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wowbright · 1 year

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Fic: I’ll Always Belong to You

Klaine Valentine’s Challenge 2023: “Time of My Life” from Dirty Dancing (Day 14 prompt)

Words: ~2400 words

Rating: Teen and Up

Summary: Kurt loves his birthday present from Blaine.

I’m back with more vignettes from my Mormon!Klaine universe for Klaine Valentines 2023! This vignette takes place in the post-mission-conference arc, between dinner with the lesbians and Blaine coming out to Kurt. I’ve decided Lead, Kindly Light takes place on Kurt’s birthday, so it’s directly after/the evening of that fic.

My Mormon!Klaine Masterpost. (Klaine Valentines 2023 posts are bold and italicized.)

Notes:

Thanks to @redheadgleek, @flower29power, and @gaazhagens for Sound of Music help

Play list of a few German Sound of Music songs/scenes

German movie lyrics to Do-Re-Mi

PDF lyrics to “Ich bleibe dein immerzu” (German movie version of “Something Good”)

Other links are in the text

Other notes in tags

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“Have you enjoyed your birthday so far?” Blaine asked as they entered the apartment.

“Are you kidding? I’ve had the time of my life!” Kurt set his bag down on the floor and bounded over to the loveseat, flopping onto it with complete abandon, his arms draped over one end, his feet dangling off the other. “Allgäu, cows, the investigators cancelling their appointment—”

“You're really not disappointed about that at all, are you?” Blaine asked as he took off his shoes. He wasn't disappointed that Kurt wasn't disappointed; actually, it rather pleased him. Through most of their companionship, Kurt had been such a workaholic and an absolute stickler for the rules. But tonight, instead of insisting that they knock on doors to make up for some high schoolers canceling on them, he let Blaine treat him to dinner before watching the sunset on the Danube. It had felt, at least to Blaine, almost like a date.

“Nope,” Kurt said. “They just want to research us for their religion class, anyway. And if they did want to join the church, they’re too young to do that without parental approval. How many Bavarian parents are going to be like, ‘Sure, kid, screw the Catholic Church. Go join the Mormons’?”

“How many Bavarian parents actually care that much about the Catholic Church?” He lifted Kurt’s legs like a tollgate to join his companion on the couch, then lowered them across his lap once he was seated.

“Just enough to distrust everything else,” Kurt said without acrimony. He sighed and stretched his arms above his head, wiggling his torso like he was trying to get some kink out of his muscles. “But I suppose it is unusual for me not to feel dejected about a cancellation. Guess I'm officially getting trunky.”

Blaine felt his heart sink in his chest. He hated being reminded that Kurt was leaving soon. All day, he'd managed to pretend that it was never going to happen. Allgäu and the Donau had been paradise, but now Kurt was kicking them out. “You still have a month to go," Blaine said. “Can't afford to be trunky yet.”

Kurt poked Blaine’s thigh with his toe. “I've been such a perfect missionary for twenty-three straight months. All I need to do now is endure to the end. That's what the scriptures say, isn't it? ‘Endure to the end,’ not ‘excel to the end.’”

Blaine chuckled. “That is indeed what they say.”

“I'll do my best not to turn lazy for your sake, though,” Kurt added seriously.

“You don't have to worry about that,” Blaine said. “It's a little known fact, but I actually like spending time with you, whether we're proselytizing or not.” He looked into Kurt's eyes, and Kurt looked into his, studying his face, as if looking for the meaning between the words.

Blaine wanted so desperately for Kurt to find it. Because there was no way Blaine was going to say it out loud. Not when he was so unsure how Kurt would respond. And not on Kurt’s birthday, when everything had been so lovely and perfect and magical. Blaine couldn't risk breaking something so beautiful.

“Your birthday isn't over,” Blaine said. “I didn't manage to secretly bake you a multitiered lemon cake, but I do have something else for you.”

“Oh?” Kurt perked up, clearly curious. “Allgäu, dinner—you don’t think I’ve been spoiled enough?”

“Of course not. Your birthday’s not over yet, is it?” Blaine scooted out from under Kurt’s legs and went into the bedroom to fish his suitcase out from under his bed.

“So that’s where you hide the presents.” Kurt was standing in the doorway, watching Blaine, making absolutely no effort to hide his eagerness to find out what Blaine had in his suitcase. It was adorable.

“That's where I hid this one,” Blaine said, retrieving a small package wrapped in a scenic photo of Kyoto from a magazine in Dani’s recycling pile. It had made Blaine think of Kurt because they’d joked once about going to Japan to visit the train station where a cat was in charge—only Blaine hadn't exactly been joking. He’d meant it. He wanted to meet that cat and, wherever he went, he wanted Kurt to be with him.

Kurt probably didn't even remember that conversation. But that was okay. The photo was beautiful in its own right.

“Oh!” Kurt squealed when Blaine handed the package to him. “I love getting presents.” He dropped onto his bed and examined the square. It was probably obvious to him from the shape that a CD was inside, but he acted like it was the most mysterious object he’d ever held. “Hey! That’s Japan! Is this the place with the cat train conductor that we’re going to visit when you’re done with your mission and I’ve saved anough money to take a jaunt through Asia?”

“That’s Kyoto,” Blaine said, his heart on the verge of exploding. “The cat is in Wakayama. But they’re not too far apart. Maybe a hundred miles? We could definitely visit both of them.”

“How do you know so much about Japan?”

Blaine shrugged. “There might have been a map in that same magazine I pulled the picture from.”

Kurt clucked his tongue. “Elder Anderson, reading unapproved materials. I might have to talk to the mission president about this,” he said in a tone that meant he definitely was not going to talk to the mission president about it.

God help me, Blaine thought. Kurt was so sexy when he feigned disapproval.

Blaine dropped down next to him, the mattress bouncing from the new weight. “So are you going to open it or not? The suspense is killing me.”

“Whose birthday is it?” Kurt said with a smirk. But he did unwrap it. “Meine Lieder, meine Träume,” he read as he revealed the top of the CD cover. “Wait. Is this … Oh my gosh! It is!” Kurt flung his arms around Blaine and hugged the breath out of him.

It was the German soundtrack to The Sound of Music. Blaine had found it in a music store in Munich during the mission conference, and it had immediately struck him as the perfect gift for his companion.

“Is it because this is the musical of my namesake, Kurt von Trapp?” Kurt asked, squeezing Blaine’s arm.

Blaine giggled. He couldn't help it. Kurt was so delightful. Blaine must have sounded like a hopelessly besotted schoolboy. “Partly. But also because I think I've heard you sing almost every single song from the soundtrack in the shower at some point.”

“Of course I have! Because it’s the best musical on earth! It’s got romance, found family, and a half-hour public service announcement against Nazis!” Kurt excitedly opened the liner notes. “And it has a lyrics insert!”

Kurt was a force of nature. He grabbed Blaine's hand and pulled him into the living room. It wasn't long before the CD player was removed from its hiding place and plugged into the wall, and Kurt and Blaine were on the loveseat with the liner notes between them, learning the German lyrics to “The Sound of Music”: Along the valleys sounds the song of mountains, the most beautiful song far from our time.

Of course, they didn’t stay on the loveseat for long. One cannot easily sing with gusto while sitting down (the downstairs apartment was empty, and the living room wall faced outside, so they didn't have to worry about disturbing the neighbors unless they got really loud), and dancing is made easier by standing. They pondered how to confront the problem of Maria, recited their favorite things, and learned entirely new mnemonics for the do-re-mi scale (do was not doe, a female deer, but the first syllable in the name of the Donau River; ray was not a drop of golden sun, but Reh, a hoofed herbivore that lived in high-altitude forests; and ti wasn’t ti at all, but si—what passes in Rome for “yes”).

They sang sometimes, and danced sometimes, and occasionally engaged in friendly arguments about the meaning of the lyrics and whether they were good translations.

Blaine collapsed on the loveseat when the Ländler began. He loved this part of the movie, when little Kurt von Trapp asks Maria to teach him the waltz-like dance and Captain von Trapp steps in to demonstrate. It's the first moment the audience knows for sure that the Captain and Maria are falling in love.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Kurt asked, his eyebrows quirked in challenge.

“Sitting down?”

“For the Ländler? You can’t sit for the Ländler. It has the name of an actual dance in its title.”

"But I don't know the steps," Blaine said.

“But I do,” said Kurt, bowing slightly and holding out one hand. “Elder Anderson, will you do me the honor of this dance?”

“Well, if you put it that way, Elder Hummel.” Blaine felt giddy. He wasn’t a Disney prince—Kurt was. Blaine was Arielle, woozy with infatuation. Still, he managed to stand and return the bow, then slot his hand into Kurt’s.

Kurt rested his free hand on Blaine’s waist and guided him through the dance. Two hops and a turn. Two hops and a turn. Kurt was right. It wasn't that hard—or, rather, Kurt made it easy. He was an expert lead, guiding with gestures and subtle movements, never forcing Blaine’s body into an unexpected pose. Their bodies returned naturally to each other after every separation. And though the space they were in was tiny, Kurt somehow made it feel huge, like they had the entire world under their feet and could dance wherever their hearts led them.

Blaine fell into the dance like he was falling into Kurt, every minute of every day.

The Ländler ended, but they continued dancing in the silence between songs, through the silliness of “So Long, Farewell” and the joy of “Climb Every Mountain,” and Blaine was so caught up in the music and the lyrics and the feeling of being held in Kurt’s arms that he completely forgot what was coming next until it did—the languid love song where Captain von Trapp and Maria finally admit their feelings to each other.

Nun stehst du hier und du sagst „Liebe mich,“ was ich so gerne tu, So nimm mich und mach du uns glücklich, ich bleibe dein immerzu

(Now you stand here and say, "Love me," which I so gladly do, So take me and make us happy, I'll always belong to you)

Kurt slowed, but didn’t stop or let Blaine go. His eyes were on Blaine’s, clear and fearless. It was like being serenaded. It was like being loved.

Blaine inched slowly closer, testing the waters, waiting for Kurt to stop him. But Kurt didn’t. And now Blaine’s cheek was on Kurt's shoulder and both of Kurt’s arms were around his waist, and they were slow dancing in the living room, the whole world beyond them nothing but a dream.

Blaine sang along. Ich bleibe dein immerzu. Kurt could choose to understand or not. It wasn't in Blaine’s control.

And then he heard Kurt singing back, felt the vibrations of the words in his scalp as Kurt pressed his cheek pressed against the top of Blaine’s head: Nun stehst du hier und du sagst „Liebe mich,“ was ich so gerne tu. Blaine’s fingers flexed into Kurt’s back. He should say it. Liebe mich, Kurt. Liebe mich. That was the thing, wasn't it? He had told Kurt he loved him so many times that Kurt couldn't hear it for what it was. But if he said, Love me, Kurt, please. I need you to love me in every way you know how—then maybe Kurt would finally understand.

Als du kamst, da war ich selig, so wie du. So nimm mich und mach du uns glücklich, ich bleibe dein immerzu.

(You are blessed, and when you came into my life, I was, too. So take me and make us happy, I'll always belong to you.)

The music stopped. Blaine’s heart sped up. But Kurt’s arms were still around him, giving him strength. He could do this. He could say this. He lifted his eyes to Kurt’s, and Kurt was looking back at him as if he already knew.

“Kurt—”

Bang. Bang. Bang. “Elders! It's me, Dani! I heard you come in earlier and I have something for Elder Hummel’s birthday!”

“You told her about my birthday?” Kurt said incredulously. His arms were still on Blaine’s waist, but he had stepped back, his chest no longer warming Blaine’s.

Blaine bit his bottom lip to keep from swearing. “When I told her we were going to Allgäu. I didn’t think she’d do something about it.”

Kurt smiled softly. “It’s okay. I am the one who said I like presents.” And with that, he halfway across the room. “Coming, Dani!”

Kurt swung the door open. Dani stood there with a plate of cupcakes in one hand, her girlfriend at her shoulder, and Stürmchen at her ankles. “They’re chocolate. We were going to try something really fancy like Black Forest cake, but then I remembered you guys don't drink alcohol, and I wasn't sure if the kirsch counted. So just plain chocolate with chocolate frosting. We taste-tested a few and can guarantee that they are not terrible. But if you think they are, just throw them away, don't let Stürmchen eat any. Her birthday gift to you is her presence. You can have her overnight if you like. I know how much it kills you not to be able to have your own cat. Besides, the last couple nights she's been trying to sleep on top of my head and it drives me crazy.”

Stürmchen was already inside the apartment, rubbing herself all over Kurt’s ankles. Blaine found himself feeling jealous of the cat.

He took a deep breath. This was for the best. Today was Kurt’s day, not his. It wasn’t Blaine’s place to ask him for anything. It was a time to celebrate Kurt, and love him as much as Kurt would allow.

If Kurt wanted more, he would let Blaine know.

#klainevalentines2023 #klaine fanfiction #mormon!klaine #wowbright writes fic #klaine fic #The lyrics to the big love song in The Sound of Music movie (“Something Good”) are totally different in German than they are in English. Not #Not my fault. But you can blame this on me:#My translation of the German version into English is a little loose—they’re how I imagine Blaine understanding the lyrics.#also the German movie lyrics are different than the German theatre lyrics #by a lot #the theatre ones are generally closer to the English #but I went with the movie because I could find CDs of that online #though it's easier to find the theater versions in online formats like YouTube and MP3

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lovely-jily · 3 years

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potions and locked closets

hey!! sorry this is such a long fic BUT i just wanted to say that i’m also working on this same fic but from lily’s pov lmk if you’d want that:))) thanks and i love you all so freakin much <3

James tried to steady his breathing. His heart was already beating too quickly for his liking, and he hadn't even seen her yet. He was already surprised that she agreed to be his partner; they both know that it would likely be another hour of pointless bickering but nonetheless. Lily Evans had agreed to partner with James for their weekly project Slughorn had assigned. She finally said yes to something.

"Fine," she had said after he asked her, following it up with, "But I'll undoubtedly need help with Transfiguration this week, so if you swear to help me, then I suppose we can partner."

In all honesty, James wasn't having too much trouble with his Elixer to Induce Euphoria, but he just wanted an excuse for Lily to be with him. And maybe if she saw that he had matured at least a little bit, it would make her start to tolerate him.

If that were even possible.

The dungeons were decently empty, but Lily had intentionally reserved the potions room in advance so no one else would be around. Meaning they would be completely and totally alone.

When he walked into the room, she was fiddling with the size of the fire under the cauldron. She was at the desk she usually sat in, the second row to the left, with her back to him.

"Evening Evans," He said, setting his bag on the table and standing next to her, "I see you've started already."

"Well, I actually want a good score on this," She exhaled through her mouth and flipped through her Potions book, her dainty fingers lingering on the words "Elixer to Induce Euphoria".

"I'm right there with you," he said, rolling up his sleeves. He watched Lily's eyes dart from his arms back to her textbook. From what James could see, she already gathered the ingredients and had them neatly organised in front of them.

"Alright, you can start by skinning these then?" She said, swiftly handing him the Shrivelfigs.

"Got it," he noted the way her eyes darted up to his for a second when she was handing him the Shrivelfigs, their skin touching momentarily. While it was only a second, it was long enough to cause James to hitch his breath in an all too noticeable way.

He started skinning the flower, trying to ignore the way her perfume smelled or the curve of her jaw. She tied her hair up in a low ponytail, pulling out tiny wispy hairs that framed her face. He chastised himself for the dirty thoughts that followed, but, Jesus, he couldn't help his want to do the most unholy things to her when she did that.

She started working on porcupine quills as he attempted to pull himself together.

"I wish we got Amortentia."

James took a sharp inhale, resulting in him coughing on his own spit. She, Lily Evans, the same Lily Evans who insisted she hated every fibre of his being every day since they were twelve, wanted to make a love potion with him- James! James Potter! As in the same James Potter that she would shoot daggers at any excuse, the boy she would scold any second she could, the boy-

"It's just so much more of a challenge compared to this one," she finished.

Right. Of course. That's why Lily wanted to make that potion, no other reason, as much as James wanted there to be.

"At least we didn't get Felix Felicis. That takes a while," He ignored the feeling of his heart sinking and his stomach twisting as he finished up the Shrivelfigs. He should've known that was the reason, but he couldn't help but innocently jump to conclusions with her.

"What did Amortentia smell like for you?" She asked, causing James to start jumping to conclusions again.

How do I answer this honestly without giving away the fact that I smelled her?"

"Fresh bread, rain, and- uh- my mother's shampoo," He mentally kicked himself for bringing up his mother, but it was the quickest thing he could think of on the spot, "What about you?"

She sighed, stirring in the quills, "The ocean, my mum's hot chocolate and a cologne of some kind, but I couldn't place where that one was from."

A pang of jealousy beat along with James's heart as he thought about her smelling another lads cologne. Whoever he was, he was a prick.

She shook her head quickly as she seemed to panic for a moment, hastily saying, "Anyways, I'm sure it doesn't matter."

She fiddled with the ladle, brushing the few hairs out of her face. Her cheeks were bright red.

"You alright there, Evans?" He asked as he turned to look at her. He swallowed what felt like all his dignity and pride but was actually just the extra spit that always was around with Lily.

"Just fine," She cleared her throat and handed him the Sopophorous beans, not looking at him, "Would love it if you could start working on these, though."

"Got it," he mumbled as he started dicing the beans.

"No, Potter," His heart lightened a little at the sound of his name in her voice, even if it was to chastise him, "Those are far too small. They'll dissolve too quickly."

"What do you mean, this is how Slughorn does it-"

"Slughorn always cuts things too small, but he makes up for it by moving a little quicker-"

"Well, that's stupid. What kind of a teacher-"

"James," She looked up at him, sighing, and despite her exhausted expression, his lungs lifted immensely at the sound of his first name. She never used his first name.

"Yes, Evans?"

"Could you perhaps go find more in the Potions closet? I think it'll just make things a lot easier."

"Got it."

The closet was cluttered, full of misplaced ingredients from students whose first priority clearly wasn't organisation. After a solid minute of staring at the mess, he called her in to help him.

"What do you mean 'Can't find them'- I just saw them," she huffed, shoving herself next to him in the tight space. James would be lying if he said he didn't do this on purpose but let the boy live. He would take any excuse to be in close proximity to the girl.

"Not sure how anyone could find anything in here. I feel bad for the poor bloke who has to clean this during detention," He said, hands on his hips as she stood in front of him, green eyes scanning the shelves. The closet door closed behind her, and while they weren't any closer than they were by the desks, it almost felt like she was right on top of him. It was taking his total concentration to not think about shoving her against the door and having a long-awaited snog.

"It'll probably be Sirius," she said, glancing at him, a smirk on her face.

He chuckled as he looked at the messy shelves, suddenly shy from her eye contact, "Probably. Maybe we should leave him a note."

They faced each other, her back towards the door and his towards the shelves of messy ingredients. There was just enough room between them for her to fold her arms against her chest, her smile making James's lungs feel extra airy, "Or we can charm the Wolfsbane to fall off every time he tries to put it away."

James laughed, shaking his head as he looked down at her. Their faces were only inches apart, and his heart was beating so hard he was worried she could feel it.

"You know, for such a stickler for rules, you're quite creative with pranks."

She smirked, "I've learned that you can get away with a lot more if you aren't so obnoxious about it."

James let out a fake, dramatised gasp, "You?! A Prefect breaking rules?"

She just shrugged, a smirk still painted on her face. James took a second to look at her, feeling fortunate that not only was he was in the potions closet with her, but she had chosen to carry a conversation with him. This friendly banter was still a little rare, even though they had been getting a little closer lately. Since the incident at the end of fifth year, roughly nine months ago, James decided to get his act together. Mainly for the sake of Lily, but also the threat of war was becoming more than just rumours, and he knew that a war was no place for an immature bully like himself. He was not a person that he- or really anyone- was proud of, and he wasn't okay with that.

James was about to say something when her eyes lit up at something behind his head.

"There it is!" She said and reached her arm out to grab something just next to his ear.

Under normal circumstances, James would've been disappointed that she found it because it probably meant that his time in a closet with her, the girl he's wanted to shag since he had first laid eyes on her, was now over.

However, when Lily reached forward to grab whatever they were looking for (James had since forgotten. Other things had occupied his mind the past couple of minutes), she had subconsciously pressed her body up against his. In a panic, James put his hands on her waist. They both looked at each other with panicked eyes when they realised what was going on, faces close enough that James felt her heavy exhale as she attempted to catch her breath. Her eyes darted to his lips as he was suddenly aware of how naked they felt without hers on them. He instinctively bit them.

James cleared his throat and politely turned his head away from her, trying to reduce the awkwardness.

"Er-Um-Sorry," He said, taking his hands off her waist and shoving his hands into his pockets. Lily's hand was still grasping the beans behind him, and she was staring at him, seemingly debating something. Feeling shy and awkward as she studied his face, James was staring at her left earlobe, noticing the freckle resting next to her small pearl earring.

"Don't worry about it," She mindlessly whispered, still looking intently at him. She seemed to be deep in thought and was not thinking about the words she was saying.

James was just surprised she wasn't showing any signs of being uncomfortable. He would've guessed that she would be yelling at him by now.

"So-uh- I guess we should get-" James cleared his throat as he reached for the door handle behind her. He was nervous under Lily's stare and was having a hard time keeping composure. He wasn't sure what she was thinking, and that honestly bothered him more than if she was yelling at him. At least he knew how she felt then, but he was entirely in the dark right now, "We should get going. The potion's probably been simmering for too long."

Lily blinked and shook her head as if leaving a deep trance. Suddenly embarrassed and blushing, she nodded her head and cleared her throat.

"Right," She said as James tried the door handle.

It didn't move.

He tried it again.

Nothing.

"Well, shit," James said, trying to jiggle the door handle again with both hands despite knowing it wouldn't work. She probably thought he did this on purpose (Which wouldn't be a terribly bad idea if James wasn't so afraid of her), "It's locked."

Lily's eyes widened in a panic, and she promptly turned around, trying the door handle for herself. When it inevitably didn't work, she turned back around and sighed as she leaned against the door, looking up. She groaned and brushed the hair out of her face.

"I forgot that Slughorn keeps it locked," She said, still huffing, "Normally, it doesn't matter because he just keeps it open, but..."

James felt his pockets for his wand and remembered he left it on the desk, "You haven't got your wand, do you?"

Lily looked down as she felt her own pockets, looking back up as she shook her head.

It was then, at the sight of a dishevelled Lily Evans, that James realised that he was locked in a closet with her, and he had a hard time remembering why this was such a bad thing. He tried to shove out the thoughts that entered at the way she looked dishevelled and breathing heavily. The things he would do to be the one making her look like that...

"Sorry, Evans. I feel partially responsible for this predicament," He shook his head, trying to regain self-control. What was he thinking? This was Lily Evans he was thinking about. The girl who never failed to let him know just how much she wanted to strangle him at any given moment.

She said nothing, instead resumed studying his face. He sheepishly messed up his hair, unsure what to do with his body under her gaze.

"Oh, Christ, James," She said in annoyance, biting her lip softly.

"What did I do? I didn't know about the lock!" James said defensively, finding it odd that she was just now getting mad at him.

She rolled her eyes and just looked at him.

"Fuck it," She said, and before James could form a confused expression, her hands were pulling his neck forward, and her lips were being slammed against his.

"What the fuck?" James said, shock widening his eyes as he pulled away slightly. He clearly was baffled beyond logical thinking and reason because Lily would be shoved up against the door if he were thinking clearly. There was no way that Lily Evans, the same Lily Evans that swore she wouldn't ever go out with him not even nine months ago, had just kissed him. Passionately, at that.

"Are you complaining?" She asked, a soft smirk resting on the lips that James was just kissing.

"What-No? Of course not, I just-"

"Then shut up," She whispered, feeling her way from his neck to his tie, which she pulled him forward with so their faces were close again, "And give me a good snog."

"Yes, ma'am," James smirked and tilted his head, pushing her against the door and kissing her firmly without a second thought.

#jily #jily fic #james and lily #james potter and lily evans #james potter supremacy #james and lily potter #lily and james #lily evans and james potter

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tickle-bugs · 3 years

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Patience (and Silence) is a Virtue

Summary: In his commitment to restlessness, Anakin discovers something about Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan can't let him get away with that, of course.

Anon: Hi I don't know if you're taking prompts at the moment but would you consider writing a fic where Obi wan is tickling anakin, maybe where it's during the clone wars and anakin is being restless and teasing Obi wan so he decides to put him in his place?? Or something obviously if you're not taking prompts don't worry! But if you're that would be really cute

Do not tag this as ship. Don't do it.

Anakin had a critical inability to stay still, Obi-Wan noticed. He had become calmer and more focused under his wing, sure, but he was restless to his very core. Other Jedi masters would certainly have found his fidgeting to be a nuisance, something to be expunged--Obi-Wan saw it as human. For the things they’d seen and had to do, a little humanity was very welcome.

Except now, of course.

Anakin paced past Obi-Wan for nearly the twentieth time this hour--he’d been doing laps around the room at a speed that’d put any trooper to shame. Obi-Wan’s attempts at meditation had given him some measure of calm, but inner peace was hard to find with your protégé stomping past you every moment.

“We are wasting time.”

“There’s nothing to be done but wait,” Obi-Wan murmured, unwilling to release his patterned breathing.

“I can’t just sit around.” Anakin switched directions, pacing the other way.

“You are far too eager, Anakin.” Obi-Wan shifted slightly, but did not rise.

“And you are far too boring!” He snapped, but it held no real venom. Obi-Wan sighed deeply, dropping his head, and the relaxation promptly left his bones. He stood, brushing himself off, and Anakin watched him tensely.

“Perhaps a bit of sparring would do you some good.” Obi-Wan drew his lightsaber and beckoned him closer, already assuming a combat position. Anakin drew his, twirling it idly, and they circled each other.

For all of Anakin’s restlessness, he paid rapt attention in the field. Obi-Wan could see the gears turning in his head as they circled one another, waiting for Anakin to inevitably make the first move.

They exchanged a flurry of blows, sending blue sparks flying into the air around them. One of the strikes set Obi-Wan unexpectedly off-balance and Anakin used the opportunity to press his advantage, crowding in closer to force a surrender. Obi-Wan smirked--he could never resist playing dirty when an opportunity arose--and squeezed Anakin’s side. He yelped, lightsaber flying into the air, and Obi-Wan caught it, sheathed it, and clipped it to his belt. He tried not to look too amused at Anakin’s pinkened face.

“Do you yield?”

“Never.” Anakin smirked, rushing forward. He swung at Obi-Wan and he simply leaned to avoid it, hands tucked primly behind his back. A mistimed strike gave him an opening--he sidestepped and shoved Anakin forward and away.

“Your impatience will cost you if you aren’t careful. Again.” Obi-Wan readied himself as Anakin charged. Of course, he could never make things easy, but if he moved a tad slower to let Anakin get a few hits in? Ah, who’s to say.

Anakin locked Obi-Wan’s arm behind his back and started twisting out another forced surrender. It would’ve worked too, if Anakin’s stance didn’t leave his free hand wide open. Another lesson for another day, perhaps.

Obi-Wan reached back and grabbed at Anakin’s side, but he didn’t let up this time. He felt Anakin’s forehead smack into his back and heard the faint laughter floating up, but it took quite a few stubborn seconds for Anakin to actually let go.

“Excellent work.” Obi-Wan held out the captive lightsaber. Anakin took it gratefully.

“You absolutely cheated.” The silly smile on his face was contagious.

“I prefer calling it ‘alternative strategy’. Either way, you did well.” Obi-Wan squeezed his shoulder.

“Thank you, Master.”

“Of course. Now, for my sanity, I implore you to clear your mind. I’m not sure how much more pacing I can take.” Obi-Wan took a seat on the ground, and when his padawan didn’t move, he patted the space next to him until Anakin followed suit.

He could sense Anakin’s mind slowing beside him, falling deeper into the tides of the Force, and the comfort of it enveloped him. Obi-Wan allowed himself to drift inwards. His spirit floated away from his physical form and deeper into his psyche, deeper into peace. Tension left him in droves. He inhaled.

The air punched out of him, though, when Anakin started poking his upper ribs. He tried not to startle so visibly, but it was a little late for that.

“Are you trying to accomplish anything in particular?” He cleared his throat. Anakin could smell weakness, he was certain of it.

“Juuust testing a theory.” Anakin’s prodding fingers marched down his ribs and his fingers twitched minutely.

“You will not find what you’re seeking.” Obi-Wan’s voice strained against his better intentions. It took all of his strength not to move and a little more to appear calm.

“Are you sure?” Anakin reached Obi-Wan’s sides and didn’t let up. He exhaled a little too hard. He couldn’t allow himself even a smile—Anakin would never let him live it down.

“Of course, I’m—“

A lone giggle shattered their dialogue.

“Woah.” Anakin beamed, slow and steady. The dangerous sparkle in his eye was about one of the only things that could make Obi-Wan nervous.

“Anakin, I’m warning you—“ He didn’t get to finish. Anakin’s hands darted through the various folds and layers of his robes, seeking easier purchase, and found a delightful (read: terrible) spot around his waistline that pulled snickers from him like fresh taffy. He folded forward, falling into fuller laughter at curious scribbles upon his stomach, and Anakin gasped in wonder.

This was so alien to him, a relic of a life long gone. He found himself trying and failing to break up a cage match between his human instincts and his Jedi ones. Had what little shred of pride he had not been at stake, he would’ve fallen over under Anakin’s absurdly nimble hands.

“This is the best day of my life.” Anakin laughed, letting his fingers slip beneath Obi-Wan’s arms, and the subsequent bark of laughter surprised them both.

It’s about to be your last. Though he couldn’t possibly stay mad at the way Anakin was lit up. Perhaps it would be alright to let him win. Just once in a while.

Not today, though.

“I wish you hadn’t done that.” He hit Anakin with a gentle pulse of the Force, enough to push him back. Anakin’s face settled into playful terror in real time and he fled, making a hopeless dash for the door. Obi-Wan watched him run--he’d gotten faster lately--before grabbing him by the belt with the Force and throwing him back across the room. He caught Anakin bodily in his arms.

“No, wait—“

“Consider this a lesson in patience, ambition, and sensitivity. Especially the latter.” Obi-Wan locked his arms around Anakin’s waist and lifted him clear off the ground, burying his fingers into as much torso as he could. He burst into squeaky laughter, rife with voice cracks, and threw his head back, narrowly avoiding cracking open Obi-Wan’s nose.

“Oh, looks like you may have a thing or two to teach me!” Obi-Wan grabbed handfuls of Anakin’s sides and he snorted around his next bout of laughter.

“Obi-Wan pleahahase!”

“You know I am not a stickler for rules, but do remember your manners. You could get in some nasty trouble.” He swept Anakin’s feet out from under him, still tickling, and lowered him to the ground, taking great care to avoid the flailing limbs.

“I’m gonna die!” Anakin fruitlessly scrabbled at Obi-Wan’s torso to get the upper hand. Obi-Wan hooked his arm around Anakin’s and pulled it up, exposing the perfect landing strip for pinching fingers.

“Nonsense. You’re so close to being free! Wiggle out from my grip there—oh, you’ve made it worse. Hm.” Obi-Wan clawed at Anakin’s stomach with two hands and an iron grip. Anakin tried to pry the evil hands away, but his strength and coordination had evacuated long ago.

He swung his legs back and forth, kicking wildly, and Obi-Wan was proud of the little momentum he had. It was a clever idea--using momentum to break free of the hold. A fruitless idea, but a clever one nonetheless. Obi-Wan crossed his arms over Anakin’s torso, burying his hands beneath his arms, and the resulting shriek had Obi-Wan chuckling.

“This is wonderfully endearing, Anakin, but not at all effective.” On the next swing, Obi-Wan caught Anakin’s knee and wormed his fingers behind it. Anakin threw his head back and cackled wildly, all bright smiles and nose-scrunched laughter, and Obi-Wan had no qualms with admitting how much the sight lifted his spirits.

“I see the problem. You’re laughing too hard to focus.”

“You thihink?” Anakin squinted at him.

“I do. Try laughing less and see where that gets you.” Obi-Wan rained a hail of pinches down upon his hips and the fight was lost. Anakin made a noise like a ship’s hyperdrive starting up and flailed hard—he caught Obi-Wan in the chest with a stray punch. An endless stream of high-pitched, hysterical giggles bubbled out of Anakin and he did his best to muffle them, but Obi-Wan’s fingers on his neck ensured that he couldn’t.

“You’re turning rather red. Is something the matter?” Gloating was unbecoming, sure, but the two of them had always done things a bit differently. Besides, this was beyond endearing. He’d earned a little teasing.

“I give!” Anakin yelped, scrunching as much as possible. Obi-Wan’s fingers slowed.

“Good. You seemed intent on passing out.” Obi-Wan poked his stomach and Anakin snickered.

“One day,” Anakin wheezed, “I am going to destroy you.”

“I would love to see you try.” Obi-Wan extended a hand towards Anakin, glowing with pride, and he took it.

Did Anakin’s promise send a minute shiver up his spine? Perhaps, but he was never one to turn down an entertaining fight.

#my fics #star wars #ticklish!obi wan #ticklish!anakin #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #i dont like this one all that much but im gonna give it a sequel! i think it's gonna be cute :)

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ibijau · 3 years

Text

A Little Help pt3 / On AO3

A third secret meeting between Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen

Nie Huaisang barely made it out of the Unclean Realm this time. In truth, he would have preferred not to leave at all. Distance hadn’t been such an obstacle thus far after all. Lan Xichen, after some hesitation, had agreed to send the score for Cleansing to Nie Huaisang, along with detailed written instruction on how to play it.

Nie Huaisang had taken it as another proof that Lan Xichen could be impossibly naive for a man this clever. It would have been so easy to sell the score of that song to interested party. Certainly, Su Minshan would have paid a real fortune to get his hands on that. Not that Nie Huaisang would ever have traded with someone as slimy as Su She, but he could have, and Lan Xichen shouldn’t have trusted him so easily.

Then again, they’d had no other choice. Nie Mingjue had barely accepted the excuse his brother had given for leaving without permission last time, and Nie Huaisang hadn’t been sure he could have gotten away with it again. He had hated admitting that to Lan Xichen, but Lan Xichen had been very kind in his reply, reminding him that this was only the result of a deep imbalance, that Nie Mingjue loved him and trusted him. And Lan Xichen was right of course, but lately it was a little too easy to forget that.

Lately, Nie Huaisang had become scared of his brother, the way he’d once become scared of their father.

For the past two months, Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen had only communicated through letters and hidden messages, taking ever increasing precautions not to be discovered. Nie Mingjue would have had a fit if he’d learned his brother was conspiring against him, and Lan Xichen remained worried his brother would be harmed if he was discovered to have gone against the Lans’ council of elders. But there was only so far their plan could go without meeting in person again, and Nie Huaisang was forced to eventually agree to meet again, at that same spot as before.

As before, Lan Xichen was waiting for him, wearing a robe of blue so dark it almost looked black. The colour suited him well, better in fact than the usual white of his sect which washed him out. Not that Nie Huaisang had time to spare on such frivolities, not this time.

After the briefest of greetings, Lan Xichen asked to hear the progress he’d made regarding Cleansing, and Nie Huaisang was only too happy to oblige. Time, more than on their previous meetings, was of the essence.

Nervous as he was, Nie Huaisang did his best to play the song appropriately. He paid attention to each note, infusing them with what little spiritual energy he could offer at every key moment, making sure to play at exactly the right speed. It was strenuous work to play that song, but the thought of his brother’s health had pushed him to put more effort into this than he ever had in anything.

By the time he finished playing the song, Nie Huaisang felt a little weak, and his head was spinning. Thankfully Lan Xichen was sitting right next to him, and Nie Huaisang was able to lean against his side to rest a moment.

“You did very well,” Lan Xichen said, briefly wrapping one arm around Nie Huaisang’s shoulders before quickly removing it, afraid perhaps to act improperly, even when there was no one to see them. “I think you only need a little more practice and you’ll be ready to play it.”

“How soon?” Nie Huaisang asked, pulling away from the other man. “A week? Two? I’ll practice until my fingers bleed, and you can fight off your elders, and…”

Lan Xichen frowned. “Huaisang, it’s not that simple.”

“But I don’t know if I have more time. We need to act soon!” Nie Huaisang urged, grasping Lan Xichen’s hand. “Da-ge is… he’s been like this too long, and he’s really not getting better on his own. I think he’s even getting worse.”

It had been Lan Xichen’s theory that without the corrupted song played to him so regularly, Nie Mingjue might start recovering on his own, without the need for more Lan songs. Nie Huaisang had thought that was more likely than himself ever mastering a complex piece of magic in a matter of mere weeks.

Hope was a bitch.

“I’ve heard he’s become… quite aggressive toward small sects that are taking the Jins’ side,” Lan Xichen cautiously said.

Nie Huaisang miserably nodded, prompting Lan Xichen to gently squeeze his hand.

It had always been Nie Mingjue’s problem that he saw things in black and white, good or bad. That mentality used to be balanced out by his conviction that most people were honest, with only a few bad apples here and there.

Nie Mingjue didn’t believe that anymore.

“You have to do something,” Nie Huaisang said. “You have to make a statement, to let everyone know that da-ge isn’t crazy, that the Jins really did attack him! Otherwise he’ll just end up all alone, like…”

“Like the Wens?”

“More like Wei Wuxian,” Nie Huaisang whispered. He felt Lan Xichen shudder at his side, but refused to look at the other man and glared instead of the guqin before them. “Er-ge, you have to do something, you have to help, you have to!”

“They still have Wangji,” Lan Xichen replied. “I don’t dare… It would be so easy for the council to order his death. Not only that, but they could make the whole world applaud. Just one sentence from them, and even your brother would rejoice at Wangji’s execution. You as well, perhaps.”

"What could he have done to…"

"I trust you with almost anything, Huaisang,” Lan Xichen quietly said, taking both of the other man’s hands in his, his expression painfully earnest. “But this is not something I can tell you. Even telling you that Wangji's actions put such a threat on his life is too much, but it was the only way to show you I’m not… indifferent to the situation. I just don’t have a choice. You seek to save your brother, and I have to protect mine.”

A fair point, and yet Nie Huaisang grimaced. He simply couldn’t imagine what Lan Wangji, always a stickler for rules, could have done to deserve death. But with Lan Xichen holding his hands like that, it was impossible to ignore the wild beatings of his heart, as if he were truly terrified on his brother’s behalf. If Lan Xichen said that Lan Wangji was in such danger, it had to be true.

“What if… what if you sent him somewhere safe?” Nie Huaisang suggested. “I don’t know the situation, but if he just left, maybe…”

Lan Xichen’s hold on his hands tightened.

“Wangji is not currently in a state of health where it would be wise for him to wander the world or hide in wilderness,” Lan Xichen explained. “Not to mention…”

He hesitated, staring at Nie Huaisang as if searching for something on his face. “It is not just about Wangji,” Lan Xichen confessed. “He’s declared himself the protector of a young orphan he found somewhere. The council of elders has agreed to let this child reside safely within the Cloud Recesses, but only as long as Wangji behaves.”

That certainly complicated things, but it also made sense. It explained why Lan Wangji, in spite of having done some horrible deed that went against his sect’s morals, would remain with them. It could also have been the mere fact that Lan Wangji was definitely the sort of person who believed in rules even when they had negative consequences for himself… but few men kept that sort of belief when the consequences in question were their own death. While if there was a child…

“If your brother could be offered a safe house of sorts where to hide with that child until everything is under control again, would he accept?” Nie Huaisang asked.

“Perhaps, if I explained to him why I need him to disappear for a while,” Lan Xichen replied, a small crease forming on his brow. “But I’m not sure there’s anyone who would accept to hide him at the moment. Not when I’m almost certain the elders might reveal…”

“Er-ge, let me make you a promise,” Nie Huaisang said, gently squeezing the other man’s hands. “Because you see, I own a house a little way out of Qinghe. My father bought it for my mother when they married, for when she needed to retire somewhere quiet, and when she died it went to me. It’s abandoned now, and in disrepair. It’s also quite isolated. So here is my promise: if you trust me enough to send Wangji there with that child of his, I won’t reveal he’s there, no matter what I learn about him. Whether he killed someone, or consorted with demons… even if he ate human flesh, even if he used evil ways to improve his cultivation… no matter what terrible people he associated with, or how inhumane his deeds… as long as he is inside my mother’s house, I will not tell a soul where he is, for your sake.”

And for his own sake as well, Nie Huaisang thought, knowing his brother and him desperately needed an ally, someone the cultivation world would not dismissed as biased against the Jin or touched by madness.

That little declaration had exactly the effect Nie Huaisang hoped for. Lan Xichen froze, his grasp on Nie Huaisang’s hands nearly painful. His face, so pale a moment before, took on a warmer hue visible even in this dark night, while his eyes shone as if he might cry. Before he could shed any tears, Lan Xichen let go of Nie Huaisang's hand so he could pull him into a crushing hug.

Nie Huaisang only hesitated only a moment before returning that hug. It was just a ploy to get Lan Xichen to finally act, nothing more, but he hadn't been hugged in so long, and it felt good to be held that way.

"Huaisang, I am so grateful that you would offer this," Lan Xichen whispered, sounding as if he might really start crying. "But I can't accept. It's too dangerous. If your brother found out, in his current state…"

Nie Huaisang pulled back, not quite breaking the hug, but enough to bring his hands to Lan Xichen's face, cupping his cheeks the way he'd seen some particularly besotted lovers do.

"You help me with my brother, I help you with yours," Nie Huaisang said with more earnestness than he'd planned. "We're in this together, so please trust me as much as I trust you."

Lan Xichen could only stare at him with an expression of such open affection that Nie Huaisang almost felt guilty for using it against him.

Guilt, surely, was the only reason he felt almost dizzy while held so closely, and gazed at with such tenderness, the explanation for his heart beating too fast.

Nie Huaisang felt guilty, but it was all to protect his brother. And it was also to protect his brother that he impulsively pressed his lips to Lan Xichen's.

If that didn't convince him to do what was right…

But it did the trick, just as planned. When they stopped kissing, too breathless to go on, Lan Xichen looked as if he would have gathered every star in the sky, should Nie Huaisang have asked for them.

"I will talk to Wangji," Lan Xichen promised. "I will convince him… I doubt he'll put up much resistance. He doesn't like that they're using little A-Yuan against him, and he'll like it even less when he find they're using him against me."

Nie Huaisang agreed, and gave a detailed explanation on how to find his mother's house, and described where he'd hidden some money there, in case if emergency. Nie Huaisang doubted that he would be able to go greet Lan Wangji for fear of attracting attention, but he could provide some help even from a distance.

"I am for ever in your debt, Huaisang," Lan Xichen said, stealing a quick kiss. "I swear I will repay it. I'll make sure everyone knows the truth about Jin Guangyao, I will force my sect to stand with da-ge. Just hold on a little longer."

"I trust you," Nie Huaisang replied, stealing a kiss as well. "And until da-ge can see again you are truly his friend, I'll keep practising your song. We're going to save him!"

"We are," Lan Xichen agreed.

He looked so happy as he said that, as if it truly mattered to him to help Nie Mingjue, and that in turn made Nie Huaisang’s heart race in his chest. He might forgive Lan Xichen for having sided a while with the wrong sworn brother, he thought. Lan Xichen was doing his best to correct his mistake after all, the way a true friend would do.

In fact, Nie Huaisang might have already more than half forgiven him.

Still, just to make sure Lan Xichen remembered he had much to gain by doing the right thing, Nie Huaisang kissed him again. Just for safety, he told himself. And the next kiss was to distract Lan Xichen so he wouldn't ask too many questions about Nie Mingjue's current state.

For the last kiss they shared, Nie Huaisang had no excuses. He had just felt unbearably scared as they both prepared to head home, and he'd wanted a last moment of warmth and tenderness before returning to the coldness and isolation of the Unclean Realm.

It might not have been his smartest decision to have lost time with that. Dawn was starting to colour the sky when Nie Huaisang finally reached home. Not that it mattered much, he told himself. The secret passage he used to get out was well out of the way. It also wouldn't surprise anyone if he slept later than strictly reasonable once he made it to his room. Or else if he was spotted inside the Unclean Realm, he'd just say he'd wanted to do a bit of bird-watching and got up early. That always worked.

What he didn't have was an easy explanation being discovered outside the Unclean Realm by his brother, just as he was about to enter that secret passage.

"I swear it’s not what you think," Nie Huaisang cried out, but the expression on his brother’s face only darkened.

This time, Nie Huaisang was in trouble.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #forbidden romance au #nhs: ahah lxc is so naive sometimes and way too trusting #also nhs: anyway time to put my full trust in him about everything ever

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purple-dahlias · 3 years

Text

day six- hidden injury

wc: 1804 requested: no warnings: self harm, injury

Sarah hadn’t meant it to go this far, not in the least. At least, that was what she told herself. And really, she had managed so long without it, years in fact. Only for things to start crumbling now. And no, she’ll never let anyone know. Doesn’t want to bother anyone. It’s not that big of a deal, anyway, she’ll tell herself. Nothing she can’t handle herself. Nothing she hasn’t had to handle herself before. And all her problems, well, they just feel so pedestrian. That was what she had told Dr Richardson. Plenty of people felt that way, right. Lots of people did that. It wasn’t exactly uncommon. Maybe not talked of so much, but not something rare. In any case, she had got herself out of it before, and she would do it again, right?

At some point, she would, she told herself.

She tries to be careful. Wears long sleeves. Remembers to keep her white coat on at all times. Tries to avoid situations where she might have to scrub in. Which, luckily for her, since becoming a psychiatry resident, don’t occur very often anymore. And she’s meticulous with cleaning. Making sure everything is sterile. No chance of infection. Her bathroom cabinet well stocked with bandages and plasters and antiseptic wipes. Even a suture pack she had managed to lift from the ED one day. Just in case. She hadn’t needed it so far, though. And she wasn’t planning on it. That was what she told herself.

And oh, how wrong she was.

It’s a Tuesday morning and Sarah is late.

She’s supposed to be at Med by now, Dr Charles will be expecting her to round on their patients and instead, she’s sat on the bathroom floor, leaning against the bath panel, the cursed suture kit on the floor beside her, face contorted in pain.

Maybe things had gone too far.

Perhaps she should have thought to try and bring back some lidocaine as well.

But no. You did this to yourself, Sarah Reese.

And it’s ironic. Because she had inflicted that pain on herself. And now she couldn’t do it again to fix it. Typical.

—

“Hey, have any of you seen Sarah?” Dr Charles asks, approaching the nurses’ station in the ED, where Natalie, and Noah are stood.

Natalie shakes her head, just as Maggie calls out for her, sending her off to treatment three.

“I didn’t see her car parked outside,” Noah responds.

“Yeah, me either.”

“She hasn’t called in sick, has she?”

“No,” confirms Dr Charles, brow furrowed. The Sarah Reese he knew was always so responsible, a stickler for rules, so it was unlike her not to notify someone of her absence.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so, we’d arranged to have lunch together today, so…”

“And Sarah’s not really one to break her plans,” the head of psychiatry muses.

“I can try and call her,” Noah offers helpfully.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Dr Charles nods as Noah fishes his phone out of his pocket, only to find the dial tone to ring out with no answer.

“You sure she’s not upstairs?”

“No, I’m sure she’s not. I did page her, but no luck.”

“Well, um, if you like I can go round to hers… check on her?” Noah offers, picking up on the worry in the normally level, calm voice of the psychiatrist.

“That’s good of you,” Dr Charles smiles, clapping Noah on the back

“No problem,” Noah returns, with a promise to update him when he found Sarah, watching as Dr Charles turns, making his way to the elevators and away from the emergency department.

One thing was for sure, Dr Charles was grateful Sarah had Noah for a friend. Even if Sarah wasn’t the most vocal person, he knew she’d been dealing with a lot lately, that much was clear. And he knew how important it was to have people around you who cared.

It’s not long after that conversation that Noah finds himself faced with the front door of Sarah’s apartment, having knocked, awaiting an answer.

When there’s no answer, he knocks louder. “Sarah,” he calls out. “It’s Noah. Dr Charles wanted me to come and check up on you because you didn’t show up for rounds.”

Still nothing.

Knowing she kept a spare key under the mat, Noah fishes it out, turning it in the lock.

“Sarah, I’m coming in, alright,” he warns, entering the apartment.

The curtains are still drawn across the windows, Sarah’s bag is in its place by the door, her coat hangs on a peg in the hall. Sure signs she is still here. He calls out to her, moving through the few rooms until he comes to the bathroom, the door half open, a head of brown curls just about visible.

“Sarah what—"

The words die on his lips as he takes in the scene: Sarah hunched up against the side of the bath, knees pulled up to her chest. He sees the suture kit, the gash on Sarah’s arm, how pale she is. And, most of all, how frightened she looks at seeing him there, how she just about refuses to meet his eyes.

“Sarah,” Noah begins again, trying to compose himself.

“Noah what are you doing here?” It’s said so forcefully through gritted teeth that if it was any other time, any other situation, any other person, Noah would have taken it as his cue to leave. But he couldn’t leave her. Not like this. Not after what he’s seen.

“Dr Charles sent me to check on you,” he tries.

“Well I’m fine,” she grits out, firmly, covering her arm as best she could.

“No, you’re not.”

“Please, Noah, just go. You’re supposed to be working,” her tone is different now, she’s almost begging him to go. He’s not going to, though.

“So are you,” he counters, inching closer. “Sarah what happened?” Noah tries, tone softening.

“It’s nothing, really.”

“That doesn’t look like nothing,” Noah reaches for Sarah’s arm, and Sarah snatches it away, fighting through the pain.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she huffs. She wishes he would just go back to the hospital and leave her be.

“Fine. But Sarah, I have to ask. Did you do this yourself?”

Yes she thinks. Yes I did.

“I think you already know the answer to that one,” is what she says instead. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have to ask.” It comes out harshly. But really, the anger isn’t directed at him. It’s all directed inward. At herself, for allowing this to happen, at herself for getting caught.

“But Sarah— why.”

And it all comes out. She finds she just can’t keep it hidden any longer.

“I— I don’t know. I just. I can’t anymore. And I haven’t done this since I was fourteen, and now… Noah I don’t know what to do!” Sarah is sobbing freely now, her shoulders shaking as Noah sits down beside her on the cold tile of the bathroom floor, holding her close, careful of her arm. He notices the scars and the cuts littering her arms, in various stages of healing. It pains him to see this, to know this. That Sarah had been struggling for so long without anyone noticing.

“Oh Sarah—” Noah begins, smoothing her hair with one hand, the other rubbing circles into the small of her back.

“Stop. Stop feeling sorry for me.” Sarah scrubs at her eyes, willing the tears away.

“I’m not. I just. I hate that I’m here seeing you hurt, and you know I— I can’t take that away from you.”

“Then go. You won’t have to see then.”

“I’m not leaving you like this Sarah. Do you mind if I take a look?” He asks her. Carefully, levelly, eyes trained on her all the while.

“Fine.” Sarah agrees finally, and Noah has to fight back a gasp as he sees the full extent of the injury. Luckily, as far has he can tell, the wounds aren’t deep enough to have caused any significant damage, but really, as an assessment, he knows the damage is already done. Not physically, but it is there.

“Okay Sarah, we need to clean this up and get it stitched, alright.” Noah keeps his tone calm, knowing that showing any sign of panic would do neither of them any good.

Sarah merely nods.

“This is going to sting, okay,” he warns, taking an antiseptic wipe out of the first aid kit beside them.

“Unfortunately you’re going to feel every step of this because I don’t have anything to numb you with. Think you can be brave for me?”

Another nod, but it’s all Noah needs before he gets to work.

Sarah doesn’t watch as he begins. She keeps her eyes down, trained on the floor, counting the tiles, teeth gritted as she tries to fill her head with something. Anything. Any thoughts that aren’t about what is happening right now.

When he’s finally done, the two sit in silence, both leaning against the bath, side by side. And it’s then that Sarah finally looks. Noah had bandaged up her arm, the stitches hidden beneath the dressings. The memory of what she had done there. But hidden. Out of sight, but not out of mind.

“So, uh,” Noah’s voice tears into her thoughts. “You wanna maybe sit somewhere a little more comfortable and less cold?”

And it’s just so Noah of him to say, his tone making it sound like he’s asking her to move and sit at one of the tables inside the hospital cafeteria instead of outside, rather than what he’s actually doing, which is asking her to get up off the bathroom floor after he’d stitched up the cuts she had made.

So Sarah makes the choice. She allows herself to be helped up, she allows herself to be led from the bathroom. She lets Noah guide her to the couch, wrap a blanket round her shoulders and disappear off into the kitchen, only to watch him come back a few minutes later, a steaming mug of tea in hand that he sets down beside her.

Still wordlessly, Noah takes a seat next to Sarah, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close to him. He had sent a message to Dr Charles while he had been in the kitchen, letting him know what had happened. He knew that Sarah would need to address what had happened, that there would be a long road ahead of her. That him finding her that morning wasn’t the end of it, didn’t mean that Sarah was out of the woods. But Noah would be there. He would be there with Sarah, for her. He would be there until she was ready, and long afterward. And this was the start. Sarah herself knows that, too.

#medtober2021 #sarah reese #noah sexton #dr charles #platonic rexton #self harm tw #chicago med #my writing #idk this is very bad

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hey-a-wild-jojo-simp · 3 years

Text

Okay, college professor headcanons for JoJo’s Bizarre Adventures

Included characters: Dio (Part three, not vampire, fairly out of character, so sorry about that), Jonathan, Avdol, Joseph, Caesar, Polnareff with a little bit of Iggy, Kakyoin, Jotaro, and a bonus of Okuyasu, Josuke, and Koichi teaching a self-defense class to their peers (Not college profs)

Dio

He is part three in this btw, and he isn’t a vampire, I was thinking about the whole night class thing and deadass forgot he was a vampire

He teaches a night class

He teaches a criminal forensics class

No matter how many students he has at any given time, he knows them all by first and last name

He absolutely allows cussing in his class and takes full advantage of this rule

He will without a doubt notice attitude shifts in his students and will be fairly straightforward about it in his office after asking them to stay for a while after class or after they’re done with classes for the day to talk to them about it

He’s the cool professor

He only refers to students by their last name if he’s mad at them

He has his students skip titles and just call him Dio

He has helped students remove smell from their cars after someone left food in it and they didn’t know and it ended up rotting, or if they had stoner friends they had to pick up

It doesn’t matter if they aren’t in his class he’ll help them

He takes time out of his night/morning to help his students

He shows up about 5 or so hours before school starts and allows students who live in noisy ares to come in to sleep, he sets up pillows and everything

It doesn’t matter if he isn’t their first class he still lets them come in

Basically as far from canon Dio as you can get, just with appearance and accent, along with a few tendencies to snap at his students

He brings in meals on exam days because he knows students skip meals

Jonathan

You’ll literally never get lighter homework in any other class (Besides maybe Joseph)

He doesn’t allow cussing, he won’t report you for it. but will scold you, which normally gets anyone to stop, because no one wants to upset this man, he’s too nice to his students

He will report his students for any form of slurs, and that is the only time he will get angry unless one student is actively attacking another verbally or physically

He has stepped in front of a student in the parking lot who was being mugged and just knocked the mugger on their ass

Constantly jokingly butting heads with the criminal forensics teacher, sometimes gets heated between the two

They’re step siblings

Very few students know this

He’s a ELA (English language arts) teacher

MASSIVE golden retriever vibes, super energetic, loves his students, is the kind of man who would take one of his student’s secrets to the grave (As long as it wasn’t something like self harm or being a victim of a crime)

An absolute lumbering machine of a man, he seems imposing at first, until he breaks out into a smile and laying down the few ground rules, telling his students to feel free to talk to him about anything bugging them

Much like his brother, he brings in meals on exam days

He will fall, no if about it, it’s an inevitable thing, all of his students will see it at some point

The room normally erupts into chaos of running around and picking up his papers and freaking out about whether or not he’s okay until he looks up and is just an absolute blushing mess and he’s laughing

After the first time people still help pick up papers but it isn’t as chaotic

This man is so understanding about late work

He encouraged an enby (Born female) to get their hair cut to a mullet and made a 360 video for them to show to their barber

Absolutely would understand anything his students were going through or would at least try his best

He will hug his students if they’re having a rough time

Can be counted on to extend due dates unreasonable amounts for large projects

Avdol

Stickler about late work

He does love his students, but for every 3 school days something is late, a point gets marked off

Unless you have good reason

Is a recreational class on astrology and other forms of psychic readings (I have no doubt that’s a class, my sister almost took a class on the history of James Bond)

He also brings in tea for his students daily

Will talk to his students if he sees them in public

Widely loved by students

Amazingly attuned with his students

Not many other details that stand out about him

Joseph

He’s that one guy that no one is really sure what he teaches

The presentations from student projects end up being the kinds that end up being iconic(?) images like the “How I lost my virginity to a mint cookie” thing, because no one knows what the presentations are supposed to be on

It’s harder to fail than it is to pass, seeing as if you forget to turn something in you have to remind him to mark it as missing, otherwise it just sits as not turned in, not as late, so it won’t affect your grade

He shows a lot of movies in class

Brought in a gaming system once and held a tourney amongst the students in all of his classes

There isn’t a single student who doesn’t like him

Caesar

Cooking class

Lets his students eat what they cook after the taste test for grading

Is often brought flowers by his students after they inevitably find out his love for the colorful displays

Let’s be quite honest, we know Joseph is the one that exposes this

The two of them have a running joke of bringing each other jokingly “romantic” gifts as a show of their friendship

He was at first quite uncomfortable with the students bringing him flowers as it is generally quite a, romantic I could say, gesture (Funny lil’ side note, I was a weird child, apparently I thought as like, a 4 yr old I would have multiple husbands, and this guy that’s like, 7 or so years older than me was one of them, apparently planned to be the last???? I dunno lmao, but he brought me flowers because it’s now a running joke and we’re now sorta friends, anyways, he brought me flowers when I was 9, at least I think I was 9, but his girlfriend got mad???? Like hun, I'm not going to steal your man) until he started getting notes in them (Will post those in a later post)

He blushes very heavily upon receiving the flowers, any blush at all is extremely prevalent and he gets flustered and very happy upon receiving the flowers, his students have likened him to a blushing schoolboy

Has a fondness for paintings of nature, which have also been brought in as gifts by students, and they all get hung on his wall, which is always a great surprise to the students that paint them.

Polnareff

He teaches French

He brings in pastries

Very comedic

I don’t really know what else besides he's just a friend more so than a teacher to all of his students

He definitely brings in Iggy frequently, though he makes sure to keep the coffee gum accessible to himself, but not where Iggy could easily get to it

All of his students love Iggy

Iggy will curl up in students’ laps if he likes them enough

Kakyoin

He teaches a history of gaming

Tournies in his class

He’s a bruh dud, just a friend more so than he is a teacher

Doesn’t give two fucks about late work policy cause there is rarely ever any late work from his students

I dunno, his students bring him a bunch of cherry stuff lol, a mini bean bag that looks like a cherry, cherry pastries, cherries grown by the students, maraschino cherries, even a hat that looked like a cherry

Jotaro (Part 4 Jotaro)

Marine biology, duh

An absolute hardass

Half points for late work unless you have a damn good excuse

A student brought him a dolphin stuffed animal once, and Star Platinum broke out in happy tears (No stand using students) while Jotaro kept his composure, although he did crack a smile

Deadass takes students on aquarium trips I shit you not

Secretly loves all of his students

Most of his students love him

Bonus

Okuyasu, Josuke, Koichi, all canon age of part 4, not college profs

Self-defense classes

Open to any gender

Very kind but firm

Okuyasu either makes people laugh or cry or confused

Koichi normally comforts the people who end up crying

Josuke heals everyone up after sparring matches and is also a sparring partner to many

Tomoko may pop in every so often for some harassment tips to the participants

#jjba headcanons #jotaro headcanons #kakyoin headcanons #okuyasu headcanons #Koichi headcanons #joseph joestar headcanons #jonathan joestar headcanons #josuke higashikata headcanons #polnareff headcanons #dio headcanons #part 3 dio #caesar zeppeli headcanons #muhammad avdol headcanons #iggy headcanons #college professor headcanons #no one dies #not canon dio

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silvanable · 3 years

Note

Hello! I really like your writing so im here with a request! Lilia, Leona and Riddle with stressed s/o. S/o avoid them and dont want boys to see s/o so weak and pathetic. Thank you for your hard work! <3

hi darling! i’m happy that you like my writing, it really helps me continue knowing that people enjoy what i write despite how chaotic and inconsistent i can be~

i intended to write this before finals but i missed that window for me at least oops.

this was the perfect request for this, especially since i know a lot of people are still facing finals as we wrap up the remainder of the year! thank the stars we’re almost done with this fucked up year!

↪ GUIDELINES

— LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

when it comes to avoiding leona because of stress, he doesn’t always catch on super quick that something is wrong.

really he sees it as his s/o needing space, just like him, and he doesn’t go out of his way to check up on them for a while.

this is especially true if his darling is female, as well all know leona drinks his ‘respects women juice’, so he’s more inclined to give her space.

in any other case, he still believes in giving them space but after a while he will start to pick up on something being wrong.

he starts to notice a pattern with how his darling avoids him in the hall, will see him on the path and turn around, or how they dodge him when he tries to corner them.

the flighty behavior pisses him off the most, because now he cant nap in peace without tossing and turning with them on his mind and what he did to make them avoid him.

would take it the hardest out of everyone at nrc, with his inferiority complex, not being good enough, and all.

would also be the most aggressive on confrontation— not that he would physically hurt them but he might grab their arm just a little too rough or push them against the wall harder than necessary.

he’ll be towering over his s/o as he snarls out a, “am i not good enough for you anymore?”

a mixture of reactions can come from this but the most apparent one, with the building stress of everything, is just for them to start crying.

leona is struck by their tears so abruptly he might actually take a step back, because out of all the things he expected as a response, their broken expression and tears is not one of them.

his darling will be blabbering out apologizes and how they didn’t mean to, how they just didn’t want him to see them like this, and how crowley has been stressing them out and all the trouble with grim and classes as the year began to wrap up was just too much.

all while they are blubbering on, leona is uncertain on how to respond or even really console them.

it’s a moment of softness leona will display as he grabs their hands and pulls them away from their face, offering a hesitant shush.

“you’re ridiculous, herbivore,” he’ll mutter out as he brushes their tears with his thumb, “you could have come to me.”

sure leona would never have been one to offer his help out so willing but this was for them and if they needed help controlling that ungrateful furball, he would help and make ruggie babysit grim.

and he’s not above chewing out the headmaster to get him of his darling’s ass and give them a breather.

“i didn’t want you to think i was weak—”

definitely feels guilt after hearing that, because everything his s/o did was to avoid him because they thought he would think lesser of them.

would tell them to shut up with a grumble and drag them off to the botanical, because obviously they need a break and he needs a nap.

— LILIA VANROUGE

lilia is, out of everyone, the one to catch the shift in his s/o mood the easiest and quickest. something he picked up being alive for so long.

with that lilia is also the one to let them have your space for a time to let them try and sort it out on their own— but the moment he sees how hard they’re struggling he takes a different approach.

lilia confronts you about it but is especially mild, asking if there has been something to upset you and where he was the cause, because he certainly wants to correct his actions if he did do something.

it makes them feel so much more guilt, especially because they should have known that lilia would notice something.

telling him is an effort— it’s no secret that he’s far older than his youthful appearances leads others to believe.

and something as simple as school stress??

it was laughable and pathetic in their eyes when they thought about it in comparison to lilia’s long life...

he coaxes it gently from them nonetheless and finally when they give in, they can barely make it through a sentence without bursting into tears.

it breaks the old fae’s heart to see you come unravelled like that and it hurts even more knowing that you somehow got the impression he wouldn’t care or found it pathetic.

and all the while his darling is staring at the floor, gasping and stuttering between sobs, trying to stop their tears only to cry further

“ah, ah—” he clicks his tongue, gathering up his s/o’s face in his hands so they look at him. his expression uncharacteristically gentle.

“if it was so much trouble, dear, you could have come to me for help,” he reassures them, “i might be old but i think i can manage to learn a few more things if it helps you.”

will crack a lopsided smile at them, stroking the tears from their face with his thumb.

has a lingering feeling of guilt, which is new for him, that they somehow got such a backwards interpretation of him and how much he cares for them.

makes it a point afterwards to remind them from time to time that they can rely on him whenever they need— he’s here for them and wants to support and help them if they’re ever struggling.

— RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

riddle’s strict persona and being such a stickler for rules makes him often far more intense and unapproachable than he actually is.

it’s only worse for his s/o because they’re struggling with classes and keeping up— learning materials absolutely foreign to them and to top it off, the stress of having been thrusted into an entirely new and somewhat terrifying environment.

but of course after learning about the harsh environment riddle grew up in, they feel guilty over being so stressed when they’re probably just not paying attention or dedicating enough time to studying.

since his overblot, riddle has tried to be mellower and more understanding, patient even, but that does not ease the panic in his s/o.

it gets to the point where they are actively avoiding him.

at first it passes him by, but the following days he starts to notice how jumpy his darling is when they see him and how suddenly they’ve completely removed themselves from his presence.

it only finally pushes him to a point to chase them when after classes, he calls out their name when he sees them in the halls and they immediately dart in the other direction.

he literally has to chase them around the whole campus before finally tiring them out and cornering them.

now he’s more than a little hurt and definitely upset.

he’s ready to go off on them when they just burst into tears and crumbled to the floor.

so much for not appearing pathetic...

all and anything riddle was going to say or scold them with flies out the window and he’s suddenly frantic and on his knees hesitant to touch his darling.

“what’s wrong? are you okay? are you hurt?” questions are pouring from his mouth and his mind ins swimming that something is terribly wrong and suddenly he’s worrying if he was the cause of you getting hurt chasing you.

when his s/o finally manages to catch their breath, even as little hiccups between sobs, they’re apologizing and wiping their face with their hands trying to say that they’re fine, “it’s fine, it’s okay.”

he’s immediately shutting that talk down with a, “you are not fine, please talk to me,” he’s begging because he’s worried now.

there’s a silence that settles in between him and his darling as they suddenly find the ground between their legs very interesting...

riddle is surprisingly quiet the whole time, patient uncharacteristically so, and his hands are still hovering out in the open as he’s still deciding whether touch them is okay.

then his s/o speaks up in a small how everything about this world, not knowing if they’ll ever get back home, school, and pretty much anything that has bothered them since waking up in twisted wonderland falls from their lips in a rushed and in a quiet whisper at the end, add how they didn’t want to appear weak and pathetic to him...

finally riddle makes a move, awkwardly, but he moved and pulled his s/o forward into his arms— quick enough it startles them to stiffen up.

will feel endlessly guilty that his darling thought he would think so little of them and their problems, worse that they felt the need to bottle it up and run from him.

he’ll try to be a little sensitive to their needs, offering to study with them to help them understand since he’s got great marks in his classes, and constantly trying to find little ways to show them he really, really does care.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland leona #twst leona #leona kingscholar #twst riddle #twisted wonderland riddle #riddle rosehearts #twst lilia #twisted wonderland lilia #lilia vanrouge #headcanons

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deathbystereo87 · 3 years

Note

Hello! Am a big sucker for softie stuff, was curious for banter of the lost boys with a fem! vampiric runaway~?

A/N: This took me longer than expected to write, I apologize! I hope I wrote it to your standards, as I haven’t really written in character for the boys in almost a year!

Word count: 637 (it’s short, i know :/)

Warnings: Mention of injuries, dead bodies, and blood

Since the beginning of the week, David knew something was off. The boys seemed more on edge and Max was way grumpier than usual. He couldn’t figure out what was wrong, no matter how hard he tried.

That was until one day, he found a trail of a few dead bodies that weren’t his packs. It happened consecutively over the last few nights, and the unmistakable scent of another vampire lingered nearby.

“Boys, I think we got ourselves a trespasser,” David told his pack, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

While he didn’t particularly care if there was another vampire in Santa Carla, Max kept a keen eye out for any people crossing into his territory. He was a stickler for order, and the other packs knew that he ruled over this land.

Marko just sighed, “Do you think we should just drive them out of town? Or call Max.”

“Awww, I don’t wanna talk to him! Last time this happened, we got in trouble.” Paul exclaimed. The four of them always seemed to get blamed, as if they needed to make sure that no one entered.

Dwayne just nodded in agreement, looking around the surroundings.

David followed the scent to the middle of the woods, not too far from the cave, trying to seek out to find the misplaced vampire. His boys followed behind him, walking as quietly as they could despite the sound of their chains. Their bikes were parked not too far away, though it didn’t really matter at this point.

Coming around a few curves and over a few branches and holes, the boys saw a girl crouched behind a tree. Making their way up, they started to surround you.

You had only been in Santa Carla for a little over a week after running away from home, and you knew that there was another pack of vampires not too far from you. Though, you never thought you would meet them (certainly not like this). It was a risky game to be playing in the ‘Murder Capital of the World’.

“Jeez, and I thought I was loud walking,” You remarked, maybe trying to break the ice a bit.

You shivered at the four men that stood in front of you, their glances were threatening. You tried to work up the courage to look them in the face, but couldn’t find the energy. You were too busy worried about the pain in your side. While you were picking off just enough careful victims, you still weren’t careful enough. On your last attempted feeding, you got injured and it wasn’t healing fast enough.

“What are you doing here?” David asked, making imprints with his large boots in the dirt.

“What does it look like? I’m relaxing in a nice and peaceful forest. Is that a crime?”

David huffed, and Marko stepped in. “I think you may be lost, you see. This is our territory.”

“Yeah!” Paul supplied, almost mockingly. “So we’re gonna have to ask you to kindly skedaddle out of here.”

Dwayne groaned, “Please.”

Moving your blood-filled hand from your side, you lost your balance and stumbled to the ground a bit. Trying to catch yourself, you slide in the soil below you.

“Of course, we find an injured vampire. Just our luck!” Paul complained.

Marko rubbed his temple, “What are we going to do?”

Dwayne, Paul, and Marko all looked up to their leader and David looked hesitantly at her.

“Dwayne and Marko, take her back to the cave. Paul, try and clean up as much of this blood out here as you can.”

“David, are you sure?” Marko questioned.

David sent him a threatening look, “Do what I ask you to do, got it?”

“What about Max?” Dwayne inquired.

“Don’t worry about him. I’ll deal with him. Just make sure she’s alright.” Though, David didn’t seem so sure himself.

#the lost boys #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys x fem!reader #david the lost boys #paul the lost boys #1980s #dwayne the lost boys #marko the lost boys #vampires #horror #the lost boys imagines

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rintarous · 3 years

Text

birthday week — kageyama tobio

SUMMARY: before kageyama finally joins the world of adolescence, you thought it would be nice if you showed him what it feels like to break some rules and that it’s okay to be reckless every once in a while.

PAIRING: kageyama x reader; best friends to lovers!au

A/N: happy birthday to my number one forever and always, kageyama! let’s pretend kageyama is turning 18 and i hope you all enjoy. feedback would highly be appreciated and this is inspired by jessica vu’s video, ‘my last week as a teen’

WORD COUNT: 4.4K

EXTRAS: huge huge HUGE thanks to @kkulbloom and @tobiiok for taking the time to proofread and help me with this!!! i dedicate this entire thing to you guys HAHA + gracie, i kept some of the shit you wrote hehe ++ I’M LIKE 2 DAYS LATE I’M SORRY LMFAO

“any plans on your birthday this year?” you asked kageyama as he walks you to class. “just the usual. eating out with you and my family” he shrugs, sipping on the rest of his milkbox.

“wait, you’re not doing anything for your birthday this year?” you stopped your tracks and whipped your head to face a very confused kageyama. “what’s so special about my birthday this year?” he raises a brow at you.

“it's your eighteenth birthday; you dummy” you poke his chest. “it’s the year you finally turn into a wholeass adult and you’re not gonna do anything?!” you continued, standing in front of him with your hands on your hip.

before he could say anything, the bell rings indicating that lunch break was over. kageyama hurriedly walks you to your classroom. “i’ll see you later,” he waves off, walking away from your classroom to head to his own.

you watched his silhouette slowly disappear by the door frame before an idea popped into your head. kageyama never strayed far from his routine and was always a stickler for rules even as a child, and this part of him hasn’t changed since. you were always more mischievous and outgoing; you were dubbed the troublemaker while kageyama was treated as the model child.

you wanted to take this opportunity and show him that breaking the rules could be fun.

you sat inside their infamous volleyball club gym, waiting for him to finish up their daily practices.

you were on your phone, listing the possible ideas that you and kageyama could do that were reckless but also deemed as “kageyama friendly” as you liked to call it- basically stuff that are just within his comfort zone, but at the same time not.

you thought long and hard about the things kageyama likes and dislikes. only to end up with five possible things you two could do on such a short notice which are sneaking out late at night, sleeping on the top of his roof, and lastly driving around sendai and going shopping.

“what are you doing?” kageyama sneaks up behind you, peeking over your shoulder to see what you were so serious about. “huh?! nothing!” you yelped, flailing your arms around and almost dropping your phone in front of him.

kageyama cocks his head to the side. “... okay” he holds his hands out in defense before shrugging. “i’m done for the day. c’mon let’s go home”

—

“oh yeah, didn’t you say you wanted to talk about something?” kageyama brings up to the conversation you were having with him. you looked at him for a moment before your lips formed an ‘o’ shape.

how could you forget your own plan?

linking your elbows with his, a terribly old habit of yours that formed throughout the years of friendship with him you’ve gotten from the day you met him. you bat your eyelashes in front of your best friend. “say, how about i show you a good time” you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively..

kageyama makes a face and pushes you off of him, making you laugh. “i’m kidding” you hiccuped, latching onto him again. “what i’m saying is, do you kageyama tobio,” you run up in front of him and got down on one knee,

“allow me, y/n, to show you how to have fun for once in your life?” you hold your hand out dramatically, covering your eyes with the other as you waited for his answer. kageyama simply slaps your hand away and tells you to get up from the ground.

you pout as you walk beside him again. “c’mon dude, you’re always in your own bubble” you tried to explain, “let me be the first one to pop it, your highness” you joked, tugging his arm.

kageyama sighs before looking down at you. “what will we even be doing?” he questions, looking at your pouting face. “i’m not helping you hide a body or anything illegal like that,” he adds, pointing a finger at you.

you looked at him weirdly before shaking the thought away. “just simple things like sneaking out late at night” you shrugged, peering over to watch his reaction. “i know you don’t have the balls to do it”

kageyama scoffs, shocked that you actually said that. “you know what..” he starts, the desire to prove you wrong getting the best of him. “i’ll prove to you that my life isn’t just in a bubble” he quotes. you can’t help but smirk at his answer. maybe provoking him was the right choice after all.

“alright tobio, you got yourself a deal.”

3 days before his birthday...

it is thursday, december 18th, there were three days left before kageyama’s birthday and not to mention, this week is also the last week of school before winter break starts. for your first plan of action on giving kageyama the best week of his life was to pop his late night escapade cherry.

“i’m outside” you texted kageyama at 11 o’clock sharp. you shove your phone back into your pocket and looked up at kageyama’s window. you see the window open slowly and kageyama’s leg thrown over. you smirked proudly at your best friend who found the courage to do this and ruin his meticulous sleeping schedule just because you said he couldn’t do it but we all know he did this out of pure pettiness.

kageyama silently closes his window, in hopes no one in his family heard but then again, they were already out like a light. he carefully climbs down off his balcony and lands on the grass patch in front of his house. he then jumps over his own gate and jogs over to you.

“wow THE kageyama sneaking out in the flesh” you applaud, teasing him. kageyama scowls and looks away to hide the embarrassed blush on his cheeks. “now where are we going this late at night?” he grumbles, putting his hood on.

“the convenience store of course!” you grinned, leading the way to your favorite store that was still open. kageyama feels a vein pop on his forehead upon realizing that he did all of this just to head over to the convenience store you two nearly visit everyday after school.

—

“want some?” you hold out a plastic spoon, offering him some ice cream. kageyama shakes his head no as he stares at you. he was kinda mad at you for ruining his sleep schedule just to get some ice cream. “why are you staring at me like that?” you asked, savouring the sweet delicacy that was on your mouth as you speak.

“you made me sneak out just to watch you eat ice cream” kageyama deadpans, dropping his head on the table. “i asked you what you wanted but you didn’t say anything!” you furrowed your brows. “that’s because i want sleep!” he argues, flicking your forehead.

“you have to stop flicking me all the time” you point your spoon at him menacingly, trying to sound as threatening as possible but it comes out as a choked cry as you tried not to laugh. kageyama bites his lip in attempt to stop himself from smiling. he was supposed to be mad at you but why wasn’t it working?

“whatever you dumbass” was all he could say before he snatches your spoon from your hand and takes a bite out of your ice cream.

—

“what time is it?” you ask kageyama who was dozing off to sleep in the middle of the park. kageyama grunts, blinking the sleepiness away. “you’re weak” you comment, grabbing your phone to check the time yourself. it wasn’t even half past twelve and yet he’s already sleepy.

“we have school today you know” he says, leaning his head on top of yours. “so?” you shrugged, scrolling through your phone. you wanted to skip anyways since it was the last day before winter break. “i still have practice” kageyama notes.

you huffed knowing he was right. even if you wanted him to fuck around, you know how important attending practice is for kageyama as he is the vice captain of the team. ‘he wins this round’ you think to yourself.

“keep an eye open when you sleep later. we’re not done yet with this thing we have going on” you say loud enough for him to hear. kageyama grunts again and yawns, “yeah whatever you say y/n” he stands up and stretches his limbs,

“let’s go home”

2 days before his birthday…

you figured you wouldn’t see kageyama this morning and you were right. shrugging, you headed downstairs tot the vending machine to get yourself some canned coffee to wake yourself up.

today’s agenda is to have a sleepover at his place and go on top of his roof to go stargazing but if he wasn’t having any of that, you already have some movies in mind to watch with him inside.

taking a sharp left, you were surprised to see kageyama at the vending machine. you crept up behind him and jumped on his back. “good morning!” you exclaimed. kageyama spits out the milk he was drinking as he balances himself (and you for that matter) from face planting on the cold hard floor.

you giggled as you ran around him to take a good look at his tired face. his eye bags were already prominent on his flawless face even if he just slept late once. you also took the leisure to notice how his hair seems to be unkempt today and how his uniform was wrinkled. It was as if he just rolled out of bed and went straight to school.

“oh shit you were late for school too?” you gasped, covering your mouth to prevent yourself from laughing. kageyama narrows his eyes, clicking his tongue in annoyance. “this is your fault”

“well i gave you a choice and you agreed to it” you countered, crossing your arms as you look up at him with a devious smile. “anyway, i’m staying over at your place today” you mentioned, moving past him towards the vending machine, clicking the button for canned coffee.

kageyama continues sipping on his drink as he watches you grab your canned coffee from the machine. you walked up to him and offered him some. “drink some of this so you’ll feel less tired” you say, handing the drink to him.

kageyama reluctantly takes a sip. he’s not particularly fond of coffee but desperate times call for desperate measures. he still had after school practice after all.

he handed you back your drink when he noticed your cheeks have gone pink. why were you blushing?

“we just shared an indirect kiss!” you gushed, your hands on your chest as you dance around him. kageyama felt blood rush to his cheeks. “no we didn’t” he immediately denies, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

no way in hell was he gonna let himself slip like that in front of you.

“i’m just kidding, tobio” you wipe a tear that was escaping your eye from laughing so much. it was always fun to tease kageyama especially when he reacts like this. it was so easy to make him feel flustered and sometimes he wouldn’t even fight back.

“i’m coming around yours later, okay? see you” you wave off, leaving a blushing kageyama standing still near the vending machine. what is this effect you had on him?

—

you were finally at kageyama’s house just like you mentioned earlier today. you were on his bed, waiting for him to arrive from afternoon practice.

you’ve already set up the shit you two would need for tonight such as extra blankets and throw pillows that you brought from your own home and some movies you had downloaded in case kageyama gets bored from stargazing.

it was all ready just for him.

kageyama comes home an hour later after you. when he walks in his room to sees you sprawled out on his bed taking a nap. he smiles softly to himself seeing your state. that’s what you get for sneaking out with me late at night, he thinks to himself, placing his gym bag on the floor quietly, careful not to wake you.

“tobio?” you mumbled, waking up from your nap. you sit up and wiped your mouth in case you drooled. “good evening” kageyama replies, whacking you with his sweaty shirt. “kageyama that’s gross!” you grimaced, shielding yourself with his pillow. kageyama laughs, grabbing his shirt from the end of the bed before ruffling your hair.

“i’m gonna take a shower. wait for me”

it was time for dinner by the time he finished showering. after you helped his mom with the dishes, you and kageyama finally went back upstairs to his room.

“any plans tonight?” kageyama asked, closing his door. you plop down on his bed, snuggling closer to his blankets before nodding your head. “we’re sleeping on your roof tonight.”

kageyama looks at you skeptically. “i’m not hauling your ass up there” he says, crossing his arms. he looks around for something and grabs the pillows and blankets you’ve brought from home. “let’s just build a fort here like we used to,” he tries to convince you but to no avail, you didn’t say shit.

—

after having a heavy argument and him having to drag your ass up onto his roof, you two were finally settled in your little makeshift fort you built for yourselves. which basically just consisted of a messy pile of blankets and throw pillows on top of each other but nevertheless, it looked and was cozy as fuck.

“what now?” kageyama breathes out, a bit exhausted after everything. you lie down next to him and pointed towards the night sky. “we watch the stars!” you exclaimed, pulling a pillow close to your chest.

you began babbling on about the stars you were looking at and if kageyama was being honest , he didn’t know what the fuck you were talking about. he didn’t have the heart to tell you because of the way your eyes lit up and how genuinely excited you looked just by stargazing with him.

he could stare at you like this forever if he could but he won’t. for now at least.

you turned your head slightly to the right to see kageyama fondly staring right back at you. your eyes’ both widened as you two quickly averted your gazes from each other, cheeks heating up in the process.

“so... where were we” you coughed, breaking the awkward tension. “i don’t know, wasn’t listening” kageyama admits. “of course you were” you say sarcastically, “that’s why i prepared some movies for us to watch.”

the next morning arrives after what just seemed like watching a handful of movies. you don’t even know how you ended up sleeping on top of his chest but you weren’t complaining at all.

you tried recalling the events that happened last night but all you can remember is that it started out as platonic cuddling as he was lying down with his hands behind his head. it got chilly in the middle of the movie marathon, so you cuddled up next to him for some warmth. he even offered his arm for you to lay on.

little by little his hands were creeping up your arm until he pulled you right on top of him like it was nothing. your legs were entangled with one another and if anyone saw you, it would look like a couple laying on the roof watching some cheesy romcoms.

“kags?” you murmured, looking up to see him fast asleep. he stirred in his sleep and unconsciously pulled you closer to him, like he’s afraid of letting you go. kageyama grunted, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “just a little longer...” he croaked in his morning voice.

it wouldn’t hurt to stay in his arms a bit longer so that’s exactly what you did.

1 day before his birthday…

kageyama didn’t bring up the incident that happened between the two of you earlier today and you were glad he didn’t. you don’t want to remember the fact that you deliberately stayed in his arms until he woke up. not to mention the growing sexual tension between the two of you, it was better if it was swept under the rug.

it’s the day before his birthday and the third and final thing on your kageyama list was to drive around sendai and spend a shit ton of money with no remorse.

“wanna drive around with me today?” you asked kageyama as you two ate in silence. kageyama scoops himself some cereal before answering your question. “do i even have a choice?” he rolls his eyes. it was true though, it’s not like he had a choice to begin with anyway.

“... good answer”

—

“think of this as my advanced birthday gift to you” you assured, as you two walked around the streets of sendai. “just tell me what you want and i’ll buy it for you” you added, showing off your credit card.

“anything i want?” kageyama repeated, racking his brain for anything he needed. you nod your head as you looked around for some good shops to start with. “need clothes? or anything like that?” you pondered, trying to help him decide.

in the end, he asked for some new knee pads and a new volleyball along with it.

after doing some shopping, you two were currently resting on a bench in a park nearby, while eating some crepes he bought. “is this all?” you look up at him, kind of thrown off by how short his wish list was. kageyama holds up a finger to signify that he was still chewing his food. “there’s really nothing i want at the moment,” he answers, looking at your face.

his eyes fell to the corner of your mouth where there was a bit of chocolate syrup smeared. kageyama uses the pad of his thumb to wipe it away, completely catching you off guard. you felt your face instantly heat up at his gesture before you jerked your face away from him, toying with your car keys.

“let’s go for a drive.”

—

after mindlessly driving around sendai, past his old middle school, to shiratorizawa, you two somehow ended up in the middle of nowhere with a cliff side that you can see a clear view over sendai. you got out of your car and sat on the hood with kageyama beside you.

“it’s so pretty,” you commented, staring at the bright lights emitting from the buildings down below. “it is,” kageyama agreed. “where did you even hear about this place?” he asked, sipping on a drink he got at some gas station.

“tsukishima told me about it,” you shared, fumbling with your hands. kageyama scoffed, shaking the drink in his hands. “of course he did.” he looked down at his ground before glancing at you. “did he bring you up here before?”

you shake your head no, “we broke up before he had the chance to bring me here.” kageyama hummed at your answer before lightly punching your shoulder. “what’s with the sour mood all of a sudden” he taunted.

you glared at the boy beside you, “that’s because you brought up this shit again,” you hissed, crossing your arms and shifting your body away from him. kageyama laughed at your reaction, using the hem of your sweater to pull you into his embrace. “i’m just joking.”

“doesn’t sound like you are,” you murmured against his chest. you pulled away from him and stared up at him again. “but i am,” he assured, smoothing down your hair. “technically, i brought you up here first”

you rolled your eyes at his attempt to be cheesy and pushed him away. “whatever loser” you stuck your tongue out at him. you grabbed your phone from your pockets to check the time. “it’s getting late. we should go home” you say, unlocking your car.

before you could actually go home, kageyama suddenly asked if it would be alright if he could be the one to drive the two of you home. so now you were in the passenger seat, belting out to your playlist that kageyama saved on his phone as he drove. you took your phone out and started recording everything. just for keeps you tell yourself as you filmed kageyama singing along to the songs that were playing on your stereo.

kageyama was genuinely having the time of his life with you right now, that’s for sure. he was laughing and singing along with you without a care. it was a rare sight to see him so carefree, no restraints from himself and that made you really happy.

you’ve known kageyama way back since middle school. being in the same friendship group with him and all. in a nutshell, your relationship with kageyama is what kunimi is to kindaichi. you are his anchor, you keep him grounded and above all,

you will always be there for him even if the rest of the world would be against him.

maybe that’s why you treasure kageyama so much. you don’t want him to ever feel like he’s all on his own like he was once in his own team again.

you snapped out of your little trance when you noticed that this wasn’t the route from earlier. kageyama saw the look of confusion on your face when he took a quick glance at you. “we’re taking the long way home” he tells you as the car comes to a stop at a red light. “you’re telling me this now?” you huffed, crossing your arms

kageyama suddenly places his hand on your thigh, making your eyes pop out of their sockets. you freeze under his sudden touch, obviously not used to this type of shit from him.

“just relax,” kageyama mutters, tapping random beats on your thigh. “o-okay...” you choked out, feeling your face heat up again. you resisted the urge to put your hand on top of his. snap out of it, you think to yourself. you aren’t supposed to think like this. he’s your best friend! and definitely not your lover!

your head was spinning, were you overanalyzing this? you squeezed your eyes shut as your brain was racking every single moment that led to this until he gives your thigh a firm squeeze making your breath hitch.

fuck it, you think to yourself. you unbuckled your seatbelt, grabbed his face and pulled him in for a kiss.

for once in your life, you were glad he chose the long way home.

the day of his birthday…

it was finally the day, his 18th birthday. you were honestly pretty proud of yourself on how your week long plan was going smoothly and was finally coming to a close. kageyama now has stories to tell his grandkids about his teenage years. how he sneaked out for once in his life, slept on his roof, drove around his hometown and kissed the girl of his dreams.

speaking of which, there’s no denying that there’s something going on between the two of you now. not that you planned all of this just to confess to your best friend or anything like that. it was anything but that.

“what are we..” you mumbled quietly after you two pulled away. kageyama intertwines your hands with his. “whatever you want it to be”

it went silent after that. maybe he was right for making you take the lead. the last thing he wants is for you to feel uncomfortable for taking things too fast.

kageyama ended up staying over at your place last night. by the time you two arrived at home it was already quarter to 12. he couldn’t make it home anymore because the gates were already locked.

which is why he’s in your room cuddled up against you. “so what are we doing later?” kageyama yawned, pulling you closer to his chest. you threw your leg over his torso before answering. “it’s a secret” you tell him, suddenly feeling drowsy over the warmth he so conveniently provided.

kageyama turned around to look at your clock on the bedside table. “wanna sleep a bit? it’s getting late” he proposes, running his hand along your arm. you shook your head, “we won’t be needing sleep for now” you hummed, tracing random shapes with your finger on his chest. “what?” he asked, yawning again.

“anyways” you changed the subject, “i’ve been meaning to ask you,” you paused momentarily before looking up at him.”what are we?” you look up at him. “what about us?” kageyama questions, looking down at you with curiosity written all over his face.

you scrunch your nose, “we’re best friends, kags” you start, breaking eye contact with him to look up at your ceiling. “and best friends don’t kiss each other” you breathe out, the heavy feeling slowly being lifted off of your shoulders.

“maybe some do” kageyama muses, completely disregarding whatever you were hinting at him. you let out a scoff, “like who?” you scowled, glaring at him. “like us” he shrugs, rolling his eyes at your overreaction.

“how bold!” you faked gasped, a hand on your chest. kageyama was still on top of you, his eyes never leaving yours. “i think it’s pretty obvious what our status is now” he comments. “a couple..” you murmured. kageyama felt his heart swell at your statement. “a couple of besties!” you laughed out loud.

“fuck you” kageyama growls, rolling off of you. he shifts his body to the side where he isn’t facing you and started sulking. “kags” you laughed, shaking his arm. “oy kageyama” you whined, trying to catch his attention

kageyama shoos you away and continues to sulk. you take notice of the clock which read 11:58 PM. you had exactly two minutes to do something before the clock hits midnight.

clicking your tongue in annoyance, you rolled on top of kageyama, “what are you doing-” you hear him say. you support yourself with your arms in between his head, trapping him in the middle. you leaned down, your nose touching as he felt your breath fan his face. “happy birthday, tobio” you greet, as the clock hits 12, closing the distance between the two of you.

this was probably his best birthday gift yet.

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #kageyama imagines #kageyama x reader #kageyama scenarios

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dadsbongos · 3 years

Text

Insert Coin - Chapter 3.b / Series Masterlist

“Unfortunate name for a concert hall, no?”

(Y/n) jumped at the sudden voice only to calm down upon realizing it belonged to Nagito, “Oh, yes, it is,” she flushed and shook her head, “An incredibly unfortunate name for anything, let alone a concert hall.”

With a name like Titty Typhoon, it didn’t matter how hard you tried - you wouldn’t forget where you were going. Or, if you were one of many who didn’t show up, where you were supposed to be going. How anybody could look at someone as charismatic and sweet and Ibuki and not follow her every whim was far beyond (Y/n).

Though, to be fair-

“It’s…” Nagito smiled softly as more noise flew from the stage and speakers into their ears, “atrocious… I can see why her band broke up for ‘creative differences’.”

Nodding, (Y/n) pursed her lips, “She’s doing her best and right now, that’s all we can ask,” she felt her heart warm up at the clear joy wiped over the musician’s face, “Besides, her happiness is pretty infectious, no?”

Before Nagito could respond, the door pulled open, Fuyuhiko walking in - unheard due to the loud music, but probably not as unseen as he wanted to be.

(Y/n)’s lips pulled into a wide grin, waving over the Ultimate Yakuza, “How’re you feeling?”

“Better,” he replied bluntly, hands jammed in his dress pants’ pockets.

“Good,” the peacekeeper nodded, “That’s all that matters. But I am glad you came, tonight wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“Right,” Fuyuhiko tensed up, clearly flustered and overwhelmed at the attention he was getting as more and more people invited him over to their spots scattered around the concert hall.

Shortly after Fuyuhiko was Hiyoko, lips drawn in a frown as she stormed into the room, shouting about how she wasn’t getting soft whatsoever. Her showing up was simply a courtesy and not out of desire, not at all. Her eyes locked with (Y/n)’s just long enough to exchange a shy wave for a much friendlier one before returning to a pout.

“I’m glad they’re getting out,” (Y/n) noted to Nagito, “Grieving is understandable but I’d hate to see them lock themselves away in the process.”

“I know what you mean, such symbols of hope falling into such deep despair is unacceptable,” he muttered shamefully in response.

“Sure,” the peacekeeper sighed quietly, “I mostly meant how unhealthy it is to lock yourself away, especially after losing someone close to you. There’s always people there for you, you know?”

Nagito froze up, “People are supposed to be there for you?”

“Oh, God, I forgot, I’m so sorry,” (Y/n) turned to face the Ultimate Luck completely. He’d told her of horror stories from his childhood and his cursed luck in complete faith she wouldn’t tell anyone else. He claimed it was because he didn’t want to bother the others, so-called trash like him shouldn’t bother Ultimates. In truth, he didn’t need to give a reason.

He could’ve just asked with no explanation and (Y/n) would’ve kept his secrets locked away all the same.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t expect you to remember something so infinitesimal,” it was in the minor details - the creases in his forehead, the furrow in his brows.

“It isn’t infinitesimal, Nagito, but hey,” she tilted her head, giving the sickly boy a smile, “you have me now. Can you deal with me?”

“I hardly need to ‘deal’ with you, it’s more like you dealing with me.”

“Then we’ll deal with each other,” she could try as much as she wanted, but there was no chance (Y/n) would be getting Nagito to admit he wasn’t a burden in one night. But she could try for the future - if he was willing to work with her for that long.

"Everyone, I'm so sorry, I need- cut the music!" Hajime shouted to the crowd after busting in through the doors, Ibuki following his order, albeit annoyed, "Something is going on down at the beach, I need everyone to follow me immediately!"

Hajime wasn’t one to lie, leading the others during investigations and acting as a guide during trials. He was trustworthy, and so, nobody hesitated in following after him as he ran out of the concert hall.

Leading everyone to the beach, everyone was immediately met with the sight of Akane and Monokuma locked in an altercation on the coast.

Akane was strong. Akane wouldn’t back down. Akane would attack at any cost and it would be her downfall.

Monokuma held his hands over his snout as he laughed before pulling one arm up, shifting into a rocket-launcher, “Didn’t I say I won’t allow any rule violations against me? This… is what happens when you break the rules!”

“Rules…?” Hajime muttered to himself.

“No extreme violence against the ‘headmaster’,” (Y/n) murmured, eyes wide in fear as the island blasted white.

Clenching her eyes shut, (Y/n) swore she felt the island itself shake as blaring white engulfed her senses. And when she opened them, she wished she’d never had - anything to avoid the horrifying glimpse of Nekomaru on his last breath.

The big, strong Ultimate Team Manager was whittled to his weakest at Akane’s feet.

Nekomaru Nidai who had once seemed so invincible was being carried away in Monokuma’s ambulance.

(Y/n) watched as the vehicle whined its way into the distance, fingers numbed and brain stuffed with white noise as the others yelled around her. Their voices all mingled as one in the chaos until a hand landed on her shoulder, Hajime looking at her with worry, “Hey, are you okay? I know that was… a lot to take in but,” he glanced at the arguing crowd, “we need your talent right now.”

“Right…”

Right.

It’s her job to ensure things go as smoothly as possible.

And yet she was consistently failing.

“When the stupid ones try to act on their own, it makes trouble for everyone else,” Hiyoko fumed at Akane, who, despite her usual aura of calmed and carefree, was staring dead at the sand.

“Hiyoko,” (Y/n) cut in, shaking her head at the short blond, “please… it wasn’t Akane’s fault. She attacked Monokuma, yes. But Nekomaru jumped in - he wanted to protect her, he knew what he was getting into. All we can do now is wait for him to come back to us.”

“How do you know he fuckin’ will come back?!” Fuyuhiko exclaimed.

“Monokuma’s a stickler, right?” (Y/n) argued, “He wants us to kill each other unless someone breaks the rules or is found as the blackened, but those are the only exceptions,” she gestured to Fuyuhiko, “You should know that first-hand. You were in the middle of an execution and you came back. He won’t let someone die who wasn’t explicitly meant to,” she nodded to her own logic, convincing herself as she went, “Nekomaru’s coming back to us.”

“If he doesn’t?” Hiyoko put her hands on her hips.

“Then we’ll move on together,” the Ultimate Peacekeeper continued, “It’s what we do. We’re all in this screwed up game together, aren’t we? We pick ourselves up and move on as a unit,” (Y/n) looked back at the trail in the sand where Monokuma’s ambulance drove off, “Now, everyone head to bed. It’s late.”

As the class dismantled themselves and began heading towards their cottages, (Y/n) felt a throb at her temple, hand coming up to press at the area as if that alone would suppress the pain.

She knew better than that. She could only hope and wait for the pain to leave on its own. She could only hope and wait. Totally powerless. Totally helpless.

As everyone had left (Y/n) alone on the dark beach, wind blew past her. It was cold but it stung on her cheeks, and she wasn’t clueless as to why.

Because finally. Finally.

Jabberwock Island exhausted her, the Ultimate Peacekeeper. Jabberwock Island won a battle never waged.

It won.

(Y/n) (L/n) was crying on the sands of Jabberwock Island.

#danganronpa x reader #danganronpa reader insert #insert coin #nagito x reader #komaeda x reader #sdr2 reader insert #sdr2 x reader

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waitineedaname · 3 years

Note

"this wasn't supposed to end in murder, guys, we talked about this" with the gordon, tommy + benrey (but BENREY'S saying the line, please?)

Gordon was more surprised than he should have been to discover Benrey was a stickler for rules.

Perhaps it should’ve been expected; they’d spent the entirety of the trek through Black Mesa harassing him endlessly about rules that Gordon was fairly certain were not meant to be enforced in a life or death situation. Gordon had thought maybe it was just Benrey taking their work a little too far or enforcing the rules only to inconvenience him. While some of that may have been true -- Benrey really seemed to get a thrill out of bothering him -- it turned out to be more so because when Benrey was given rules, they liked to follow them, even when most would ignore it.

Most of the time, this only affected Benrey, and Gordon didn’t mind it. If the doofus wanted to avoid pirating movies like it was the worst crime imaginable, Gordon wasn’t going to argue with them. But sometimes, they enforced rules in a way that ruined Gordon’s fun.

Case in point: attempting to stop Gordon and Tommy from getting their frustrations out in Chuck E. Cheese.

“This wasn't supposed to end in murder, guys, we talked about this,” Benrey complained from the main area of the restaurant (because it was a restaurant, dammit, no matter what Tommy’s intimidating dad said). Tommy ignored them and continued lobbing skee balls at the animatronics at an alarming velocity. Gordon cheered him on from where he stood atop the air hockey table.

It had been Tommy who suggested an outing to Chuck E. Cheese, no surprise. Gordon was bored and had nothing better to do, so he said fuck it, sure, he’ll partake in the rat’s pizza for an afternoon. Before they entered the restaurant, he had grabbed Tommy and Benrey by the shoulders and told them (but mostly Benrey) that they weren’t going to cause trouble, please behave, he wanted to be able to take Joshua to this Chuck E. Cheese at some point and he didn’t want to get banned. Tommy hadn’t said anything, had only smiled in a way that probably would’ve conveyed “who, me?” had Gordon been paying attention and hadn’t been distracted by Benrey going “booo, Gordon banning us from fun, lame.” When they went inside to buy tokens, however, Gordon saw Benrey hanging back and reading the rules of play that had been posted near the arcade entrance. Well, if they weren’t going to listen to Gordon, at least they were going to listen to the sign.

The restaurant was virtually empty, just them and the bored employees who seemed unfazed to see three grown adults in an arcade designed for five year olds. Gordon briefly wondered if he should’ve brought Joshua just for appearance’s sake, but the kid was with his ex for the week, and besides, the employees didn’t seem to care. They had about an hour of fun fucking around with the arcade games when Gordon finally pulled himself away from the fighting game he had been playing with Benrey. The two of them had been getting way too competitive, and he had learned by now that there was a certain point where he needed to take a step back or else it would end with one of them in a headlock and the other one yelling about cheating. At least, that’s how it always ended when they played Street Fighter at home, and he definitely didn’t want to risk being the one with his face in the sticky Chuck E. Cheese carpeting. So he waved Benrey off with a promise of a rematch later and wandered over to where Tommy was standing in front of the skee ball machine, a small frown on his face.

“Hey, you good, man?” Gordon asked, putting his hand on Tommy’s arm. Tommy didn’t look away from the skee ball machine, but his mouth twisted into a tighter frown, a look of annoyance on his face that he usually reserved for truly frustrating Resonance Cascade related bullshit. Or for when Gordon or Benrey put the orange juice cartons back in the fridge with only a tablespoon of juice left in them.

“This- I think this game is rigged,” Tommy said, tossing a ball in his hand absently.

“What?” Gordon laughed a little. “Are you sure you’re not just losing?”

“No, I- I have perfect aim. This game should be a cakewalk.” Sometimes it was a little hard to tell when Tommy was joking, but Gordon was fairly certain he was dead serious about this.

“I mean, I’m pretty sure all the games are kinda rigged. They make the buttons intentionally stiff or something to scam people out of money.” Gordon rubbed the back of his head and shrugged. Tommy turned to face him, looking betrayed.

“But… that’s fraudulent! Isn’t- Aren’t there regulations against that?”

“Uh, I mean, maybe, but I don’t think they’re really enforced. Pretty much any arcade is gonna be like that.”

“They shouldn’t be allowed to do that.”

“Nope.”

“But they do it anyway?”

“Yep.”

Tommy was silent for a minute, appearing deep in thought. He then turned on his heel, and before Gordon could react, he was throwing the skee ball at the nearest animatronic with the skill of a professional baseball pitcher. Gordon’s jaw dropped, and Tommy turned back to him with a broad smile on his face. “See, Mr. Freeman? Perfect aim!”

“Yeah, I- I see that!” Gordon laughed, startled. “Why’d you do that, bud?”

“If they’re not going to follow the rules, I’m not either!” Tommy seemed to sense Gordon’s apprehension and tossed him a skee ball. “Don’t worry, my dad knows really good lawyers.”

Gordon rolled the skee ball between his hands and glanced back at the main counter. One of the cashiers looked stunned at the display of violence, but the other one gave them a bored hand wave as if to say they weren’t paid nearly enough to stop them. “You know what? Fuck it. If we get banned, we get banned.”

Tommy flapped his hands excitedly and cheered Gordon on as he climbed on top of the air hockey table. “Do something- Do something crazy!”

Gordon’s aim wasn’t nearly as good as Tommy’s, but turns out that throwing anything with a destructive intent was a good way to release energy. Tommy continued chucking skee balls at the animatronics while Gordon started kicking the pucks off the air hockey table. They were making enough noise to distract Benrey into abandoning their fighting game to investigate what the hell they were doing.

“Broooo, what are you doing?” Benrey complained, watching the two of them wreck havoc. “That’s- This is against the rules. Gonna get banned, man, whadda hell.”

“Come on, Benrey, I know you wanna break shit.” Gordon sat down on the air hockey table, which creaked concerningly underneath him, and threw a striker at them.

“Wh- No, dude!” Benrey let the striker hit them on the chest and didn’t seem to notice. “You’re killing him! You’re killing Chunky Cheese, oh my god.”

Tommy laughed, breathless. “Aren’t- Aren’t you tired of being nice? Don’t you want to go apeshit?”

Benrey sang out a panicked string of brown to white Sweet Voice. “I’m gonna hafta call security on you. Gonna send you to Chunky Cheese jail.”

“Chuck E. Cheese doesn’t have on-location security!” Tommy countered, climbing over the barrier that separated the main area from the animatronic band to better attack them.

“I’m on this location, bro.” Benrey said, even though they were clearly in sweatpants and hoodie they’d stolen from Tommy, not anything resembling their security uniform.

“You don’t work for Chuck E. Cheese.” Gordon argued, still perched on the air hockey table and repeatedly kicking the nearest arcade machine.

“Huh? I’m gonna have to ask you to stop, sir, or else I’m gonna have to take you in under Cabinet Man violations.” Benrey started to approach Gordon in an attempt to stop him, knowing they had no chance of stopping Tommy from climbing on top of the animatronics.

“You’ll never take me alive!” Gordon cried out, overcome with the giddiness of childish destruction. He clambered to his feet atop the table and almost immediately heard the distinct sound of wood breaking. He only had an instant to make panicked eye contact with Benrey before he was plummeting to the ground.

Tommy ended up driving him to urgent care, Benrey berating the two of them the whole time. They did get banned from every Chuck E. Cheese location in a thirty mile radius, but that’s fine. Josh liked Dave & Buster’s better anyway.

#hlvrai #frenreylatta if you squint #benrey #tommy coolatta #gordon feetman #my writing #okay to reblog #the chuck e cheese opinions in this fic do not reflect my own #it's not a restaurant I'm sorry king <3 #also the sweet voice translation: chocolate to rice #aren't you tired of going apeshit? don't you just want to be nice?#shoutout to clover for helping me figure out the premise of this fic dklsjfskldjf #anonymous #asks

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hopelesshawks · 3 years

Text

Physical Fatality Part 13- Icarus

18+ Hawks x fem, pro hero!reader

Summary: You’re a rising star in All Might’s agency. Hawks is the darling of Endeavor’s. By virtue of your job descriptions, the two of you are supposed to hate each other, or at the very least be cautiously neutral. For a long time that’s exactly what the two of you did. You stayed out of each other’s way and formed little opinion of the other. One fateful night at an HPSC gala changes all that. Based on the album Hopeless Fountain Kingdom by Halsey.

If you don’t want to see Physical Fatality content blacklist #hopelesspf

This story will have multiple NSFW parts so it is 18+ ONLY minors dni

Warning for very slight suicidal themes this fic has a happy ending I swear

Masterlist

Agony.

Losing you is agony.

Endeavor is lecturing him for pulling the stunt with Bakugo earlier that day but he can’t hear or really process any of it when all he can think about is the fact you’ve blocked his number and seem to want nothing to do with him. He vaguely registers words of “I told you so” and “I warned you” and even a word or two about a demotion but none of it matters. Hawks doesn’t know how to do anything but be a hero. It’s been the driving force behind a lot of the choices he’s made in your relationship and he knows it’s the same for you, but that doesn’t make any of this easier.

“You’re going to have to work really hard to earn my trust back Hawks and the trust of your coworkers,” Endeavor warns. “Understood,” Hawks replies, his voice almost detached. It seems to disconcert Endeavor, the other man being far more accustomed to the snarky Hawks persona than the serious man in front of him now. “Hawks, uhm, do you,” Endeavor stutters suddenly unsure. He coughs to cover his discomfort and clears his throat before resuming. “Do you need to talk about what happened between you and Artemis?” he finally manages to ask. He looks so deeply uncomfortable potentially talking about the subject and his discomfort only grows when Hawks continues to give him nothing back. “That won’t be necessary,” Hawks replies before turning and walking out of the office. If Hawks doesn’t know how to live without hero work, Keigo doesn’t know how to live without you. So his only option is to abandon Keigo until the pain stops.

He can’t have slept more than a handful of hours that night but he still wakes up early the next morning to run an extra patrol before his normally scheduled one. He files paperwork, even revisits old cases, all in a bid to keep you off his mind. Of course it’s not enough to stop his coworkers from whispering. Typically he ignores the gossip of the lower ranking heroes but it’s hard when he knows they’re speculating about you and him. It certainly doesn’t help that your break up was so public and now it feels like nearly all of Japan has watched the video of it happening. Hawks used to be the darling of Endeavor’s agency, beloved by all of his coworkers. Now he’s practically a pariah.

His new outcast status is only made more obvious at the cocktail party later that day. He’d wanted to skip it entirely, the fact you were supposed to be his plus one to the event made it all the more unappealing, but he’s already skating on thin ice and had no legitimate excuse to justify his absence. So instead he watches the other heroes talk and drink and laugh about things while he hides in the corner, too exhausted and heartbroken to put up the persona necessary to maintain conversation. No one seems to ask about him anyway or even care what he thinks despite the fact it’s his personal life that’s become the hottest topic in all of Japan. He wonders if this is how Icarus felt as he plummeted to the earth. Hawks had flown too close to your light and warmth and now he’s fallen from grace. He wonders if it’s true that Icarus laughed as he fell. If so he can empathize. As painful as this fall is, he would live it over and over if it meant he could catch even a glimpse of you again.

When Shoto comes to join him it’s literally the first genuine interaction he’s had all day. “You look like shit,” Shoto comments by way of greeting. “Thanks. Feel like it too,” Hawks replies. He doesn’t have to pretend with Shoto and for that he’s grateful. “Are you ok?” Shoto asks. “Even though I’ve always hated these things I was always so good at them,” Hawks starts in response. “I’d talk, drink, laugh just like everyone’s doing, be the center of attention, play the part of the charming number two hero. And look at me now. I’m so fucking anxious about what they’ll say about me, about her, about us and what happened that I can’t have a proper fucking conversation. I used to be on fire and now I’m standing in the ashes of who I used to be and I’m just fading away. Without her I’m fading away. I’m just as pathetic as she said,” Keigo confesses and it’s a weight off but it also makes the hollow space behind his ribs where you used to live feel all the more prominent. “This right here is kind of pathetic,” Shoto starts, earning him a shocked almost laugh from the other man, “but you are not pathetic Hawks. I think (y/n) knows that, she’s just hurting. Rightfully so. The bullshit with the others in the agency will get better too.” “I don’t know about that one.” “You’re not the only one who’s done dumb or bad shit. Not by a long shot.” “Really?” “You know Iida?” Shoto asks, pointing to the man in question as he obliviously continues his conversation with one of the others present. “Yea. Your year at UA, stickler for the rules. What about him?” Hawks asks. “He chose his internship our first year with the sole intention of trying to hunt down and kill Stain to avenge his brother.” “Really? That guy?” “Yep. My dad isn’t so innocent either: quirk marriage, child abuse, oh the stories I could tell you.” “Jesus Christ.” “Exactly. Everyone has their own shit Hawks. This will pass and hopefully you and (y/n) can find your ways back to each other when it does.”

Shortly after Todoroki finishes speaking his phone rings and he frowns down in confusion when he notices it’s Bakugo calling him. “I didn’t think we had task force business today,” Shoto says as he answers the phone. “We don’t. Is Hawks there with you?” Bakugo asks, his tone betraying his worry. “Yea he is.” “Shit.” “What’s going on Bakugo?” “It’s about (y/n),” Bakugo admits and Shoto’s eyes widen. He casts a look at Hawks before finally deciding to drag the other man with him to an empty office on the floor they’re currently on. He locks the door behind them and then pops his phone on speaker. “Ok you’re on speaker with me and Hawks what’s going on with (y/n)?” Shoto asks, his voice remaining calm. “All Might fired her last night so she was supposed to come in this morning and collect her stuff except instead she pretty much just threw everything away. I came back to patrol and found out she’d left Midoriya and I little gifts on our desk which was weird, so I hit up her roommates and apparently she never went home after she swung by here. I thought she and Hawks may have run off together but if he’s with you...” Bakugo explains. “Maybe she’s just clearing her head or something,” Shoto suggests. “No way. The whole of Japan is gossiping about her right now, the last thing she’d want is to be out in public,” Bakugo quickly refutes. “Was there anything else off about your desks? Drawers opened?” Hawks asks. “Maybe, I wasn’t paying that much attention. Why?” Bakugo asks. “Your task force notes still there?” Hawks asks in lieu of an answer. Hawks and Shoto wait with baited breath as they hear the sound of Bakugo moving around and then opening a desk drawer. “Nope, they’re gone,” Bakugo finally reports back. “Thought so. (Y/n) wouldn’t just roll over and kiss her career goodbye, she’s probably trying to take out the terrorist cell herself and use it as leverage to get her job back,” Hawks deduces. “Alone? That’s a suicide mission,” Shoto says. “Hence the gifts on the desks,” Hawks replies grimly. “Most of our notes are over there with you guys though,” Bakugo points out. As if on cue an alarm starts blaring overhead warning of an intruder. “That’s gotta be her,” Hawks says. “I’m on my way, hold her there so we can talk some sense into that idiot,” Bakugo tells them before promptly hanging up the phone.

Hawks has to give credit where credit is due. As foolhardy as your plan is, it’s incredibly well executed. As a former member of the guest list, you would’ve known everyone would be occupied with the cocktail party on one of the lower floors, far away from where the files you need are. The elevators will take forever with so many people trying to all get upstairs which only leaves the stairs, which are marginally better but still relatively slow. You must have spent most of the night planning this out. That thought fills Hawks with a certain amount of dread. You’re probably emotional and sleep deprived on your way to take on an entire villain group yourself all in a desperate bid to save your career. It almost sounds ludicrous. Yet, as Hawks races to the top floor in hopes of catching you, all he can think of is something you’d once told him during happier times, late at night as you two were wrapped up in each other:

“Honestly Kei? I’d rather die a hero than live long enough to prove those stupid reporters right about me.”

Author’s Note: Does this still count as a double update if I’m posting the second one after midnight 💀 anyway I can’t believe how quickly I was able to get this chapter out. The image of Hawks standing in the corner of a massive company party feeling like a shell of himself is actually a large part of what sold me on writing this fic for him. The song this chapter correlates to just felt so right for his character that I knew it couldn’t be anyone else. I thought about waiting to post this until later tomorrow today? but I’m ✨impatient✨ so instead y’all get it now

Taglist [open]: @akkaso @cathy8taffy @eeppff @iikillerkitteh @pixelwisp @pokesosa @lildockel @bread0nhead @lavender-moon13

#hopelesspf #hawks #wing hero hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #cw suicide mention #tw suicide mention

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kerra-and-company · 3 years

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Okay, I am having song and character thoughts on this day because I managed to find both a really good song for Casca and a good one for my Kerra/Nisha/Canach trio :D

Starting with Casca, we have Sugar Popped Sunshine by Static-P, which is a delightful combination of joyful, motivational, and oddly cutting--bits of it just have an edge, which I could just be imagining because the lyrics are very positive, but I think it’s in the way some of the words are said. But anyways, if you want to get a feel for Casca’s personality, please do listen to it. She’s glad to be alive, she’ll fight for whatever she has, and she’s kind of accepted things as fleeting and changing. (Also, all of the horns in this song should be her backing track, for sure.)

Kerra/Nisha/Canach get I Will Always Be Yours by Ben Rector, and I’m thinking about it for them specifically right after HoT. If I was making an AMV of this, Nisha would get the first verse, Canach would get the second, and Kerra would get the last bit (the bridge and the chorus repetition). I’m actually going to break down the lyrics and talk a bit about their relationship development just for fun under the cut, so if you’re curious at all, feel free to click the read more. (Beware of decently large paragraphs!)

Okay! Time for rambling :D Starting with Nisha:

I've been afraid Been alone, been undone I've been on fire Flying high as the sun

In a world where things come and go The only thing I've ever known is true, oh, is you

Xe has had so many rough bits in xyr life--terrified of not living up to expectations, scared of losing xyr brother, trying to find xyr place and finally accepting that it’s wherever xe makes it, etc. But xe’s also gotten very far--part of the Pact, made friends, accepted that xe and xyr brother are close and can get closer still but that they have their own lives, etc.

And as for the last two lines, on a broad sense, there’s other things xe’s known as true, but Kerra and Canach are different. Kerra starts off as Rel’s friend, then becomes Nisha’s, then slowly changes into a crush, but xe’s known from the moment xe met Kerra that she was important. Canach is a little bit different, but not as much as you’d think. Nisha’s a “stickler” (of sorts) for jobs, but not really for rules, and when xe gets to the bigger picture of the Consortium and all the shit going on in Southsun (and what Canach was trying to do), xe ends up firmly on his side--in the sense of “you tried to do the right thing because you decided that was your job, and yes, you fucked up, but you were trying and will continue to try”. As someone who feels like xe’s been trying and never really succeeding for xyr entire life, this makes a big impression on Nisha.

I've been the prince, I've been the pauper Been the star and played the fool Been the winner and the loser In between them, too But no matter who I might become Or who I've been before I will always be I will always be yours

The chorus is largely the same kind of interpretation for all of them, so I won’t elaborate too much here. But ye--all of them have had “higher status” and “lower status” and good times and bad, and...yeah!

Canach’s verse:

I'd run through flames Push back fate, break down walls I'd give my heart Give my breath, give it all

In a world where things come and go The only thing I can't afford to lose, oh, is you

The lyrics are decently self-explanatory, in the sense that the meaning is clear: being willing to sacrifice for the person (or people, in this case) that you care about. But especially the inherent vulnerability bit in being willing to give your heart away when you’ve been through as much as Canach has is what really makes me pick this for him. And it’s also an incredible end point for him to get to, edges worn down just enough by Kerra and Nisha, who are responsible for stopping him when he needed to be stopped, Kerra who banters back and forth with him and Nisha who jumps in with teasingly cutting remarks and a smirk, Kerra who snorted at his words at Anise’s party and Nisha who actually asked for an answer to the rhetorical question he posed, Kerra who trusted him enough to ask him to have her back against an Elder Dragon and Nisha who had his back multiple times without question against distrustful Pact soldiers, and a thousand other things. They’re important to him, and he would never have been the first to admit it, but he doesn’t ever want to lose them.

Chorus again (Canach-flavored this time), and then Kerra comes in. She doesn’t have a specific verse because I’m specifically thinking of her singing this bit that comes right after the second chorus:

In a world where things come and go The only thing I've ever known is true, oh, is you

Which represents the fact that she is the one who actually confesses to the other two first, after they get back from defeating Mordremoth. She’s too exhausted to stand properly, and she’s sitting propped up in whatever type of foldable cots the Pact medics have with them, and Canach and Nisha are there--Canach because he helped carry her onto and off the copter, and Nisha because a) xe wants to be and b) the only other place xe would want to be is with Rel, who (along with the rest of the healers) is doing his best to help Trahearne--and Kerra basically just blurts out, “I love you”. Which of course makes all three of them freeze, and Kerra’s glow flares super bright, and she starts rambling; that lasts for approximately five seconds before Nisha unfreezes and lunges forward to kiss both of them (Kerra first, cutting her off, and then Canach, who looks like his brain may have exploded). And then Nisha starts apologizing for not asking first, and Kerra starts laughing, and Canach makes some sort of sound close to a choked-off and startled laugh, and one of them kisses Nisha, and they dissolve into something chaotic and more subdued than expected and very happy.

(I’m planning on writing a fic about that. The words haven’t been cooperating with me, but we’ll see. One day. :D )

This doesn’t quite go with the last chorus, but because I talked a bit about Nisha and Canach, I wanted to ramble a bit about Kerra before I stopped. Nisha starts off as “Rel’s sibling”, then “someone who lost a friend at Claw Island like I did”, then “you’re a friend now, but more peripheral than close”, then “you did something really important for me and now you’re sticking around, so close is becoming a thing”. They grow progressively closer during LWS1 and LWS2 both with each other and with Canach, after they meet him. Kerra, out of the two of them, is the one who holds more of a...not exactly a grudge, but has a harder time dealing with how many people Canach hurt because he wasn’t considering consequences as much as he should have been. But she goes to talk to him, and his level of regret is obvious enough that she walks a fine line between holding him accountable and blaming him (which are really only different connotatively and mean the same thing literally, so don’t mind me, I’m trying to emphasize the difference between recognition and recognition with anger), and after about three visits goes, “ah; shoots and thorns, I made another friend, didn’t I”. (And then both friendships turn into crushes, as sometimes happens.)

Anyways, sorry, this was SO much text, and if you’ve read all of it, thanks for getting this far! Hope you enjoyed learning more about these three, who I love, and really need to actually write a fic about xD (I keep overthinking it too much! Maybe I’ll get one done when I’m on break from school...we’ll see.)

#gw2 #kerralind #nishannai #casca shadowstorm #kerra/nisha/canach #god I have rambled So Much on this day but i'm putting it out into the ether #feel free to read my many thoughts that will become a fic one day #(probably!)#but now they're out in the world at least!#kai speaks

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shkspr · 4 years

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i’m very attached to the K and all that it stands for (pun intended) so my theory is this: trans icon martin blackwood spent a long time trying to find a name that Fit (”sorry, sorry, i just wanted to try it out”) and when he went to change his name legally he couldn’t commit to a middle name, so his legal name is just martin blackwood. he always knew he liked the sound of a k in his name, it made for a good middle initial, but he couldn’t land on one name.

and i think, for all his faults, jon has always been vocally accepting and supportive of his colleagues when they get a bit personal on a night out or something; he’s a good man to talk to about gender and sexuality feelings because he listens and he always has the dry rational angle covered to combat whatever strong emotions his friends are feeling about their crises. but he is still openly disdainful of martin, so it’s a unique balance.

so it’s sometime in season one, or maybe even pre-archives, when martin “tells jon his middle name.” they’re all together, the two of them and tim and sasha, and it’s not something martin would usually just offer up in casual conversation, but he’s just changed it again and he really likes the sound of this one and he wants to test it out aloud to see how it sounds and how it feels. so when sasha jokingly calls him “martin jeremiah blackwood,” he says “that’s not my middle name,” and she says “no, it’s tim’s, i just like the way it sounds with any name”

and jon says “what is your middle name, martin?” and martin has a moment of panic because jon doesn’t usually ask him questions, jon doesn’t usually show an active interest in his life, but then he remembers that he has recently changed his middle name (in his head because that’s the only place he has a middle name) and he actually wants to tell them, to test the waters. so he says “kalidasa,” and they all look at him for a second just to be sure he isn’t joking. and he isn’t, or at least he isn’t copping to it, and it’s at that moment that jon has to leave, always a stickler for the rules, not willing to go over his scheduled lunch break time.

and then when he’s gone, sasha says “that’s a really nice name. what’s it mean?” and martin explains, because the meaning is the bulk of the significance: it means “servant of [the hindu goddess] kali” and it was the name of a classical indian writer whose work is very important to martin personally. there was a single hardcover book with no dustjacket on a low shelf in his home on the day, months after his father had left, when his mother finally decided to get rid of all his things. just one book, that’s what eight-year-old martin managed to squirrel away while his mum directed moving men to take his dad’s boxes away, and so he cherished that book, a slim volume of classical sanskrit poetry.

martin recites a bit of it from memory, his eyes going a bit fuzzy as he stares off into the distance and murmurs, “look to this day: for it is life, the very life of life. in its brief course lie all the verities and realities of your existence. the bliss of growth, the glory of action, the splendour of achievement are but experiences of time. for yesterday is but a dream and tomorrow is only a vision; and today well-lived, makes yesterday a dream of happiness and every tomorrow a vision of hope. look well therefore to this day; such is the salutation to the ever-new dawn.”

sasha and tim don’t let on that they’re aware he picked the name himself, nor do they make any derisive comments or poke fun at him. they know where to draw a line, they know martin’s sensitive about anything to do with his dad, and they know it’s just generally a dick move to make fun of someone’s name. sasha smiles and tells him that’s very touching, and then she says “my middle name is josephine, after my mum’s aunt,” and that’s the subject easily changed, and they move on as normal as anything.

martin lasts about two weeks before deciding he hates “kalidasa” and he hates himself for picking it, it sounds stupid and pretentious and everyone already thinks he’s trying way too hard, he doesn’t need to go and make it worse. but it never comes up again like that, with all the shit that keeps happening, so he never gets the chance to set the record straight with jon. he tells tim, at some point, what he’s thinking of changing it to now, and tim is very supportive. but jon goes several years thinking his name is martin kalidasa blackwood, and martin is painfully aware of that fact at times.

so. when jon becomes post-apocalyptic google and martin asks what his middle name is... well, he’s not quite sure what he expects. he’s stuck with the same middle name for a while now, since around the time his mum died. they didn’t always get on perfectly, but he loved her; he’s not in denial, but that doesn’t mean he has to let his every memory of her be tainted. anyway, he was getting sick of his last middle name, and he wanted to honor his mum. iris was her name, it means rainbow.

and despite their rocky relationship, she gave him his faith, which has so often been a source of comfort and community when he had none, and he’ll always be thankful for that, he’ll always cherish that. it all sort of fell into place, really, it seemed to fall into his lap that the hebrew word for rainbow happens to start with a k. so he’s been martin keshet blackwood for about a year, give or take an apocalypse, and he doesn’t anticipate changing it anytime soon, and not only because he doesn’t have the time to think about his name while he’s trying to fight the world.

that’s it, he thinks, this is as permanent as things get in this world, so he figures that’s what will pop into jon’s head, but it doesn’t and that’s fine. nobody knows how any of this works, and so jon gains the knowledge that martin doesn’t have a middle name in any legal or official capacity. and jon says “i actually believed you! that’s ridiculous, i thought, that’s not a real name, but he wouldn’t lie to me!” and martin feels a tiny little warm flowers blooming in his chest at that because - well, because jon thought of him, back then, asked him a question and then ruminated on his answer after the fact and concluded that martin wouldn’t lie to him, and that’s a sight better than where he thought he’d stood at the time.

there’s some guilt, too, of course, because he was lying to jon at the time, and he felt bad about it at the time and he feels bad about it now but they’re so far past that, aren’t they. and he clears it up, later. the next lull in their journey, the next quiet moment that they have to just talk to each other, he clears up the whole issue and explains the whole story and jon laughs, because it’s funny. and then he says something awful sappy, something like:

“the journey to the man you want to be is one that i will gladly travel, too. whatever name you choose is fine with me, so long as it’s a name that pleases you. keshet is lovely, for that’s what you are: a burst of color in a dreary sky, a ray of hopeful beauty from afar, a comfort from the ever-present eye, your smile a pot of gold i treasure so. each color leads me deeper in this love, to places inside you i’d like to know, to all the little things that you dream of. if one day soon you find you wish to change, your life and name are yours to rearrange.”

martin cries, of course he does, and he gets a little indignant through his tears - “it’s not fair that you can just spin that off the tip of your tongue; poetry is supposed to be my thing; i try so hard, and here you come, just spouting rhymes like nobody’s business” - but there’s no real rancor in it, only fondness and warmth and the affirming knowledge that even here, they can learn new things about each other; even here, they can be together in a way that feels like home to them; even here, they have their love, and they won’t let it go.

#tma spoilers #tma s5 #ok to rb #mag164 #i've been sitting on kalidasa for a while now bc i don't think he'd keep it but he would definitely try it #under a cut (assuming the cut works) bc it got looooooooooooooong #optma #meta #jm

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crystalninjaphoenix · 4 years

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The Magic Circle

A JSE Fanfic

Hey, who’s excited for my first non-AU piece in a long time? Who’s excited for my first one-shot in like forever? If you’re excited for either of those things, then this is the piece for you :D I took some inspiration from Marvin’s video on Halloween to come up with this. Here, Marvin meets a magic group for the first time. Let’s see what happens :)

It’s a bright summer day outside. The sun is still high in the sky, despite it being almost five o’clock. There are people walking around the city streets, either going somewhere or even just taking a walk. Birds are chirping on top of the power lines and in the trees planted along the sidewalk. And Marvin was locked inside his room trying not to break something in frustration.

“Oh my goooood.” He puts his head down on the desk surface with a bit more force than necessary. It hurts, but he doesn’t mind. “Fuuuuuck offffff.” The desk before him is lit up with a lamp, despite there being sufficient light coming from the window. The lamp shines down on a laptop, open to a Google Docs document, and a leatherbound book, open to blank pages. Marvin drops his pen down on the desk. “Fuck it.” And with that, he pushes his chair back and heads over to the room’s door, unlocking it and heading outside.

He goes down the hall to the stairs, then down to the first floor. For a moment, he stops and blinks. His eyes feel...weird. Well, it makes sense. He’s spent almost all day staring at a computer screen or a blank page. The only time he wasn’t was when he was going to the bathroom. That probably wasn’t good for his eyes.

According to the wall clock in the downstairs hallway, he’s been trying for nearly five hours. That explains why he’s so hungry. Marvin heads into the kitchen and starts looking through the cabinets for something quick but filling.

Someone knocks on the doorframe behind him. Marvin jumps, and spins around. JJ is standing there. He waves. Hello, Marvin. Did you finish?

Marvin snorts and rolls his eyes. “Oh, I wish. I’ve done like...three pages. God. Fuck.”

Oh dear...JJ frowns. What’s wrong?

“I dunno.” Marvin rubs his eyes. “I just keep getting distracted. Opening up YouTube and stuff. God, it’s just so boring. Why do I even need to write it all down in a book? All my spells and shit are saved online.”

Some people are sticklers for tradition, JJ points out. But anyway, maybe you should take a break. You haven’t eaten anything, have you?

“Uh...no. That’s why I’m here.” Marvin resumes rummaging through the cabinets. “Do we have any crisps? I’m thinking of making nachos.”

You’re not just going to eat nachos, you haven’t had anything since you woke up at ten. JJ walks over and slowly pushes the door to the cabinet closed. Here, go sit down in the dining room. I’ll make you something.

“C’mon, JJ, you don’t have to. You were probably doing something else, don’t stop that for me.”

I was going to make dinner anyway, JJ shrugs. I know you don’t eat until later, usually, but please make an exception. You can’t work on that grimoire if you collapse from hunger.

Marvin sighs. “Yeah. Thanks.” He bumps his shoulder against JJ’s—a sign of affection that could easily be mistaken for clumsiness—and heads into the dining room.

He wishes he’d never found out about the greater magical community. Ever since he had, all it meant were problems. He had to learn all about the structure of this community, about how this organization called the ABIM made laws, about how certain spells were supposed to be regulated, about how things like wands, crystal balls, and other magical aides were supposed to be made certain ways. Marvin had always done his own thing. He didn’t exactly think he was the only person in the world with magic—after all, if that was the case, who wrote down all the spells he found online? But it hadn’t exactly registered that they were probably organized somehow, and that he should probably go look for others. Thanks to his total lack of searching for other magicians, the ABIM hadn’t realized he existed until about two months ago.

But now they know. And Marvin has to learn and keep up with a bunch of rules and regulations. The one that’s giving him the most trouble is the existence of a “grimoire.” Apparently, magicians are required to write down all the spells they know, and keep them in one place. And no, the document where Marvin had copy-pasted all the spells he’d found online doesn’t count. So now he’s spent the last week or so struggling to transcribe the online document into the book he’d purchased. Progress is...slow. Marvin just can’t focus on something as unstimulating as copying words down. There’s not even any new information to process.

Luckily, eating dinner helped him get some energy back. But when it’s all said and done, and he pushes away his plate, he’s dreading going back upstairs to try and ultimately fail some more. “Thanks, JJ,” he says.

You already said so, and you’re still welcome, JJ says. Then he pauses. Is there anyone who could help you with this? Other magicians lately?

Marvin groans. “Yeah, I guess I know some, but...I don’t wanna.”

Yes, we know, you’re very stubborn, JJ signs patiently.

“I can figure this out,” Marvin insists. “I can do things on my own!”

Except for making dinner, apparently.

Marvin can’t help but laugh. “Ah, ya got me there.” He sighs, and stares absently out the window. “Look, all the magicians I’ve met so far are part of this government group. And I don’t like them.”

Well, if you ask them for help, perhaps your opinion on that would change, JJ suggests.

“Well I wouldn’t be doing this in the first place if it wasn’t for their stupid fucking law!” Marvin snaps. Then he winces. “Sorry, didn’t mean to yell at you. I’m just...tired.”

JJ nods. Maybe you should stop for the night. It could be easier in the morning.

“Maybe.”

And also, if you keep getting distracted, have you tried putting on music? Or perhaps doing something with your spare hand while you write? That helps me.

“Maybe.” Marvin’s still uncertain.

JJ pushes his chair back and stands up. Also, can you please do the dishes?

“What?! But you cooked!”

Exactly, and we both ate it, so it’s only fair we both do something about it.

“Oh come on, I’m all tired, please?”

JJ merely folds his arms and stares at Marvin.

“Alright, fine,” Marvin relents. “I’ve been sitting all day, might as well do something a bit active.”

Oh thank you! JJ says, beaming.

“Heh, act like you didn’t twist my arm,” Marvin mutters, shaking his head affectionately.

———————

Later that night, Marvin finds he’s having trouble going to sleep. He keeps thinking about JJ’s suggestion, the one about asking other magicians for help. Sure, he isn’t exactly fond of the ABIM magicians he’s met so far. But maybe someone else...then again, perhaps the problem with transcribing his spells is just with him, and not with the actual subject matter.

Still, it can’t hurt to get a second opinion, right? But how to find the magicians?

An idea starts to form in his mind. Marvin gets out of bed and walks over to the desk. His laptop is still set up from that day. He powers it on. The time on the computer clock reads 11:20pm. Wow, he’d only been trying to get to sleep for an hour, he thought it was longer. Anyway, he goes back to the document of his spells, searching through them for one specific spell.

Yes, there it is. The title is “Magic Minds,” a tracking spell he’d recently picked up. It’s supposed to be able to guide a magician to other magicians. Marvin hasn’t used it yet, since he had no real reason to. He didn’t want to run into magicians before, but why not now?

Marvin grabs his phone from where it was charging, and quickly changes out of pajamas and into regular clothes. He pauses, then also grabs his cape from his closet. There’s no real reason to wear it, but it would make him feel a bit better. And with all this, he heads downstairs and outside.

The spell is easy enough to cast. He’s done tracking spells before, and they all require the same basic steps. An incantation or a few gestures, then you follow whatever visual cue the spell uses to find your target.

He turns his wand over in his hands, flicking it upward, downward, side to side. Green sparks left behind by the movements make a cross, +, hovering in the air. Technically he could have used his hands, but he likes the wand. And with the cross sign hovering there, Marvin whispers a word, and blows on the middle of the cross. A wisp of green light dances out from the breath, and hits the cross. From the spot of impact, the cross turns from green to white, and falls down to be horizontal, parallel to the ground. It spins, reorienting itself, then one leg of the cross turns red as the cross settles, pointing somewhere. Marvin heads in that direction.

The cross acts as a compass, pointing in one direction. He hopes it’s not too far away. People would think it’s weird, seeing one guy with a magic compass in a cape wandering around the city at night. But unfortunately, it turns out to be far enough that he regrets not taking the bus. Then he remembers that the buses don’t run this late at night, and regrets not doing this in the daytime. How is he simultaneously the most impulsive and least impulsive person he knows?

He makes his way to a section of the city full of identical, red-bricked terrace houses. The compass starts glowing brighter. That must mean he’s getting closer. Though, looking around and seeing nothing but residential buildings around, he’s not sure he wants to break in to someone’s house. This situation doesn’t exactly call for it. He’ll probably just write down the address.

The compass flickers, drawing him out of his train of thought. It locks onto one direction, flares brightly, and then dies. Marvin growls, frustrated. This isn’t the time for the spell to fail!

“You couldn’t have waited to put it on?”

Marvin jumps a bit at the voice, and ducks into the nearest alley way. He glances around, and sees a pair of people on the other side of the street, walking. Oddly enough, one of them is wearing a black cloak. No...it can’t be this easy...

“Oh, who’s out to see it?” a different voice says. “It’s late.”

“It’s a busy city, you’re just lucky no one’s out in this section,” the first voice snaps.

The pair walks up to one of the houses, standing on the doorstep. They continue to whisper to each other, too quiet for Marvin to hear on the other side of the street. After a while, the door opens, and the two of them disappear inside.

Strange...Marvin walks out of the alleyway, staring at the house on the other side of the street. What’s this all about? He glances around, making sure there are no cars or people coming, then runs across the street, stopping outside the house. He pauses, then glances into the window quickly. The inside doesn’t look any different from an average house, but he’s not sure since he ducks away quickly so nobody inside will notice him. Though strangely, there aren’t any people inside, even though there must have been at least three. He glances back in, just to make sure they aren’t anywhere.

It’s then that he notices something strange. The image through the window is...shimmering. Like a heat wave in the air. But the glass isn’t warped or anything that would cause that effect. On a whim, Marvin presses a finger to the window pane.

And surprisingly, the window appears to shiver. A wave of warm yellow light ripples out from the point of contact, just like water across the surface of a still pond. Slowly, the effect ends, and once it does, Marvin can see people gathered in the living room. And they’re all wearing black cloaks.

What was this? A magic gathering? Marvin’s curiosity grabs a hold of him. He has to get inside. But how?

He gets out his phone, looking through the spells he has gathered again. There should be an invisibility one here somewhere. He hadn’t used it since his days as a stage magician, but he must still have it. Though it takes a while of scrolling, he does eventually find it. It’s just an incantation, but it requires the magician to use absolute focus as long as they want to remain invisible. He always had trouble with that part, which is why he gave up on using it as soon as his career ended. Until now, he thought it was only good for escape tricks.

Scanning the incantation a couple times to make sure he knows it, Marvin takes a deep breath. He puts his phone back, then rings the doorbell and quickly whispers the incantation. A rush of cool flows over him, like suddenly walking out of a heated building into a cold outside, and when he next looks down, he can’t see his own body. He gasps in triumph, but then he sees his body flicker, and returns to concentrating on staying invisible.

The door opens, and a man in a cloak looks around. Marvin ducks past him, and luckily just barely avoids brushing against him. “Hello?” the man calls. A few moments pass, and the man shakes his head and closes the door.

Marvin finds himself standing in a living room, decorated in warm colors. At least ten people are gathered, all wearing black cloaks, though it appears they’re wearing regular street clothes under them. There’s a coffee table in the middle of the room, with a few various desserts lined up on it. A low buzz of chatter fills the air.

“What was it, Callisto?” a woman asks.

The man who opened the door shakes his head. “Nobody was there. Probably some kids’ prank.”

“In the middle of the night?” the woman asks doubtfully.

“You don’t know this neighborhood,” the man—Castillo—grumbles.

“You should have taken the cloak off before answering!” Someone else says.

“Shut up Basil, nobody would’ve cared,” Castillo snaps.

Marvin walks closer into the gathering, trying not to be distracted by the various conversations. It was difficult. Words kept sneaking into his awareness despite his best efforts. No, stay invisible. Stay invisible. Complete focus.

“Why does everyone keep bringing desserts to the meeting?” A woman nearby complains.

“Because it tastes fucking good, duh,” another woman next to her says.

“Can we get started already?” asks a man. “Hey Castillo! Everyone’s here, right? Can we get started?”

“Jeez, who lit the fire under your pants, Leo?” Someone mutters.

“Hey, I’m only pointing out that it’s almost midnight, Lily,” Leo says. “We’re running out of time!”

“Alright, Leo’s right, we’re getting close to the time,” Castillo sighs. “Alright, listen up everyone! We’re heading down to the basement to get started!”

A wave of chatter breaks out, and everyone files out of the room. Marvin rushes to the side in order to avoid anyone bumping into him. He watches silently as they all move into the hall and then down a set of stairs. What are they doing? He hesitates, then follows cautiously. A bunch of people in cloaks heading down to a basement for some sort of ritual? Every movie, book, and game ever says that’s a shady thing and should not be checked out. Yet he’s so curious. Is this what other magicians do?

The staircase isn’t too long, and it opens up into a large, wide room. Marvin was expecting a concrete floor and visible rafters, but it looks more like an entertainment room. The walls were painted a pale yellow, the floor was mostly carpeted, there were sofas and chairs and even one of those huge beanbags. It’s lit up by lightbulbs mounted directly into the ceiling, which makes it look just like any other household room. The only thing different is a square section of dark hardwood floor with a circle drawn on it in, well, what looks like salt. A few tall candles sit around the edges of the circle, in alternating purple and orange colors.

Marvin walks closer to the circle. There are some symbols drawn around its edge, also in salt. He’s surprised to realize he doesn’t recognize any of them. They’re not part of any runes he knows. But he does feel like he’s seen them before, somewhere else. Maybe it’s a different runic alphabet? But what does this mean?

“Hey, did you see that?” someone asks.

“See what?”

“I dunno, I thought...nevermind.”

“C’mon, Morgana.”

“Well, I just thought it looked like a person out of the corner of my eye.”

Marvin inhales sharply and goes back to concentrating on staying invisible. This is the last place he wants that to wear off.

“It’s five minutes to midnight!” Castillo calls. “Everyone in position!”

There’s a bit of awkward shuffling as the group moves to stand around the circle. A few people whisper about watching the edge of the salt to make sure it doesn’t get knocked out of place. “Someone get the lights,” Castillo says.

“Uh, shouldn’t we light the candles first so it’s not dark?” Basil points out.

“Oh, I have a lighter!” Morgana volunteers.

“Oh yeah.” Castillo nods. “Mor, you light the candles. Uh, James, you’re closest to the lights, knock them out, will you?”

“Everyone watch their hems,” Morgana says as she starts going around the edge of the circle and lighting the candles. Once they’re all lit, a man dashes over to the wall and hits the light switch, plunging the room into darkness except for the candlelight.

“Hands, everyone,” Castillo instructs. Everyone grabs their neighbors’ hands, forming a connected circle. “Two minutes to midnight. Time to start. Make sure you chime in at the right time.”

Silence falls. Marvin holds his breath, waiting for something to happen. And soon, the circle starts murmuring. No, it’s not just that, they’re actually chanting, all in a low, quiet voice. More voices join in, and they all get louder. Harmonies break off as different strings of words jump in, until the group is singing, their voices echoing off the walls.

Lines appear on the floor inside the circle. Lines of orange light, each one starting at the feet of one of the magicians, then ending at the feet of another. There were so many, connecting each magician to every other member of the group. The light coming from them grew brighter, and then—

SNAP!

Sparks flew into the air in the center of the circle. Quicker than what should be possible, they grow into a fire, hovering about three feet off the ground. The flames start orange, and then flicker between different colors—red, yellow, green, purple, blue, pink, white, and everything in between. It was as if a firework had gone off in the room, completely contained within a small part of the air. Marvin couldn’t help but gasp. And, as he stared closer into the fire, he realized there weren’t just colors...there were images as well. Shapes of people and objects forming scenes. They pass by too quickly for him to fully make out.

The chanting reaches a crescendo, and the fire breaks down into small balls of flame. Each one shoots toward one of the magicians, disappearing into their chests. For a moment, all the magicians glow with the colors of the fire. And then it fades. The lines on the floor disappear, and the magicians slowly stop their chants.

There’s a brief moment of quiet, like the heavy sort of silence one hears after having finished a good book and absorbing the story it contained. And then: “James, can you get the lights again?”

The man from before walks over to turn on the light switch. Everyone gasps and blinks in the suddenly bright room. Idle chatter starts up.

“Hey wait a minute, who’s that?!”

Marvin gasps as one of the magicians points at him. They all turn to look, and he realizes too late that he’d forgotten to concentrate on the invisibility spell.

“Who are you?!”

“What are you doing here?!”

“How’d you get in?!”

And Marvin panics. He turns and runs up the stairs, hearing the magicians shout behind him. Skipping the last step, he bursts out into the first floor hallway and starts to sprint for the front door.

Someone shouts something, and there’s a burst of red light. Then only blackness.

———————

Marvin only realizes he lost consciousness once he starts regaining it. He groans, feeling a headache spike in his temples, and opens his eyes.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” A man is sitting next to him, wearing a black cloak. It takes Marvin a moment to recognize him as the Castillo guy. But upon recognition, he bolts upright. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down!” Castillo holds his hands up, slightly pushing Marvin back down. “You’re not in any trouble. Persephone hit you with a blackout spell, but she’s sorry about that.” He glares to the side. “Riiight?”

Every other cloaked magician is standing nearby. They’re all back in the living room from before, with Marvin lying on one of the sofas. “Uh, yeah, really sorry,” a woman says. “I freaked out and acted on instinct.”

“How are you feeling?” Castillo asks, turning back to Marvin. “Some people have allergic reactions to blackout spells. Are you having any trouble breathing?”

Marvin doesn’t answer, looking wide-eyed at the people around him. Now that he’s actively facing the prospect of talking to other magicians, his throat has closed up. It’s probably made worse by the fact that he technically broke into their secret meeting.

“Uh, sir?” Castillo reaches out and makes to grab Marvin’s arm.

“Don’t!” Marvin flinches away. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

“Oh, okay, sorry!” Castillo sharply withdraws. “Just wanted to be sure you were breathing.”

“Yeah, well, I’m fine, so don’t touch me,” Marvin grumbles. He shifts awkwardly, glancing around at the others. They’re starting to mutter among themselves. He can’t tell what they’re saying, and that makes him nervous. Are they mad at him? It would be understandable. But he’s terrible with tone of voice, so he can’t even tell, and the uncertainty makes him even more worried.

“I got it, no worries.” Castillo gives a friendly smile, no doubt meant to reassure Marvin. “But you are okay, right?”

“Yeah, fine,” Marvin mutters.

“That’s good,” Castillo nods. “Um...do you mind if I ask how you got here? This house is warded from any teleportations.”

“Yeah, if you guys tell me who you are first,” Marvin countered.

“We’re the Magic Circle, duh,” one of the other magicians says.

“Well I’ve never fucking heard of the Magic Circle, so excuse me for not knowing!” Marvin sits up on the sofa, scooting away from Castillo.

“Huh? Really?” Castillo looks puzzled. “Well, specifically, we’re the Mirygale chapter of the Magic Circle, it’s a nationwide organization.”

“Are you guys like a coven or something?” Marvin asks.

“We’re just a group, man,” another magician says. “We meet up, cast spells together, not that hard to grasp.”

“I’ve never heard of magic groups,” Marvin says warily.

Castillo blinks. “Seriously?”

“Well, I know the ABIM guys,” Marvin admits. “But that’s it.”

“ABIM is different,” Castillo says dismissively. “They’re like a government, and a loose one at that.” He pauses. “Are you...self-taught?”

“Yeah. Why the fuck does that matter?” Marvin demands.

It must have mattered significantly, because a chorus of “ohhhhhh” passed through the group. “Ah, that explains why you don’t know about magic groups,” Castillo says. “You’re a bit old for being self-taught, though. Most magicians from outside a magical family find—”

“—find out about the greater magic community when they’re in college, yeah, I know, I’ve heard that speech before,” Marvin says through clenched teeth. “So I’m a few years late, I was busy. Anyway, what are magic groups? Just like, magicians gathered together? Is that allowed? What do the ABIM think?”

Castillo laughs. “The Magic Circle is much older than the Association, they couldn’t get rid of us if they wanted to.” He shrugs. “Well, magic groups aren’t too hard to figure out. It’s just a bunch of magicians gathered together.” He sweeps his arm around the room. “Spells cast by a group are more powerful than just a single magician alone. We share spells with each other, come to each others’ aid in times of magical crisis, study magic together...they say two heads are better than one, you know? Stronger in numbers.”

Marvin nods slowly. “So...what were you doing in the basement?”

“That? That was a combination divination and prosperity spell,” Castillo explains. “Something like that you can only get in a group. It shows us significant events in the next year, then gives us good luck.”

“Never heard of a good luck spell...” Marvin mutters.

“Well, you’ve been practicing on your own, and doing luck spells on your own is a tricky business,” Castillo says. “So now it’s our turn. How’d you get inside?”

Marvin shifts uncomfortably, then reluctantly explains the whole thing with the Magic Minds spell and the invisibility.

“Ohhh, I know that spell!” One of the magicians says excitedly. “But you’re supposed to include your target’s full name in the incantation, otherwise it’ll just lead you to the nearest magician.”

“Why were you looking for magicians?” Another one asks.

Marvin looks down. Now that the time has come for it, he’s kind of embarrassed. “I dunno, I...sort of wanted help with this grimoire thing. But it’s stupid. Nevermind.”

“Huh? What kind of help?” Castillo asks. “You know the Magic Minds spell and an invisibility spell, you seem pretty knowledgeable.”

Marvin scowls. “Well, apparently, it needs to be in a book, not online at all. Which is fucking dumb. Why do I have to copy it all over?! It’s all already there!”

“Have you tried listening to a podcast while doing it?” One of the magicians suggests. “It gives you something to focus on.”

Castillo chuckles. “Well, if it’s a problem with focus, I don’t know if magicians specifically could help.”

“Shut up,” Marvin mutters. “Maybe there’s a spell to copy it all over for me—”

“If you found one, let me know, will you?” Castillo jokes.

Marvin glares at him, then stands up. “Well, I’m sorry for interrupting your Magic Circle shit, I’ll just go now, because clearly this was a stupid fucking idea—”

“Hey wait!” Castillo stands up as well. “What’s your name, bro?”

“Don’t call me bro!” Marvin growls. “But it’s Marvin. Marvin Moore.”

“Wait holy shit like Marvin the Magnificent?!” A magician says excitedly. Marvin recognizes him as the James one. “You had real magic the whole time?! No wonder people couldn’t figure out your tricks!”

Marvin can’t help but smile proudly at that. “Hell yeah, people loved it.”

“Well, Mr. Moore, you have some powerful magic in you,” Castillo says admirably. “You bypassed all the wards I set up here without even trying.” He walks over to a table with drawers, pulling one open and taking out a pen and notebook. After scribbling something down, he tears out the page, and walks back over to hand it to Marvin. “This is all our information, and my personal phone number. If you ever have a group you want to join, call us, okay?”

“Oh! Do it!” James encourages. “Then we’ll be thirteen, it’ll be the ideal number for most spells! And we’ll have a famous guy in our chapter!”

“Hey, let him make his own decision,” a nearby magician says.

Marvin scans the information from the paper. There could be benefits to joining a magic group...one of which being that he’ll finally have more than five people to talk to. And were these spells cast by groups really more powerful? A familiar feeling starts to grow inside him, a feeling of wanting to know, of wanting to be the best. That feeling led him astray in the past, got him mixed up in branches of magic he probably shouldn’t have been involved in. But if he’s with other people, it’ll be different, right? He hesitates for just one moment longer, then asks, “Hey, so uh, what if I’ve already made my decision?”

———————

The next day, Marvin finds himself sitting at his desk once more, with his laptop and his unfinished grimoire before him. But there were also a couple other things as well. A slim book, its cover decorated with the same sort of symbols he’d seen written in that circle of salt, and a sphere of black crystal. “Consider these your entrance-level gifts,” Castillo had said. “I don’t know how familiar you are with the types of magic the Circle likes to use, so this’ll be your beginner’s course.”

Marvin actually isn’t familiar with these branches of magic at all. And that makes this book all the more fascinating. It contains a guide to the symbols they use, the principles of the magic, and a few basic spells. Interestingly, it seems to be derived from alchemy. Or maybe it is alchemy, Marvin doesn’t know. He’d never had any reason to look up what alchemy was before this.

He sets the book down, taking a moment to pick up his new crystal ball and look it over. He can already think of several uses for this, but that might have to wait until later. For now, he really needs to at least make some progress on the grimoire.

And where better to start than with the new, interesting spells? It’s sure to keep his focus if he’s copying down information he’s never heard before. Marvin puts the crystal ball down and picks up his pen. But before he starts writing, he puts on his headphones. Listening to a podcast, huh? Maybe that will help.

He can feel that something new is in the air. Something is changing. Marvin had never worked with other magicians before. The prospect is both exciting and a little nerve-wracking. But however this ends, he knows now that things will be different from here on, in some way or another. And he’s certainly excited to find out.

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