertwined hands, staring at you.

the golden sun glossed over your faces, reflecting a younger light that made you gasp as it deceived your eyes with a newfound nostalgia, manually turning the gears in your head to make you see what you haven't seen in a long time.

felix's hair was black—black, short, and messy. you used to run your hands through them, especially when he was pouting from having trouble with finishing his literature homework. the teacher was the worst, he got unlucky to be stuck with them for a full year. it was thanks to your help, and the longevity of the lunch breaks, that he managed to survive.

instead of the turtleneck and coat, he wore the loose tie he never learned to properly tighten and his wrinkled uniform. his shirt was untucked because he couldn't be bothered. he would eventually fix it up, though, because he was scared of the discipline teacher. but, this was between him and himself only, compared to the discipline teacher he was more scared of you scolding him about his untidy uniform.

(funnily, there was nothing more he would purposefully chase after than your gentle nags back in the days.)

the freckles across his cheeks would be less visible. hyunjin used to have to cover it up for him because he wasn't confident about the way they looked on his face, but you remembered—you remembered how he had told you he loved it when you counted them, touched them, and kissed them as you sat on his lap.

he had told you he loved it.

he had told you he loved you back in high school, and you had said it back.

you remembered. under this blazing sun, the sun that never changed, the sun that only showed you the truth and what you secretly longed for, you remembered that you and felix were once in love.

"ah, this really brings back old memories," felix sighed dramatically with a smile. "we used to talk like this a lot. i remember being so uncomfortable sitting like this, but i wanted to talk to you so i kept sitting like this until the bell rings."

"what?" you scoffed, leaning back on your seat and raising a brow. "you should have just told me."

"i didn't want the ruin the flow of our conversations!" he said, then he propped his face on his fists like a flower. "besides, i used to think i look cool sitting like this, so i always sat like this when we chatted."

you gave him a faint eye-roll. you thought it was lame now, but back then having him turn as soon as the lunch bell rings and hearing your classmates coo teasingly at you two was the one thing you looked forward to in school, that was besides seeing felix, of course.

"well, it worked, didn't it?" you said. "you snatched me."

"i totally did." he laughed.

both of you didn't want to verbally acknowledge the fact that you two had been so madly in love back then that you would rather let silence fall over. it would have been awkward to talk about it after so long, even though you two had been very mature about the break-up and remained as loose friends afterward.

in an attempt to break the silence, you kicked your feet, reached out, and playfully ruffled his hair. felix was taken back by your sudden movement, his eyes widening in panic that you were messing up his hair as his hand immediately flew from his pocket to stop you.

"hey! i spent a long time on this ponytail!" he complained, frowning at your loud giggles at his misery.

"i'm sorry! it's just–" your eyes caught sight of a single run sitting on his fourth finger and you paused. there was a gentle pang in your chest as you tore your eyes away.

regaining your senses quickly, you removed your hand from his hair and sat back down, then you nudged your head over at his hand. "i see you got a promise ring there?"

felix hummed questioningly. he looked up at his hand, still trying to recover from the initial shock of your action, and he sighed with recognition when he realized what you meant. a smile blossomed over his face, a smile so bright and familiar that it made all your forbidden hope dissipate into the hole of your heart.

"yeah, i have a girlfriend," he said, wiggling his fingers. "we have been dating for a year now. i got it for our anniversary!"

you kept the smile on your face. you had gotten over the break-up a long time ago, but when the reality of moving on slapped you across the face like this, your heart churned in distaste anyway. felix was no longer yours, and you were not his—you accept that, you were just a tad bit upset.

"that's good! i'm still waiting for this boy to confess," you muttered with a glare of your eyes as you shifted on your seat. seeing the curious glint in felix's eyes, your thoughts swirled and suddenly your fondness for him faded to the back of your head. you sighed with a defeated smile at the new name in your head. "there is this boy at work–new guy, just a little younger than me–yang jeongin. he is so, so shy."

"i thought you don't like boys younger than you."

"he's an exception."

felix rolled his eyes and waved his hand. "alright. just don't scare him off, you can be intimidating. remember that time when a junior tried to ask you out and he chickened out the last minute–"

"uh, that was because i was dating you back then."

"no, he said it was because you looked like–"

"i know what he said, shut up!" you kicked him under the desk, bubbling a burst of laughter out of him as he stumbled.

after adjusting his position, felix patted his head to fix his hair before he crossed his arms and propped it on the top rail again. he looked at you seriously this time, but his eyes were caring and lovely. after all this time, he looked at you the same way—always, and you loved it all the same.

"does he treat you well?" he asked.

you pursed your lips into a thin smile and nodded. "mhm."

"good."

you glanced at him, wanting to ask your fair share of questions. is he happy? is he loved? is he being held? are his freckles being kissed, or is his hair being combed? is he nagged to take a rest, told that he is pretty? you kept your mouth shut.

the sun was setting into the mountains and the day was changing. the youthful light faded that your current-self once again resurfaced to sight, but just before the last trace of the sun died out in your classroom, you two gazed at each other, and it all went back to the wrinkled uniforms, the tousled hair, the old textbooks, and the shy intertwined hands.

back when felix was the only boy you kept in your heart.

the sun set, the light of his promise ring reflected in your eyes, and you felt a drop in your stomach that you ignored.

"i'm gonna go back and make sure jisung isn't causing a ruckus in the hall," you said as you stood up. "you coming back? dinner is about to start."

felix looked up at you and shook his head. "not yet, you can go first."

you shrugged and left the room with no questions asked. felix returned to the front when you left and he sighed at the worn-out desk before him.

he refused to think about the fluttering feeling in his tummy when you ruffled his hair and when he saw the younger version of you seated in front of him, but he knew for a moment there when he felt it, it was kind and warm, and he knew he missed it somehow.

he missed you, he used to, the only person he had kept in his heart.

tapping his finger, felix rolled his eyes.

"yang jeongin," he clicked his tongue, "pff." and he scoffed.

[nightfallrevel]

Sleeping on Emotions

A/N: This is something that I’ve been working on as a thread on Twitter and I’m just transferring it here for all of you here to enjoy.

This will be posted in parts. This is part one. Transferring might be a little slow, but I’ll try to get part two up in the next couple of days. The thread itself isn’t complete, yet, so it might be some time before part three is ready.

Summary: After they’ve graduated from UA, Bakugo and Kirishima get an apartment together as roommates. Kirishima sleeps like the rock that he is, but now he’s started to sleepwalk himself into Bakugo’s bed occasionally. Bakugo has been pining since high school and this new development isn’t making things any easier on him, especially not when our favorite redhead starts to talk in his sleep, too.

Warnings: Bakugo swears a lot, no smut, mentions of arousal. More warnings for part two.

Bakugo x Kirishima

Word Count: 1,629

Crimson eyes slowly blinked open to the rising sun as Bakugo gradually woke up. He was vaguely aware of a heavy weight around his waist, and he let out a resigned sigh. How long had this been going on? It had started at least a month after he’d moved in with Kirishima to their apartment as roommates.

Once they’d graduated from U.A. nearly six months ago, Kirishima had come up with the idea to make things easier on themselves while they were starting out as new pros. Bakugo, of course, had a hard time telling his best friend ‘no’, even though he’d pretended to reject the idea. The transition had been smooth, overall, though.

They had their own rooms, and it wasn’t much different from dorm life. They even had their own bathrooms. Bakugo only occasionally had to snap at Kirishima about doing his chores, but their shared lives had been amiable, otherwise. At some point, however, something changed.

Bakugo wasn’t sure exactly what had triggered it, but the first night he had woken up to Kirishima climbing into his bed with him, he’d nearly blown his face off. That night had ended with a lot of confusion, yelling, and Kirishima crying his numerous apologies. They chalked up the whole event to Kirishima being overly exhausted and confusing Bakugo’s room with his own.

Until it happened, again.

And then again.

By the fourth time, they realized what was happening. The dumbass was sleepwalking. As far as Kirishima was aware, he’d never walked in his sleep before. So, Bakugo made him see a doctor about it. The redhead went without complaint, not wishing to cause any more inconvenience to his best friend.

A common trigger for sleepwalking was apparently stress, so Kirishima began to see a therapist and the episodes lessened. Bakugo wasn’t supposed to wake him up while he was sleepwalking, because that was dangerous, so he tried locking his bedroom door. It would have worked, except the meathead broke the damn doorknob off with his quirk, and came in, anyway.

Resigned and annoyed, Bakugo was forced to allow his best friend to sleep in his bed with him. Could he have slept on the floor, instead? Like fucking hell he was gonna have back problems because his idiot friend couldn’t stay in his own bed. Not to mention, the moment Kirishima was settled, strong arms wrapped around Bakugo’s middle and held him tightly in place.

The damn spiky haired idiot was an octopus. Bakugo had stopped complaining a while ago. Besides being useless, he found that he didn’t exactly hate the forced cuddling. No, it was worse than that. Rather than hate it, he fucking loved it.

During their first year at U.A., it had taken Bakugo some time to adjust to Kirishima touching him constantly. It wasn’t long after that Bakugo actually began to look forward to it. The notion surprised him because he couldn’t stand anyone else. He’d grown to tolerate being touched by others, but that was all he could manage. It had taken through nearly all of their second year to figure out why Kirishima was different.

Bakugo had fallen for the idiot.

He had tried his best to avoid and ignore his feelings, but it was difficult to do when he had a constant, redheaded reminder in his personal space. What a fool he had been to ever agree to be roommates.

A heavy sigh tickled the back of Bakugo’s neck, sending a shiver down his spine and awakening his arousal. If Kirishima didn’t sleep like the fucking rock he was, Bakugo would have punched him awake. How he ever woke up to his alarm, Bakugo would never know.

It was too early in the morning for this shit, and the last thing Bakugo needed was for Kirishima to wake up and figure out that he had an erection. Morning wood was bad enough, let alone getting aroused while sharing a bed with his best friend. Bakugo struggled with the covers, but they were too tangled up between the two of them, and Kirishima’s arm only tightened around him.

As he growled with frustration, he was ready to punch him awake when something new happened. “Baku...go.” Kirishima mumbled in his sleep as he groaned lightly, squeezing Bakugo back against his chest even tighter. Bakugo went still as he sucked in a sharp breath. Then the idiot snorted and laughed. “That’s a walrus, not a cookie. Dummy.”

Bakugo nearly choked. The idiot was talking in his sleep! He covered his mouth as he tried not to laugh out loud, but Kirishima kept talking. Every bit of it was nonsense, and Bakugo soon couldn’t hold his laughter back any longer. He was nearly breathless from how much he was laughing, his body shaking with it. 

“Bakugo? What’s so funny?” The laughter died in his throat as Bakugo fought to get it together. Kirishima was waking up, but hadn’t moved, his arm still tight around Bakugo’s waist.

“You were talking in your sleep, dumbass. Now, let go of me. I gotta piss.” It took several seconds before Kirishima’s arm lifted away. The redhead was always especially slow when waking up, so Bakugo tried to be patient. Truthfully, it was their day off and Bakugo would have been content to sink into Kirishima’s warmth for a couple more hours. He could never admit that, though, as he was quite sure his best friend didn’t see him that way.

Once he was free, Bakugo disentangled himself from the blankets and got up. As he stretched, he was vaguely aware of Kirishima sitting up behind him. “Did you say I was talking in my sleep?” Groggy words reached Bakugo’s ears.

“Yeah. You sure were.” Kirishima didn’t respond right away, so Bakugo went ahead and made his way to his personal bathroom to relieve himself and brush his teeth. By the time he came back out, Kirishima had already left and he heard the shower start up from the other bathroom.

Scrubbing a hand through his hair, he headed into the kitchen and began making breakfast, starting with the coffee. By the time he started cooking, Kirishima came out into the kitchen as he rubbed his hair dry with a towel and wearing only a pair of running shorts that were slung low on his hips. Bakugo couldn’t stop himself from following the neat, black happy trail that disappeared under the waistband with his gaze.

He quickly refocused himself on the pan when Kirishima dropped the towel around his broad shoulders. “Smells good, man. You making some for me, too? Or should I make my own?” Kirishima grinned that easygoing smile of his and Bakugo felt something flutter in his chest.

He grumbled as he pointed to the kitchen table, trying to smother his own feelings. “Sit down. It’s almost done.” Kirishima’s grin got even bigger with his excitement.

“Awe, thanks, man! You seriously are the best.” The redhead sat down and leaned his chin in his hand as his expression faltered. “Sorry for sleepwalking into your bed, again. I know how much you hate it.” Bakugo let out a soft grunt in reply as he plated their food and came over to the table.

After handing Kirishima his plate, Bakugo sat across from him with his own, digging in with his chopsticks. “Stop beating yourself up over it. You can’t help it. Fucking punch me in your sleep, though, and then we’ll have a problem. Got it?” Bakugo growled over his rice omelet. They were Kirishima’s favorite, and Bakugo couldn’t help himself.

Kirishima gave him a wobbly smile that Bakugo was sure would turn into tears at any second. “Thanks, man. You really are the best. I mean it.” He looked down at the food and sniffled a little. “You even made my favorite, again.” So, the idiot had noticed.

Bakugo feigned an annoyed ‘tch’ and rolled his eyes even as his face warmed. “Whatever, just eat.” He watched the redhead a moment as Kirishima dug in happily, thanking Bakugo again for the food. “So, what the fuck were you even dreaming about this morning? You should have heard the shit coming from your mouth.”

With his mouth stuffed with food, Kirishima looked up from his plate with wide eyes, chewing thoughtfully before swallowing it down. “I dunno. Don’t really remember that much. Why, what was I saying?” He gave Bakugo that shark-toothed grin of his that always made Bakugo wonder what it would be like to be bitten, making a shiver run imperceptibly down his spine.

“You laughed and said a walrus wasn’t a cookie, then something about some damn kittens and losing their mittens, or some shit.” Kirishima scrunched up his nose in concentration as he listened, then shook his head with a laugh.

“Nah, doesn’t ring a bell. Sounds like one crazy dream, though!” Kirishima laughed some more then went back to eating. Bakugo watched him for a moment, contemplative as he wondered what else he might get to hear Kirishima say in his sleep. He actually found himself somewhat excited for it.

It was a long moment before he snapped himself out of his staring spell, his thoughts wandering to things much less appropriate while eating breakfast. “When we’re done eating, we’re going to the store. The fridge is looking bare, so it needs to be restocked.” Bakugo informed him before starting to eat, again. Kirishima only smiled and nodded, mouth too full to respond verbally.

As Bakugo chewed, the thought that his best friend might one day stop sleepwalking occurred to him, making him frown. He really hoped that would never happen, knowing that he could never bring himself to ask his best friend to cuddle him if it ever did.

Part 2

[lalalowly]

𝙰𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎

♪•»  ⊱•⊰  «•♪

paring: Iwaizumi x Fem!Reader

t/w: None for now.

a/n: IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE PROLOUGE YET READ THE PROLOUGE

Side note: This is a old story I've had so if the writing style changes as the chapters go on you know why.

Word count: 1k ♪•»  ⊱•⊰  «•♪

Cameras rolling in 3...2...1...action!

"Hello everyone and welcome back to After Class with Kamanato Sensei, we have a special guest here with us today. She's been in a few big movies lately and is one of the best up-coming actresses in her generation. With this great honor I give to you, y/n l/n."

As you heard your name you walk out onto the stage. The lights on the stage shined dramatically on you, the sounds of people cheering, and whistling made you light up with excitement seeing as how this was your first time on a talk show since your acting career took off. Walking over to the host you gave him a hug then sat down in the chair next to him.

"My goodness y/n-sama it really is true what they say about you, your more beautiful in person then in magazines and movies." Internally your blushed externally you laughed. This was a nice change in pace compared to how people talked to you and treated you before, it felt amazing.

"Arigato gozaimashita Kamanato Sensei, I'm truly grateful to be here today" '…HOLY SHIT DID I JUST SAY THANK YOU VERY MUCH IN JAPANESE??!?! I DON’T EVEN KNOW IF I SAID THAT SHIT RIGHT-‘

"I'm glad to hear it. So, I hear this is the first time you've been on a talk show and being around and audience this big, how are you feeling?"

"To be honest with you... I'm a little nervous. This is all so new to me, the attention, the career, and the amount of people who look up to me, it honestly really shocking" you chuckled out.

"Wow, from what the media and I have seen, you look like you’re a trained veteran when it comes to handling paparazzi, people coming up to you on the streets asking for your autograph or a photograph with you. How do you keep so composed and well put together in those situations?"

Kamanato was truly interested in what you'd say next. After all you've been threw the answer should be pre-put into your brain, but you struggled to find and answer.

Taking a deep breath, you looked at the audience, the shining light fixtures, then back at him.

"Well Kamanato, I guess you could say people like you, the many people who look up to me, support me, people who've helped me get to this point, their support keeps me going. No matter how many fans and paparazzi come up to me, my smile and my personality will always be true to me. I have no reason to put on a façade for anyone or anything." Your words were true to your heart and your heart and mind were on the same track. No one could change you from who you are now, and who you'll become.

"I can tell you truly love being and actress Y/n-sama. I know I'm not the only one here who thinks so. As you spoke those words your eyes glimmered, and your face looked truly sincere. So as today’s after class session slowly comes to ends, what's one thing you want to tell people if they want to pursue their own dreams?”

That question brought you great joy. Your words could truly change someone's life and help them achieve their goal, ambitions, and dreams.

"If your going have a dream don't give up on it. There will be times when it seems pointless to keep going but if you give up now, you'll never get to experience the happiness of achieving something you've had your heart set on and have work on."

"Truly inspiring Y/n -sama. I hope everyone doesn't take those words in vain." he said with a smile on his face. "Soon the After Class bell will ring so let's give a farewell round of applauses to our special guest and wish her luck on her upcoming journey."

Then with that you got up hugged him once more then waved to the camera and the audience then walked off the stage. Walking out of the set building your assistant Kiyoko and close friend Kita your manager came walking up to you.

"You did swell out there. You were calm and collected, you thought all your responses out thoroughly and answered truthfully. The way you handled yourself out there was that of someone who's been in the acting industry for years. I'm truly impressed." Kita was always one for telling the truth even throughout high school.

If you were in a predicament or if you needed input on something, Kita was always there to help you, he was your best friend and your greatest ally. Even though you dropped most of your friends you kept him around, he was kinda like your brother and good luck charm.

Kiyoko waited patiently for Kita to finish talking then proceed to speak.

"Y/n -chan we need to get going to your next appointment with fashion designer Asahi Azumane and then next week on Monday you have a photoshoot with Lev and Alisa Haiba-"

She continued to talk as her, Kita, and you started to walk towards the car. Getting into the car, Kita sat in the passenger's seat, Kiyoko in the back with you. Your personal driver Shohei Fukunaga started up the car and got onto the main road.

"Y/n -chan would you like me to play the news for you on the dashboard tv?" He looked at you from the rear-view mirror.

"Yes please, thank you very much Fukunaga." you said with a smile.

As the dashboard tv slowly rolled down from the back console, it showed a volleyball competition. The news camera slowly paned over to a tall male with dark brown spiky-hair, olive green eyes, and a neutral expression plastered on his face. Fukunaga turned up the volume.

"-From the looks of it, Iwaizumi Hajime seems to be unfazed by the actions of the opposing team. Is it because he knows he trained the team he works with so well? Or is it maybe the fact that he thinks the opposing team should put more effort into their actions? Well, we'll find out soon after the break, for now I'm Tetsuro Kuroo and we'll lithium decide what course of action they'll take to see how this plays out."

‘Hajime Iwaizumi...Hajime Iwaizumi...Hajime Iwaizumi- The name sounds so familiar, but I can't place my finger on it...I wonder-‘

[cultgambles]

Sometimes You Need a Little TLC from a Villain (Dabi x Reader)

Summary:

Reader is a normal civilian...well as normal as you can get dating a villain. On Friday, Reader is stalked. On Saturday, an 'accident' occurs. On Sunday, Dabi comforts you best he knows.

word count: 1925

Masterlist | Requests? open

It was Friday, the last day of the work week. I wouldn’t be able to see You in person for a couple days. It made me feel so sad, but then I saw You through the doors of the office building. The clear office doors where You worked as an accountant. I knew You hated that job, with your slavedriver of a boss pushing you around constantly. But, I suppose You did make good money, your apartment was nothing to laugh at. Even if it was at the edge of a seedy part of town. Even if You have creepy neighbors I’ll always be watching You.

 I could faintly smell your scent as You walked past me. You didn’t see me, luckily, otherwise I would have to converse as to why your coworker was ‘reading’ a paper in front of the building in which you both worked. 

You walked past that karaoke bar as you always do to get to your train--the local green one. I saw You insert the ticket, and I followed after a few people. I stayed near You, maybe I could be your gallant knight in shining armor to save you from weirdos. I saw You sitting by the window, squeezing your legs, your brow furrowing as You stared at your phone. What was on there? I craned my neck to see, even though I knew I was too far away. The train came to a stop: station 5. Your commute was at least 30 minutes, mine more. As You walked out of the station, I saw your head tilt and You swerved around, scanning the area. I ducked behind a wall, and your heeled feet continued on their way. Relief flooded me, You didn’t see me. 

That relief however, was short lived. Right out of the station’s doors, I saw You jump into someone’s arms. I heard your laugh, like bells in the wind.

I clenched my fist, fishing my phone out of my pocket to snap a photo of this mystery man. No one was good enough to be with You. Everyone except me, of course. You and that man walked hand in hand all the way to your apartment. Disgusting. Suddenly, the man lifted your arm above your head, spinning You into a hug. 

“Hey! What are you doing?!” You giggled. Your back was to me, but he. He was facing me. As I stared on, his eyes focused, landing on me. They were a bright cerulean, deadly. Just as quick as they focused, he turned around, an arm slung on your shoulder.

I blinked, rubbing my eyes. Did that actually happen? Or were my eyes playing tricks on me? 

You were gone by the time I decided to move again. Maybe that was for the best. 

Your apartment was on the 2nd floor, overlooking the street. Your window blinds were almost always open, the lights inside silhouetting your body perfectly. You of course, weren’t alone. That man. I saw his shape too, that should be me. 

I stayed outside for another hour and a half at least. I would have stayed longer, but he was pissing me off too much. Since when had this happened? I’ve been following You for a couple weeks now and I’ve never seen him before. I spared another glance at your window, and the blinds were drawn except one part was lifted.

Cerulean blue eyes.

[ Y / N ] P O V

“What are you doing, weirdo?” [Y/N]  called to their boyfriend.

“Nothing you need to worry about, Doll,” Dabi said, pulling the blind down.

“Well, I hope you’re hungry! I made cold soba.”

“Starving,” he replied, joining [Y/N]  at the small dining table. “Hey. You ever feel like you’re being watched?”

“Watched? I can’t say...today I thought someone was behind me a lot though, why?”

“Why don’t you take your pants off then? I know you hate wearing them after work.”

“Oh so you just wanna see my ass, huh?”

“Course,” Dabi gave a lazy smirk and waved a hand towards [Y/N] . 

“Fine, fine! Let me finish eating at least.” After, [Y/N]  and Dabi cuddled on the small couch and watched Into the Tall Grass. 

Dabi always smelled like campfire smoke and pine, cigarette smoke seeped into his clothes. [Y/N]  used to hate the smell, but now, it brought them comfort.

“Why did you ask if I thought someone was watching me earlier?” [Y/N]  asked, pressing their face into his neck. In return, he tightened his grip.

“Don’t worry about it, Doll. Thought I saw someone from your work.”

“Oh, Hidashi? He rides the same train as me. I think he told me he gets off at the stop after mine or something.”

“Hidashi, huh?”

“Yeah, okay, shh, movie time now.” [Y/N] ’s boyfriend gave a small chuckle and kissed their hair. 

The rest of the evening was spent cuddling on the couch, which the two were grateful of. Dabi hadn’t been around for the last couple weeks because of a mission Shigaraki sent him on, and [Y/N]  was just glad to be off work, and to be in their boy’s arms. 

≿-----༺❀༻-----≾

I tried imagining me holding You like that last night, but he kept popping up in my mind. That guy with those blazing eyes, spiky black hair, and long black coat. Was this the type of man You went for? Some drab fellow? Why couldn’t it be me? These last few months of working with You, I tried being nice and being your friend. I brought You sweet snacks I thought You would enjoy, and hovered around You, always ready to lend a hand if You needed it. Punching the air right now. 

I sighed, rubbing the back of my hands over my eyes and got up to get dressed. It was Saturday. You always went to a park around lunch time. You would spend a good hour or so there, and later return to your apartment.

I would be there, of course, watching silently. When I got to your apartment, the lights were on. I saw You across the street, seemingly dancing to a song. I felt the ghost of a smile grace my face, until I saw Him waltz towards You. He held and hand out for You, and placed another on the small of your back. I seethed, watching the two of you sway.

Who even was this guy? I kicked a trash can and the lid clattered to the ground. I couldn’t bear to see You with someone. I fished my phone out of my pocket, scrolling through the thousands of photos I took of just You. My haggard breath calmed slightly. This was no biggie, I could get rid of him easily with my Quirk. He looks scrawny enough. 

A cough jolted me out of my reverie. Startled, I looked to your window, only to see the lights off. Had You left for the park already and I hadn’t noticed?

“Hey.”

I grunted. Who the hell is bothering me now?

“Look at me, motherfucker,” the voice commanded.

Slowly, I turned around.

The man before me was covered in scars and staples. Wasn’t there a villain that had those features?

“I said look at me.”

I saw his hand reach out, a blue flame hovering above his palm. Hesitantly, I looked up, what would a villain want with me, a normal civilian?

Blue cerulean eyes.

I would recognize them anywhere.

“It’s you. What are you? Some kind of clown?” I sneered. He raised an eyebrow.

“So. You’re Hidashi, huh?” Okay. Now a little fear.

“How..How do you know my name?”

“I’m sure you know mine, after all, I am a notorious villain,” he purred, stalking closer to me. 

“Dabi..”

“That’s right,” he affirmed, stooping down. “But you know who else I am?”

“[Y/N] ’s boy toy or something? I haven’t seen you around. What, they pick you off the street because they felt sorry for your ugly ass?”

I can’t believe my precious [Y/N]  decided to go for this asshole.

Wait, was he holding You hostage?

“We met a few months ago, you know? [Y/N]  found me lying on the cold hard ground. Patched me up. Now they can’t shake me,” he said. A few months? How did I not know about this? Why didn’t You tell me?

“They won’t have to worry about you anymore though.”

“They’ll never get rid of me. Ha! They don’t even know it’s me! You may be a villain but I know you can’t fight without your little buddies here to help you!”

“You’re right, they’ll never get rid of you themselves…” He sighed, almost contemplating. “Glad I'm here to do it for them.”

[ Y / N ] P O V

Today was a really nice day, [Y/N]  thought as they headed back home. It was nice to sit under the cedar tree and watch the clouds roll by. [Y/N]  had even gotten a ways through their book. 

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing out here all by your lonesome?” a man’s voice drawled behind you.

“Just walking home,” [Y/N]  replied awkwardly, turning around slightly to get a look at the guy. Once they realized who it was, they brightened up immensely. “Hey, you! I didn’t see you this morning. Thought you had to do another errand.” That’s what they called his work. [Y/N]  knew Dabi worked with the league, but he didn’t like going too much in detail, so [Y/N]  didn’t ask.

Dabi throws an arm around them. “Yeah, I had to take care of somethin’, but now I’m all yours, Sweetness.”

[Y/N]  giggled, “Thinkin’ you’re gonna get some tonight?”

“You know I will.”

“Mmm, maybe,” [Y/N]  teased.

As soon as the two got inside of [Y/N] ’s apartment, Dabi flopped on the couch, while you went in the kitchen to find some snacks. [Y/N]  heard the TV flicker on, and a news reporter appeared on screen.

“Reporting live! This is Max Lobo. I never do things like this, but I’ve been following the Paranormal Liberation Front for some time now. A BODY has been discovered. It’s singed and nearly unrecognizable. A man in his late 20’s, brown hair. 

“While this could be the work of a lesser criminal, these blue flames that linger are sure signs of the villain Dabi. We will continue investigating this as if our life depends on it. Was he just trying to blow off some steam? Or was he a rat that needed to be eliminated?

“Back to you at the studio.”

“Dabi?”

A grunt.

“Was that your little errand today?”

“So what if it was? He deserved to die. I saw the way he looked at you.”

“D’awww, you care about me or something?” [Y/N]  crooned, setting a plate of cookies on the coffee table. 

“Nah, I think that reporter was right. Just tryin’ to blow off some steam,” Dabi smirked.

“Glad I could lead you to just the guy then.”

“Yeah yeah, get your ass over here,” he said, rolling his eyes. Dabi pulled [Y/N]  onto his lap.

[Y/N]  liked when he would stare up at them with those content eyes and lazy smirk. They liked being taller than him, if only for a bit. Leaning down, [Y/N]  captures his lips in a kiss. They always start off slow and sweet, but Dabi’s patience wears thin and it turns steamy in a matter of seconds. He runs his hands over [Y/N] ’s sides, grasping at the thin shirt. 

“Stop hiding from me,” Dabi murmured, breaking the kiss and pulling it over their head. 

[Y/N] ran their fingers across his scars and staples in a light feathery fashion. 

PS!! requests are open, so drop me somethin if you’d like!

[milkybunbuns]

i. new beginnings → perfection masterlist → next

w/c: 3.3k

warnings: bnha spoilers ahead (season 1 episode 5 mainly)

a/n: this series will follow closely with the anime although I might be missing parts of it since it’s been a while since I watched BNHA. also i went overboard with this aishhh, though I don’t think future chapters will be so long oh and I couldn’t be original so I stole the quirk idea from one of my old fics on wattpad and added more abilities to it haha

“Aww comee onn you really can’t be sending me to UA, you know how much I like being at home with you!”, you whined at Keigo, grabbing tightly onto his arm and digging the soles of your feet into the carpet of the living room.

 The said man sighed, facepalming, “Look nuggie, I would never do anything to make you uncomfortable but you’re gonna have to interact with people if you’re going to become a popular pro hero in the future like me!!”

“But can’t you just keep home schooling and training me?”

“I would, but I have hero work to do as well at the agency and I wouldn’t have enough time to help you out”, you pouted and kept your ground in the living room. It had already been a fussy morning with Keigo chasing you everywhere to get you to put on your uniform. With a final rub of his temples he spoke up again, “I’ll let you buy anything at the grocery store tonight?”

You looked up at him and stuck a pinky out, “Pinky promise?”

“Yup!!” and before you could even respond he scooped you up, already flying out of the building and flying towards what you assumed was the direction of UA.

“Please warn me next time!”, you yelled over the wind as you held on tightly, you would use your quirk but you still didn’t have a licence and you were still learning how to fly through narrow spaces. Crashing into a building didn’t sound very appetising at the moment. It wasn’t too long before you spotted the easily recognisable glass building of UA, Keigo slowing down for a landing and allowing you to get off.

“Alright I’ll see you later nuggie!”, he waved cheerily, already getting ready to take off.

You just nervously responded with an “uh-huh”, while examining the surroundings, students bustling everywhere. Alright 1-A it was, I should probably ask someone, maybe someone who looks nice. Hmm, how about that purple-haired boy, yeah, he looks like a senior and doesn’t look too bad. You briskly walked up to the purple haired male with elf ears, “Err, hii-”

He looked up at you with shock and you could see bullets of sweat dripping off his forehead, “u-uh h-h-hi”, he meekly responded, looking like he was going to die any second. 

Just as you were about to ask for directions to 1-A, too cherry voices called out to the boy in front of you, “Woah, you’re socialising Tamaki! Great job!”, a blonde boy with blue eyes strolled up to his friend, grinning brightly and giving him two thumbs up.”

“Hey Mirio! Wait up!!”, you turned around, immediately spotting a light blue haired girl rushing towards her friends waving happily. She must’ve noticed you standing there awkwardly and quickly came to your rescue, “Hi!! I’m Nejire and that’s Tamaki and Mirio! You must be a first year here!”, she smiled at you gently, pointing to the respective people as she introduced you to them.

“Nice to meet you Nejire-senpai, I’m L/n Y/n. Also do you know where 1-A is, I’m kinda lost”, you had enrolled as L/n Y/n instead of Takami Y/n as to not reveal the last name of Hawks since it was meant to be kept secret for some reason he didn’t tell you about.

“Speak no more, we’ll guide you there since we’re the big 3 after all!”

“Huh, what’s the big 3?”

“Oh, it’s basically 3 students in their third years who are talented and I guess you could say that’s us. Come on Mirio and Tamaki, let’s help bring this student to her class.”

Mirio took your right side, while Nejire led on in front, pointing out different buildings and Tamaki in the back.

“I’m Mirio! Great to meet you!”, he reached a hand to shake with you which you quickly did, “Same here Mirio-senpai, I’m L/n Y/n.”

“You’ll be seeing us around the school plenty, so if you ever have any questions, feel free to ask us or any of the teaching staff, they’re always happy to help! Well, I guess I can’t really say the same about Mr. Aizawa..”

“Oh, isn’t Mr. Aizawa, Eraserhead?”

“Yeah, he is and as a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure he’s going to be your teacher this year.”

“That’s uhh wonderful, he sounds like a great guy!”, you replied awkwardly trying to sound cheery.

“Don’t worry too much, you’ll do fine”, he patted you on the back reassuringly and at the same moment, Nejire announced that you had arrived at 1A.

“Thank you Nejire, Mirio and Tamaki-senpai”, you bowed to them, before they sought you off, heading for their own classes. Pushing the door open, the room was already bustling with students and you scanned your eyes over the room finding a seat between a spiky red hair boy and a green haired girl who looked a bit like a frog. Honestly, the random desk at the back seemed wonderful at first, but you remembered how Keigo had encouraged you to sit around more social people and they seemed social enough. It was probably the least you could do after he went through all the convincing with Nezu and some other things to get you to UA without having to take any tests.

You were really relieved when neither of them didn’t bother to talk to you, or notice you maybe, and continued on chatting to their friends. It seemed like you were just on time, the bell ringing and yet not any sight of any teacher. Frowning slightly, you were about to get up and go to the staff room which Nejire had pointed out earlier to search for Aizawa-sensei.

 Luckily, he arrived in some sort of yellow sleeping bag which slightly resembled a cocoon, announcing in a sorta lazy and flat tone, “Go somewhere else if you want to play at being friends. This is the hero course.”

The room quickly quieted down and became silent as everyone averted their attention to Aizawa, “It took 8 seconds before you quieted down. You kids aren’t rational enough. I’m your homeroom teacher Shota Aizawa. Nice to meet you. This is sudden, but put this on”, he presented a UA PE uniform out of thin air, or maybe he had it hidden inside his sleeping bag that whole time? “And meet me at the field after.”

Without any hesitation, everyone got up and grabbed their PE uniform from the desk which had their names on the packaging, likely to have been pre-ordered and filed out of the classroom towards the lockers. You grabbed yours, grimacing as a blond spiky haired boy shoved past you, resisting the temptation to yell at him and give him a piece of your mind. Like what, how can someone be so rude!

Upon arrival at the locker rooms, you didn’t really try to socialise with anyone, nor did they, I mean, your locker was in the back corner so they probably wouldn’t notice you anyways which was fine to you. To draw the least attention towards yourself, you waited until all the other girls had headed out happily chatting among themselves, then followed closely behind them and out onto the field where pretty much everyone was already assembled. 

“We’ll be having a quirk assessment test”, well there came the flat recognisable tone of Aizawa, he would definitely be an interesting teacher, that’s all you could say for him. Everyone either goraned or shrieked in horrification at this announcement, quirk assessment on the first day? Well damn, okay, thought first day would be a bit more chill. Kinda ironic for someone who seems like he can’t be bothered to do much himself.

“But what about the entrance ceremony or orientation?”, some girl piped up, yup definitely a bubbly one, she should be pretty easy to make friends with.

Okay at this point Aizawa was just getting a bit too blunt, “If you’re going to become a hero you don’t have time for such leisurely events. UA’s selling points is that it’s ways aren’t traditional, which is the same as how the teachers teach.” You watched him carefully as he skimmed over the class, landing on the rude blond spiky kid from earlier, “Bakugo, you finished top of the practical test, didn’t you? What was your furthest throw in middle school?” So Bakugo is his name, I’ll just stay away from him.

The said boy looked up cockily, a shit eating grin on his face, “67 meters.”

“Okay, then try throw this ball, but you can use your quirk.”

“Sure”, he grabbed the ball, leaning back on one foot in the circle and yelling “DIE!” as the ball flew off. It wasn’t took long before a beep came from a device that Aizawa was holding, showing 705.2 meters.

“Know your maximum first, that’s the most rational way to forming the foundations of a hero”, he seriously seemed to have something with things being done rationally...

A chorus of woah’s were heard throughout the class, well that sure did blow up that Bakugo’s ego. His ego must’ve been too big for his own good.

“This is going to be fun!”, an alien looking girl exclaimed punching her fist in the air.

Followed by a black haired boy excitedly looking on, “So we get to use our quirks as much as we want!”

And yet again, the mood came crashing down as Aizawa spoke up again, “It looks fun, huh? You have three years to become a hero, you think it’ll be all fun and games? Sure, then whoever comes last in the 8 tests will be expelled. Welcome to UA’s hero course!”, earning another screech form the class including yourself. Alright Y/n, you are NOT wasting this change Keigo gave you and you better do well in this!

“Let’s begin shall we? Starting with the 50m dash.”

The first two up were blue haired boy and the frog looking girl who sat next to you in class and before you could even blink, the blue haired boy was already off, speeding past the finish line. His quirk must’ve something to do with speed, so don’t panic Y/n, there’s only so much you can do with speed, you encouraged yourself determinedly looking on. And maybe you were a bit tooo busy encouraging yourself when you noticed the same bubbly brown haired girl patted you on the back.

“Hey, it’s your turn. Also, I’m Ochaco Uraraka, nice to meet you!”

“Thanks Ochaco-san, I’m L/n Y/n. We can continue to chat after these tests, sorry”, you apologetically looked at her before rushing towards the starting line. Beside you, was a white and red haired male with a red scar over his left eye. Okay that’s edgy, time to focus! You activated your quirk allowing wings to grow on your back through the use of light energy which was absorbed through two horns on your head.

Ready

Set

Go!

You flapped your wings as fast as you could making it in 4 seconds which wasn’t too much faster than the guy behind you gliding along with ice. Your brain quickly put together what his quirk was, white represents ice and red must represent fire. Wonder why he didn’t use his fire like the explosions of that Bakugo boy, it would’ve been much faster than skating.

Then came the grip test which you absolutely flunked, only coming in at 43kg which was pretty much the lowest in the class. Well what can some damn light energy do to help increase your grip? All it’ll do is burn your hands off.

After came the standing long jump with you passed with breeze, just flying to clear the sandbox and with the repeated side steps you simply used pure speed to get through it. And at last, came the ball throw the one which you were most excited for since you had a great plan to get a good score. When it came up to your turn you grabbed the ball tightly throwing it up in the air gently right above you, then activating your quirk and encasing it in a bright bubble made of light energy, then sent it off, controlling the bubble to keep going forwards without leaving the circle at all. You concentrated hard, thinking about the ball in your mind and it got more difficult to control until you couldn’t visualise it’s location anymore and let it drop. A beep was heard as Aizawa presented you with his device, showing 1638 meters.

Satisfied with your work, you smiled a bit and got back to your place.

“Midoriya, your turn”, the green haired boy nervously walked forwards, grabbing onto the ball and throwing it. You almost scoffed, if you didn’t feel the teeniest bad for the poor boy who had seemed so confused. Something was surely off about him, how did someone who can barely even use or control their quirk get into UA... He was given another chance, getting almost the same as Bakugo, except his hand turned a weird purple colour. That must be one powerful quirk for one weak body, you grimaced at his injury.

“Ow, that’s gotta hurt, Aizawa-sensei sure is harsh”, Ochaco frowned at the scene in front.

“I mean yeah he is, but not gonna lie, if I was in Aizawa’s spot I’d seriously be wondering how he got in, though he does have some potential with a quirk as powerful as his.”

“I’m sure he’ll get better, hopefully he’s not last, I’m really hoping that Mineta kid gets expelled, I already don’t really like him just by the looks of him.”

“Either it’s a crush or just you dislike Mineta, but then again, you shouldn’t be judging a book by its cover.”

“Eh what make sure you think that!”, she panicked cheeks flushed, “Its just that Mineta guy really seems like a perv.”

“Well, in that case, I guess it’s kinda his own fault, first impressions are key.”

“That’s true I guess.”

The two of you were snapped out of your conversation when Aizawa’s voice rang through the field, pulling up a projection, or was it a hologram? Anyways, you quickly skimmed through the board, searching for your name and you were glad to see you had landed a decent spot, coming in 3rd, just behind the Todoroki kid. And in last came Midoriya, ow, that’s seriously gotta be a huge blow to his self esteem.

“No ones actually gonna get expelled, it was just a rational deception to get you all to go beyond.”

“It was clear it was a rational deception”, Momo who you had seen on the top of the board piped up unhelpfully.

“Ughhh well that’s just greaaat”, you groaned into your hands “and now we appear to have a smartie genius know it all in our class as well”, you muttered annoyed as Ochaco sweat dropped patting your back slowly.

“L/n, you should not be so disrespectful to your classmates!”, Iida reprimanded, chopping his arms up and down.

“Okay thank you thank you.”

Finally school had been dismissed and you stood outside the gates of UA, impatiently tapping your feet as you waited for Keigo to come pick you up as other students made their own way home. It had been 10 minutes already and the bird brain still hadn’t picked you up! Welll, he didn’t really ever specify that he would come pick you up, you just kinda assumed? Frowning, you activated your quirk, not give one hec about the no quirk in public rule since walking home would take forever and you didn’t have that kind of time smh. Flapping your wings and stretching your arms, you prepared to take off and far into the sky where the police wouldn’t be able to see you flying around.

“What are you doing using your quirk in public without a licence?”, a loud voice boomed, stopping you in your tracks.

“Oh hi Endeavour-san!”, you smiled a bit, continuing to ignore his words and continue what you were going to do. You were really great at being annoying and ignoring people, just a trait you picked up from Hawks I guess.

Endeavour deadpanned, “You’re not allowed to be using your quirk and I know you don’t have a licence, so you need to go and take public transport or walk like everyone else.” He was completely ignored as you started floating a bit, “Well, I’ll be off then! Have a wonderful evening Endeavour-san and Todoroki-san.”

You flew off, but before you could get anywhere, Endeavour was already pulling you down by your foot, I mean, considering how strong he is, it succeeded. “Okay then Mr.Smartie, how am I meant to get home now without my quirk huh? I have no clue how public transport works”, you sneered at him, huffing and crossing your arms unimpressed.

“Go walk home.”

“But it takes a long time.”

“Then go figure out the public transport time schedules.”

At this point, you were sick and tired of him and Todoroki looked pretty annoyed as well, so you decided to do everyone a favour. You grabbed Todoroki by the wrist running off and dragging him while waving back at Endeavour, “I promise I’ll return him in one piece! You don’t need to worry!!”

Endeavour was about to chase after you, but you were already gone and out of sight, whatever, he had to return to his patrol anyways. It could also be good training for Shoto to deal with the annoying villains, not saying you were a villain, but you sure did fit that annoying standard.

“Your welcome”, you yawned lazily, staring up at the sky while walking. Todoroki was still confused but if being with you let him get away from being with his father he was more than glad too. Plus, he could use this chance to find any weaknesses about you, you seemed quite strong and could be someone to look out for in the UA sports festival.

“How did you talk to my father like that? Most people would’ve never had the guts to do it.”

“Wellll, for one, I’m not most people and I know him pretty well, I’ve talked to him a lot of times on his patrols. There’s almost nothing scary about him, he’s just a big fire guy walking around with an angry voice, but it’s not like he can harm any of us, he’s a hero.”

Todoroki felt his blood boil at what you had said, Endeavour was no hero, driving his mother to the end of her wits, training him harshly from a young age, some hero. But the rational part of his brain won over the emotional part, explaining that you were an outsider and had no clue as to their personal lives. Todoroki was intrigued with your quirk, he wanted to learn more about what it could do, all he knew so far was that you had the ability to create wings, bubbles made of light energy and not very much else. Considering you were the sister of Hawks (Endeavour had told him, I guess that’s something that Endeavour is useful for), he honestly expected more, but you could be holding back. He considered asking you more about your quirk but that would probably make you put walls up around yourself and see him as a threat. It was probably just best to wait and see your full potential.

You noticed it had become silent and nobody had anything to say, enveloping both of you in an awkward silence. Well, you were pretty sure you were the only one feeling awkward. You made up some lame excuse and sent Todoorki off on his way, glad to be out off the awkward silence. UA wasn’t that bad, you supposed.

next

[tumblingxelian]

First Day

Summary:

Kakashi wasn’t exactly thrilled by the prospect of another team being assigned to him, especially not one with both Hinata Hyuga and Sasuke Uchiha, at least the pink one wasn’t liable to be any trouble, provided they pass his test of course. 

Within the near empty classroom, one could hear the thrumming of increasingly anxious fingers on a desk as Sakura Haruno bit her lip, tapped the desk and eyed the closed door with worry. 

‘Should we contact someone? Is there a problem? I need to become a ninja, where’s our sensei!?’ 

Meanwhile, practically buried in her own heavy, beige jacket, Hinata Hyuga pressed her fingers together and kept her head low, and then lower and lower again as dread filled her chest. 

‘What will father say? Will be he angry with me? This must be my fault. No one would want to teach the Hyuga failure.’ 

In contrast to his nervous team, Sasuke Uchiha was calm, having cracked open a new manga pressed into his hand that morning the moment the last team filed out of the room. 

‘You’d think he could afford to show up on time for once.’ 

________________________________________________

From his spot on a nearby roof, Kakashi sighed and tried to resume reading his little orange book. 

“Senpai,” A somber voice intoned at his back, “Are you really going to keep dragging this out?” 

Yes he was late.

No he didn’t make any apologies for it.

“It hasn’t even been an hour yet, Itachi-Kun, I’ll give them more time to try starting an actual conversation,” He said cheerfully. 

The look Itachi sent him was vaguely judgmental, it seemed to scream ‘You’re one to talk’, which was very hypocritical of Itachi, if Kakashi said so himself. 

“Speaking of them though,” Kakashi said, snapping his book shut, “You didn’t tell Sasuke about the bell test did you?” 

Itachi shook his head, “No, I know how seriously you’d take a violation of trust like that. Even if I don’t like it, Sasuke-Kun will have to figure it out on his own.” 

“Ah, well, he won’t have you hovering over his shoulder forever I suppose,” Kakashi said, earning a sharp look from the younger man. “Say don’t you have your own team to worry about?” 

Itachi smile and then exploded in a cloud of Chakra infused smoke that drew his potential teams attention to the nearby rooftop, forcing Kakashi to fling himself to the academy roof. 

‘When did he become such a brat?’ 

________________________________________________

The awkward silence was broken by Sakura, “S- Should we find Iruka Sensei? Maybe there’s somewhere we were supposed to meet and we’re late?” 

Hinata let out a distressed squeak at the prospect, or one of them at least, though maybe both. 

Sasuke just sighed, “He’ll get here when he gets here, nothing we can do about it now.” 

“Do- Do you- uh, know our teacher, Sasuke-San?” Hinata murmured. 

Lavender eyes flickered to him as Sakura’s emerald green settled more forcefully, demanding, or perhaps praying for answers. 

“Ah, yeah, he’s-” 

“Here,” A disinterred voice intoned, as the classroom door slid open to reveal a man in a standard Jounin uniform. He was tall, with spindly fingers and slouched posture, a sharp head of spiky silver hair, masked face with a headband covering the left eye. 

All in all, rather unassuming but one wouldn’t notice from the reactions alone.

Hinata’s eyes went wide, a hushed, “CopyCat Kakashi,” escaping her lips before her head drooped sharply. 

Sakura flung herself over the desk and raced up to the Jounin, standing at attention, “Sir!” She said with a chirp. 

“You’re so damn late!” Sasuke snapped, waving his manga accusingly.

“Don’t be rude, Sasuke-kun,” Sakura hissed, as the boy and Hinata slowly shuffled to stand either side of her. 

Sasuke just folded his arms, unrepentant. 

The Jounin tilted his head, one lazy eye nearly glazing over them, “Join me on the roof,” Before he vanished in a puff of smoke. 

With that instruction and perhaps fearful of waiting another hour, the three potential Genin flung themselves out into the hall and raced towards the roof. 

________________________________________________

Kakashi watched as his potential team sat before him on the steps, a touch surprised at the haste of the pink one as she took up the central spot with a certain amount of eagerness not shared by her team. 

‘The file did say teachers pet,’ he recalled, before losing interest. 

He watched as Hinata dropped down to the concrete so silently he was almost impressed.

‘She’s good at erasing her presence by instinct,’ Something about that thought rattled in his mind before he turned his attention to Sasuke. 

The boy was looking fairly amused, and Kakashi could guess why. 

‘Just because Itachi didn’t tell him about the test doesn’t mean he didn’t mention anything else,’ Such a shame too, he always loved getting the kids riled up with non answers and evasiveness. 

‘Still, there’s no better time to start testing their team spirit than now,’ he thought. 

Shrugging and leaning back on his chosen bench, Kakashi said, “I imagine two out of three of you already know who I am so let’s just leave it at this. I am Hatake Kakashi, now, tell me about yourselves, likes, dislikes, dreams... You get the idea.” 

“Stingy,” Sasuke murmured before raising his hand, “I am Uchiha Sasuke, I like training and people who are punctual. I dislike waiting and my dream is to be recognized as one of the strongest Jounin of Konoha.” 

Kakashi turned his attention to the Hyuga girl, intentionally glossing over the pink one, to once again no real reaction from her team mates, while the girls brow knit together in a show of subtle worry before it was schooled away. 

“I- I am, a, Hyuga Hinata,” the girl said meekly, finger tapping as her jaw clammed shut until the pink one gave her an encouraging pat on the back with a smile. “I ah, I like flower pressing and herbology, I - I ah, don’t dislike much except maybe for cruel people, and my dream, is, ah, to be someone my clan can respect.” 

Filing all of that away, Kakashi turned to the last of his nominal Genin and said, “And lastly the pink one.” 

A subtly twitch quickly pressed away, she spoke politely and demurely and oh so falsely to Kakashis trained ears. “My name is Haruno Sakura, I like trivia and studying Chakra theory, I dislike laziness and my dream is to become a Shinobi who can protect the village.” 

Nodding, Kakashi leaned forward and role chuckled with mock cruelty, :The problem with all your dreams is that they rely on you all, already being ninja.” 

He saw the color drain from Haruno’s face, but Hinata and Sasuke seemed more resigned of coolly aware at most. 

“S-Sensei what do you mean? Haruno asked skittishly. 

“Ah well you see, while you’ve all indeed passed your academy exam, that alone doesn’t qualify you to have a Jounin instructor.” He gave a care wave of his hand, “You see even in Hokage-Same wants every graduate to have a Jounin, not everyone is deemed suitable for true training, let alone missions just yet. Some will pass their teams, but me, I’m not s soft hearted.” 

Leveling a finger at them, and then materializing the instructions with a flick of his wrist that made two out of three of his students flinch, Kakashi added, “Bet at these coordinates with the allotted supplies by five AM tomorrow, d not eat breakfast, or I’ll make you throw it up.” 

As each took the paper, he flickered away to listen from above. 

In his ideal scenario, the two more informed clan kids would have informed their less well informed team mate of his reputation, and they’d have started making a plan. 

He was immediately disappointed when Sasuke simply said, “See you two tomorrow then,” before leaping from the roof. 

He was slightly less disappointed by the Kunoichi but not by much. 

“Hey don’t stress, Hinata-Chan, we totally got this,” The tense tone did not entirely sell confidence. 

“Ah, yes, Um, I hope so,” Hinata said softly. 

“We will, we have to,” Sakura said less assuredly but more intently, “I’ll see you tomorrow OK, I’m gonna go see what I can find out about our sensei and pull together some supplies, good luck!” 

“.. Ah, good luck!” 

But the other girl was already gone, and Hinata proceeded to shuffle home alone. 

‘This is going to be a disaster.’ 

_____________________________________________________

Hinata was shamefully grateful for the early meeting time, and even more the order of no breakfast. For all that her stomach might later ache, the prospect of having an excuse to avoid a meal with her father and the other Hyuga elders was a... Relief.

She caught sight of Neji-Nisan leaving around the same time and just like always since his sensei had ordered the early morning training, the older boy looked just a little less biter as he slipped from the compound.

Sometimes Hinata wondered if those early lessons were mandated just so Neji would have an excuse to leave the house early and not return until after dinner, but that was uncharitable of her to consider, so she did not.

Even if a quiet part of her hoped Kakashi-Sensei would mandate similar rules...If she passed his test at least.

Any hope Neji-Nisan might have accompanied her on the trip towards the training ground was dashed when he simply flung himself into the air and blurred across the building tops with nary a glance back at her.

It stung but... Well it was one of many familiar aches, and one she accepted more easily than most.

Forcing that aside, Hinata had jogged her way towards the meeting point just as the sun began to rise from behind Hokage Mountain. Instinctively aviating her Byakugan to scan the new surroundings, the sight that greeted her was a shock.

‘I’m not the first one here?’

Perhaps she had been presumptuous to assume she’d be first, because Uchiha Sasuke was already present, subtle bags under her eyes, but the boy was apparently scouting the woods and laying traps.

‘We’ll need to tread carefully of those,’ she thought absently, placing her pack down behind one of the training logs. ‘Should, should I be preparing like that? No, I’d probably get in the way, but, ah, maybe warm ups?’

It wouldn’t help, a part of her said, but Hinata steeled herself with a shallow breath and began forcing her body through a familiar series of acrobatic stretches as the sun slowly rose up above them.

‘I wonder where-Sakura-San is?’ Hinata wondered as the clock continued to tick.

_________________________________________________

Kakashi hadn’t exactly been disappointed or impressed with his little Genin so far.

He’d seen Sasuke arrive early, start scouting and setting traps, which was good.

He’d then returned to the training field and given a polite greeting to Hinata, not bad given the jockeying for influence of their clans. But apparently he neglected to tell his teammate about the traps before hopping into a mother gifted sleeping bag to get some rest.

‘He really is a kid, so irresponsible,’ It was almost cute, ‘If not for the fact I now need to make sure his teammates don’t get accidentally skewered.’

Hinata had apparently used her free time to scratch, do some kata and was apparently now at a loss, pressed up against a training log trying not to get too cold. The word apparently was rather necessary, given the girl was so twitchy she activated her bloodline on instinct, forcing Kakashi to rely on some of his ninken posing as strays to know what was happening.

“The girls so flighty,” Pakkun had grunted.

“She seems fearful,” Ubei chided him.

Kakashi just hummed in thought and turned his attention to his last student, allegedly a teachers pet, who was now running well over two and a half hours late.

‘You’re a bit too young to be trying to work out my schedule, Haruno-Chan,’ He mused with a smirk. But before he could take off to startle the girl awake and start the morning off right, his eyewas drawn to a blurry head of pink rushing towards the training field.

‘Hmm, shadows under her eyes, and gods, what are they feeding girls these days, twigs? Because she looks like one,’ He thought.

Before she was in eyesight of her team Kakashi oh so casually body flickered behind her and called, “Yo.”

The girl bit back a screech and spun around, watching him wide eyed before bowing, “I’m so sorry I’m late sensei!”

Kakashi didn’t answer and watched tension slowly gather across her frame, when it became clear she’d neither stop bowing or speak he finally gave in.

“Its fine, I’m just arriving myself, seeing as I had to track down a wayward student,” he said with some humor.

The girl swallowed, and bowed deeper, “So sorry Kakashi-Sensei, it won’t happen again!”

“What won’t happen again?” He pried.

“Me being late, sensei,” She assured.

‘Is she just not getting I want her to explain herself or... No, let’s just move on,’ he decided, before his paranoid mind went down the wrong track.

“Well, you only need to worry about that if you pass,” He said, bonking her head with his book, “Now come along.”

“Yes, Sensei!”

_________________________________________________

Sasuke dashed back into his safe haven, the multi-layered array of traps and alarms near the very heart of the forest, heart racing, chest burning.

‘I thought he couldn’t see me from his blindside, not with that stupid book!’

Stupid, he’d been stupid, a Jounin would have more than their mere eyes to detect an attack coming. It was only luck, mercy or his foresight in setting up traps that let him escape pursuit when Kakashi-Sensei was held up by a wave of shuriken cutting off his pursuit.

‘Still, this works, this can work, he’s under attack, if this was a mission he’d want to take out the pursuer rather than risk being snuck up on so...’

His heart dropped as he entered the heart of his traps and saw them lying broken and ruined.

“Are you surprised?” A familiar voice intoned, drawing a sharp gasp from Ssuke as he shot around to see his brother leaning up against a tree.

“Just because you scouted an area early doesn’t mean you weren’t being observed, careless, little brother-”

“You’re a Genjutsu!” He snapped, losing a wave of shuriken and flexing his Chakra as he leapt back.

Leapt back right into one of his evidently not broken traps and soon found himself dragged into a tree with a screech and pressed against it with a wave of ninja wire in equal short order.

Kakashi-Sensei chuckled as he stepped out from behind the tree and patted his cheek, “Not a bad attempt but retreating in a panic never works out.” He shot Sasuke a sharper glance, the kind that made one freeze on the spot as he added, harsher and sharper, “Be happy I only disabled the other traps, you could have hurt your comrades.”

With that, the man vanished in a puff of smoke leaving Sasuke bound to a tree, upside down and stewing in embarrassment.

A twitch, a flex, and a wiggle followed.

‘At least its not as tight as it could be,’ he thought, grateful he’d planned on catching an adult ninja and primed the trapped properly.

The Jounin’s ominous warning ran circles in his head as Sasuke began the arduous process of wriggling loose.

_________________________________________________

Hinata’s Byakugan activated at the sound of a scream. The sudden flood of Chakra laden images and so much visual stimuli barely registered.

Her focus centered on Sakura-San for a moment, but saw the girl was fine and looking in the same direction as Hinata, several paper tags in hand.

Stretching her senses further with practices ease, Hinata saw Kakashi-Sensei leaving Sasuke-San pinned to a tree and leaping into the tree tops.

‘I... I should help him, shouldn’t I, or maybe I mean... This is a contest but... Now I definitely-’

Hinata’s thought processes froze as she saw Kakashi-Sensei bypass Sakura-San entirely and blur towards her.

Jaw working like the bones were grinding cement she tried to steel herself, shaking as she fell into a stance, Chakra gathering in her palm, the air swirling, she murmured, “Vacuum Fist,” and thrust her palm forward.

A swirling plane of air and Chakra surged forward, tore through the trees and shot right passed Kakashi-Sensei as he ducked below the trees and swung his way to the ground before herm sending her reeling back.

“Well, I suppose its only natural to test a Hyuga in Taijutsu...” He hummed with amusement, “But I’m not much for tradition, and Chakra is Chakra after all.”

Hinata could see the Chakra in his hands and throat gather, the air around him thrumming and swirling as his hands flashed through signs and she flung herself forward.

Only to crash against a barrier of wind that buffeted and blasted her back, not too violently, carrying as much as it pushed btu sending her tumbling through the overgrowth.

Well practice as recovering from being hurled around, Hinata rolled with the blow, skidded to a stop and with a burst of Chakra from her feet avoided the next air wave.

She zigged and zagged in a desperate bid to get close enough that the Chakra around her palms could maybe grab hold of a bell when-

“Aah!”

The ground below her turned to mud that suddenly writhed and swirled, dragging her down into the earth before hardening around her.

“Pretty good,:” Kakashi-Sensei commended, but Hinata could barely hear him over the thought of how angry people would be if she made a mess.

A long spindly hand patted her on the head, forcing her attention to Kaashi-Sensei, “Did you hear me?”

“N- No, ah, sorry Sensei, I- I-”

The man stood back and with a flash of hand signs Hinata surged upwards and stumbled to her feet, somehow miraculously clean of mud and grimed as she awkwardly fell against Kakashi-Sensei.

It only occurred to her after she felt two fingers press against her neck that she could have tried to grab a bell. Instead her last thought before collapsing was the grateful realization that even if she failed, at least it wasn’t compounded by being dirty.

___________________________________________

‘Two startled cries in ten minutes, that’s... Probably not good,’ Sakura thought.

Her chest coiled uncomfortably at the thought, but after already being late she couldn’t risk upsetting her sensei again!

‘Still, Hinata sounded so scared,’ a part of her whispered.

Swallowing it back, she clenched her special kunai tightly, the tags attached brushing against her skin as she carefully had her scattered Bunshin all mimic her motions.

All the warning she got of an attack was a blur of silver flickering through the forest and the sound of puffing smoke as the illusion was shattered.

The tingling terror in her spine was offset by instinct at the sign of a threat and Sakura lashed out, the kunai was too late and embedded itself on a tree.

There was another pop, another Kunai, another and-

“You know when your illusionary knives don’t make a sound it doesn’t take much to determine your direction.”

The voice appeared from behind her and Sakura snapped out with a kick, the kunai strapped to her sandal glinting in the light as Kakashi-Sensei easily weaved around it.

“Creative,” he chuckled, easily dodging Sakura’s final Kunai as he approached her with a casual air, looming and powerful and-

Sakura's hand flashed through the signs and her Chakra pulsed, ‘Fūbaku Hōjin!’

There was a momentary flash of surprise on Kakashi’s-Sensei’s face as his movements stilled.

Sakura took it and leapt for the bells.

___________________________________________

Kakashi felt the trap springing but was stilled for but a moment by shock as one singular thought ran through his head.

‘When did the academy start teaching Jutsu-Shiki!?’

It didn’t last however, the Sealed Binding Formation was one Kakashi had tested himself against in years long passed and so he knew the weaknesses.

Because as Sakura leapt the binding energy abated, just enough that he could easily flick a kunai out and tear the paper bearing the technique on one of the kunai, freeing him just as her fingers brushed the bells.

Kakashi gave a light chop to Sakura’s neck and sent her down to the ground.

“Gr... arg...”

“Oh still awake,” He cooed, pulling one of her kunai from a tree. The Jutsu was collaborative in nature, without the user maintain the flow of Chakra it faded too quickly to mean anything given the difference in their abilities.

‘A shame none of them have a mind for teamwork, this team has potential,’ he mused, weaving around Sakura’s frantic surprise attack and weaving around her more focused and ferocious follow through.

‘Crisp but she has no style besides the academy,’ He lashed out and landed a blow on her cheek. He felt her body tense up but then stop itself as she rolled with the blow and lessened its damage, leaving him ‘open’ for a hard left, or more, a hasty reach for the bells.

‘She must spar a lot,’ he assumed. catching her hand and lazily tossing her over his head and into a tree.

Her frantic screeching and scrambling to leap out at him against was amusing and the wave of Bunshin following in her wake was, if nothing else, cute.

‘Leaf Whirlwind,’ he thought, delivering a shar, sweeping kick and loosing a wave of wind that launched his student back while obliterating her illusions.

As Sakura tried to pull herself together, Kakashi shot back to the three trees still holding tags and flickered back over to Sakura, gagging as she tried to catch her breath while curled up in some bushes.

She looked up at him with wide frightened eyes and without a care he loosed the tagged Kunai, makin her clutch her head and drop down small.

hand flicking through the Monkey, Horse, Dog and Ram seals he pushed out the last of her Chakra from the seals and filled them with his own, leaving Sakura frozen as she tried to run and cower at the same time, body quivering and rebelling against nothing even as it remained trapped mid motion.

“So,” He said, maybe more harshly than intended, “Where’d you learn to make these?” Because unusual skills from someone with no background for it was worth at least a little suspicion.

Eyes flickering around madly, Sakura’s jaw slowly unhinged and began to work, “I- I figured them out, Sensei, no one helped me.”

Steeling his gaze he tapped one of the tagged kunai, “Wrong answer.”

“I- I mean it Sensei, I’m sorry I-”

Kakashi let his head lol back, “I’m not angry,” He said slowly, trying to stress it but that only seemed to make the girl warier, “I just need to know because these kind of techniques can be risky to experiment with alone.”

The girl swallowed and slowly spoke, “I, I did figure bits and piece out, I copied seals that were sold in shops and made my own. I, I did ask Iruka-Sensei and Ino-Chan for help, they could only show me pictures of Fuinjutsu and a Juinjutsu they had. But, But I got some theory with those and just.. treated it like a language with Chakra....”

“... All right then” He said blandly.

“A- All right?”

“All right,” with that he turned and strode away, leaving the girl trapped by her own Jutsu work, “Try again after morning tea.”

The girls eyes widened as his jutsu slacked and she was freed and the timer rang out through the training ground

_______________________________________

“You, Sasuke endangered your squamates with reckless use of traps they might not see, there’s no point to being on a squad if you’re going to endanger your comrades, you’d be better off as a civilian!”

“Sakura, you heart both Sasuke and Hinata get into trouble but just kept selfishly pursuing your own goal at everyone else’s expense, how can anyone rely on a teammate like that!?”

“Hinata, you had the awareness and abilities to help your squamates, but you refused to act on it, an indecisive ninja will get themselves and their allies killed.”

Their heads hung low, Sasuke’s teeth ground against each other as he pulled at grass. Sakura’s entire body was knotted with tension, nearly shaking. Hinata looked about ready to start crying.

The Jounin leaned back with a sigh, “I’ll give you one last chance to prove you can work as a team. But you’ll need your energy, so I have two meals here.” He dangled the bento from a string and added, “Which means one of you goes hungry and is tied to a post, but ah, which one.”

Sasuke looked ready to jump in but of all of them Hinata beat him to the punch, “I- I will do it sensei, I, ah, I had a large dinner, an, I uh, don’t need much energy to use my skills.”

A bald faced lie, but Kakashi took it, passing off the bento and binding Hinata to the training stump, far more gently than he really needed to. The girl was shaking like a leaf.

“With that, I leave you too it, try and plan something out that won’t disappoint me.”

With that he let the Genjutsu settle over their mind and propped himself up behind Hinata’s training stump, listening to the sound of bento popping open and chopsticks clinking as two Genin readied to eat.

However his two free students stilled, unable to quite tear their eyes away from the quivering Hyuga.

“It- Its fine, please, eat,” Hinata whispered.

Sakura’s body was quaking, “This... Isn’t right...” She whispered, nearly hissed to herself.

Sasuke scowled at his food like it was dirty and muttered, “What he was saying... About the stone and...”

Asif sparked by the same thought, the pair thrust their lunchboxes at Hinata who lurched back as if in fear.

“Yo- You’ll get in trouble,” She whispered.

“Its not fair to let you starve, Hinata-Chan, I won’t allow it,” Sakura said insistently.

“You can use your Byakugan to be on the look out anyway,” Sasuke added.

“Oh actually, I have something else,” Sakura said, fumbling with a satchel on her belt and pulling it free to reveal a small black container with a sealed cap. “This is a watered down version of the Soldier Pill, it will top me up for the rest of the day, I use these for late night study sessions and stuff.”

Sasuke made an “ah” sound and said, “So Hinata drinks that and we trick Kakashi-Sensei into thinking she hasn’t eaten?”

Sakura shook her head, “Ah, no, I am not sure its a great idea to try this out on other people. It took me awhile to get used to the surge and especially the taste, but I can scull this and Hinata can have my meal.”

Hinata looked so grateful and terrified she might have cried then and there.

“Th- Thank you. I do- I don’t deserve this.”

“Your our teammate,” Sakura said softly, offering the girl a bite of her meal.

“We look out for each other,” Sasuke added, “Can you activate your eyes?”

“Ah, yes I-...”

Kakashi dropped the Genjutsu and before Hinata could do anything more than let out a terrified eep, cut her free.

“You guys...”

The three Genin fell into together, some mix of shocked, terrified and defensive.

“Pass!”

To see the words hit their ears, slowly register and see the ensuing wave of confusion elation and relaxation wash over them as they crashed to the ground was quite an amusing sight.

For his part, Kakashi felt like he was on auto pilot, because he passed a team, a team actually passed his test and... He’d honestly never prpeared himself for that, he didn’t have the emotional capacity to process it right now, because he had a team and that was... A lot.

Fortunately it was easy enough to kill the rest of the day by buying them lunch and doing some light sparring, testing affinities, all that stuff he could do without thinking too much. As the evening sun began setting, he glanced to the Hokage monument and shrugged, “Well, I need to register you all officially as my Genin team, meet back here tomorrow at six and we begin taking missions.”

He was surprised to see only Sasuke looked relieved at the later starting time, but he could focus on that later, right now, he had something else in mind.

Hovering on the edge of awareness he watched his little Genin split up to head to their homes and the moment Sasuke and Hinata were out of sightm he watched Sakura double back to the training ground to start training.

‘Guilt about being late maybe?’

Or her overworking herself because she didn’t know her own limits. Kakashi decided for now that was more likely and popped down next to her, drawing a muted shriek of shock and watched her fall into a protective stance before easing up at the sight of him.

“Kakashi-Sensei?”

“Mah, Sakura-Chan, when Sensei declares training over, that means I think you hit your limit, go home and rest,” He said simply.

The girl swallowed and nodded slowly, “Sorry Sensei.”

He waved her off, falling in at her side as she began a slow shuffle home and spoke, this time his tone sharper than he may have needed.

“Sakura-Chan, I got the impression you weren’t using all the Shiki-Jutsu you may know today.”

The girl blanched and hastily said, “No Sensei, I swear this is all I figured out.”

“Mhm,” He waved the watered down soldier formula she had on her person, having snatched it drawing a gasp from the girl. “And nothing else like these?”

“I..”

“Haruno, do not lie to me,” The girl practically crumpled, head low, shoulders curling in on herself as if to look small.

“Sorry Sensei. I... I do have some others, but I’m not sure I can se them, ah, very well yet, I can show you it though, if you want.”

“So long as you know not to endanger yourself or your teammates with this study, I’ll let it slide for now, but I want you to go over the Genin’s guide for these subjects and some similar safety measures. Understand?”

“Yes Sensei, I won’t disappoint you,” Sakura said promptly.

Giving her a light pat on the head, because that worked with dogs so why not kids, he said, “Good, until I know what you know and don’t now, no more experiments.”

“Yes Sensei,” She said softly and it was there he left her, with a final ruffle of her pink locks.

_______________________________________

In the Hokage’s office, Kakashi found himself being laughed at, in a friendly way.

“I can’t believe it, you passed a team, haha, this is great!” Howled the Hokage.

“Mah, is it really such an event?” He said.

The woman smirked, “You just won Mikoto-Chan and I a lot of money, so yeah, this is a good day. How about Ichiraku’s my treat?”

Kakashi shrugged, “My schedules free, Kushina-Neechan.”

[fuckyeahkosukeniwa]

Of all the times to forget what he was supposed to do!

The chattering crowd pressed against him on all sides, making the summer heat positively boiling. Not many seemed to mind; their eager eyes turned upwards, waiting for the man of the hour to make his dramatic appearance. Yellow police tape separated them from the nervous officers, clutching their radios and holding their breath like everyone else.

Only one head of spiky black hair looked down. Kosuke searched his empty pockets for any clue about his role in tonight's heist. Emiko and her father wouldn't have sent him out here without a plan.

The mass of people let out a roar of cheers. Dark was here already!?

Kosuke pushed his way to the side of the crowd, only taking one elbow to the face in the process, and took in a clearer view of the museum lawn where some officers remained outside, possibly waiting to catch Dark during his escape. Rounding the side of the building, he saw more, as well as flash of black over by...

"Hey you! Stop!"

Kosuke let go of the police tape he'd crawled under and ran towards the building, eyes finally looking up to where he knew the thief had climbed out a darkened window. Dark's black wings seemed to be struggling to get any lift; any second now, he'd fall to the ground and be a sitting duck. If the officers' flashlights didn't reveal him first.

Three uniformed men stood before him, blinding flashlights pointed at Kosuke's face. He could see the light of two others from behind. They grabbed his arms and dragged him back towards the police tape.

"Ah! I'm so sorry! I just wanted to get a better look! G—guess I got lost!" He tried to smile, raising his shaking hands and praying they couldn't hear his heart pounding. Just a regular guy from the crowd who got too excited. Please don't turn around. Please ignore Dark crawling in the bushes along the museum.

Kosuke stumbled away, legs turned to jelly by the relief, once they had returned him to the "civilian" area and let him go with a harsh warning. He held a hand to his chest as he walked, fingers gripping the fabric of his loose t-shirt once or twice. That had been a close call for Daisuke! And himself.

But it was his fault he'd forgotten what to do and screwed things up in the first place.

Kosuke glanced behind and around him. No officers in pursuit, mercifully. No landmarks that rang a bell either. Azumano was a labyrinth of a district in Tokyo, and wandering into unexplored territory wasn't unheard of. Yet he thought he should at least recognize the areas around museums...

Stopping under a streetlight and looking ridiculously lost, Kosuke glanced around him once more as if the unfamiliar signs and buildings would confess the route home. Before he could continue, a black figure jumped from above, landing silently on the concrete sidewalk and stealing an alarmed shout from Kosuke.

"Dark! Where did you—" A gloved figure covered his mouth.

"Geez, could you be any louder?"

Dark could imitate any voice he wanted, even a feminine one like this, but the hand on his face was surprisingly small.

Kosuke nodded, mutely promising to be quieter. The figure waited a couple seconds, probably not trusting those curious brown eyes, before backing up. Under the light of a white streetlight stood a tall smear of black.

"Emiko-san!?"

The figure's red eyes widened. Before he could blink, she had dragged him into a nearby alley and released him just as suddenly, catching his arm with a sigh before he fell into a puddle. Once he seemed to fully regain his balance, the tight grip on his arm disappeared, and Kosuke resisted the urge to rub the dull ache left behind.

"You got it right the first time, genius. No need to keep guessing." A proud grin spread across "Dark's" lips.

Those sparkling red eyes, an uncommon color around here—in fact, he'd never seen anyone but his own family members with it—had looked overly familiar under the streetlight, but the dim alley illuminated just enough to take in the rest of her.

Save for the eyes, she looked nothing like Emiko. Her hair was long and straight, dark strands trailing loosely down her back. The woman's face was slimmer as well, with sharp cheekbones Emiko could only emulate through her more time-intensive disguises.

Maybe this was one of her disguises to distract the police from Daisuke? His hand touched his chin in thought; that didn't make sense.

But she still reminded him of Emiko and not at all.

A shiny black coat covered her shoulders, held together by a shinier chain on the front, with the sleeves loosely flying at her sides. Black gloves covered her hands, but her thin, muscular arms remained bare. A tight shirt hemmed with lace barely supported her big—

Kosuke jerked his eyes away, cheeks on fire.

Enough staring! He was a married man!

"Got nothing to say now?" She leaned closer, and he stepped back, sweating again from the summer heat. Probably.

"E—Excuse me! I mistook you for someone else! I should go... now," he answered with a shaking finger pointing towards the alley's exit.

"Really? Don't get all shy. You seemed more than a little interested in me earlier." Gloved fingers tapped the statue under her arm, a reminder of his antics at the heist.

Kosuke couldn't even begin to find an acceptable way to explain he'd mistaken her for his son.

"I was lost." His stiff shrug and wincing eyes did nothing to impress the thief.

Dark looked up at the stars and back down at him, eyebrows nearly disappearing into her hairline with flat disbelief. But Kosuke kept his lips shut, knowing from experience, a lot of it, that more words would just make his pathetic lies worse.

"Sure," she smiled eventually, a wide, feline thing. "Try not to get lost on your way home!" With that she disappeared into the sky, leaving a flurry of black feathers in her wake.

He fanned one of the tickling things out of his face as he watched the mysterious woman fly away, his mouth open in silent awe. He'd seen Daisuke and Dark fly many times, even did it himself once with With; the former memories were much more enjoyable than the latter. It was a sight he enjoyed from the ground, evidence of the ancient magic in the Niwas' blood.

Down the empty streets, Kosuke continued to turn the strange encounter with this new Dark over in his mind.

He got lost after all.

With no money for a payphone to call his wife or father, Kosuke settled for a secluded bench under a tree in the park. It was nostalgic, he thought as he laid down on the hard, bumpy wood. At least the season kept the nights warm, albeit stickily humid.

Over a decade of travels had made sleeping outdoors a common occurrence for him, and yet less than two years at home seemed to have already spoiled him. As he closed his eyes, he prayed he'd wake up and see Emiko sleeping beside him in their bed again.

Morning brought with it dew and a clearer head instead.

He shook the moisture out of his hair. A couple leaves and a twig fell out as well.

Kosuke wandered around town wearing the same clothes as the day before and wishing he could bathe. At least he wasn't too hungry; the previous day's excitement must have killed any appetite.

Azumano's streets were timeless, a testament to the artistic traditions that built it centuries ago. The people, however... Kosuke scanned the buildings that he passed, recognizing only half of the businesses. Half of those he vaguely remembered seeing once, before he'd ever left the country.

The sound of running behind him shattered any focus. At a dozen or so "Niwa-san!"s he whipped his head around in terror, just in time to see Emiko latch onto his arm with a hushed "Quick, pretend you're my boyfriend!"

The group of men shouting and calling their name nearly shoved each other out of the way to reach the couple first. Anything else they said was buried by their own din.

This seemed vaguely familiar too...

"I already told you all, I have a boyfriend!" Emiko spoke loud enough to reach their ears and sweetly enough to hold their devoted attention. Her arm wrapped tighter around Kosuke's for emphasis. "I'm sure you'll find someone else that's right for you. Bye!"

With one last dazzling wave—causing a chorus of lovestruck sighs—she dragged a stunned Kosuke down the street and away from the commotion. He finally looked at her, the bouncing red hair from her college days spilling over her shoulders. She wore a smart skirt that swished around her knees.

This was like... the first time they met.

Except there was no train station. And Dark was a gorgeous woman who dragged Kosuke into alleyways.

Could Dark actually be...?

Emiko still clung to his arm and weaved with him around fellow pedestrians on the sidewalk. He tried to focus each step and not his unkempt appearance or the warm tingling running up his limb... especially not the jealous eyes that stabbed daggers into his back.

After they rounded a corner and escaped the sight of her pursuers, she released him with chuckled thanks. Finally he could let out his own breath; no one else would ogle the strange couple's display of affection. Even as his racing heart began to settle, he rolled his now-freed wrist with no small amount of regret.

He'd missed Emiko.

He still missed his Emiko.

But maybe this one could explain what the hell had happened to him! His mind had already run through the possibilities from artwork malfunctions to head injuries, but he could use an expert's opinion.

"Emiko-san, why are you—"

"You know," she interrupted, nose lifted into the air as she walked briskly beside him. "We've never met before, but you're being pretty forward with me." Her serious red eyes met his surprised brown ones.

Kosuke tripped on a raised slab in the sidewalk, probably drawing back the attention of nosy passersby. Nervous energy bubbled from head to toe. "Please excuse me! I didn't mean to— I apologize, Niwa-san."

Emiko's face cracked into a bright smile, as breathtaking as ever but younger than he'd seen in a long time, "Tell me your name, and I might forgive you."

"Ni-" Her brows raised. Shit. That was a strong habit. "Kosuke. My name is Kosuke."

"Kosuke-san." She tested the name, finger on her lips in thought. His heart stung, remembering their real first meeting. He'd stumbled his way through that too, more shy than accidentally rude.

"I changed my mind; you can call me Emiko-san!"

Kosuke nodded, his throat unusually tight. He didn't know how else to respond. This wasn't whom he hoped to find. And yet this was Emiko, without a doubt.

"Don't tell my boyfriend about earlier, by the way!" she said with a conspiratorial wink.

Boyfriend!?

"I—" Kosuke coughed into a fist and let his eyes explore the street they walked down. People filtered in and out of shops, walking down the street hand in hand or bumping past each other in a rush. Azumano on the weekend brimmed with energy. More than a few conversations weighed in on Dark's heist last night. "I didn't know you actually had a boyfriend."

He wondered if the other man had been waiting to meet her when the crowd took chase. He wondered what he was like. How did they meet? Had he promised to father her phantom thief son?

But it wasn't his place to pry. And it probably wouldn't help the cold weight sinking from his throat to his stomach.

He and Emiko were strangers now. Somehow. Of course she'd find someone else.

No questions were necessary as she seemed more than happy to rave about her boyfriend anyway.

He was a great catch, she explained. Handsome and the youngest of four brothers. He was doting but gave her plenty of space. And being a taken woman meant other suitors wouldn't bother her... as much!

Her hands waved in excitement as she described their latest date on a ferry. He'd gone all out for a romantic dinner on the water. He clearly made her happy.

"Are you alright?" Curiosity replaced that happiness when she looked at him, and his shoulders dropped with guilt. Get it together, man.

"Yes, sorry. I was wondering..." Should he really ask it? Here? He'd spent a good chunk of the previous night burning with questions, and she had just raised a few more. If she really was the current Niwa heiress... "Does he know? About you and... uh..."

"Who?" She tilted her head, wavy hair flowing along with the movement.

Men and women on the sidewalk paused to look at the beautiful redhead walking past them. Kosuke ducked his head and leaned forward to whisper the thief's name in her ear. He still hadn't gotten used to the attention his wife attracted. Well, not his wife anymore...

Kosuke pulled away, his face's color the same as her hair, aware too late that he stood far too close to a woman who was not his wife.

"Sorry, that wasn't— Please excuse me again." He apologized a lot lately, didn't he?

Eyes that had once been innocently wide narrowed to match her sharp smirk. They approached at the next intersection in silence, where at once she turned onto a street with fewer people. Boxes replaced pedestrians in front of late-night noodle restaurants whose lights waited until evening for hungry salarymen. And perhaps phantom thieves.

"He doesn't know," she said matter-of-factly, eyes closed and nose raised in the air again.

"You're not going to deny it?" Kosuke gaped. Their son denied being Dark to the moon and back with everyone he met!

At that thought, his heart ached again. He missed someone who didn't even exist here...

"Why should I? It's not like anyone who matters would believe you." She wasn't wrong.

"Do you plan to tell him?"

"Is that really any of your business?" A red eyebrow raised again. "Do you interrogate every woman you meet?"

His two hands raised in front of him, and Kosuke almost apologized once more but she cut him off with a laugh. With a couple skips, she moved ahead and twirled around, hair bouncing along a second later. The hot sunlight caught the red waves, sparkling almost orange.

Emiko continued walking backwards so Kosuke continued forward, glancing ahead in case he needed to warn her of curbs or other obstacles on the sidewalk. She easily hopped around or over them before he could open his mouth. She was showing off and it was working.

"If I tell him, I can't be Dark anymore," she answered his previous question and stuffed her hands into her skirt's pockets.

"Because he might accept both of you?" Kosuke knew that Daiki had missed Dark when he left, but he had assumed it was something inevitable if not desirable.

"Not only that. He probably would though." Pink lips split into a happy smile. "On the off-chance that he doesn't accept, how else will I become Dark?"

"Can't you find someone new?" He cringed at his quick question. It wasn't like he was hoping to sweep in for the rebound—

"Oh? Are you volunteering, Kosuke-san?"

It really wasn't like that! He slapped his forehead while she pointed at his flushed cheeks and laughed.

Kosuke raised his searching eyes to the blue sky before returning them to her. One more thing. "I thought only men in the Niwa clan could become," he lowered his voice, "Dark?" She might not mind, but he was unused to discussing the family curse in the open air.

"You seem to know a lot about this." Her gaze took on a familiar shrewdness, the look she often wore when planning for the next heist or designing trap blueprints.

"I—" Kosuke stammered. He had been overly comfortable around her from the start, too used to relying on her shrewdness, not outmaneuvering it. "I'm just a researcher." It was his turn to shove his hands into his pockets.

Emiko hopped over to walk beside him again, leaning to see his down-turned face.

"Don't worry so much. I said it didn't matter." She winked. "Besides, you obviously don't know everything. Ladies make just as good thieves as the gentlemen!"

They reached the next intersection too soon, and Emiko bid him another dazzling goodbye while his head was still spinning with new information.

This wasn't exactly the world he remembered. Kosuke glanced around. This part of town wasn't what he remembered either.

By the time he found his way back to the park, the sun had begun to set. Kosuke settled on a bench in a different wooded area, hoping no policeman would find him tonight either.

Another warm night turned into another warm morning.

Kosuke didn't know how he lucked out—chalk it up to the odd jobs a researcher sometimes does for information in remote towns—but he found work and an apartment to stay in. Nothing fancy or spacious, a mere 4.5-tatami room, but there'd be no more beetles crawling up his shirt in the dead of night!

One advanced paycheck later, and he put food in his stomach for the first time in days. The bland steamed buns might as well have been a gourmet meal.

With a sigh of relief, he ran a hand through his newly-washed hair and put on a green apron. This shop owner deserved the best shelver he could be after so generously hiring him under the table. Going to Emiko's house and explaining the situation to her and her father was out of the question, but having no ID put most sources of income out of reach.

This small international grocery, wedged between a ramen shop and a sign-maker's business, was packed to the ceiling with colorful goods in dozens of languages he recognized but mostly couldn't read. Boxes filled the cramped aisles and nearly covered the lights on the ceiling, adding up to a hot and, most importantly, private atmosphere.

Kosuke had to admit, being only a street away from a museum was a huge plus as well.

Maybe he could ask an artwork in there for help. Or he could learn more about pieces that had been "disposed of" or left the country before his research for Daisuke had begun. If he ever returned home, this information could be useful!

As he cut open boxes and pulled out various bags of dried noodles, heavier thoughts nagged at him. What if he never returned home? What should he do about Emiko and Phantom Thief Dark? Did he need to do anything? She was happy here. Wasn't it better to live her dream like this, instead of devoting herself to finding a husband and raising a son to live it instead?

The plastic bags crunched and crinkled as he aligned them by shape and ingredients. He understood why she had worked so hard to raise Daisuke to be a thief. On their third date, she'd told him tales of her father's exploits, magic blood, and the sudden loss of her mother. He'd given her a handkerchief again, this time to wipe her eyes.

Niwa Emiko never cried tears of sadness; tears of joy, yes, she was a fountain of joy, but nothing could bring this talented beauty down— Or so he had heard adoring young men sigh in train stations she frequented.

Crying beside him on a park bench, she looked nothing like the unreachable mystery he'd admired for over a year. Niwa Emiko had reasons and dreams of her own, as well as a heart that reached out to help others even when it couldn't help itself. Maybe it was then he knew for sure he wanted to marry her.

How could he have resisted? She was brilliant and kind, often ridiculous with her over-the-top antics, but also awe-inspiring and sometimes frightening. He had wanted to spend his life uncovering every side of this surprising woman.

Kosuke cut another box, this one filled with shiny tins of strange teas and their strong odors. If a customer walked past, they might laugh at the sappy smile on this shelver's face. He remembered how proud their son made her each time he avoided deadly traps or brought home a treasure.

He missed his family with a piercing ache that grew each time he woke. It was his years of traveling all over again, but this time there was no easy road home. No Emiko waiting for him either. And yet...

And yet.

The boxy television by the cash register crackled out news from an excited journalist. Phantom Thief Dark announced her next target! Police were already preparing for the 9 PM heist! The latest artwork to catch her eye seemed to be—

Kosuke started and hid when the shop owner spotted him peering around the corner of his aisle, trying to catch a glimpse of the television screen.

He plunged into the next box with gusto, fighting back a guilty blush at being caught slacking. His ears reached for any information over the noisy bags of sweets in his hands.

Dark would be in the Lagalith Museum tonight! Just a street away!

The rest of the day passed in a haze, with endless restocking as waves of customers shopped. He'd only mistakenly pointed someone to the wrong aisle twice. Like a library, every product had a proper place; he just had to learn where.

Hanging his apron on a hook in the back room and thanking the shop owner, Kosuke stepped out of the building without a plan.

Emiko—no, Dark's heist wouldn't start for another hour. His stomach wasn't thrilled by the idea of dinner, but why? She was a professional thief, she'd be fine! Did he just want to see her again? What would he say?

His traitorous feet brought him to the yellow police tape in front of the building. A sizable crowd of journalists and Dark's most dedicated fans had already formed. He thought he saw a woman in plainclothes with long blue hair among the officers at the entrance of the museum, but the people shoving around him were too big a distraction.

In the end, Kosuke didn't speak with Dark.

He sweated along with the rest of the civilians, watching in awe as the sleek black figure flew through the sky on magnificent wings. He smiled, impressed as always, when she disappeared from sight. He held his breath when alarm bells rang out within the museum, imagining Dark dashing around and over officers, laughing triumphantly as she juggled a priceless vase between her gloved hands before escaping from a balcony into the night sky. All that remained of her visit was a confetti of black feathers over the area.

Kosuke stared up at the dark blue, stars invisible with all the searchlights around, long after the rest of the crowd dispersed. The excitement of the night's event thrummed in his veins as he climbed the stairs to his apartment. All the while, one thought replayed in his mind: Emiko was a phantom thief!

A damn good one.

Aside from the night he first met Emiko's Dark, she handled each heist masterfully, mocking the desperate security guards that always grabbed too slowly.

Each night he visited a different museum to watch her fly. Some close enough to his side of town to walk to, while for others he'd hop on a train and arrive halfway to the end.

He didn't know how, but Emiko found his workplace throughout this. She stopped by to browse, sometimes in disguise—and who would have guessed? A heist at the Lagalith Museum was announced later that day!—and stayed to talk. She would hold up any bottle of sauce or snack and teasingly ask him to translate or recommend one. If his boss minded at first, it was quickly smoothed over by Emiko's sweet flattery and shining personality.

Kosuke suspected her beauty brought in more customers too, but he kept that theory to himself.

She always left with an energetic wave and a stunning smile. Sometimes she threw him a wink and a "See you later!". His own waving hand lingered in the air afterwards, dizzied by the speed with which this woman came and went.

More than a few customers asked if she was single or, more disbelievingly, dating him. Kosuke had to explain each time that she was taken, but not by him. He wondered when she'd introduce him to her boyfriend but didn't look forward to it and didn't ask. The shelves ended up organized to perfection on days with those wonderings.

After a day with no visit from Emiko, Kosuke slowly hung up his apron and walked into the summer air. Orange light from the setting sun cast deep blue shadows on half the street. He sought some relief from the endless heat in them. As he stepped down the curb to cross the intersection to his apartment, a strong hand dragged him sideways.

"Emiko got a bit too flustered earlier so it's my turn to have fun."

"Da—" Her hand covered his mouth, the soft skin, with a few callouses on the fingertips, pressed into his suddenly already overwarm face. Kosuke reviewed the turn of events in his swirling mind.

Emiko had mentioned going out somewhere with her boyfriend this week... Ah. Kosuke wasn't sure how to feel about her date being interrupted by the Niwa love genes.

He jumped back and she lifted her hands into the air with a gentle smile. Making peace?

"You got some place to be?" He tilted her head to the side, loose black hair following in a silk wave. She almost looked out of place in Emiko's bright clothes and a cutesy purse covered in rabbit keychains dangling from her arm.

"No, I just..." Why was it so hard to speak to this woman? She was Emiko, wasn't she? Or a part of her... "I was just going home."

He bowed and started to turn around, heart rate still not settled after the exciting abduction by the thief.

"And what, you can't talk to me first?" Her lean arms crossed under her breasts, which were slightly too big for her flowery dress and— and anyway—

Kosuke shook his head, eyes flitting up and down the street in case they caused a scene. It was mostly deserted. "No. I— I mean, yes, I can talk! Is here okay? Ah, or should we..."

She rested her weight on one leg, the hem of her dress swinging around her bare knees, and said nothing when he trailed off. Kosuke rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortable with the scrutiny... and everything else about this situation.

"What do you want to talk about?" he asked lamely, losing out to her mocking patience.

"You pick!" Dark rolled her eyes in exasperation. "You show up at every one of my heists, but when I finally give you the time of day, you run away! What's your deal?"

Why did he go to all her heists?

On days when he didn't participate, Kosuke had been content to watch Daisuke's criminal activities from the couch with his father-in-law. He knew Daisuke and Dark were an incredible team, but—call it fatherly instinct—he'd spent each of their heists wondering if this would be the night it all went wrong. His family could take care of themselves and had backup plans for everything; he knew that, but he worried all the while, useless on the couch.

He didn't worry about this Dark in front of him, on the other hand. She'd proven to be an amazing thief. So why?

"I'm not sure," Kosuke said, feeling more and more foolish.

"Maybe you were hoping to see me again?" Her predatory grin moving closer would have made Kosuke flush if blood weren't already draining out of his face. Emiko could be listening to their conversation!

Dark must have figured out his feelings for Emiko. What if she told? Would that ruin the strange friendship they'd built?

Was there really no chance for something more? He managed to marry her in one lifetime already!

Another question replaced those, and Kosuke opened his mouth, hand hovering over his chin as he stared at Dark.

"What, Kosuke?" The name—his own wife had never said it so bluntly—broke the spell.

"Da— Sorry, uh, Miss?" From the corner of his eye, Kosuke watched a delivery boy on a bike ride past them on the street. "Why did you come here instead of staying with Emiko's boyfriend? Shouldn't you like him too?"

"She wasn't kidding when she said you were nosy as hell." She said that!?

That was an imprudent question anyway. Kosuke's hand rose and combed through his sticky hair. His apartment wouldn't be much cooler than the shade they stood in.

"Would you mind taking a walk with me? There's a great park nearby."

"If you promise to never call me Miss again. Go ahead and use my name if you have to."

Dark latched onto his arm and told him to lead the way, but with her fast pace, he swore the roles were reversed. As far as directions went, he'd point and say "We turn th—" and she swiftly pulled him that way.

Besides those words, they didn't talk during the journey. Dark wore a playful smile the entire time, and said nothing along the way. She was the opposite of Emiko's talkative sunniness, which was always ready to share a story or make small talk. As for him, he'd stuck his foot in his mouth enough today and kept it closed.

Kosuke eventually lost the blush spurred by Dark's body pressed against him. Once or twice he'd tried to subtly reclaim his stolen arm, but she didn't notice or didn't care.

"This is it?" she asked as they stepped onto the walkway that split the grass. "It doesn't look that great." The sun had only just set, covering everything from bushes to benches in darkening blue light.

"I come here a lot to think," Kosuke admitted. "I like how peaceful it is at night."

"Don't you spend enough time in your head as it is?" Dark teased, softly knocking his head with a fist. Kosuke laughed quietly, surprising himself.

"Probably. But it's what I'm best at." Reading, recalling information, taking notes, connecting dots. It had taken over fourteen years, but he could say he'd honed those skills at least.

Dark let go, stretching her long arms over her head. The fresh air on his own was chilly compared to the furnace of body heat from before.

They walked side by side in the growing darkness.

"What do you think about me?" She broke the silence sometime later.

Kosuke looked ahead, as far as he could see through the scattered trees. "... I don't know," he admitted again. He still didn't know how he felt about Daisuke's Dark. He was there. He was a mystery. He was a member of the family.

And she was...?

"Okay, well, this was an exciting date. I'm off to do something even more daring, like color-coding Emiko's socks! See you!" With popped out of her purse and transformed into huge black wings. Before Kosuke could say goodbye, the thief and rabbit lifted off into the sky, leaving him with nothing but an empty park.

After the confusing conversation with Dark, Kosuke mentioned his interest in researching artworks to Emiko on her next visit, offering to gather information on any pieces she owned or was interested in. She snickered and thanked him but did mention a painting she'd had her eye on. No special reason, she just wanted it.

That was enough for him. Kosuke buried himself in books in the various libraries around town, filling notebooks with information on each of Emiko's targets over the weeks.

Sometimes she snuck through the open window of his stuffy apartment to watch, catching the falling books from a tower he'd bumped into out of shock.

"You could use a bigger place to live."

"It's just me so it's fine." He reassured her each time.

He didn't mind, really.

In his heart, he was actually being rather selfish. Because, alone or not, it felt like home to help the Niwa family again. When he lost himself in the texts and histories, he could forget that this wasn't his old life anymore. The extra time with Emiko was a bonus he'd never turn down.

Sometimes he wondered if Emiko's boyfriend knew where she spent her time. Sometimes he wondered what the neighbors thought of the strange woman's voice that laughed and told loud stories in his room at all hours of the night, but whose owner was never seen walking in or out of a door.

Once, Emiko climbed through his window with her arms full of grocery bags. Paying no mind to his insistence that she was his guest to feed, she cooked them both dinner with a declaration that she needed the practice and he made a good guinea pig.

"So? How does it taste?"

They had spread his futon onto the floor and sat on it, plates in their laps for lack of a table or chairs. Kosuke's bamboo chopsticks poked at the overcooked chunks of meat and unevenly chopped vegetables. She wasn't kidding when she said she needed practice. Thieving must take up a lot of time that had been devoted to other hobbies, in another life.

But familiar flavors lingered on his tongue, red pepper and a hint of honey. He remembered many meals at home with these, and it was at once so dear and nostalgic, he could only nod.

"Come on, I need more than that!" Emiko nudged him with her elbow, dabbing her sweaty face with a towel at the same time. Even with an open window, two bodies and a countertop stove made a lot of heat in this small room!

Kosuke swallowed and found his voice, "I like it. Thank you, Emiko-san." He meant it.

She raised her arms in victory, laughing and promising to bring more food, completely ignoring any and all polite refusals.

Sometimes Dark visited instead of Emiko, usually waiting for him to return from watching her latest heist. She'd proudly tell him how it all went down inside the museum with the police, answering his questions or scoffing at the simplicity of them, but smiling all the while.

And that was how the three of them spent their summer.

On one clear evening, he cut through his usual park on the way home from a heist.

This one had gone on later than usual, something about a new security system by a special commander, and his feet ached with each step. Kosuke flopped down onto the park bench in a wooded area, remembering the night he'd spent there earlier in the season. A lot had happened since then.

The shop owner and frequent customers were kind to him. They often invited him out for drinks, which he occasionally accepted. The bulk of his free time went into researching or chatting with Emiko and Dark. It wasn't bad. In fact, he always looked forward to the days when he'd see one or the other.

He titled his head back, resting it on the cool wood and staring at the sparkling stars.

But were his son, father-in-law, and his Emiko out there? Would he ever see them again? He'd found nothing in the museums or libraries to explain his situation. Every lead quickly hit a dead end.

This really might become his new, permanent life.

Kosuke closed his stinging eyes.

And what then?

"What are you thinking about now?"

Kosuke's eyes flew open and then slammed shut, not expecting the bright sunlight that blinded them. His neck cracked and twinged with each movement as he lifted it from the hard bench. A numb hand clumsily rubbed his eyes.

When he finally stopped blinking, Emiko's curious face came into view.

"Emiko-san! Why are you here?"

"You weren't at the shop or apartment so it had to be the park." The shop..! He must be late for work!

"Did you spend the night here?" She chuckled softly and pulled a leaf out of his spiky hair. Apparently he had.

"Not intentionally..." Kosuke rubbed his sore neck. He shakily stood, taking a few steps forward before turning around to look at her.

Niwa Emiko.

Her wild red hair spilled over her shoulders as usual, shining brighter amongst the blue sky and green vegetation. Hands in pockets, she amusedly watched him smooth his wrinkled shirt and gather his wits.

His heart pounded in his chest, not entirely from the sudden awakening. Work could wait. He'd thought enough last night and all the weeks before. Maybe some of that Niwa bravery had finally rubbed off on him?

"Emiko-san, please go out with me!"

Despite his inner monologue, it wasn't an impressive or dramatic confession by any means. Children and friends and dogs carried on in the park, making noise all the while. Trees gave them some semblance of privacy at least.

"Kosuke-san, you know I'm already seeing someone..." It must grow tiring, having this same conversation with so many men. And he proved to be no better than them. No, worse than them; she'd shared her secrets with him, and look at what he ended up doing anyway.

Emiko herself didn't look terribly disappointed at least. She looked...

"I know." Kosuke couldn't meet her warm gaze anymore as guilt and resolve warred inside. "And I know how important being Dark is to you. I don't want to change who you are or take her away.

"But... being part of your life is important to me too." His words were quiet and steady. "I don't want to give that up either."

She kept silent. But there was no taking it back now.

Slowly, he raised his heavy eyes and saw that Emiko had been replaced.

"You've got nerve! So you just waltz over, say a few sweet lines, and take whoever you want?" Dark drawled, tossing her long, dark hair over her shoulder. A breeze picked up, sailing through the grass and trees, mussing their hair further.

Kosuke stared at the beautiful thief, his surprised face gradually becoming earnest again. He'd said his piece. He wanted to share his life with Emiko again. All of her.

"No wonder we picked you," she continued with a tilt of her head, looking him up and down with sparkling red eyes and an appreciative grin. "Niwa Kosuke."

"You—huh?" Kosuke's coherence slipped away along with any idea of what was happening.

Why did she—

—

Kosuke opened his eyes in a dark room, listening to the quiet breathing beside him for several seconds before he looked down.

And screamed.

He kicked haphazardly at the strange striped beast sitting on the foot of his bed. It jumped and landed beside him, spinning into a triumphant pose before rolling onto half of his pillow.

"Haha! Not nearly as fast as your Dai-chan!" Baku, the latest artwork to join their family, stretched his front hooves high and dared Kosuke to try again.

Kosuke pulled the tangled sheets back over his legs, hands shaking along to his pounding heart. Just when he thought he'd adapted to life in the Niwa home, something new arrived to make everything ridiculous again.

Wide brown eyes scanned once more the room lit by pale slivers of moon and streetlight, as if the park and Dark were hiding in a corner, rather than in... a dream?

Emiko poked the tapir's squishy belly and tiredly scolded, "Be nice." Baku miraculously settled down with only a roll of his uncovered eye.

"Sorry to wake you, Emiko-san." Kosuke rubbed a hand over his face and sighed in relief. Despite its shocks, it was good to be home.

"Don't worry about it, dear." He was all too aware of the unwelcome guest nestled between them, listening to every word. "It was time to wake up anyway."

"But it's not yet 5 AM..." Kosuke spied the digital clock on her nightstand through his fingers. Even his dedicated wife didn't get up this early to set traps... as far as he knew.

"It felt longer than one night, right? Dreams are amazing!" She laid a hand on her cheek and sighed wistfully, "And that's what it feels like to fly. You never said it was so freeing!"

Kosuke shuddered at the reminder of his flight with With a couple weeks ago. "Freeing would be the last word I use to describe— Wait, you...? I also had a dream that you flew!"

Baku broke in, "It was the lady's dream, bub. A damn tasty one too. But you went and stuck your head in where it didn't belong." At that, Emiko tapped the tapir's head and shooed him away. He hopped over Kosuke's legs onto the floor and sauntered out the cracked door, swinging it open completely with his rump.

Kosuke waited until the sound of foot-(hoof?)-steps disappeared down the hall. "I must have spoiled your time as Dark... If I had known, I wouldn't have..." What? Tried to win her back? Spoken to her at all?

She deserved to enjoy her time as a phantom thief, at the very least. He bowed his head in apology. He could have also enjoyed her happiness from afar.

Thin fingers lifted his chin, and he stared down at her warm eyes, still heavy with the last remnants of sleep. "Oh, Kosuke-san, you didn't understand? I had fun! Being Dark was even better than I had imagined it to be. I'll thank Baku in the morning for his prank, just this once." Good dream or not, Kosuke was already considering locking their bedroom door to keep out future late-night visitors.

"I have to thank you too," she went on. Her smile softened at his confused expression. Those fingers reached further to the back of his head and pulled his face closer to hers. "My dream wouldn't have been complete without you there." Public or private, her frank affection never failed to make him blush.

Kosuke remembered their adventure with strange clarity: the amazing phantom thief flying above, their chance meetings and conversations, time with his then-not-wife, an impulsive confession his younger self couldn't have dreamed of making. Dark's words echoed in his ears.

Ah.

He finally understood his role.

He rubbed his neck, hand stopping over where hers still rested. Kosuke shyly returned her smile.

"My Kosuke-san played the best sacred maiden."

Her delighted laughter drowned out his embarrassed "Emiko-san!". For a moment Kosuke swore there was long, dark hair framing his wife's cheeky grin. But only a moment, and then she pulled him into a kiss.

THE END

[andy-the-8th]

Things Green and Growing

Part 9 of Creatures That Defy Logic

Read on AO3

Sam's last day at the greenhouses for the summer and seeing her sister off back to college.

cw: homophobic language

A/N: I just really like the idea of Sam and Jess being biology bros

Also we meet Sam's dad. He's an asshole.

The rushing fans and cool mist of the greenhouse definitely made the late August heat more bearable - no matter how much you might love your job, there's only so much summer sun you (or your plants) could take without some assistance.

"Am I doing this right?"

Jess looked up at Sam from the other side of a table of junipers, a spiky carpet of green across the long low table, contrasting the spotty gray of the wet concrete greenhouse floor. He'd come by the greenhouse a few times over the summer - even though he didn't work there, he insisted he help with something if he was going to hang out. Sam had eventually agreed to let him take care of some of the more innocuous tasks.

Pruning clippers in hand, Jess had been tasked with cutting back the overgrown shoots from the Japanese star junipers - the small conifers were popular for their hardiness as a ground cover, especially as a more durable and eco-friendly replacement for grass. This meant though that their lower branches would snake over the edges of the black plastic pots they were growing in, running sideways in every direction, getting tangled in each other, burning and drying out foliage.

Sam walked over to inspect his handiwork. Actually not too bad.

"Yeah, they look fine."

"Awesome. Thanks for letting me prune something, feels more important than moving things around from table to table" Jess said cheerfully.

"No problem" Sam had come to genuinely enjoy spending time with Jess, and not just as a confidant. Sure, he never got any less excessively enthusiastic, would still frequently go off on tangents of facts and theories, but she'd gotten used to his pattern of speaking. He'd clearly been scared of being annoying the first time he'd visited, and pretty much stayed quiet the few times he'd met Jackie or Jen. Trying to be a bit more normal around new people.

So in a way, she was glad he was comfortable being himself around her now.

Sam went back to the table of peace lilies: graceful, broad glossy dark green leaves with their delicate white alien blooms on long stalks above the thick cluster of greenery at the base. Like the junipers - like most potted plants packed together for commercial purposes - the lower levels were at risk of suffocation, for both light and air, and had to be clipped off before they turned yellow and started to attract mold.

They kept working in silence for a long while, the only sound in the greenhouse the gentle rush of the fans, the occasional hiss of the misting system, the soft clicks of the pruning clippers punctuating at either end of the space.

"So school starts back up in a week."

Sam caught that that was both a perfectly normal observation and a veiled question about what they'd both been thinking since August started. Cody was supposed to be back soon.

"Do you think he'll come back at night? So no one sees him transform back?"

"I don't know, probably." Of course Sam still missed her boyfriend, but it had also been good to spend the summer focusing on her own interests, her own friends, away from swimming and social drama. But she knew she looked forward to seeing him.

Still, it would be a lie to say she wasn't more than a little apprehensive as well.

Like, he literally wasn't human. A lot had probably changed from spending some time as a full-time merman. And what sort of sea creatures were they anyway? Were merpeople more like whales, pelagic, solitary, mostly sticking to the vast fathoms of the open oceans? Living alone or in two or three individuals? Or were they more like dolphins, staying in the shallows in big social pods? Was it like in the movies, secret underwater cities of merpeople with their own cultures, music, governments?

It wasn't too unrealistic to imagine that any of those might significantly change someone's demeanor or even personality. She still got hung up on the whole telepathy thing as well - if Cody came back able to read minds, that might just be too weird of a thing to deal with on top of starting high school.

Jess didn't seem to see any of those questions as anxieties, of course. Quite the opposite. To be fair, he wasn't the one dating him either.

"Gosh, I wonder what it all was like." His voice that that airy sort of awe he'd had back when Cody was still going through the transformations. They actually hadn't really talked about him much over the summer, which Sam had found a little surprising - Jess seemed equally excited to just talk with her, especially with their shared interests in biology. He'd listened attentively when Sam wanted to talk over her mom's work with environmental regulations, or projects she was taking on with the envi-sci club at school next year, or balancing swimming with her other extracurriculars.

"Guess we'll find out." Sam carefully kept any apprehension out of her voice. She did want to know about it, as much as Cody wanted to tell her - but she also wanted to keep their first year of high school as normal as possible after junior high's supernatural finale.

"Yeah. I think I've gotten all the shoots on the junipers."

"Alright, thanks Jess. I'm finishing up here, then will have to be getting home. Jackie's leaving for college again tonight, and I think my dad will be coming to see her off as well."

Sam bit her lip at that. She didn't like having to talk about her father. It wasn't like having divorced parents was abnormal - she guessed that was the case for Jess as well, since he never talked about his mom - but she still didn't like having to bring up her father in more detail than necessary.

"Oh, OK. D'you want me to stick around and help clean up?"

"Nah it'll be fine. Ms. Brantwood should be coming by soon anyway, before I lock up."

"Alright." Jess walked over to the open greenhouse door, where he'd leaned his bike against the frame. He paused for a moment, wiping his glasses with the hem of his shirt where they'd fogged up from the quick temperature and humidity shift, squinting in the sun.

Sam had turned back to the peace lilies, arranging them with proper spacing on the low table, fishing the spray bottle where it had disappeared in the thick stand of leaves, pots, and dirt.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?" she turned her head over her shoulder to where he was still just outside the door, helmet strapped on, hands on the bike ready to go.

"Can you call me if you hear first when he comes back?"

Sam smiled and exhaled out her nose, relaxed her shoulders. "Of course. You too, OK? You're a lot closer to the water than me."

"Oh definitely." Jess balanced to one side on the bike, ready to kick off. "See'ya!"

"See'ya later Jess."

She heard him head off, wheels crunching over the gravel down to the sidewalk, saw him blurred through the glass walls, disappear as he went around the front of the building.

Grabbing the spray bottle and the clippers, she walked them down to the worn wooden cabinets and coat rack built into the wall next to the greenhouse office, hung her gloves on the hook. She took the broom back over to the peace lily table, made sure she hadn't missed any stray leaves or sprinkles of soil on the wet concrete floor. The bell on the door of the office jingled once as it opened and closed - Ms. Brantwood, the owner, came out then, clipboard in one hand, glasses perched on the end of her nose. Ms. Brantwood always looked like some hybrid of a farmer and a librarian, flannel shirt, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, workboots, her gray hair in a tight bun, glasses held on a colorful beaded strap around her neck.

"Ms. Brathwaite," she said congenially. "Here you go." She handed Sam an envelope.

"Thanks Ms. B." Her paycheck from the summer, headed straight for her college savings once she got home.

"Thanks for all the help this summer! The peace lilies never looked better." She smiled approvingly over at the displays where Sam had spent most of the afternoon. "We'd be happy to have you back again."

"That'd be great! Thank you again for having me" Sam tucked the envelope in her canvass bag, slung it over her shoulder, and started to the door.

"Good luck with high school - it's scary at first but you'll do great."

Sam smiled again and backed out the open door, closing it behind her, the screen making a quick whoosh sound before the door clacked on the wood frame. She shifted her bag on her shoulders and started down the sidewalk for home.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"If you really have that much of a problem with it, you can just leave."

Lindsey crossed her arms and leaned back on her kitchen counter, staring down her ex-husband, who was at the bottom of the stairs next to the front door, one hand on the newel post, head hanging down in frustration.

"I don't have a problem, I have an opinion. Goddamnit, do you have to make everything into one of your crusades?"

"I don't have crusades, Steve, I have morals. It's none of your business how she looks, Jackie is a grown woman."

"Staying in a house that I pay to keep you in."

"Don't bullshit me like that. You known damn well I supported us. The house was only ever in my name, for fucks sake. Your child support checks aren't anything we rely on."

"Trust me, they wouldn't exist if the court didn't say so."

Steve glared back at her, the silence tense. Lindsey huffed and went back to packing granola bars and sandwiches in the lunchboxes on the table - snacks to send with Jackie for the car ride to the airport.

"You shouldn't have let her go to that school either."

"She got a full scholarship" Lindsey snapped. She was rapidly reaching the end of her rope with this conversation and was just about ready to throw Steve out of her house if he continued like he was. He was the father of her kids, he technically had visitation rights - but she wouldn't have him talk like this in their house. Thank God Jackie was outside, and Sam still at work.

"Yeah, well, maybe if she'd gone to a state university instead of some liberal arts bullshit, she wouldn't be dressing like some fucking dyke now."

That was it - he was through.

"Get out. Now."

She threw every bit of venom she could into the final word, her gaze ice cold, her knuckles white gripping the edge of the kitchen counter.

Steve sneered cruelly at her as he shifted to  go and roughly put his hand on the door knob. "Wonder where she got that from."

He opened the door quickly to find Sam on the doorstep, her face surprised and pale. Steve stopped, also startled for a moment. He didn't know how much she'd heard - he didn't care. She was grown up enough to start knowing about the real world unfiltered, as far as he was concerned.

"Hey, Dad," she offered shakily, awkwardly. He just looked down at her coldly.

"Good luck in school next year." He turned back for one last glare at Lindsey, then pushed past Sam down the front steps, to his car in the driveway, leaving the front door open. He slammed the car door as he got in, backed down past Lindsey's car into the cul-de-sac where Jackie was standing next to Vanessa's old Jeep, and sped off around the corner, tires spinning harsh squeals, out of the neighborhood.

Jackie and Vanessa quickly looked over at Sam, clearly worried. Jackie walked up across the small front yard, making herself smile sarcastically, trying to conjure humor for her sister who still was frozen and scared-looking on the doorstep.

"Another grand finale and exit from the father of the year, ladies and ladies!" she announced dramatically.  Sam smiled a little at that - Jackie's features relaxed in relief. Vanessa stayed by the Jeep, eyes closed and looking down, fingers pressed to her temples, shaking her head in exasperation.

"Hey, Sam." Jackie looked hard at her, serious. "Don't listen to anything he says. He's an asshole. Got it?"

"Yeah Jackie. Got it." Sam went inside and put her bag down on the floor next to the kitchen table, where Lindsey was aggressively zipping up the lunch boxes. She might have chided Jackie for using that kind of language in front of her, in less charged circumstances.

"I just have one more box upstairs, 'kay Mom?"

"Alright, don't keep Vanessa waiting out there too long though. I'm set to go when you are."

Sam bit her lip and looked down at the wood grain in the kitchen table, at the lines in the linoleum floor. "Mom, I'm going to put my stuff upstairs too, I'll be down to see them off."

Sam quickly took the stairs, two at a time. She tossed her bag on her bed, closed the door, and turned down the hall to Jackie's room.

She was standing at her bureau, small cardboard box in hand, quickly putting her many rings, chokers, and bracelets in, her back to the door. She turned her head, hearing Sam step into the door frame.

"What's up?"

"Jackie, I- something Dad said -"

"Hey, what'd I tell you? Ignore him. He doesn't know shit." Jackie huffed and went back to gathering things off the top of the bureau.

"Yeah I know." Sam looked down, nervous. "But what he said about how you looked, like a...a.."

"A dyke?"

".......yeah."

To Sam's surprise Jackie actually laughed a little, put her last few bits of jewelry in the box, shoved it into her black backpack, covered in pins and patches. She crossed the room and put her hands on her sister's shoulders. She breathed in, and Sam looked up at her a little.

"Listen to me again now. We are strong, modern women. We can look how we want. We can be how we want. It's a new millennium, we can't stay stuck in that patriarchal bullshit forever."

Jackie definitely looked how she wanted - hair spiked up today, black nailpolish, Bikini Kill shirt with cut off sleeves over her black jeans.

"So, does that mean...?"

Jackie smiled and rolled her eyes. "Actually, no. I'm straight, I'm just goth and like to piss off old men." She paused, serious again. "But there'd be nothing wrong with that if I were, Sam. If anyone were."

"Um, oh. Yeah, OK, I jus-"

Jackie's eyes flicked up, past Sam's face and cutting her off, looking past her face to the doorway. Lindsey was standing there, arms folded, lips pursed, her eyes nervous.

She and Jackie held eye contact for a noticeable moment - Sam turned her head to look at her mom as well. Lindsey's eyes calmed and softened almost too quickly to notice.

"You guys about ready to head out?"

"Yeah Mom, we're done." Jackie walked back over and hauled her backpack up onto one shoulder, the buttons rattling into each other with the motion. Sam turned back and walked past her mom, leading the way down the stairs and out the front door. She paused on the doorstep to let them pass. Jackie hoisted her backpack straighter and stopped in front of Sam on the doorstep.

"You know you can always call me if you want. High school can suck sometimes, if you want to talk to someone who already did it you know where to find me."

"Hey, I was in high school once too" Lindsey added, smiling a bit, trying to lighten the mood as well. Jackie rolled her eyes dramatically.

"'kay, how about if you want to talk to someone who did high school within the last hundred years, THEN call me."

Jackie hugged Sam tight, and walked across the grass to where Vanessa was waiting by the car. Vanessa and Jackie both went to college in Philadelphia - Vanessa at Temple University, Jackie at Haverford College. They were on the same flight over - Vanessa's mom was an airline pilot, so would drive the Jeep back home from the airport after they'd left.

Lindsey followed her down to the side of the car, stopping on the curb, arms crossed over her chest. The air had cooled significantly as the sun went down, almost chilly in contrast to the day's heat.

"Call me when you get in, OK?"

"Yeah of course, same as always." Lindsey hugged Jackie and Vanessa, stepped back from the Jeep as they pulled away with the windows down. Jackie turned up the radio, the energetic chugging guitar and drums filling the summer night, bouncing off the houses around the cul-de-sac.

"WOOOOOOOO!!" as Vanessa steered them away from the sidewalk, Jackie looked back with a wild excited smile, hands up in the rock gesture.

"DRIVE SAFE GIRLS" Lindsey called over the loud music, waving as they turned the corner and out of the development, the music fading as they left.

Lindsey stayed looking down the road for a few moments after the Jeep was gone - from where she was leaning against the front door, Sam saw her mom's eyes were a bit wet. Lindsey walked back up the yard and into the house, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Sorry, sorry, just you girls are growing up so fast." She smiled then as they both walked back inside. As she closed the door behind them, she un-did and re-did her bun, pushing back the loose red strands from the day, refreshing, restoring order.

Following their routine pattern, Sam walked to the kitchen, got two glasses of water, handed one to her mom as they both settled at the table.

Lindsey took the glass, gently clinked it against Sam's. "Hydrate or die!" she said cheerfully, familiarly as part of their home-from-work/inside joke ritual they'd organically developed over the summer, with Sam getting back from the greenhouses the same time Lindsey got back from the offices.

"Hydrate or die." Sam replied, smiling. They both sipped their water silently, decompressing from the day, from Steve, from Jackie's departure.

"You got everything you need for next week?"

"Yeah, I'm set on everything. I got paid from Brantwood today too."

"Oh good, I'm going by the bank tomorrow morning, I can deposit it for you."

"Thanks Mom."

Eventually Lindsey got leftovers from the fridge to heat up - dinner passed at a welcomely-uneventful rate, just chatting about work from the day, errands to run. They finished the dishes and Sam filled up one of the watering cans on the counter to bring upstairs to her plants. She'd put the succulents on a nightly watering schedule, better to accommodate the extra heat this time of year without extra evaporation.

"Goodnight Mom."

Lindsey looked up from the reports she had absentmindedly been paging through after finishing the dishes - environmental justice never sleeps. "Night hon. You OK?" Her voice was gentle, but firm enough that she indicated that she was leaving it open if Sam wanted to talk about any of the commotion from earlier.

Maybe not tonight.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Goodnight." Sam was up the stairs and out of sight.

Lindsey closed the folder on the table, shuffled it back into the small pile she'd pulled from her briefcase. She leaned forward, hands on her forehead, taking long, soothing breaths with her eyes closed. She stayed like that a while, listening to Sam moving about above - back and forth around her room with the watering can, down the hall to the bathroom and back, waiting til she heard her door click shut for the night. She got up, quietly pushed her chair back under the table. She filled her glass at the sink, downing it in one draft, slowly and smoothly, letting the coolness spread through her whole body.  Hydrate or die.

Filing folders back into her briefcase could wait til morning. It had been a long day.

END NOTES:

I imagined the song Jackie and Vanessa are listening to is Rebel Girl by Bikini Kill

Tune in next time for more of "which of Sam's supporting cast is going to be a lesbian"

Jackie and Lindsey continue to be fun and interesting to write - maybe future spinoffs? Does it still count as fanfiction when the original characters get spinoffs?

[allhailshadamy]

[A/N

Okay so I may of have fucked this up. So I will be changing the first chapter all over again. Please if you're keeping up with this story go back and read chapter one! Thank you so much for reading my story btw!:) ]

Ding ding

Amy kept ringing the small bell that was on the reception desk. Flashbacks coming back to her, all she saw was a blue hedgehog rapidly and impatiently ringing it. Her flashback being cut short by Jane who walked over to her with a frown.

"Please don't do that Amy." She said in a soft monotone voice as she started to access some files from the computer that sat on the reception desk. Amy spoke up as she looked around, "I remember this place..." she said as Jane's eyebrows lifted up, she smiled at Amy. "Were you a patient here?" She asked as Amy nodded. Jane kept smiling, "Do you remember Zooey? She ran this clinic with Tails before me." She mentioned as Amy nodded, "Yes, we helped build the clinic." Amy said as Jane then lowered one of her lifted eyebrows.

"Who's we?" She asked but before she could get a reply Sonic made his way into the reception, scratching the back of his head with a nervous look.

"I tried to help chameleon but I think I just made him more ner-" he stopped talking when he saw Amy standing infront of the reception desk. He eyebrows furrowed as his eyes started to get a bit red, he looked at Jane who looked back at him.

"Why do I know you?" Asked the pink hedgehog as she furrowed her eyebrows trying to identify the blue hedgehog. Sonic slowly started to make his way to Amy, who he reached out to caress her cheek. She flinched, "What are you doing?" She asked making Sonic immediately backed away.

"What's going on?" Asked Sonic as he turned to look at Jane. She raised an eyebrow, "You know her?" She asked, Sonic's ears twitched, shivers going down his spiky back when he heard Amy call out his name. "Sonic?" She asked, Sonic shaking his head. "Who are you?" He asked, Amy's confusion growing as she looked at Sonic. "I'm Amy..." she replied, Jane falling into the same confusion. "I don't understand, what is it?" Asked Jane as she looked at Amy then at Sonic hoping anyone would reply to her question. Luckily she got a response from the blue hedgehog, "She can't be Amy." He replied, Amy immediately responding. "I'm Amy Rose."

"Amy's dead!" He frustratedly said as he looked over back at Jane. Jane gave him a small confused smile. "Alright well I just took this hedgehog's pulse and she is very much alive." She said as Sonic began to shake his head, he then took out a folded picture out of his scarf and unfolding it revealing a happy Amy, wearing a straw hat and a blue dress, her smile beaming.

[A/N: I forgot to add the straw hat sorry ]

Sonic showed Jane the picture, "See this? This is Amy." Jane looked at the picture then back at Amy, "She looks like her." Amy began to walk closer to them, Sonic continued talking. "Amy died three years ago." He informed Jane as Amy took the picture from Sonic and looked at it. "Let me see." She said as more flashbacks began to appear in her mind. The flashbacks revealing Sonic holding the camera and taking a lot of pictures of Amy who was just there laughing. In her flashback Amy remembered, after Sonic took the pictures, he began to kiss her and they quickly fell into the ground becoming one with one another. Amy looked up at Sonic who stood there observing her. "You took this... this is when we went 'sight seeing'.." she said Sonic getting closer to her, trying the hardest to hold his tears back. "W-who told you?" He asked, Amy not responding his question slowly walked towards him. "We're dating..." she replied as she kept walking to him, Sonic began to back away slowly as his voice began to crack and a few tears beating him and falling down his cheeks. "N-no..." he said as Amy kept walking towards him. "Sonic? What happened?" She asked as Sonic began to cry more both in frustration and desperation. He was not able to comprehend what was going on. Jane quickly looked up Amy's name and soon a death certificate appeared. "Amy Rose, October thirteenth Hedgehog village's Clinic. Blood loss due to severe cut on abdomen." She read, Amy looked at Jane.

"Why are you saying that?" She asked Jane looked back at Amy, "It's what says on this file." She replied Sonic quickly joining in after he had recuperated. "I was there when you passed away." He said as Amy looked back at him. "But I'm here!" She argued back as Sonic shook his head frowning. "Then you're not her." He declared, Amy shook her head, a scoff coming out of her. "This is ridiculous." She muttered under breath, Sonic offered his hand towards her. "Come with me. I want to show you something." Amy furrowed her eyebrows a bit hesitant but slowly taking his hand. "Where are you taking me?" She asked as he began to walk out the clinic.

"Hey hold up, what about the others?" Asked Jane, Sonic simply waving her off. "I don't know. Take some tests, take their pulse." He said, as soon as he was outside he carried Amy and started to run towards the graveyard they were just in. As soon as they got there Sonic put her down and began to walk to Amy's grave, it had been dugged through and the decorations left there has been scattered all over. Sonic startled looked around as Amy read the headstone.

AMY ROSE

BELOVED HERO AND FRIEND

I will always love you Amy, Sonic.

Amy began to start sobbing, muttering a thousands no's as she kept her gaze on her headstone. Sonic began to hug her from behind but she started to resist.

"Amy, sorry, I shouldn't have brought you here." He said as Amy soon broke lose and began to ran away. Sonic was about to run after her but was interrupted by Knuckles' voice. "Sonic!" He called out, Sonic turned around to face him. "Tails said he tried contacting you but couldn't reach you, so I began to look for you." He said as he looked at the destroyed tomb. There wasn't any light for him to see who's tombstone it was, all he saw was that it had been messed with. "Did you do this?" He asked, Sonic immediately denying it. "Of course not!"

"So who was it then?" He questioned, Sonic shrugged. "Maybe some locals?" He suggested, Knuckles nodded, "Well you should call Tails, he's looking for you." He replied as Sonic nodded after he let out a sigh. Knuckles soon made his way out along with Sonic. As soon as they parted ways, Sonic turned to his communicator. "Jane is Amy with you?" He asked, Jane immediately responding. "No?"

"Her grave was empty. There is a bunch of open graves."

"What are you saying Sonic? They're all dead?" She asked, Sonic who could be heard running replied with an order, "Just keep everyone calm, contact me if Amy turns up." Jane turned to look around at the people she had gathered in the living space of the clinic and saw as the racoon held up a book then muttered something.

"Marine..." she whispered then quickly turned to look at Jane. "My name's Marine." She said smiling, Jane returning the smile began to ask her more questions. "Marine? That's great, do you remember anything else Marine?" She replied as Marine's eyes started to sadden. She shook her head and Jane sighed.

-

Knuckles arrived at Tails' workshop, Knuckles giving all the information about what he had discovered to Tails.

"Yeah he was in the graveyard, the tomb he was in had been interfered with, he said some locals might've done it."

"Amy was buried in that cemetary..." replied Tails with a sad look in his eyes. "I'll try to contact him again." He said as he quickly pressed one of the buttons on his communicator. Sonic yet again not picking up. Knuckles looked up at Tails, "Want me to go look for him again?" He asked, Tails shook his head. "No, it's fine, plus its late. Our expirements can wait for tomorrow."

-

Sonic had been running through the entire town looking for Amy, he finally decided to go to the cliff where Amy and him would often go "sight seeing" at. He was relieved when he found her there laying down looking up at the beautiful night sky. When she heard him she sat up and looked up at him.

"Hi."

"Hey."

"Sorry I ran." She apologized, Sonic admitting his mistake as well.

"It's fine... I shouldn't have taken you there." Amy softly smiled.

"We used to come here didn't we?" She asked, Sonic simply nodding as he took a sit next to her.

"Yeah..." he said in a soft voice.

"I remember....and I remember being in a coma.... I was so scared. I couldn't keep fighting... I fucked up and I lost the fight. I should've kept fighting..." she blamed herself as a few tears started to roll down her cheeks.

"You did fight Ames... I couldn't do anything to help you..." he replied with a sigh at the end as he then laid down besides her.

"You were so good to me Sonic..." she said as she looked at him and smiled.

"We should probably get you back to Jane and to the clinic..." he suggested, Amy shook her head.

"Let's just stay here for a while." She said laying back down and looking into the sky. She smiled as she got closer to Sonic.

"What did you say in order to get me to come here with you anywhere Ames?"

"Let's go sight seeing, Sonic..." she said as Sonic smile widen. They stood there in complete silence as they watched the stars together.

"Why am I here?" Amy asked as she kept her eyes at the night sky.

"I don't know Amy, but I'm here now, and I'm going to protect you." He said as he pressed his head against hers.