#i got bored and decided to take some acid. but then my dad asked me to move the car off the driveway for some reason. and i couldnt do it

[ot3]

i was wondering if youre so inclined if u would mind explaining whats so good about disco elysium? all i ever see ppl say is that its communist and theres old gay men which is like. well cool but that doesnt tell me anything about it actually. it seems like a lot of reading but its not like thats stopped me before (<- read all of orv on your reccommendation and hasnt stopped thinking about it since)

disco elysium is just a really meaningful piece of work. For starters, the prose is beautiful when it's not being funny as well, the world is rich and intricate and fully believable, and the characters are deeply compelling. Disco Elysium has you playing as an amnesiac detective coming out of the tail end of a more or less suicidally thorough bender a completely different person. It's up to you to pick what kind of person he is, but you can't choose to be Not a fuckup. You're still just a fuckup. You're always a fuckup.

I really found the way disco elysium dealt with mental illness to be super refreshing and honestly the most cathartic almost any media has been on the subject, for my personal tastes. I find a lot of media where mental illness comes into play leans either too indulgent or too saccharine for me. By indulgent i mean it really wants you to buy into How Sad we're supposed to feel about our character's mental state. And by saccharine I mean stuff that's focused almost exclusively in portraying mental illness in an almost hurt/comfort way, for lack of a better term. Disco elysium is not about the poignant, tragic beauty of mental illness nor is it about taking this character on a journey of Coping and Healing, although you could definitely play it closer to one way or another. Disco elysium is a game about being at war with your own brain and body, but also you still also need to work because. Well. It's your job, dipshit. It's humorous, it's crass, it's completely off the wall, capable of balancing the absurd and mundane in severe extremes to result in the realest feeling portrayal of mental illness I've come across. It handles addiction in what I'm sure is a similar way, but I can't speak as much on that subject because I don't have any firsthand experience with being an addict despite my best attempts to develop some sort of chemical dependency in the last two years.

But also yes, the game is very much about communism. Everyone saying that is absolutely correct but I think it's hard for people who haven't played it to understand just how About Communism it is. The author of the game and the novella its based off of is a self-proclaimed communist from estonia. This is not a western perspective on communism, nor is it a truly soviet one. It's a perspective on communism from someone who grew up in a country that was occupied by the soviet union multiple times and only regained its independence in 1991. It's a really fascinating thing to engage with because it just approaches politics so differently than any western stuff I've seen.

The game is in many ways miserably depressing and wholly pessimistic, but it's not the pessimism of the truly misanthropic doomer, it's the kind of pessimism you find in someone who is looking for any reason not to be pessimistic and just not finding any. It's a narrative that looks into it's main character, and looks into it's own world and is desperately searching for any reason to believe there's hope there and coming up empty handed every time but, god damn it, still looking. I think that right now something with that sort of message is important. It's a piece of writing that says to it's audience 'things are bad and getting worse, and we can't pretend otherwise, but this is your world. live in it.' And also it's really fucking funny. It's really one of those things I think as many as people a possible should experience. You won't find anything else like it in the world right now.

#one time back during the earlier covid months not too long after my last halfhearted suicide attempt #i got bored and decided to take some acid. but then my dad asked me to move the car off the driveway for some reason. and i couldnt do it #because i was tripping too hard to remember how to operate a stick shift #and all i had had in my body that day other than the acid was macadamia nuts and sprite #thats what disco elysium is about

[ura-writes]

Trampolinist - Part Two

Part summary: You encounter a few strange teenagers, discover blown-up ruins, and find out about who caused them.

Warnings: mild anxiety, thoughts of murder, blood, threats, lots of swears

A/N - I got a good few requests asking for a taglist for Trampolinist, so here it is! Just ask and you shall be added!

@lemonmochitea

@dad-ee-drea

@victoria-a567

Also, this is non-canon compliant, but only by a bit. I may change a few small details.

Hope y’all enjoy!

(Also, if you can find the movie reference I put in here, then kudos to you!)

——

A lingering curiosity sits in the back of your head for the rest of the week, not quelled by any amount of Bedwars or Skywars, which leave you exhausted in the evenings.

Even your dreams hold inquisitiveness.

How lovely.

Eventually you have to go back to your home world to check on your animals, repair your tools and the like. It’s tedious work, but nothing you can’t handle.

Boredom eventually sets in.

It’s unnerving. You never get bored of combat, of competition between your fellow players and teammates, but here you are, eyeing the list of servers on your grid.

Only two people are on the server at the moment, their names not available for whatever reason. You’d prefer to pop on when there were no people online, mostly to scope out the server, but you’ll take only having to deal with two people.

Hopefully they’re adults and not kids that recently learned to use portals.

You stick your pointer finger out, curl it like you’re dragging it down a wall; a ripple starts where your finger lands, slowly following its path downwards. It rips a hole through the fabric of woven servers, creating a direct link to the Dream SMP. You just hope that no one attempts to close the portal, as opening one in the first place takes a good deal of energy and effort.

A sight of spruce trees and misplaced dirt greets your vision through the rip in reality.

An odd spawnpoint, but whatever. You’re not one to judge.

In the corner of your eye, where chat normally sits, a message pops up.

TommyInnit: who the fcuck

TommyInnit: what

TommyInnit: NEWY PERFHSAON

Ranboo: ah yes, perfhsaon

TommyInnit: shut the fuck n up

You chuckle at the messages rapidly crowding the chat, watching them fade idly while trying to find a way out of the really weird spawnpoint, which is, for some reason, walled off by a combination of dirt, wood and stone haphazardly placed down, as if in a hurry.

Your efforts do not go unrewarded as you spot a section of the wall that sits lower than the rest, low enough to climb over if you try hard enough.

Perfect.

Feet hit the ground rapidly as you get a running start towards the wall, scrambling upward after you jump. You fall almost immediately off the other side.

“Ouch.”

“That looked like that hurt.”

You glance upward to meet heterochromic eyes, red and green contrasting with the curious face split in half by its black and white sides. A tail flicks behind the person as their crown slips a bit down their head.

“Wh—the fuck?”

The figure laughs at your reaction, offering a gloved hand out to help you off the ground. Hesitantly, you accept, being pulled up easily, and that’s when you realize that he’s a lot taller than you thought.

“Jesus, you’re tall,” you comment idly, brushing yourself off. “Thanks, by the way.”

“No problem. I’m Ranboo.”

You introduce yourself with your tag, which elicits a hum of recognition from him, much to your pleasant shock and surprise.

“You’re the person that Dream invited, aren’t you?”

“In the flesh.”

He laughs at your quip at him, smiling with sharp fangs exposed to the midday sunlight. No point in judging a person on their (potentially, anyway) monstrous features.

“Well, you probably need a tour—“

He’s quickly interrupted by a loud “hey!”

“Oh great,” you mutter, crossing your arms. Ranboo looks a bit sheepish at your cocked eyebrow and slightly irritated expression, scratching his bi-colored hair.

“That’s Tommy. He’s uh… well, Tommy.”

A teenager wearing a red and white shirt and jeans with battered sneakers comes sprinting out of the nearby forest, coming to a halt just in front of you.

“New person!”

“Yeah, and what are you, the gremlin that got fed after midnight?”

The kid sputters out a few protests against being called a gremlin, sprinkling a good few swears in his jumbled sentences that mostly consist of rambles.

When Tommy gets his bearings, he eyes your tag, squinting at it suspiciously before his eyes widen in recognition.

“You’re the bastard that beat the shit out of me in Bedwars! Get ove’ here—“

One of Ranboo’s arms shoots out to grab the lanky teenager with ease to stop his potential assault on you. You just brush your nails off on your shirt.

“Oi! Lemme a’em!”

“No, Tommy, remember what Tubbo said?” Ranboo lectures, tail flicking in annoyance, eyes trained on him. “Remember?”

“You’re one to talk about rememberin’.”

Ranboo cocks an eyebrow.

“No punchin’ people we don’t know unless they’ve hurt us…” Tommy grumbles. “Can ya lemme go now?”

Ranboo agrees, letting go of his shirt and summoning a journal and quill to write something down in, muttering that he’s almost out of ink.

“Anyway, how about that tour now?”

You smile at him.

Maybe you’ll like this place.

——

“...and this is L’Manburg… or what’s left of it, anyway. It’s still being rebuilt.”

“How’d it get destroyed?” you ask him. “It takes a lot of TNT, Withers and dedication to destroy a city this big.”

I should know.

Tommy eyes Ranboo.

“Hey, it’s your city. I’m not explaining it,” Ranboo defends against the wordless accusation. Tommy exhales with a groan and begins his explanation.

“Wil-Wilbur, my brother, went a bit insane a few months back, blew it all up with Technoblade’s help. Wil’s… well, he’s dead.” Tommy sounds indifferent about the death, much to your surprise.

You nod absentmindedly, setting your eyes on a slightly obscured poster that flaps in the wind. When you get close enough to pin it down it reads:

Wanted: Dead or Alive. High Treason, Inciting Violence, Unlawful Use of Explosives, Extreme Terrorism.

Reward: See Authorities

Below that is a well-painted picture of a man you somewhat recognize, wearing a red cape, a crown, full enchanted Netherite armor and carrying an axe that seems to shimmer in the light.

Technoblade. You’ve had a few run-ins with him playing Bedwars and Skywars, even teaming up with him a few times. He always seemed nice enough, and certainly a damn good sword fighter. He always knew when to run and when to stand and fight, when to attack and when to defend.

“What did he do?”

Ranboo starts to speak, but Tommy interrupts him.

“Blew the rest o’ this place up. Bastard ran after that.” Tommy all but spits the words out of his mouth, like they’re acid or venom. “Fookin’ coward.”

Well, I wouldn’t call ‘knowing when to run’ cowardice, but we’ll pretend I agree, child.

“No one knows where he is now,” Ranboo adds. “Except Phil, of course. But he’s pretty much silent about it. Won’t give up a word of information.”

Shouldn’t be that hard to find one man, you muse to yourself. Bet I could.

“Well, I’ll let you know if I find anything out,” you lie with a smile plastered on your lips. “Y’know, as a sort of gift to you as the newest member of the server.”

Hah, as if.

“We’ll hold you to that.”

You nod and say your goodbyes, walking towards the central nether portal while keeping an eye out for an ender chest so you can get some of your stuff. You know the admin will take your elytra away if it so much as comes into contact with the server’s air, so you decide not to risk it.

Spotting one, you make a small noise of triumph and dart over there, grabbing the shulker with your stuff in it, transferring it to your inventory with a practiced ease.

Armor adorns your figure, enchanted Netherite striking an imposing silhouette against the blackstone beneath your feet. You twirl your sword with a grin.

Now to find Technoblade.

——

Turns out, finding a piglin hybrid is not easy.

You scoured the Nether for any sign of him, any trace of fabric, of a broken pickaxe, hell even a piece of iron he may have held. The ability you hold as a Jumper not only allows you to jump servers, but also allows you to find people if you have something of theirs.

Nothing. Zip. Nada. Zilch. Zero. Nil. Absolutely jack shit.

How can one man be so difficult to track down?

Just as you’re about to give up, a barrage of curses at the tip of your tongue, a glint of iron catches your eye.

Odd.

Hopping over a cluster of Netherrack and scaring off a few baby Striders, you see a small circle of iron sitting in a pile of red dust, looking dented and beat up.

You huff and brush the dust off of it, titling your head to the side when it reveals itself.

A compass, pointing in one direction, working even in the Nether.

Standing up, you pocket it and head to the nearest portal, jumping through to the other side only to grab the compass out of your pocket as you walk to who-knows-where. It still points in the same direction as before, only moving when you do.

An irregularity in the metal against your hand inspires you to flip the compass over to look at the back.

What lies there makes you smirk.

Technoblade’s cabin. Phil’s compass.

This might be easier than you initially thought.

:)

#ura! #mcyt x you #mcyt x reader #technoblade x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #x reader #reader insert #Trampolinist: Series

[adhdeancas]

Hm, mommy issues anybody? Daddy issues anybody? Yeah. Let’s unpack that a little. Not a lot.

Dean runs his hand up the back of his head, feeling the soft spikes of his haircut. It was a stupid tic he’d picked up in his teens, it usually made girls melt. The sensitive guy, the nervous guy, the guy who’s eager to please. It made him look vulnerable. Girls liked that. He started catching himself on it and stopping when he got into his twenties. 

His phone buzzes. He looks at it quickly, ignoring the stupid clench in his heart that comes with the action.

One New System Update Available: Install Now?

He sighs and turns it off.

---

Long hours in the car are usually… uneventful. Full of all kinds of empty time that frankly? Dean likes. It’s a nice break from the constant weird noises of sketchy motel rooms with paper-thin walls, from the creaking pipes in the bunker. Mostly, it’s a break from thinking about whatever batshit depressing problems they have up their ass that week. 

But this time? The open road is endless, like a really shitty, really boring acid trip. A fucking infinity of his ankle cramping up on the side roads. And Sam always gives him the stink eye when he reaches for his phone, so he can’t even do that. He does make pit stops more often than usual, so he doesn’t crawl out of his own skin, and his glares keep Sam from mentioning it. Maybe he just thinks he’s got the shits. He’ll let him keep thinking that.

At least on the pot he can check his phone.

But time and time again, he lays down a loud paper cover that doesn’t do much to cover up the griminess of the seat and sits down, and unlocks his phone. He waits until he’s fully in the stall to do it, even though he could end the suspense the second he puts Baby in park. Maybe he knows what the answer is gonna be.

What the answer always is.

No New Messages. 

He sighs. Story of his life.

---

Sam snatches his phone next time it buzzes in the cup holder before Dean can even reach for it. Dean opens his mouth to gripe, but his stomach ties itself in a knot anyway. He doesn’t know whether he wants it to be… or whether he’s dreading it. 

“Who is it?” he tries to say it casually. It sounds forced to him, but Sam doesn’t notice. 

“Cas,” he’s got this dopey little smile on his face, and Dean feels his face heat up. For no goddamn reason, it’s not like-

“Why’re you- what’s up? Anything wrong?” Dean knows Sam would’ve said right away if something was wrong, but he wants his brother to spit it out already, and Sam looks like the cat that got the cream. That means he’s about to try to be funny. 

“Nah, nah.” Sam grins again, glancing away from the phone finally. 

“Well then put it down, Nosy, what the fuck,” He’s already seen the text, whatever it is, so it’s no use, but Dean bristles anyway. It’s not like Cas would’ve sent him anything actually embarrassing, right? What was the last thing they were talking about… the best roadside pancakes? Yeah, so, it couldn’t be anything weird. Well, it’s Cas, so it could always be something weird. But nothing incriminating. Hell, Sam’s accidentally opened a nude a girl sent him one time so it’s not like it could be worse than that. Not like Cas is sending him nudes. Dean cracks a grin at the thought of what a thirst trap would look like for Cas. Probably him in a, like, half unbuttoned button up laid out in a library chair. Maybe a book in hand. An angel blade. The weapon! Not-

“He just- he just wanted to update you on where he is in Gilligan’s Island.” There’s a laugh in Sam’s voice, and Dean wants to know why. Probably just the way Cas described it, he always finds this certain way of saying things that’s just… kinda endearing and kinda confusing.

“He’s watching without me? Son of a bitch!” 

Sam smirks. “Yeah, he and Jack. Jack finished Pirates of the Carribean and he wanted more island stuff.”

Dean shakes his head. “Motherfuckers…”

Sam rolls his eyes. “You want me to text him back for you?”

Dean rolls his shoulders out. “It’s fine, I’ll just do it at the next stop.”

They pull into the next gas station and Dean doesn’t look at his phone again until he’s hidden. 

---

Because Sam is a nosy bitch, he asks. Well that, and he’s really tired of the car ride taking twice as long with all the stops they’re making. Dean’s usually a ‘pee in a bottle and don’t pitch a fit’ kind of driver, himself included (Sam’s scarred for life at this point), but now? It’s like they’re traveling with a six year old kid, stopping every hour.

The third stop in Oklahoma alone, he stops Dean. “Okay, do we need to go to the hospital?”

Dean quirks his eyebrows and frowns. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He’s got a clue what they’re talking about.

Sam bitches with his whole face. “We’ve been stopping every four fucking feet for days now, so you’re either dying and we need to go to the ER and get an endoscopy, or-

“An endoscope who?”

Sam doesn’t take the bait. Shocker. “Dean.”

Dean rolls his eyes and tries to bypass him. Sam is smarter than he looks. They grab his phone. “Sammy!” This time the word’s annoyed, a warning. Like he used to say right before he really viciously wrestled Sam to the ground and pried the last cookie out of his delicate little hands when they were kids.

Unfortunately, Sam has a height and reach advantage. He holds the phone up and Dean doesn’t have a chance unless- Dean punches him in the stomach. Sam makes a winded noise but manages to keep his arm raised. He glares harder. “You’re gonna talk to me, or you’re not getting this back.”

God, they’re a bitch. “Fine, fuck you. I’ll shit the old fashioned way.” Dean saunters off to the horrifically artificial lights of the gas station, a middle finger waving back just for his little bro. 

 When he gets back, Sam’s looking much more compassionate. It’s worse. “Dean, why are you so obsessed with your phone? What’re you waiting on?”

Dean rolls his eyes and gets in his car, leaving Sam to follow him. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, dude, I’m just making sure I don’t miss any texts from Mom,” He jams the key into the ignition and steps on the gas. Sam’s door snaps the rest of the way shut with the sudden force and they yelp. “Oh, don’t be a drama queen.”

“You’re the dramatic one right now, Dean.” Sam raises his eyebrows, condescension dripping off his expression. “Did she say she’d text soon?”

“Nope.” Dean shrugs. “Just making sure. It’s kinda my fault she died and then came back to life in a world she didn’t understand; least I can do is pick up the damn phone.”

Sam sighs. “Dean, she’s not gonna freak out if you don’t answer right away. Unclench, man.”

“Unclench?” Dean’s hands tighten on the wheel. “Fuck off, Sam, I’m fine!”

There’s a tense silence. Dean finally starts to think he’s given up this stupid argument, but then Sam shifts in his seat. “She’s not Dad, Dean. She’s gonna come back.”

Dean bites the inside of his cheek. “Never said she was. And Dad always came back.”

“Dean-”

“Sam, just drop it, please-”

“I know how hard it is-” 

Dean’s harsh laugh cuts the car into silence again. Sam’s got that kicked puppy look on his face, Dean knows it, and he forces his shoulder to relax before talking. “Look, Sammy, I appreciate it and all but- you have no fucking clue what it’s like for your parent to just fucking… ignore you.”

“I grew up with Dad too, Dean. Hell, he lied to me until I was like 6, he ran out on both of us all the time; I never knew where he was, he never told me where he was going-”

“Yeah, well, he always picked up the phone for you, didn’t he?” Dean lets out a harsh breath and changes lanes just for something to do with his hands. 

“He’d stay out for weeks no matter how much I called-”

“Yeah, but he answered. He answered when you called, when you texted, to tell you when he’d be home or to tell you to fuck off and stop calling, but he’d answer.” Dean wipes at his eyebrow. He doesn’t care about this shit. He doesn’t fucking care. “Dad called me when he wanted to talk to me,” then Dean corrects himself “-when he wanted to tell me something. So excuse me… if I get a little antsy. But you- you don’t get it at all.” Dad and Mom, they both left him. Both ditched him as soon as they could and never looked back. Not until they needed him to hunt something. And he got it, he did. But just because he understood didn’t mean he wasn’t pissed. And just because he was pissed didn’t mean he didn’t want them to call. Expect them or hope them to text, just to check in. Something more than coordinates and a link to a news article. 

He wants someone to care about him. And fuck if that isn’t the saddest thing anybody’s ever heard. 

“Dean…” 

It’s been a full five minutes, and Dean’s been waiting for Sam to bring it back up again, to not let this stupid thing go. “What?” he says sullenly.

Sam holds the phone up so Dean can see the screen without taking his eyes totally off the road. It’s a video, and he sees Cas awkwardly holding the camera away from him, two heads of blonde hair behind him. Sam taps the play arrow. 

“Hello, Dean.” Jack waves behind him with his usual energy, and Cas looks incredibly fond. “I’m here with Jack and your mother-”

“Mary,” Mary corrects. She crosses her arms uncomfortably, but her expression is soft. 

“Mary.” Cas repeats. “I decided to invite her to come by before you and Sam got back- that is, if you’re still coming back today. Sam has been telling me that you’re not going as fast as usual, and while I do appreciate you finally gaining some self-preservation-”

Dean rolls his eyes at the smiling jab. 

“- I do hope you’ll get back tonight. Mary has requested we order pizza and chicken wings, and I got the kind you like- the Mango Habenero, but-”

“No promises they’ll be here tomorrow!” Mary calls out jokingly. Sam’s grinning behind the phone now. 

“Hurry home! I miss you!” Jack adds sincerely.

The camera turns back toward Cas fully for a moment, and he holds it way too close to his face. “Yes. I- We- just stay safe. And stop worrying. And iHop is superior to Waffle House.”

There’s a rustling noise and then the video cuts off. Sam is grinning smugly from the passenger seat. Dean raises his eyebrows. “So you’ve been updating Cas about me?”

Sam shrugs. “We snapchat.”

“You what?”

“I send him pictures of you when you’re looking really constipated.” Sam clarifies unhelpfully. “Cas and I like to think up reasons for why you’re mad this time- avocado toast, streaks on the windshield when you try to wipe it at the gas station, that one piece of hair that does the weird-”

“Okay, okay, I get it!” Dean snaps. “Wait, what about my hair?”

Sam laughs. “Just drive, Dean. For the wings.”

Dean frowns and pushes Baby faster. Well… now he doesn’t have to stop so much.

He makes Sam pee in a bottle next time he has to go.

#dean winchester #mary winchester #john winchester #sam winchester #implied destiel #castiel #jack kline #my writing #ficlet

[dancingthesambaa]

The Smell of Plum Blossom Tea Ch 16

Summary: Just like a butterfly wing, a single act of kindness can change the course of the future, it certainly did for MK as a black furred monkey put out a hand towards him.

Rating: Teen and up

Chapter 16: The Ex From Down Under

“Bye dad! I’m heading out!” MK called as he rushed to the table and quickly stuffed his bag with all his stuff that was lying around.

“See ya,” he poked his head out of the kitchen. “If you're coming back again, I’m making some Mapo Tofu for dinner tonight if you want to stop by.”

“The mouth searing one,” he questionly asked as he continued packing without even looking at what he was putting in.

“I’ll have a milder one on the side,” he chuckled as he watched his child's fist pump the air.

“I will totally be here.”

“Alrighty, and you can ask Wukong if he wants to come,” he nonchalantly said as he wiped his hands on his apron. He then noticed MK staring at him and he raised his eyebrow, “What? By the gods know when that dumbass ever had a good meal that wasn’t from his own hair.”

“Uh huh,” was all he said as he tightened his bag then he gave him a wide grin. “Well I’m off,” he ran up to his dad and gave him a big hug before leaping out of the window free falling before stepping on a branch and hopping from tree to tree.

“…I may have enabled his window hopping habits,” he mused to himself before shrugging his shoulders and walking off.

“Remember, don’t let your body tighten so much when you get into the swing, ease up before snapping, giving you more momentum,” Monkey King lectured as he demonstrated with a staff. It was always a bit of a struggle to teach his student new techniques when he already had a style in place. Macaque always leaned more towards the silent route with swift strikes and keeping the body low, while he kept more towards the louder method of quick feet and aiming high. Each monkey had incorporated their style to fit themselves and they have taught their own moves to the other just to get more variety and not to be so predictable. Once he had learned that Macaque had taught MK his own fighting style, it was much easier to incorporate his own style into his as well.

MK focuses as he did exactly that as he jumped up in the air and landed a hit on the training dummy high in the sky. “Yes!” He fistbumped the air, it had taken so long to actually complete that move, but he has finally done it!

“Nicely done kiddo,” he grinned and ruffled his hair. “Now how about we take a small break.”

“Sounds good to me!” He stretched out his limbs as he made his way to his bag. He paused as he quickly caught the water bottle thrown at his head, “Thanks!”

“No problem,” the monkey said as he sat down next to him. “So how has everything been? I heard you got into a gang turf war the other day.”

“By the gods,” MK groaned, “that had to be the stupidest fight I have ever seen and I’m friends with Mei! So here I am minding my own business and delivering some noodles to this random dude when all of a sudden gunshots ring out and the man begins to rave like an absolute lunatic.”

As Wukong listened to the story he couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering over to MK messy hair as he instinctively scooted over next to him and began to smooth out his hair.

“-then the leader on the opposing side decides to step in cause why not?! And declares that-,” he paused as he finally felt his mentor grooming his hair after he was ranting for ten minutes. “Uhhh?”

“Go on, I’m still listening,” he said as he continued to thread his fingers in his hair.

The teenager only blinked once before going with it, “And do you know what he declares? He declares that the bowl of noodles is actually for him and guess what?! Now we have both sides gearing up for a fight over a goddamn bowl of noodles!”

“Don’t swear,” he murmured then let out a soft purr as he untangled a particular spot.

“Dad says it’s fine as long as I don’t do it in front of kids.”

“…yeah that seems pretty like him.”

“Speaking of him, you're invited to dinner tonight if you want to come,” he said.

“Yes!” MK blinked at the immediate response, but then the Monkey King quickly settled down and casually said, “Yeah, that would be fine.”

“Coolio, I’ll text him,” he waited for him to release his hair before he got up, but it didn’t seem like it hit the monkey until he saw MK eyes staring at him.

“Oh right, I should probably let go,” he gave a forced chuckle.

“Don’t worry Dad is a lot worse,” he reassured him as he made his way to his bag, “he sometimes would take hours on grooming and wouldn’t release me until he had deemed it worthy.”

“Sounds nice,” the Sage muttered.

“To you, but I was so bored sometimes that I would fall asleep just to pass the time,” he said as he was about to grab his phone when he noticed a paper. “What is this?” He took it out and saw that it was a letter, but it wasn’t addressed to him, but rather all it said on the envelope was the phrase ‘My Love.’ “Well this is weird?”

“There’s a lot of things that are weird bud, but I think you need to be a little more specific,” he smiled at his student's confused look.

“Well I have a letter that I’m pretty sure isn’t mine,” he held out the mail.

“It looks like someone has an admirer,” he teased seeing the words.

“Noooo,” he softly whispered. He already had his experience with one crazy fangirl and it took both Mei and Red Son threatening the living hell out of her before she finally backed off. He really doesn’t want anything to do with that anytime soon. “It’s not for me.”

“Well open it and see whose it is for then.”

“Isn’t that like an invasion of property and technically a crime?”

“How else are you gonna know whose it for then?”

“…touché,” so he did exactly that and carefully opened the envelope and took out the paper that was just full of writing. He felt his stomach drop as he saw who it was for on the first line. “To my dear Macaque.”

“What,” Wukong's tone was dead flat as he processed what MK just said.

MK said nothing as he continued to read and the more he read the creepier it got.

To My Dear Macaque,

It’s been so long since I have seen you, I hope you have been receiving each and every one of my letters. If not, that’s okay. I'll keep saying this as many times as needed.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

I will forever say this even when you don’t believe out of connection anymore, for you have stolen my heart and doused it with the most burning of acids that the two of us have created. It burns like the hellfire consuming my soul, it stings like the little needles digging through each and every last one of my smallest injuries and gently tearing it apart. It hurts and it hurts and it hurts and you hurt me. You hurt me and left me to my despair after I have given all of my love to you and only to you. You left and walked away after denouncing our burning heart we made together.

You left it there and it’s still burning.

But I forgive you.

I forgive all that you had done to me because I know that deep down you still feel the same. But don’t worry, once I see you again I’ll show you that the two of us were meant to last far longer than even the stars. I’ll show you that we are meant to be together even if I have to drag you away by force and give you my medicine to show you that all we need is each other. You have tasted the sweet elixir before and you were more than agreeable once the potion had set in and shown my love for you.

But I’m sure it won’t have to come to that.

We will meet soon my love, until then, please take care.

From your heart, Shun

“Who the f- who is Shun,” the monkey let out a low growl as he finished reading the creepy ass letter. “And why does he know moonlight? And what is with the creepy letter?!”

“That’s Dad's creepy ex boyfriend!” He said in a panic as he began to pace around.

“His WHAT?!” He couldn’t stop the small burst of energy erupting from out of him as his eyes glowed a dark gold and the ground slightly cracked beneath his feet.

“This is bad. This is bad. This is so so so so BAD!” MK began to panic as he kept pacing around the area and gripping his hair. “So very bad! How long has this been happening? How long since he has been receiving his creepy letters?! It’s also ready bad enough he mentioned the potion, but now he’s implying he’s coming here?!”

“Kid, kid,” Wukong managed to wrangle down his enraged emotions (hello jealously how have you been) and moved towards his kid in an effort to calm him down. “MK, it’s okay, everything will be okay,” he said as he gently pried the stubborn fingers from his hair. “I’m sure he will be fine, this is Macaque we’re talking about here, and sure that no potion he could dish up could stop-”

“It’s a love potion,” he blurted out.

“That devil concoction,” he hissed out. But took a deep breath in and reluctantly pushed the rebranded slave poison to the side of his mind…for now. “Like I said, I’m sure he will be just fine.”

“Maybe I’m freaking out. I mean he’s probably not even here or anywhere near here. Maybe dad even told him off and he’s probably not even coming. Maybe I’m just blowing this whole thing out of proportion,” MK tried to reason out.

“There we go, now breathe with me.”

“I will I will…right after I call dad!” He immediately shot towards his phone and dumped almost everything before he found it. He quickly called his Dad's number and waited for the call to go through.

BZZZZ

BZZZZ

BZZZZ

BZZZZ

‘I’m not in right now, if you're calling for medical treatment or prescriptions then leave a voicemail. If you're anyone else, why? Just why?’

Beep

“He’s not answering! Time to panic!!”

The figure had just made it to the edge of the Plum Blossom Forest and out in the distance, he saw the tallest Plum tree he recognized.

“It’s been so long my love,” he lovingly whispered as he gave a few licks to his arm before quickly moving through the trees.

Happily ignoring the hisses and snarls close behind him as they all were not happy at the intruder.

Inside said home, a certain monkey's whole body twitched as he slammed his items in hand and began to match to the door.

“Fuck me, I thought his creepy ass wouldn’t be anywhere near here until next week, at least then MK would be back at Pigsy shop,” he hissed as he materialized a two sharp bladed tonfas in hand. “I had no appointments, all my stocks are good, all I literally wanted to do today was to make food, drink some tea, and enjoy a family dinner with Sunshine included but I guess not the fuck today! I guess it’s a good fucking thing I have the perfect target to direct my anger I suppose.”

He gave out another snarl that was amongst the long line to come as he dipped into the shadows once more and took off towards the intruder that every creature in the forest, whether it be animal, demon, or creature alike, no one liked the intruder roaming in their home.

He quickly ventured through the shadows, roaming from plant to tree, animal to grass, until he finally saw a ring tailed lemur with a soft smile upon his face as he paused and his eyes lit up

“It’s been so long my love,” he cooed as he tried to find the humming presence. He didn’t have time to dodge the blow coming from the front as blades sliced into him, but his smile didn’t falter as he took in the sight of his beloved. “You're still as beautiful as ever”

“And you're still as creepy as ever,” he snarled as let his tonfas glow brighter. “I thought I told you to fuck off and away.”

“It was a mere trifle the both of us had, words were said, but I forgive you,” he gently smiled.

“Ughh I really hate when you do that,” he grimaced at his former horrible choice of a partner. “I will give you one fucking chance, leave before I show you once more why you should have stayed gone.”

“I’m sorry, but I will show you with all of my heart and being just how much you truly need me,” Shun only needed to drag a foot back in preparations as a sense of eagerness thrummed deep within him. It’s been so long since he had physics contact with his love after all.

Macaque forced down the shudder as he once again disappeared into the shadows as soon as he sent some clones towards him to attack.

Some creatures of the forest were spectating as this whole fight went down, eager to watch the intruder fall, maybe if the Guardian is generous enough he’ll allow them to feast on what remains.

The forest was about to become a little more wild when first blood was spilled.

“What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?!” MK was clutching his phone as he attempted to call his Dad a few more times, but his heart picked up each time he didn’t answer.

“Kid,” he attempted to once more calm him down when he shot up.

“Yanyu! I should call Yanyu!” He quickly dialed her number and his legs began to shake in anticipation as the number rang.

BZZZ

BZZZ

BZZZ-

“What’s up short-”

“EMERGENCY!” He shouted out.

“GHA! What do you-”

“Big problem! Huge problem! So I was packing my bag cause I was in a rush to get to training and I was talking to Dad so I didn’t notice what I put in my bag. So I went for trainingandwhenbreakdtstartedIfounditinmybagandIcantbelievr-”

‘MK BREATHE’ it wasn’t just the bluenette, but two other voices that joined her.

“Mei, Red, what are you guys doing with Yan?” He questioned for a moment before shaking his head, “Wait, not important, there is a big problem!”

‘Well spit it out then,’ Red huffed.

‘I think he’s trying,’ he could hear Mei's amused voice in the background.

‘Both of you hush,’ Yanyu turned back to the phone, ‘Now what’s happening?’

“Shun contacted Dad. He's almost here and Dad won’t pick up his phone!”

‘WHAT!!!’ They all screamed with both Red and Yanyu being significantly higher as the adult continued, ‘What do you mean creepy fucker is coming?!’

“Fuck Fuck Fuck this is bad!’ He could hear the prince in the background slowly freaking out. ‘I thought his crazy ass wouldn’t come back!’

“Apparently he did!’ Mei yelled out.

“I don’t know!” MK hysterically said as he began to almost hyperventilate, but the Monkey King began to run his back.

“Okay everyone breathe,” he firmly told the centuries younger children on call. “You are forgetting, this is Macaque you’re talking about here, I’m sure he will be fine.”

“The Monkey King is listening to this?!” Red hissed as he accidentally showed weakness to one of his greatest enemies.

“I know he will kick his scrawny ass, but that doesn’t alleviate my fear of him getting poisoned again and being put under an eternal sleep to be used as a god damn porcelain doll again!” Yanyu shouted, bypassing the fact that she was talking to the Monkey King.

“Again!” Everyone bar Red shouted together.

‘Yeah! And you thought the love poison was bad, this is just fucked up! Now do you see why I’m freaking out!’

“Why do you think we don’t want uncle anywhere near him!” The Bull prince continued.

“Okay that’s it,” Wukong summoned his cloud, “Hop on, we’re heading over there. Even if he’s not there, it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“Thank you!” He leaped onto the cloud.

‘We'll meet up with you as fast as we can on Mei ride,’ Yanyu said with a rush to her voice as the trio quickly went to the motorbike which thankfully has a side seat.

“Okay,” MK muttered as he held onto the fluffy cloud.

‘Oh and Monkey King.’

“Yes?”

‘You better not fuck it up,’ she said with an ominous grin in her voice as she sat in the sidecar and Red held onto Mei as she quickly revved up her engines.

“…I’ve been hearing a lot of those lately.”

‘Good! See you real soon,’ she finished as he heard the motorcycle take off and the call ended.

“I guess we will,” he said to himself as they took off for the Plum Blossom Forest.

“I really hope Dad is okay,” MK muttered as he gripped tighter.

“He will be,” he firmly stated. ‘You better be okay mango,’ he privately thought. ‘Else I don’t think your kid would take it….fuck your better be alright else I will be kicking your ex boyfriend ass and making sure he knows the meaning of pain.’ He silently hissed out in his mind as he got the cloud to love even faster as it soared over the ocean.

“What is up with the forest right now,” Mei growled out as the group sprinted through the trees with Yanyu leading them.

“I don’t know, it has never done this before,” MK confusingly shouted out as they ran through. For some reason, when the two were about to go over the forest, the cloud suddenly dropped until it was underneath the treetops, making it near impossible to travel by cloud. Luckily they spotted the others a little ways behind them and grouped up together.

“It’s part of Mac magic,” the bluenette said as she paused at one tree before darting to the left.

“What do you mean?” Monkey King asked as he tried to locate Macaque's aura using his golden eyes, but all it showed was the entire area covered with a faint pulse of violet energy.

“So you know how he planted basically all the trees in the forest right,” she got affirmations from them as they continued. “Well in the process he put his own energy into the plants, because apparently he wanted to make sure they grew up okay. Thus making this whole forest basically under his control.”

“So that's why it felt familiar,” the Monkey muttered as he remembered back to the first time he saw the forest. “It also makes sense why my true sight isn’t working.

“That would be more awesome if we weren’t currently lost in this!” Mei said.

“I know the way, he showed me after the last time Shun showed up. This forest was on a complete lockdown and nothing was recognizable like now,” she emphasized the land around them. While it seemed that nothing at first glance changed at first, if you really looked then they would notice that each tree looked almost identical to each other. No distinguishing marks, no distorted branches, not even the groves held any difference.

Each and every tree that they saw were the exact same.

“Okay that is disturbing,” Red muttered.

“Like I said, his little magic is intertwined with the forest and even with some of the creatures living here. It was supposed to be made for protection for not only the creatures living here and to anyone who may accidentally wander in, but to keep out the intruder that seeks to harm. He taught me to seek out the odd spots and openings left open in case something like this happened again. Though I don’t think he literally meant this exact scenario,” she grumbled. “He’ll probably teach you guys this after this whole thing is over.”

“We’re getting closer,” Wukong stated.

“What makes you say that,” MK asked without taking his eyes off Yanyu's back.

“The animals running,” he pointed out several animals, birds, monkeys, and insects alike, all fleeing from the same direction.

“We’re getting close,” she said as they continued to run.

It was only twenty minutes later did Red speak as he tried to look ahead, “I’m not the only one who can hear the sounds of growls right?”

Everyone nodded their ahead and just up ahead they saw a rather large crowd of mythical beings, spirits, and demons alike all grouped together and waiting as they kept their eyes firmly on what’s ahead. They follow their gaze and can faintly see, just between gaps a bright violet glow followed by a form of black mass.

It was Macaque.

“Dad/Pops!” Mei and MK yelled out for him, but he didn’t react to them as he pushed back against something else.

Monkey King wasted no time in climbing up one of the trees to get a better view with MK and everyone else quickly following him. There they witness Macaque fighting against an agile lemur who seemed to be trying to throw himself at the monkey, but he keeps dodging out of the way in time.

“Fuck it is Shun,” Yanyu groaned as Red let out a soft “noooo.”

“So how do we go about this,” Mei questioned as she fingered her sword while she watched her pops dive back into the shadows only to get pulled right back out, “cause I say we go in swingin.”

“We will not be doing any of that,” Red hissed as he grabbed hold of Mei's collar, “We have to play this smart, while Shun is a certified psychopath, he is a very smart psychopath.”

“No kidding, it’s how the two of them got together in the first place,” the doctor muttered and smirked as she saw her former teacher trip up the lemur and slammed him to the ground, but that didn’t stop her from noticing a certain brown furred monkey twitch as she mentioned that.

“Okay, we are getting a full explanation on how even when this is all said and done,” Mei grumbled and settled back down on the branch. “So what do we do?”

“We just have to wait and see what happens,” the bluenette got comfortable, “I doubt he’ll need our help, but I rather not take chances.”

“Nice plan, nice plan, just one flaw with that,” both demon and human glanced at Mei. “Two certain monkeys didn’t get that memo.”

Both of them blinked, then dropped their heads and sighed.

“Of course they would, cause why not,” Yanyu uttered as she turned her attention back to the fight. At least she won’t have to worry too much about stepping in, not that she thinks she could stand a chance, with both Monkey King and Doc's son charging in.

“You know it would be so much easier for you if you just fuck off you know,” Macaque mocked as he flicked off the blood from his blades. “Maybe you’ll still have a working arm if you run fast enough.”

“Aww you worry my dear-,” he smiled as he didn’t even flinch at the blood dripping down his arm.

“Not in the slightest.”

“Don’t fret, it will soon be over, but I will admit that I am getting a bit agitated,” his voice echoed out, which didn’t seem to do much at first as many spectators cackled at his attempted intimidation.

But then a weird smell filled the air, it seemed to have always been there as they hadn't taken notice of it before, but it got stronger as it smelt remarkably of a flower. They couldn’t quite put what kind of flower it was before-

EYES EYES EYES SO MANY EYES

EVERYWHERE

NOWHERE

CANT HIDE

NOT FROM IT

WHAT IS IT

WHAT IS PREDATOR

WHAT IS PREY

WHO IS WHO

WHERE ARE WE

WHERE ARE WE RUNNING

WHERE WHERE

Many creatures fell victim to this as they froze in place and whimpered out as they barked their necks in hopes to quell the predator or maybe grant them a quick death.

It was imposing.

It was encompassing

It was frightening.

And this only made Macaque still for a moment of the sudden smell before he got his bearings back, but that was all Shun needed as he leaped towards him with arms and mouth open wide.

Here’s a fun fact that not many know about lemurs, while they are known for being quick on their feet and agile to escape predators, there is one species who have, through a long process of evolution, developed another way of warding off predators or capturing their prey.

It was a toxic bite.

Apparently a certain species called slow lorises poison is so deadly that it can kill humans with a single bite and guess which lemur has that lucky parent.

‘Finally,’ he thought to himself as he closed the distance between him and his love. ‘I have finally got you back with me. Don’t worry, with my new potion I’ll make sure this time we won’t part,’ he lovingly thought as he tasted the special mixture in his mouth. He should really send his carrier a fruit basket when his love is properly back with him, she was the one who taught him everything he needed to know about potion making. Without her expertise, then he would have never known how to make the love potion, after all that was how she managed to snag his sire to mate with her.

Everything would finally be perfect…except for one little detail.

Not every creature was affected by the smell.

Ní merely flicked her tails in annoyance as she calmly watched.

Shui Gui took a huge breath of the smell in and puffed it out after a few seconds to reveal a green miasma cloud.

Xianglu merely shook their heads as they tried to rid of the foul smell in their nose.

BaBa just hissed at the inferior attack before nestling down.

Even the Faeries were tittering away at the pathetic illusion the demon tried to submerge them in.

These creatures, deities, demons, are just some of the few with a long history backed by so much experience that the infant lemur cannot comprehend. It was quite amusing to think that such a being could even equate to their level, even their Guardian was merely humoring him, but quite funny nonetheless. Regardless though Shun did possess the quality to allude himself to being much scarier to those around him with his…disturbing methods that he tends to use and hides himself behind his illusion. Unfortunately for him, it’s quite easy to bypass with multiple tools in hand, either physically and mentally. But more often than not, there is one sure fire method that most people tend to turn to if they don’t know which is correct.

Determination.

Which embodied a young adult as he bashed his staff against the lemur head, and a Sage monkey who punched him so hard that he left a crater when he finally landed.

Both beings were very determined to at least brutally maim the creep by the time they were finished with him.

“DON’T TOUCH MY DAD!/MOON!” Both MK and Wukong respectively shouted as they stood in front of a sighing Macaque.

“You know I had this handled right?” He looked towards the both of them, not bothering them with the possessive form both monkeys said. Though the same couldn’t be said for Shun as he was still in his spot and didn’t know who to first turn his attention to until his eye settled on MK.

“You have a child,” he said wonder in his voice as his whole face lit up.

“I’m not liking that look,” MK muttered to Wukong who nodded.

“No, no, please don’t say-” Macaque practically begged him not to say what he was about to dread.

“We have a child.”

“Nooooo,” he whispered out as he wished he could just knock himself out after hearing those words then shook it off and said with a growl. “Not your child, my child. You are not part of this equation, you're not even a variable that was left out, you are nowhere near part of any of this.”

“But my love-”

“Not my/his love,” all three monkeys stated.

“Despite our brief separation, you know it has always been a dream of mine to have a child of our own. Remember the time we spent out in the town as we laid our eyes at a beautiful family,” he almost cooed at the child's awkward face. “Two parents and two children, a boy and a girl, they looked very lovely together.”

Macaque did remember what he was talking about, he remembered his eyes lingering on the family as they were in town on a date. He couldn’t stop his eyes from lingering on them as he let a small smile play on his lips as Shun shared that same sentiment and wrapped his arms tighter around him. It used to be comforting, that small embrace used to mean ‘he is here for him, he won’t let you go’, but now all it means now is ‘he will not let you go, no matter how much you beg.’ It has turned so very confining. But he kept his mouth shut and let his former boyfriend ramble, trying to look for another way not to get bitten from his ‘love bite.’

“It was pure bliss just the two of us, those small moments we shared to the nights laid up in our nest as you laid under me as I enraptured your mouth and slowly move-.”

‘Never mind!’ He quickly burst forward and sent a high knee to the underside of his jaw that was followed by a staff to the side of the neck and a claw to the stomach courtesy of both child and friend. ‘He is not about to go there!’

“I do not want to hear any of that!” MK shouted as he backed away from the lemur after his attack.

“That makes two of us,” Wukong lowly growled as only his self control was the only thing stopping him from ripping the bastard in front of him. And even that was by the hair as he learned that new little tidbit that he did not want to hear.

“I have been a bit curious,” Shun simply stood back up and looked towards the Monkey King, “Who are you to him?”

“I am the Monkey King, you may have heard of me,” he said as he stood up straight as his golden eyes flickered in his eyes.

“How quaint,” he merely said, “but you didn’t answer my question,” a tinge of aggression laced his voice. “Who are you to him?”

Now at this point Wukong self control was almost completely gone since the first time he heard about this creepy ass bastard (which he so needs to interrogate Mac on why the fuck he would even date someone like him) and it was not looking so good. So to hear this black and white knockoff of a two legged beetle that deserves its tongue to be torn out, implies that he was the outsider in all of this rather than the other way around. Well, he decided right then and there that this nasty little bug needed to learn a few things first before he became a rotting corpse for the rest to feast upon.

“Wukong don’t you dare,” Macaque saw that look in his eyes.

“I was his friend long before you ever thought of,” he taunted and wrapped his arm around Mac's shoulder. “I have known him longer than even the mountains have formed and before towns became cities. He knows me longer than some of the forest was ever formed and before kingdoms have reached their destruction. We know each other very thoroughly, both inside and out, and seen the other at our best of times and our worst of times. It feels like eons have passed since then, but when it comes down to it you can say the two of us are made up of the same soul.” He finished his dramatic speech with a nuzzle to his black fur as he gave a soft kiss on his head. He opened one golden eye and grinned mockingly as he said, “So how long have you known him?”

Silence filled the air as they all locked eyes on a stiff Shun who didn’t even move an inch since Wukong started it. But what they could see was the underlying darkness in his eyes as he slowly blinked. Then he smiled, teeth bared and all, as he stated. “It will be a great joy when I tear out your throat and rip that nasty little tongue right out of your mouth and force you to watch as I consume it.”

“Try me,” he said with teeth bared.

Both Lemur and Monkey locked eyes with each other as you can almost see lighting shoot out of their eyes from the sheer animosity the two had with each other despite not even knowing the other for ten minutes.

The black furred monkey muttered, “And they said I’m the dramatic one,” to whom he was referring. It may never be known as Wukong and Shun leaped at each other at the same time. Macaque just groaned and decided to walk over to his son instead of the fight that was happening. “So, you met Shun.”

“I hate him,” MK instantly said as he got closer to his Dad. “I really hate him.”

“You and me both starlight, so why are you here anyways? Aren’t you supposed to be training right now?”

“So this morning I may have accidentally grabbed the letter while I was stuffing everything into my bag,” he said as he cheered when his mentor used his tail to choke the lemur while he had his arms pinned.

“Damn it, I thought I trashed them all. Must have been one that just came in,” he grimaced.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you?”

“That your creepy ex was back,” MK said with a twinge of irritation in his voice. “I could have helped.”

“Nice thought comet, but I had it handled,” he smirked as he watched Shun attempt to break Wukong's arm only to get a vicious claw to the face. “This isn’t my first time dealing with his creepy ass.”

“But I could have helped,” he almost whined, “Mei has tons of ideas for retribution and I got a very powerful stick that tends to hurt…a lot.”

“And I believe that, but I got it,” he ruffled his kid hair, “but thank you for looking out for little ol me even when I don’t need it.”

“Like how the Monkey King is doing right now.”

“He’s just an impulsive idiot right now,” he grinned sharply as he watched Shun stagger in place from his wound as Wukong taunted him as his hand dripped red. He is not totally blind to see that his friend has a protective streak wider than the Earth when it comes to people he cares for. He has certainly seen it when his leg was broken by an uppity pack of Tiger demons. Needless to say, when the Wukong got back and saw him lying there and surrounded by demons, well let’s just say that the food was pretty good that day and even had some warm blankets to go alongside with it.

So to see that this still applies for him despite their long separation, he couldn’t stop that warm burst of feeling brew from inside of him.

Wukong, on the other hand, was feeling the blood pump in his ears with each hit he landed on the bastard. And while he unfortunately can’t go full Sage mode on his ass (the forest probably won’t be able to stand if he did and he actually likes this haven his mate had created) he is still enjoying kicking this disgusting little lemur ass.

“Bet you really feeling it now,” he taunted as he broke another rib. “Can ya feel it? Each little bone in your body breaking? It must fucking suck!” He viciously laughed, “But that’s what you get when you don’t fuck off when someone tells you no, especially Moonbright.”

“Stop calling him that,” the lemur growled for the first time.

“Oh what Moonbright,” he received another growl in return. “Or maybe Mango? Moon? Moonlight? My heart?”

“YES!” He hissed out as he recklessly leaped towards the monkey.

“Nah, can’t do that,” he smirked as he grabbed the lemur arm and tossed him back towards the growing crater. Then he let a wicked smile show on his face, “I mean, he is my other half,” he emphasized. Was he making this worse? Yes, yes he was. Does he care in the slightest? No he does fucking not. He’s been wanting to let loose some of those words out for quite some time, albeit it’s under an illusion that he’s just riling him up, but damn does it feel good to say.

Before the lemur could leap back up a charge at him once more another force came into play.

“Having fun without me!” Shun felt a pain burst from his back as he saw a pig tailed girl leaped off of him with blood dripping from her sword. “That is a damn shame.”

“I had this handled you know,” Monkey King petulantly said.

“Oh I know,” she slings her sword over her shoulder, “but I really wanted to land a hit on this bastard at least once for what he did to Pops.”

“Fair enough.”

“Another child!” He said with glee despite his broken bones and blood dripping down his face.

“He is seriously messed up in the head,” she muttered as she couldn’t help but step back at his gaze though she did raise a brow as Wukong stepped beside her while he kept his eyes on the lemur.

“Okay fuck this, I’m ending it,” Macaque huffed as he stepped forward.

“Actually Dad, can I do this,” he paused at his son's words as his eyes were locked firmly onto the agitated lemur.

“MK, I’m not about to let you-” he was cut off.

“Please,” he pleaded as his brown eyes flickered to violet ones.

“…fine, but if things are looking bad then I will step the fuck in,” he huffed as he subtly sent some more shadow clones in the foliage of trees and amongst his son's shadow.

“Oh don’t worry,” he began to spin his staff as he walked forward. “I won’t even need to leave your line of sight when I get done with him.”

MK continued forward as he neared the lemur, passing by both Mei and Wukong who gave him a glance.

“I’m ending this,” he simply said.

“You need help?” The dragon's successor looked to her brother.

“Nope,” said the doctor's son.

“Well holler if you do.”

“Always happy to lend a hand,” the Monkey Sage joked as he wiped off his own bloody hand. He wouldn’t mind another round of beating to the lemur…maybe a couple more just to be fair.

“Oh trust me, I won’t,” he darkly chuckled, which surprised the other two.

MK was done with Shun, he was already creeped out before he met him, disgusted by the letter, nauseated when he first saw him, and down right pissed when he heard him speak to his Dad like that.

It was time for his Dad to be protected for once instead of the other way around. Shun is gonna regret ever breathing by the time they're done with him.

Shun's eyes lit up when he saw MK approach. “It so good to see you for the first ti-”

“Shut the fuck up,” he cut him off.

“Wha-”

“I said shut the fuck up.”

“…excuse me?”

“You're not excused,” he shrugged his shoulder.

“That is no way to talk to your parent-” he was interrupted once more.

“Well it’s a good thing that you aren’t then isn’t it, I mean if you were then I would willingly go back to my deadbeat sperm donors than you,” he mocked him.

“I’m sorry what?!” Wukong was already taken by surprise by his student's sudden shift in attitude, let alone this new heaping pile of info.

“That’s a whole nother story for later,” Mac patted his shoulder.

“But here’s what’s gonna happen, you will either die in this forest or flee from here by the skin of your teeth,” he bluntly stated.

“Oh? And what makes you say that?” He let some amusement drip in his voice.

“Have you not seen the entities that live in this forest?”

“Indeed I have and they are truly a magnificent feature, but they are no match for me,” he arrogantly said.

“…hey Red! I thought you said he was smart?” He yelled out to the tree he had previously jumped from.

“Smart as in he knows some pretty advanced science that even leaves me confused,” the Bull prince said as sat down on the branch next to an anticipating bluenette.

“Oh, well that makes sense, cause if you were really smart then you wouldn’t have even stepped foot in this forest with the intent to kill, even Ever is dangerous despite his looks,” he concluded. Ignoring the faint chuckle from the trees.

“What is that supposed to mean?” He got increasingly agitated at the despairing remark upon his intelligence.

“It means that you have an overinflated ego stuff in between your ears that replaced your brain a long time ago.”

“Meaning?”

“If you had any brain cells then you would have known that you signed your name personally upon Yama book when you stepped foot in this forest, cause let me tell you.” It was at this point that the pressure began to dip as Shun suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe as the trees seemed to loom above him and glowing eyes were gazing upon him from the shadows. “You would have known that we don’t take kindly to people trying to harm our own, especially Dad.”

One by one, the demon, creatures, mythical and animals alike all began to emerge from the shadows with a nasty snarl fresh on their faces.

The Faeries' smiles were sharp with their fanged teeth wide with glee.

Qianglu slithered forward as they let out a terrifying hiss that thrummed in his ears.

The Monkey tribe all had their teeth bared in face of the intruder.

The Shui Gui was grinning happily as he licked his lips in anticipation.

Ní elegantly walked forward as her tails flickered behind her, but her hazel eyes only had sight for the prey.

Even amongst the trees BaBa, much too large to entirely fit in the clearing, kept her bright yellow eye, larger than all the beings in the area itself, gazed upon the scene.

As more and more beasts gathered around, for the first time in a long while, Shun felt fear.

“Welcome to the neighborhood,” MK casually slung the staff over his shoulder as he gave him a parting wave, “Let us show you how we handle intruders.”

Shun ran and ran and ran as fast and as hard as he could. But they followed.

And then he slowly vanished back into the woods as all the creatures that he thought were prey were the predators chasing after him. He really did forget that not creatures show who they truly are at first look, they like to pretend their fickle little insects that scatter at first sight of danger. But if you take a peek beneath the shell then it turns out that there are monsters lurking underneath with their jaws wide awaiting their first morsel.

So, he didn’t leave with a grand finale nor his deserved epic fight to the death. No, he simply blew out like a candle amongst a sea of lights cause in the end he knew what he really was.

Not the feared predator.

No, he was the prey and it was his turn to be feasted upon the monsters.

“Well that was easy,” Yanyu said as she jumped down from the tree.

“You're telling me,” said Red as he followed, then he turned to MK, “Who is Ever anyways?”

MK snapped out of his former personality shift as his cheeks blushed, “It’s Shui Gui, you know, Kappa.”

“Right, right, but what does it stand for?” He pushed, “cause you wouldn’t be blushing like that if there wasn’t something else.”

Mei turned her head to hide her smile.

“It..it stands for Whatever,” he whispered, but Wukong still heard that perfectly clear.

“His name is Whatever?” He confusedly asked for such a strange name.

“I was like seven! You can’t blame me!” He defended himself with arms crossed.

“Huh?”

“Ah the Shui Gui cares not for names,” Red nodded, “so he usually will respond to any. My question is why did you call him whatever out of everything?”

Yanyu snorted loudly.

“I was a kid and I was getting really frustrated with him that I blurted out the first thing in mind! How was I supposed to know that he would actually respond to it! Now he won’t let it go!” He threw his hands up.

At this point both girls are full on laughing at MK's frustration.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” the prince nodded at his various times meeting Kappa. He was indeed the strangest creature in the forest.

“I’m lost,” Wukong deadpanned.

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell you later,” Mac said as he leaned into the simian. It felt good finally having that bastard out of sight once again.

Wukong did the same as he wrapped his arms back around the other monkey, pulled him a bit closer, and wrapped his tail firmly around the other waist. “You better,” he faintly purred in his ears.

Macaque could barely stop the shiver at the lips so close to his face, but he managed to make it off by just shifting his body to get into a comfortable position.

Though that didn’t stop the Sage from gazing at him as he looked at his long fur once more and just when he was about to open his mouth.

BOOM!

“Alright! Whose ass am I kicking!” Daiyu screeched out as she scanned the scene for the ex boyfriend from hell. They had gotten a call from Yanyu earlier about his ass potentially showing up and they booked it there.

“God fucking Damnit,” Wukong cursed as he reluctantly move slightly away.

“He appears to not be here, Dai,” said Ahmed as he walked into the clearing with Minsheng and Bohai.

“Seemed he had left the coop,” chuckled Sheng as they looked towards everyone, “gave him a good ass kicking I'm guessing.”

“That and he is now currently running from almost every beast in the forest,” MK happily said.

Bohai gave a low whistle, “So he’s not leaving this forest alive then.”

“Nope,” came the response from all.

“That’s what he gets for messing with the King of the Forest,” Mei jokes, earning a groan from Mac.

“Don’t you even start on that.”

“What do you mean your royal highness,” the rabbit cheekily said.

“Don’t!”

“Is there something wrong your majesty,” the vulture said.

“Are you actually-”

“Did we speak out of your magnificence,” Yanyu mockingly bowed.

“Out of place your grace,” Mei courtesy with a sly grin.

“Out of turn your excellency,” MK did something with his hands as he bowed low.

“I swear-”

“Guys let’s all calm down before we get on our imperial majesty's last nerve,” Red casually said.

“Thank you-I swear to all things!”

“Our deepest of apologies your kingliness,” Wukong teased as he pressed closer to him.

“I expected nothing less from you,” he barked at him.

“Alright let’s all settle down,” Ahmed chuckled, “we don’t want to get his reverence too worked up.”

“…fuck it, I’m done for the day!” He threw his hands up and began to march back home. “If any of you guys want food then your ass better be helping me do some shit. It either helps me in the kitchen or checks on the state of the forest, more specifically how everything and everyone is holding up. Preferably the ones going are the ones that don’t mind fighting cause there’s gonna be a lot of those bastards still on edge and need to let loose some steam.”

“Yes, dinner sounds great right about now,” Daiyu said as she spread her wings and took off.

“Count me in!” Minsheng said as they began to hop into the forest.

“Same!” Mei yelled as she raced after them.

“Let me just check in on my gremlins and I will for sure help you out in the kitchen,” Yanyu replied as she took out her phone.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing what else lives in this forest,” Wukong said as he stretched his arms.

“I’ll help you Dad,” MK said as Ahmed followed close behind.

Red Son stood there as the other began to walk away with a bit of uncertainty before Macaque called back to him.

“Are you coming or not?”

“Wait me too?” Red said with some hesitation.

“If I’m letting those lunatics join in then why not,” he raised his brow.

Red gave a slight smile as he caught up and walked beside MK, “What are we making?”

“Mapo Tofu,” said the young adult.

“Will there be any spicy?”

“He has a whole tray filled with them,” MK can almost taste it.

“Yes!”

Also a shout out to Pen-Woman for the lovely idea of Protective kiddos!!

Also longest chapter yet!!! Just over 8000 words!!!

#lego monkie kid #six eared macaque #macaque #mk #lmk mei #monkey king #PlumTeaAU

[discrunkled-twog]

Chapter 16

Tags: Angst, Humor, Angst And Humor, Attempt At Humor, humor TO angst hehehe, Very Much Angst, ohhh nooooo this fic is wrapping up soon i'm scaredddddd, Coffee, Coffee Shop AU

Rating: Look at me, writing bad words for realistic dialogue! I'm such a big girl! *implodes*

Chapter Summary: Hi-jinks and Shenanigans, because Sorkid. I laughed very hard while writing this, and also the ending is sad because I'm a masochist.

@s0urmania EEEEEEEE Chapter for you! Sorry for the delay, I have multiple writing projects going on, gah... Hope you enjoy! :)

“Stick ‘em up! Give me all your money!”

A bit of what a stereotypical bandit would say, but whatever, I guess… First, I’m here waiting for hours, and now this guy…? Some plotline and hidden exposition, huh?

(Shhh…)

Sorkid was at the counter, on a quiet afternoon– or at least, previously quiet until some rando in a ski mask decided to disturb the peace, or boring waiting, depending on how you worded it, and now he was pointing a water gun at Sorkid, with a burlap sack in his hand.

“Ey’, rabbit dude, didn’t you hear me?!”

Damn it, how’d he know water guns are the common enemy of rabbits everywhere…?

“Excuse me?” they said, sticking their hands up, though bobbing their head around.

“What the-”

“Rabbit dude? Do I look or sound like a guy to you…?”

The bandit tilted his head forward in confusion, gripping the water gun tighter.

“You’re not a guy? Alright then, rabbit dudette-”

“Dudette…?!”

…

“Eh?”

“How rude of you! I can’t believe you’d speak that way to a gentleman!”

“Gentleman? What the he-”

“That is no way to treat a lady, sir,” they said, feigning offense.

“Lady?! Look, you… Little alien rabbit person, just-”

“Such crude, impersonal terms! I thought we were friends, Marco!” they yelled, bringing their hands to their face and pretending to cry.

“Marco?! I don’t even know you, now get the goddamn money out of the counter or I’ll-”

“Hey, why are you wearing a nametag? I thought the whole point of the mask was secrecy…?” they asked, already recovered from their crying fit.

The bandit chuckled, teetering at the very edge of his sanity.

“L-Look, you need to-”

And then Sorkid snapped his fingers.

He dropped the water gun, a bit of the water splashing on the floor, startling the both of them.

“Did it not work, or-”

“What the fuck did you do to my hand?!” he yelled, and…

Oh.

His hand was phasing out, transparent and slowly disappearing, which was what the rest of him was supposed to do.

“Fucking christ! It feels like you’re dipping it in acid, what the hell?”

Sorkid whistled.

“Ah, sorry. It works a lot faster on little things. Y’know, like spoo-”

“I don’t give a shit, fix it!”

“That’s not how it works, buddy-”

He continued to spew profanities as his left arm faded away, and it seemed that Sorkid’s abilities were getting to work on the right one.

“-Once you start it, you can’t stop it,” he said, chuckling nervously. “But y’know, look on the bright side!”

His death glare was dampened by the fact that he was missing half his torso.

“I got to use this on you instead of someone else, and since you are scum of the Earth-”

He screamed.

“-It’s not as bad if you die-”

“DIE?!”

“Well, maybe not, I don’t actually know- See? This is why I'm glad I tried it on you before… Oh, I don’t know… My brother, or my dad. Y’know, someone who I wouldn’t want to dissolve all Thanos-style?”

He screamed again, fainter this time.

“And now you’ve learned to stop trying to rob cafes owned by chaotic-good leaning magical rabbit alien creatures!” he exclaimed, spreading his hands out. “That way, if you live-”

“Oh fuuuuuck…” he sobbed.

“-You won’t make the same mistake! A learning experience, so take advantage of it!” he said, smiling and crossing his arms in self-satisfaction.

“Nooooooooooooooooo…” he trailed off as the rest of him disappeared.

Sorkid waved goodbye.

He sighed and grabbed the mop to clean up the water.

“That at least went better than the last time…” he muttered under his breath.

He picked up the water gun and shook the last of the water out of it.

This might be useful later.

He looked up at the clock; it read 4:20.

Oh. Right…

It had been a few days of an empty cafe. Usually, this was nothing strange or unusual, since most days, the cafe was empty.

(For some strange, unknown reason, nothing happened on those days. Maybe a bit of work getting done, or an event nearing, but he’d gotten used to the haze that was The Unmentioned Exposition Days.)

But after the last discovery he’d made…

Why do days feel longer now? I miss the exposition days…

The flowers were still stuck upright in a vase, with the exception of the one used for the hasty exposition in the last chapter. Surprisingly, they remained intact, never fading or falling, though he’d expected them to brown, at the very least.

Which only disturbed him more.

What is she even doing? Is that why she was late all those days?

********************

Is it safe for my mental health to listen to this song for the umpteenth time…?

disgruntled_twig looked down at the laptop, seeing the repeat button screaming at her. She knew she never would explore Los Retros and the rest of their songs, but she told herself that she would, and that was enough at the moment.

I’m glad this song isn’t super singable, because then I’d die right here trying to play it on the stupid ukulele, she thought, pressing the repeat button and turning the volume up.

Normally, she hated sad music, due to the spiraling depression it onset, even if only for about ten minutes, but this one song seemed to be the exception, since instead of crying, she only almost cried. Definitely an improvement.

Especially with headphones.

Ah, the nostalgia… The feels… The lonely wallowing in agony for no reason whatsoever– get back in there, tear– because I’m a masochist. Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiice.

Back in bed… It’s 3 am… With no one at my siiiiiide…

She sighed and folded her hands over her stomach, closing her eyes and letting the music go on, mentally grasping each word as it played.

You have to go back at least once, y’know.

…

She knew one of the times was supposed to be the dreaded Very Last Time, but she didn’t expect it to be so soon.

(Really, it’d been over a month, but it never felt like it lasted.)

Because maybe if I stop, it’ll get better.

She knew she was lying to herself, and it was at best, wishful thinking. At least she’d fallen in love, she guessed…?

Tomorrow. That way, I’ll at least be a little mentally prepared.

But for the time being, she decided to keep the song on repeat.

A/N: This fic is finishing too fast and I don't like it. Also, no, I did not forget about the Saikechi oneshot, hold on peoples. This scene had been living in my head rent free for about three weeks now, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to write it! I'm going to give people whiplash with that humor to angst transition, aren't I...?

Oh well...

Thank you for reading! :D

#distopia #distopia otp #try and guess what I listened to while writing this. #just GUESS. #smh #disgruntled twig x sourtapioca fanfic oh yeah #sor-chan #my writing #my fic #fic writing #uhhhh i think that's all the tags... #the formatting for these is surprisingly fun #wow i cant spell thanks spellcheck

[sadlonelyyogurt]

A Very Long, Probably Boring Rant About Episode 12

I need to rant about the last episode or my brain will catch on fire.

First of all, I am a fucking clown. I was holding out hope for Renga to be canon. Like, explicitly. But mostly I blame myself for that one because I am an optimistic idiot, and besides Langa pretty much said Reki was his happiness which... well it doesn’t get much gayer than that. My dude is and has been in love. And Reki dreamed about marrying Langa. So these two dumbass twinks just need to confess at this point. 

Second of all, I’m kinda glad Adam realized that his way of thinking sucked. I still think he should have gone to jail and all, but if you think about it, realizing he was wrong is better than just continuing to believe in all the bad shit he did before. Still, he’s an abusive bastard pedophile. (And, um, Tadashi? My dude?? Your kinks are showing. And they concern me.)

And can we talk about Kiriko??????! Like, girl came in here and was being all badass and awesome and like she was gonna take Adam down and then? Nothing? She was just transferred and left and uhhhh they wasted that entire plotline. Like it feels like she was there just for extra drama and a token female character. And I would like to say one thing, which is that she is a lesbian and that’s unrelated but I want her to be a lesbian so she is.

As for our other four members of the sk8 family, Joe and Cherry are fucking, change my mind (you can’t), Miya... either got fun of or made a friend but he was smiling so I’m gonna say he made a friend. Also it just helps my sanity. And then Shadow omfg.... I’m fucking crying. Poor dude. We were robbed, I was so rooting for him (although, Shadow totally gave the flowers to Oka so like?? Are my crazy punk boy and helpful dilf gonna... catch some feelings???? Honestly the gays win everything in this show).

Now, as for the whole race (This rant is completely not chronological but fuck it idc). Tbh, I didn’t care about the race between Adam and Langa. Like sure, I get that it’s important to the plot or something, but did it really need to take up over half the episode? No. Do I wish Langa wasn’t for some reason a superhuman and lost to Joe like three episodes ago and that Tadashi raced and won against Adam instead? Yes. But it is what it is. I suppose. So I’ll talk about it.

Adam really went all out with the death get up. Idk why he seemed to want to murder a minor, but idk why Adam does a lot of things so I guess I won’t question it. 

Something I’m convinced of is that Adam and Langa were tripping on acid that whole race. Like, the whole “zone” thing just seemed like a drug trip. And Langa saw his dead dad??? Which, don’t get me wrong, was sweet and precious and all, but goddamn Langa what are you on?

When Langa helped Adam up part of me was like nooooo don’t touch the pedo, don’t help the pedo, but tbh Langa is so pure and sweet it was totally in character and I love him so much.

And then at end when Langa literally jumped into Reki’s arms omg they are the actual cutest idc they’re canon, I’ve decided they’re canon. It’s just true.

One thing I do wish is that the episode focused less on the race and focused more and tying up loose ends. There was the song at the end with the whole montage (which, why did Adam have to show up? Bitch crashed that party and not in a good way) and it was cute (especially with Reki teaching his sister’s skateboarding omfg. precious. Koyomi u go queen). But Reki never apologized to Miya, which I’m mad about. Plus, I was kinda also holding out hope that ‘S’ would go away since it’s so fucking toxic and insane but ig not. 

What I really think is that the show could have used one more episode. (Or a second season?? fingers crossed. Kiriko better come back and Renga better be canon, those are my conditions). One problem I do have with this show is that, while there was a fair amount of character development, in the end everything pretty much looks like how it did at the beginning. Adam is still running ‘S’ and Tadashi is still getting abused by him, Cherry and Joe are still “frenemies”, Miya has no friends except Reki and Langa, Renga are just best friends, Kiriko is gone, Adam is still running his company.....,,, like, in the end, what really changed besides some of the characters attitudes toward life?

Anyway, I think that’s pretty much everything. All in all, this was a solid show that I really enjoyed, though there were some very interesting, dare I say questionable, decisions made by the writers. Still, love this show. The ending gives great fanwork potential, and that is enough to ask of it I suppose.

(Second season, though? Studio bones, please. I would be forever in your debt.)

#SK8 the Infinity #sk8 the infinity spoilers #Renga #matchablossom #Reki Kyan #Langa Hasegawa #miya chinen #sk8 joe #cherry blossom #sk8 adam #Tadashi Kikuchi #sk8 kiriko

[adragonhoardingstories]

Of Blood and Bonds - Chapter 1

@mystery-5-5

@abrx2002 @clumsy-owl-4178 @daminett4life @zalladane

@heaven428 @unmaskedagain

@dawnwave16 @virgil-is-a-cutie

@kris-pines04 @hypnosharkrebeldreamer

@weird-pale-blonde-person

@ravennightingaleandavatempus

@persephonebutkore

@be-happy-every-day-please @blue-peach14 @annabellabrookes

I hope I got everyone in the tag! I know I said this was gonna be fluff but it's also going to be angst. Sorry not sorry.

On that note, this book will contain swearing, mentions of rape and torture. I will try not be explicit but that's really relative. Read at your own risk. There will be warning before if I make a explicit scene so that you can skip it.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy and don't hunt me down for this.

___________________________________

Marinette had punched Bruce Wayne. 

Marinette had punched Bruce Wayne, Prince of Gotham, in Wayne Enterprises Tower in Gotham City and she was probably going to get kicked out because of this but it was so worth it. 

"Marinette honey," He said cautiously, "I'm sure I deserve it but why?"

She clenched her jaw and took a few deep breaths as she opened and closed her fists. She was trying really hard not to punch him again. 

You won't be able to get a second shot in without the boys intervening. She told herself, eying the way the boys - her brothers, she reminded herself stood, ready to pounce on her at any instant.

She had no doubt that the only reason she wasn't being restrained yet was because they were too shocked to react. 

"I don't think I asked for much Dad." She practically snarled the words out. "I just asked for a few phone calls and yet-" Her voice was shaking. "Yet, I haven't heard from you in over three years."

"Mari I can expl-"

"No, no, you don't fucking have that right to anymore. I did not come to Gotham to ask an explanation or beg for your attention. This was an unfortunate coincidence. I would have been perfectly happy to never see or hear from you again."

She turned to leave but Bruce grabbed her shoulder. She froze. This was Bruce Wayne, She had to remind herself, This was her father. He would not harm her. 

"I needed you Bruce. I needed you and you were not there." She shrugged off his hand from her shoulder and left in the direction of her class. 

Dick wordlessly moved out of her way and she tried not to think about the fact that she may have lost her chance to have a relationship with her siblings. 

~

Dick didn't know the whole story. Hell, before today Dick hadn't known that he had another sibling. He hadn't known that Bruce had another biological child. 

At least, he guessed that she was his biological child but he couldn't be sure because, once again, Bruce hadn't told them.

He watched the man. As always, he had an incredible poker face but he knew him better, he knew him enough to see the emotions waring among themselves behind his eyes. 

"You messed up big time B." He said quietly. "You know that, don't you?"

His father said nothing, instead he pushed past him and Damian to go after Marinette. He and his little brother had only to share a look before they took off after him, if only to stop him from doing something rash that he would regret and and that would probably damage their chance to know their sister better. 

Damian, Tim, Jason and he himself already had had the chance to talk to her. They could all collectively agree that they already loved her, even Damian, and they had no doubt the others would too.

Dick saw Marinette head towards the washroom. It was clear that she needed a moment alone, just like it was clear that that Bruce intended to wait for her to come out to be able to talk to her again. 

He disagreed. 

"B-"

"I need to talk to her."

"I know." He soothed despite wanting nothing more than to yell at the man. Sometimes, Bruce understood less than Damian. "But she won't like it and you've already pissed her off enough. Why don't we go to the cafeteria? The rest of her class is there. We can wait for her there, once she had some time to calm down."

Dick could see that he was about to protest. "Damian will wait for her and accompany her back." He said, sparing a glance at the youngest who gave him a nod back in return. "She'll be fine. Come on." 

He tugged Bruce along with him and the fact that he didn't argue and let himself be pulled along was a testament to how much he was upset by this whole thing. 

Dick was angry, he wanted nothing more than to scream at Bruce because didn't he know better than to keep secrets like this from them at this point?

~

Bruce knew he was a coward and definitely not the father one would wish for, but if Marinette really had given up on him, she wouldn't have been so angry. 

There was something he was missing.

"-your stupidity aside, she was found bound and gagged with clear signs of having been assaulted. She was tested positive for rape for God's sake. What more do you need to leave her alone?" 

There seemed to be an argument going on in the cafeteria. While that was alarming enough, the blond girl's words gave him a very bad feeling. 

"Oh, please." A sausage-haired girl rolled her eyes. "She was probably there willingly. No one would get through such  traumatic event and be back to normal so soon after. Not even her parents believed her. "

"Normal? Are you serious right now? I was there when they found her. I was there when she screamed at the sight of anyone with blonde hair or green eyes. And you've all seen how after that, she hates being touched."

"She's just over-reacti-" Sausage-hair stopped in the middle of her sentence, staring at something in his direction. 

"Oh no, please do continue to speak so openly about the worst month of my life." He couldn't help the flinch when he heard his daughter's voice as she walked past him... because that meant that Marinette, sweet precious Marinette - his sunshine had been kidnapped and assaulted for a month and if the other girl was to be believed neither Tom or Sabine believed in her. 

The sausage girl scoffed but backed down. Her reaction meant that she was at least a little guilty. He filed that information for later. She muttered a 'Whatever.' and walked away. 

"Marin-" the blonde haired girl who was defending his daughter spoke up but Marinette cut her off. 

"I do appreciate you trying to defend me Chloe but I'd appreciate it better if you didn't speak of it at all."

The girl - Chloe, gave a nod in acceptance. "Go on ahead," Marinette said, from beside him. "I'll catch up." 

The blonde eyed them for a moment before she walked away. 

Bruce looked down to his daughter who was still staring ahead.

He had so much to ask her, like What the hell happened? But she beat him to it, unclenching her fist. 

"I'm sorry for punching you, but I was. Angry." She was gritting her teeth. "But I did meant it, you don't need to bother trying to contact me or anything. I'm perfectly happy without you." 

She started walking away.

"Marinette-" he called out and she stopped. It reminded him of earlier and he had a sinking feeling that her words would be as heartbreaking as the first time. 

She shook her head. "Like I said B, I needed you." For the first time, since she arrived in the cafeteria, she turned to look at him and gave him a small sad smile that broke his heart all over again. "It would have been nice to know that at least one of my parents supported me."

He didn't say anything. What could he say to make this better? 

She walked away, and this time, he didn't stop her. 

~

Jason was a little more than pissed. 

His day had started out nicely enough, made better when he saw a tiny girl taking out two men probably twice her size. 

He was going to help her but she had already taken care of them. 

She still thanked him for trying to come to her aid and when he offered to walk her to wherever she was going, the girl took a few moments to assess him - to him it felt like she was looking through his soul.

There was something about her that screamed to him not to underestimate her.  She knew what she was doing, that much was clear and when she offered him a sunny smile and told him that she was heading to Wayne Enterprises, he felt something loosen inside of him. 

It was bizarre to say the least but he felt at peace near her. Safe. 

Later on, he would realise that the haze of the Lazarus pit that he had struggled with everyday since his ressurection had retreated when he was near her. 

Jason's mood started to worsen when he found out that she had been left alone by her class. Something like an ugly acidic green snake coiled up inside of him wanting to protect her and extract revenge. 

Jason's mood improved again as throughout the day she saw the girl interact with his brothers, clearly winning over them as well. 

Though, he was rarely - to the point of never seen at WE usually, he decided to make an exception that day and hang out with the tour group Tim was supposed to be leading. 

Damian had also supposedly been bored and had decided to crash the party and Dick wasn't too far behind their youngest to keep him out of trouble. 

Everything was going smoothly and honestly, it was after a long time that they found someone the others didn't have a problem with. 

Then he had noticed Bruce, and not even a few seconds after, he noticed the bluenette slipping out after him.

Dick and Damian - who had been shadowing her all day, slipped away after her and he was stuck behind babysitting with his replacement.

That class had nothing of worth except Marinette. There was actually even a fool that was stupid enough to claim that she knew the Waynes in front of them, while not knowing that they were the Waynes and instead treating them like mere employees. 

He would enjoy putting her in her place. 

But before he could, his day started taking a turn for the worst, impossible to brighten again.

The girl, he didn't care enough to know her name, out of the blue stated that Marinette probably just slipped away again to draw attention to her. That escalated in a very…informative battle of words that made him want to take a plane to Paris and drench it's streets in blood.

As if that wasn't enough, he saw Bruce again, now looking like someone slapped him in the face with a fish...

On closer look, he could see that someone had actually punched him. He was so going to hack the Tower's camera. 

And then Marinette spoke up and...what? 

He was completely lost.

Did she say one of my parents? He hoped for Bruce sake that he misheard because otherwise that meant that this father figure fucked up again...which wasn't that suprising really.

So really, Jason was a little more than pissed and he felt like his choice of words was appropriate. 

"What the actual fuck Bruce?"

~

Tim was tired. 

His day had set out to be a tiring one, irrespective of the fact that he had stayed up all night to work on a case. 

He had to lead a tour group. 

Wayne Enterprises had a habit of keeping an eye on promising students for schools that they funded. For some reason, Bruce had started funding a College François Dupont in Paris. Why? He didn't know but knowing the man, he probably had some ulterior motive. 

That had intrigued him and he had taken a look at the students in their last year. There was indeed some very promising young talents - who by the looks of it, already knew which career they wanted to do and were clearly working toward them. Many of them had already been on T.V shows, had their names in newspapers or did small gigs and commissions. It was rather impressive. 

There was this one class however which at the beginning was one who seemed to have a lot of potential but he saw in their files that over the years their...efforts dropped collectively around the same time. It was extremely bizarre. 

One particular student in that class drew his attention though. It was one Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Her academic records were stellar - always had been and while her grades had dropped a but at one point, she got them back up within the year which was more than impressive since she had skipped two years. She also seemed really talented, had won several awards and supposedly had a website for commissions - her file seemed...rushed and considerably lacking in details compared to her classmates even though Tim felt like she did way more than them. 

Call it his detective instincts but he knew that there was something going on in that class, his doubts were further re-inforced when he saw a report about Marinette, it was once again quite vague but what little was in it still chilled him to the core.

But...still...there was something else about her. Something striked him as soon as he saw her picture - she seemed really really familiar but he couldn't put his finger on where exactly had he seen her before. 

Well, as CEO he was supposed to be leading the tour groups anyways, so hopefully he'd get to find out then. 

The tour group consisted of all the senior class of the college and he prayed against all hope that it wasn't to be a disaster. 

Flashforward to the big day...it wasn't actually so bad. His brothers had crashed the party...which was unexpected but they weren't causing any trouble which was for more than he could usually hope for and while some students were absolutely aboherent ((mostly from that one class that had caught his attention)) the rest were genuinely nice. He had managed to talk to a few of them and was pleasantly surprised at their intellect. 

The most interesting student there though was, as he had predicted, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng, she was able to keep up with him throughout all of his explanations, whatever department may it have been in even though it was clearly stated in her file that she wanted a career in fashion. But well, he knew better than most that appearances could be receiving. Simply put, she was a genius. 

She reminded him of Elle from Legally Blonde for some reason. 

There was however also one student who had certainly not impressed him, thoroughly disgusted him actually - Lila Rossi. 

See the thing was that no one knew that he was actually the CEO. That had been done intentionally. The aim of the tour after all was for him to be able to see if there was any potential employees for Wayne Enterprises among them. 

And boy, was he going to blacklist her. 

The girl was a lying machine and the lies weren't even good. She name-dropped at every other sentence and even did the mistake of lying about him and his brothers in a place where any employee who knew them personally could call her out on her bullshit. It was such an amateur mistake. 

His opinion of her only soured when she insulted Marinette, he had taken her a liking to her, however brief their conversation had been and even if he hadn't - the fact that Lila bought up her kidnapping and downplayed it would be more than enough. 

Thankfully not everyone from that College was total numbskulls. A few people immediately jumped to the defense of the absent girl. 

He cataloged them mentally - The Braindead, The Neutrals and The Defenders, while also taking notes of what they were saying. 

What he heard out was even more horrifying that what he had read. 

That it! He was going to be looking into this girl's case personally.

As of all of this wasn't bad enough, Bruce just had to make everything worse. 

Because he could finally out the pieces together and understand why Marinette looked so familiar. 

Marinette was his sister. 

Marinette was Bruce's daughter and he was going to have to answer to Tim - and but the looks of it, his brother too - about what had happened to their newfound sister. 

~

Damian…

Damian didn't know what to think. 

#Maribat #Platonic Daminette #marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #torture #mentions of rape #bamf marinette #Badass Marinette #Bruce is trying #bruce is a good dad #lila salt #adrien salt

[sunsetcurbed]

you showed me faith is not blind (miracles happen)

Pairing: Alex/Willie  Words: 6,242  Rating: T  Chapter Warnings: panic attack, later on a character expresses past worries about being followed Chapter: 7/11  read on AO3 

Chapter Summary:  The stares don't start until a couple hours in the next day. Everyone is too tired in the morning to be paying attention in the hallways. On the way to econ though, after meeting up with Luke and Flynn, he can see people stop and double take when he walks past, he can feel the eyes on him, hear the whispers.

(*) 

The stares don't start until a couple hours in the next day. Everyone is too tired in the morning to be paying attention in the hallways. On the way to econ though, after meeting up with Luke and Flynn, he can see people stop and double take when he walks past, he can feel the eyes on him, hear the whispers. A pressure starts building in the middle of his forehead and there's acid in his throat. Luke and Flynn notice when he starts to lag behind them, his eyes focused on the floor, even though they're not really focused on the floor because everything is kind of… blurred and hazy. He thinks he's stopped walking by this point. He can still feel the eyes on him.

"Heeey," Luke's voice sings, coming up on Alex's right. "Hey, buddy, I'm gonna grab your arm so I can take you over to the wall, okay?" Alex thinks he nods. He still feels the eyes on him. Luke gets him to the wall and presses his back against it and tells him to sit down. Alex slides down until his butt hits the ground then closes his eyes. He draws his knees up to his chest and even though he can't feel the eyes anymore, he can remember the whispers over the rushing of the blood in his head. His throat burns. "Hey, Alex," Luke says, close to Alex's ear. "I'm gonna count for you, and I need you to breathe with the numbers, okay?" He then starts in on one of Alex's breathing exercises, and Alex goes with it, even if he can't quite make it to eight on the exhale because he doesn't have enough breath and his chest burns with the lack of air. Oh, god. He doesn't have enough breath. He draws in a deep, gasping breath to fill his lungs but it doesn't feel like enough. He can't get enough—it's not enough—there's not enough—

He doesn't remember going under water, but he's drowning now. He doesn't know when he got here. He doesn't know how he got here. He doesn't know where the surface is and how to swim up to it. He feels weighted down. His limbs are heavy and—and he can't even feel his fingers. Oh, god. He can't feel his fingers. He tries wiggling them but nothing happens—nothing except an increase of noise under the water. He vaguely registers his heart beating in overtime, trying to keep up with his body. His body is trembling, of that much he's sure, but it's not disturbing the water around him, because there are no ripples, there are no waves. He's shaking but everything around him is calm.

"Alex, can you hear me?" Alex lifts his head and opens his eyes—the water got into his eyes. Either that or he's crying—to see two people in front of him. One is crouching beside him and one is standing in front of him and holding her backpack on the side that the other isn't on, blocking him from sight of anyone who might pass. Alex draws in another breath, filling his lungs as full as they'll go. "Can you hear me, Alex?" Alex looks at him. Luke. He looks up at the girl. Flynn. He nods. "Sweet. Can you tell me five things you can see?" Backpack, board, locker, garbage, orange. "Orange? Wh—oh, my hoodie, yeah. All right, four things you can feel?" Dirt on floor, wall against back, rings on fingers—didn't he not have fingers?—, shoes against toes. "Three things you can hear?" Luke's voice, desks moving around, and the front office phones ringing. "Two things you can smell?" The chemicals from the bathroom right behind them, his Old Spice deodorant. "And what about taste?"

Alex sits up straighter. "I'm good now," he says.

"Uh-uh," Luke shakes his head. "You've got one more. You're finishing this, come on. Please."

"Mint, from my gum earlier."

"Good, buddy," Luke praises. "How you feeling?"

"Like shit," he admits.

"Do you want to go to the nurse?" Flynn asks.

"No. No. He can't do anything. All he ever does is has me sit there for a few minutes and then sends me back to class anyways."

"We could go to the front office instead then," she tries. "They could call your mom or dad—"

"No," Alex shakes his head. "I don't—I don't. I don't want to bother them. I'll be fine."

"They're your parents," Flynn frowns. "You wouldn't be bothering them."

"We can just skip econ," Luke says. "Go hang out in the music room, Mrs. Harrison would let us. We've already missed the first fifteen minutes. And Mrs. Lewis would understand why we skipped too, she's chill."

"I… I couldn't…"

"Yes you could," Flynn says, "and you are. You need a break, Alex. If you won't go to the nurse and won't go to the front office, then we're doing this."

Flynn and Luke drag him across the school to the music room where Mrs. Harrison is setting up for the lesson. When Flynn explains what happened, Mrs. Harrison offers to email Mrs. Lewis and explain the situation, so Alex relaxes. She gives the three of them free reign and Alex makes his way immediately to the drums. He's exhausted, but the drums are his happy place. The drums will rejuvenate him. He starts out with a steady beat, trying to give his heart something to follow, and then starts to add on to it. Luke joins in on the guitar and then Flynn on the trumpet, and they have a small jam session, just the three of them. It almost makes him completely forget that he'd just been drowning for the better part of fifteen minutes.

He manages to make it the rest of the day without another panic attack despite all the eyes on him. His friends all walk him to class, even though he doesn't have public speaking or biology with any of them, and he's grateful for that. But by the time he makes it to the consulate that afternoon, he's still mentally and physically exhausted. It's Tuesday, so his first thing to do is therapy, and he's… not exactly looking forward to that. He is planning to ask about how to overcome his anxiety so he has a chance at being prince if he decides, but after today, he's not sure if that's even possible. But, according to his therapist it is.

"Right, we'll get to that, but you told me the other day that you think your friend Julie had a good point about your social anxiety, can you remind me what that was?" his therapist, Tessa, asks.

"Uh—she thinks, when people are looking at me with the band, or with other people, I don't get anxious, or as anxious, because I think people are perceiving me in relation to the people I'm with, and I think they're seeing me as I see the people I'm with. But when people are looking at me as me, they're looking at me how I look at myself."

"And how do you look at yourself?"

Alex snorts. "Badly?"

"What do you mean by 'badly'?"

"Just… I'm anxious, I worry about things that normal people don't worry about and I have fears that normal people don't fear and I'm wired really tight. And I'm boring—I feel like I'm not interesting and all I talk about is music, and now Beasiga, and sometimes school, and the books I'm reading which are someone else's thoughts, not mine. I have weird thoughts, like those weird fears I mentioned and just… weird things running through my head that I wouldn't want to tell other people and I constantly worry that I'm accidentally going to say one of those weird things but I also feel like people somehow know what I'm thinking anyways like they can read my mind? And then I can be mean to good people, like when I met my grandma I just… I ran out on her and I didn't even give her a chance, y'know? And I make snarky comments at my friends sometimes that sometimes can cross a line and I don't mean to, I just… I don't have as much patience as I feel like everyone else has? And I'm gay, which isn't… that's not bad but some people think it is so sometimes I hate that I am, especially because my parents aren't okay with it. I say things that sometimes make me sound stupid or just… absolutely wild, and I always feel out of place, like everyone else belongs and I just don't have a reason to be there. … And my friends are such better people than me that I'm not sure how I ended up being friends with them," he says, the words tumbling from his mouth with barely any thought.

Tessa nods, and Alex wants to laugh. Anyone else that he unloaded that on would have stared at him with concern and maybe asked if he was okay, but she just. She just nods. "So you value your friends very much?"

"Very much."

"And their opinions?"

"Yes."

"And yet you question their choice to have you as a friend?"

Alex frowns. "Not… not exactly? I just… More like I don't know how I got so lucky."

"But you value their opinions."

"Yes," he says, cautious now.

"So if your friends have chosen to be friends with you, they must see something in you, much like you see something in them, meaning they think very highly of you as well. And if you value their opinion, then… perhaps you should ask their opinion on you, and put some stock in that," she suggests. "Perhaps start viewing yourself as they see you instead of… badly."

Alex frowns. All the negative thoughts about his friendships creep into his brain at her suggestion: what if they're just friends with him because they don't know how to break it off? What if they lie to him? What if they're only friends with him to use him for the band? What if they're just genuinely too nice of people that they let him stick around?

He shakes his head.

If there's one thing he knows, it's that his friends love him. For fuck's sake, Willie and him just started dating, and Willie easily could have just turned him down or walked away instead of kissing Alex. It's cruel of Alex to think so negatively of his friends, and his stomach twists with the thought of them ever finding out. They'd be hurt at his lack of trust, which is that last thing he wants.

"And what, it's that simple?" Alex asks her. "I ask my friends how they see me and then I stop having panic attacks when people look at me?"

"No, not even close," Tessa says. "That's just a starting point. No, you have to learn to recognize what's happening, realize why it's happening, and then find the coping mechanisms to reevaluate the situation in real time." Alex stares at her and tilts his head. "Take today for example," she says. "If you had these skills you would have been able to recognize you were panicking because of the staring and whispering, realize it was because you thought people were looking at you critically, and then reevaluate—tell yourself that people were looking at you because of the news articles and their stares were out of curiosity rather than judgment."

"That… makes sense," Alex says.

"Another skill would be exposure therapy, which I think you're going to be getting whether you like it or not, even if it's not exactly… monitored or traditional. But a lot of eyes are going to be on you, and while it's going to die off soon enough—they're high schoolers, they lose interest quick—, use it to your advantage. When you start to feel overwhelmed, recognize what is going on, realize why, and reevaluate the situation that you're in. And don't get frustrated if it doesn't work the first time, or even the first few times. It's a learning process, and it will take time."

He surprises himself the next day when he stops a panic attack in its tracks, needing no help from his friends. His anxiety is still there, but even when he sees a girl point and her three friends turn around and look at him, it remains only anxiety. Once that anxiety does happen to pass, it leaves him on a high, so high that he looks at Willie at lunch and asks, "you're out to the entire school, right?" and when Willie says yes, Alex kisses him. When he pulls away, Willie is absolutely fucking beaming. They kiss a few more times throughout lunch, and then in the hallway after lunch, and people are staring at Alex again but Alex thinks: people aren't staring at him to judge him, they're staring at him because he kissed Willie. And isn't that awesome? He'd stare at whoever was kissing Willie, too.

The next two school days pass uneventfully, despite all the eyes on him. He has a few close calls with anxiety attacks, but no panic attacks, and either his friends or his new coping methods are always there to keep him breathing steady. The only other noteworthy thing that happens is that his dad has actually starts speaking to him again by Thursday—no mention of Alex's coming out on Monday, though. Alex thinks he expected this, to be honest. See, his mom thinks that because she's not calling him every slur in the book or kicking him out that she's not being homophobic. She thinks that she's being supportive. She had said the other day "just because I support you doesn't mean I have to be okay with your choice" even though she… clearly did not support him. Still, she still loved him even if she didn't support him, and that's more than a lot of kids who came out to their parents got, so Alex… he dealt with it. But… his dad.

Alex knows Mike, and he knows that he's going to ignore it, and then maybe find a girl to set Alex up with. The subtle 'I'm telling myself I've forgotten about this but I haven't actually at all, I'm just pretending it never happened' classic Mike move. He's done it before, and Alex knew he'd try it in this case if given the chance, so he is hoping to get the chance to introduce him to Willie sooner rather than later. Chances are he'll stop talking to Alex again, but at least Alex will be able to be with his boyfriend without the looming threat of being set up with a girl. (He's not sure when he stopped caring about having the man he viewed as his dad in his life, but he's pretty sure it probably started the night he walked away from Alex's coming out without a word.)

When seven pm comes around Friday night and it's time for Alex and Willie's date, their first date where Alex will actually be able to kiss Willie, Alex is all too eager to hurry out the consulate's front door to Willie's Honda as it pulls up and jump in the front seat. Just—he's a little confused this time, because as he puts his bag at his feet, he notices Willie turning the keys and pulling them out of the ignition. Alex looks over at Willie.

Willie sighs. "Can we go talk to your grandma?"

Alex doesn't know how to reply, so he's left stammering out, "uh, y-yeah. Yeah! C'mon."

They both get out of the car and Alex leads him to the door. Alex watches as Willie gets patted down by security and waved through, and then grabs his hand to take him back to the library where he had just been with his grandmother. He hopes she's still there.

Thankfully, she is, and when they reach the library, she looks up from her book. Her eyes widen. "Alexander! I thought you'd left. And who is this?"

"I'm Willie, ma'am—er, Your Majesty," Willie greets, stepping forward without thought. Only Alex's hold on his hand keeps Willie from going any further ahead.

His grandmother gets up and walks over to them. "Oh, you're Alexander's friend—" she dips her eyes down to their hands "—boyfriend?" Willie nods. "No need for the formalities, dear. Louisa is fine. William, you said your name was?"

"Uh, Willie."

"Willie," she repeats back. "I'm thankful to meet you."

"Me too," Willie nods. "But there's, uh, there's actually a reason?" Alex tightens his grip on Willie's hand. Willie squeeze's back and Alex isn't sure if it's reassurance or if it's grounding Willie.

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Willie nods. "I wanted to talk to you and Alex both at the same time. I might have just had Alex tell you about it, but I wanted your opinion too, so, I just—I'm sorry, can we sit?"

"Of course," she says, and motions over to the couches in the corner. "Sit wherever you'd like." The three of them migrate over and take their seats, and then his grandmother returns her attention to Willie. "You were saying?"

"I was in Hollywood this afternoon running an errand for my mom and a man approached me. He didn't approach me like a stranger though, he knew my name. Or, he said, 'Willie, right?' I didn't know him. I still don't, but—I didn't really know how to get away. I couldn't just tell him to uh… uh… go away. I didn't want to be rude. And we were in public, so I wasn't in danger," Willie says this with a squeeze of his hand, and Alex knows it's for him. The more Willie has been talking about the situation, the more anxious Alex has been getting. Willie clears his throat and continues. "But he started asking me some stuff about Alex, like personal stuff about who he was as a person and his family life… And then some stuff about Alex and Beasiga. He started getting… really specific about Beasiga too—like stuff that I only know because Alex has told me. I was as vague as I could be, I didn't even answer most of them, I promise. But, he was really pushy. He wanted to know, really bad, to the point where he was nearly bribing me? Something about skating the streets of Hollywood? Which, yeah he might have just said because I was literally skating the streets of Hollywood, but… It… I know there are obsessive people out there, I do, but what I don't know is how to handle them. Especially not when it comes to someone else. I know because I'm connected to Alex the things I do could be connected back to him, so I can't just… be rude to people. I mean, not that I would want to be. But, I don't know what to do in these situations."

"I'm so sorry," Alex murmurs, turning to face Willie and putting his free hand on Willie's knee.

Willie turns to look at him. "No—don't be. It's not your fault, okay?"

"Yes it is—"

Willie lifts his hand to Alex's face and brushes his thumb along his cheekbone. "No. It's not. Now be quiet. I'm here to speak with Louisa." He drops his hand and turns back to Alex's grandmother. "Do you have any… advice? on how to deal with this in the future?"

"Yes, I do," she says, "but first, was the man who approached you in a suit?"

Willie nods. "Yeah."

"Did he have a rather extravagant jacket? With crystals embedded in it?"

Again, Willie nods, this time with narrowed eyes. "Yes…"

"That was Mr. Covington, I'm afraid." Alex feels his hand clench reflexively around Willie's. Willie whips his head around to look at Alex, but Alex is focused on his grandmother. His grandmother stands up and walks over to a shelf on the far side of the library. She pulls a book off the shelf and makes her way back. "Alexander, we haven't covered the Covingtons yet, but they're a grand family, and an important family in our country's history. Beyond the Mercers, the Covingtons are one of the most respected families in Beasigan history. Thomas Covington was the main author of our Constitution."

"My mom mentioned Covington," Alex says.

His grandmother sighs. "I supposed she might."

Willie looks between them. "Okay, his family is important, but who is he?"

"Caleb Covington is next in line for the Beasigan throne should Alexander decline," his grandmother says.

"W-wait. That guy?" Willie asks. "That guy will be running the country if Alex chooses not to?"

"And he wants to," Alex mutters.

"Oh, he really wants to," his grandmother huffs, pacing back and forth in front of the coffee table. Alex would drop his jaw, but he thinks he's too shocked to even move the muscles to do that. He's never seen his grandmother lose her composure, has never even dreamed of it happening. "He wouldn't stop pestering me for weeks about it. He threatened me that he was going to contact you if I didn't do it myself. It was either force a sixteen year old boy into a role that he didn't want to be ready for, or end up having that sixteen year old boy hate me for the rest of my life because a loathsome man told him about me and didn't give me a chance to explain myself." She stops her pacing and puts her hands to her forehead. She shakes her head. She looks up at Willie through her hands. "I'm truly sorry he approached you Willia—Willie. Clearly, not only does the man lack manners, but also discretion."

"Don't be sorry," Willie says. "It's not your fault."

"Nevertheless," she sighs. She looks at Alex. "I doubt he would dare to think to approach you, but I'll gather a picture of him and have John send it to you so you can be aware of who he is. You can also send it to your other friends so they can seek to avoid him as well. Do warn them not to let him know they know who he is, though. You either, Willie. If he knows you know, he won't have any reason to refrain himself from pressing even further. That being said, you don't have anything to fear from him other than persistence. He'd never risk his standing in Beasiga—he still holds a high title even if he does not become king and he will not readily give that up. He may crave power but he already holds power and he's not a stupid man."

"You… really don't like this guy," Alex says.

His grandmother looks at him and laughs a small laugh. "Was I being obvious?"

"A bit," he smiles. "But it was good for me. Really humanized you."

"Was I not human before?"

"No, not really," he admits. "You're like, perfect."

"Oh, Alexander, I'm far from perfect," she shakes her head. "Remind me to tell you some stories about my early days of royalty with my husband sometime. Those will humanize me."

He grins. "Looking forward to it."

"Well," she says, clasping her hands together, "I don't want to keep you two here all night. Unless… is there anything else you need or want to discuss, Willie?"

"No, I'm good. Thank you so much for listening and figuring that out. It was really freaking me out, so…"

"But of course," she says, waving him off. "It's no worry at all. I'm only sorry you had to go through that. And I do hope I'll see you around more? Please feel free to stop by to say hello, or even join some of Alexander's lessons if you have the time and feel like it."

"I'll take you up on that offer, definitely," Willie says, standing from the couch. Alex gets up as well. "It was really, really nice to meet you, Louisa. Again, thank you, so much. We'll leave you to your reading now though. We'll see you around."

"Bye, Grandma," Alex says, and then tugs Willie out from the space between the couch and the coffee table. His grandmother calls out a goodbye after them and they send waves over their backs.

They're quiet on their walk through the consulate and out to the car. It still remains silent as Willie turns on the car and they get strapped in and Willie puts the car in drive, but as soon as he goes to pull into the street, Alex feels himself break.

"Why didn't you call me?" he demands.

"I knew you'd freak out," Willie says, shooting him an apologetic look. "Besides, I called my mom after, so I could talk to someone because I thought—kidnappers don't take people on phones, right?"

"You were worried about being kidnapped?!"

"Not—not really?" he shrugs. "I was more worried he was going to stalk me to get to you. So I've been pretty hyper vigilant all day. I drove twenty extra minutes before I came to pick you up today just to make sure no one was following me. No one even was following me. But… just in case."

Alex blinks. On one hand, after Willie's experience today, that's a completely understandable reaction. On the other… "I think, like, by dating me, you're getting some of my anxiety." Willie leans his head back and laughs. "No, I think it's a thing. Like, every time we kiss, a little bit of anxiety leaves me and goes into you. It's why I've been doing better lately."

Willie reaches over and puts his hand on Alex's thigh. "You've been doing better lately because you're doing better. Not because of some magic kisses."

"You saying our kisses aren't magic?"

Willie squeezes Alex's thigh, hard, and when Alex looks over, he can see Willie's cheeks darkening a shade. "I'm—I'm saying, I'm proud of you, you know that, right?"

"Oh." Alex blinks. "Hang on, how did we go from you worrying you were going to get kidnapped to you being proud of me? How is that a logical progression?"

Willie laughs again, and Alex falls back into his seat, helpless.

They end up at Chipotle, sitting in a back corner booth on the same side of the table, thighs pressed flush together, shoulders brushing as they eat their bowls and watch YouTube videos on Willie's phone. They overstay their welcome, but no one kicks them out. It's just… they're just not sure where else to go. With Alex's lessons not ending until seven and the sun setting far before then, there's not too much to do on their Fridays besides sit and talk and goof around somewhere. But then Willie has an idea and pulls Alex out to his car.

"I don't know why I'm only thinking of this now," he says as he's driving down a residential street. "It feels like the obvious answer for a Friday night hang out," he says, right as he turns into a driveway. Willie shuts off the engine and gets out of the car and Alex follows, slower.

He's never been here before, but he's pretty sure this is Willie's house. If he's right, and he realizes he is as Willie unlocks the door, then that means Willie's family is inside, or at least some of them… probably. Alex has met Willie's older sister Taylor, since she was a senior when Alex was a freshman in high school. She had driven Willie home the day they had met at the beach. After that, sometimes at lunch she'd come bug her little brother and steal a chip from him and give him trouble and she always said hello to Alex and the others. But Taylor was off at NYU now. Willie's little sister Jamie doesn't go to Los Feliz High School since she isn't in performing arts but Alex has met her in passing. Willie would drive her places when he was meeting the group, and then she'd go her own way, and they'd go theirs. But Willie's parents? Alex has never met them, not once. And now, with no preparation, he thinks he's about to.

He follows Willie inside and looks around. It's definitely Willie's house—there are pictures of him and Taylor and Jamie dotted all around what Alex assumes to be the living room. He tries not to let his eyes linger on any of them too long, not wanting to intrude on any of their family memories (though, he supposes they're displayed for a reason). Willie slips his shoes off so Alex does too, and he follows him through the house.

They slow down when they pass an archway, and Alex looks in to see a sewing machine set up, fabric flowing out of it as it hums violently. There's a woman sitting behind it, staring down at what she's working on with intense concentration. On the other side of the room is a man sat behind a computer with a gaming headset on, leaning into the computer with focus.

"Hey," Willie says casually, and the noise of the sewing machine stops. Both the man and the woman look over and smile.

"Hey," the woman greets. "You're home early. How was your day?"

"Good. Alex and I ran out of places to go, so I brought him back with me," Willie explains, throwing a thumb over his shoulder to point at Alex. The woman's eyes flick to Alex. "We're gonna go watch a movie or something."

"All right," she says. "Let us know if you need anything. Alex, it's nice to meet you."

"Uh, it's nice to meet you too," he says. And, well. Huh. That wasn't bad at all. What was scary about that?

He follows Willie again until they're into what Alex assumes is Willie's room. As soon as Alex closes the door behind him, before he even has the chance to look around, Willie is dropping his backpack on the floor and walking towards Alex. "Hey," he says, putting his hands on Alex's hips and walking Alex back until Alex's hips and back are pressed against the door.

"Hey," Alex says back. He's surprised at how cool his voice sounds when in reality his heart is trembling.

"Wanna watch a movie?"

"… not really."

"Huh," Willie huffs. He leans forward, resting all of his weight on Alex. Alex's heart isn't just trembling anymore—his insides are completely rattled. "Well what are we supposed to do, then?"

"I dunno," Alex mumbles. This time there's a waver in his voice, but his tone is still strong, his voice is still confident. He traces a hand up Willie's side and around his back. His hand comes to fall on Willie's shoulder blade, his fingers reaching to brush the area in the middle of his back. His eyes flick from Willie's eyes to his lips and then back again. "Guess we'll have to figure it out, huh?"

"I think I have monopoly around here somewhere," Willie suggests, bringing his hand up to curl around Alex's neck. Alex feels a shock go through his body. The hand slips around so Willie's got a hold on the back of Alex's neck rather than the side of it, and Willie's eyes turn dark. He uses his hand to bring Alex forward a bit, but because of their position—Willie's body pressing his to the door—it ends up just tilting Alex's head back. Willie nudges Alex's chin with his nose and grins.

"Too boring with two players," Alex says, straightening his head again and tilting it down so the few inches he has on Willie stop feeling like a barrier. It's just… he doesn't lose himself with Willie, he just… feels vulnerable, feels like he's being taken apart piece by piece only to be put back together in an even more beautiful, sensible way. He shifts his weight on his feet, moving their entire position against the door, and then slips his hand that's still by his side beneath Willie's shirt and strokes his side. He feels Willie shiver lightly beneath his fingers. "What about scrabble?"

"You're much better with words than I am, not a fair game," Willie hums, and grabs Alex's wrist to stop him from caressing his side. Alex pushes down a feeling of smug satisfaction of finally getting through to his boyfriend. Willie presses Alex's wrist against the door and pushes their foreheads together, shutting his eyes as he does so. Alex lets his fall shut as well. "How about… tic-tac-toe?"

"Hmm… no, too predictable. What about hangman?" he asks, then, limited in his options with one hand pinned to the door, curls the fingers he has resting on Willie's upper back, digging his fingers in as deeply as he can. He's not expecting that to be what makes Willie break, but it does. As soon as his fingers press into Willie's back, the other boy is diving into Alex, connecting their mouths for a frantic kiss. Alex isn't prepared for it, had been expecting Willie to come back with another suggestion, so he gasps into the kiss. Willie mimics him, parting his lips as well, and then Alex can feel Willie, taste Willie. Alex's heart pounds in his chest and his blood rushes through his veins and the symptoms of… this are so similar to the start of a panic attack but during a panic attack Alex feels like he's drowning and now… now he feels like he's flying.

Willie uses the hand behind Alex's neck to pull him away from the door as he steps backwards, knowing the layout of his room so well that even while his attention is focused entirely on Alex, he can lead Alex slowly while walking backwards until they reach the bed. At that point, Willie breaks the kiss and hops on to the bed, looking at Alex with a clear invitation, but there's also uncertainty, as if moving to a bed is somehow a huge step. And Alex supposes in a way it is. They've only ever managed kissing in a vertical position and in public, which in turn, has kept all of their kissing more… tame. Simple. Mellow. They've never gotten to be a teenage couple and just… make out. Still, it's cute that Willie has had this pause, is so obviously waiting for Alex to make the next move. So Alex does.

He climbs on the side of the bed, staring at Willie, and knee walks over to him until he has one knee on either side of Willie's hips so he's straddling him. Willie stares up at him, hair fanned along his pillows, and his face is several shades darker than usual. Alex bites his lip to stop himself from grinning, and instead leans down to bump their noses together, careful to keep their lips separated even as Willie tries to kiss him. "I like your room."

"You haven't even seen my room," Willie says, eyes flickering between Alex's eyes and his lips.

"Sure I have." He flicks his eyes to the side. "You've got blue bedding. And monopoly, somewhere."

Willie groans, scrunching his nose. "Are we really doing this again?"

"I don't know," Alex hums. "I like affecting you."

"You always do," Willie tells him. He slips a hand up and cups Alex's jaw. "Always have."

"I like being able to see it," Alex admits. "I feel like I'm always the one giving in to you. Half the time you kiss me out of nowhere and I just—I don't know how to react after. You make me stupid."

Willie grins and huffs out a laugh. Alex is so close he can feel Willie's breath wash over his face. "Half the time I kiss you out of nowhere because I'm gone on you, dude. Most of the time, me kissing you is me being affected. You probably just did something hella cute."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh," Willie says. "Like, god, like right fucking now. 'Oh,'" he repeats with a roll of his eyes, and then surges up, locking their lips together. This time, Alex is at least a bit more prepared. He kisses back immediately and tries to take control this time. It takes Willie a minute to notice Alex's goal, so there's a bit of a battle between them—Willie leading subconsciously and Alex trying to sway it into his favor, until suddenly Willie realizes and backs down without any more of a fight. Willie relaxes back into his pillow, his hand drifts from Alex's jaw to his hip, and he brings his other hand up to slide beneath Alex's shirt to just rest on his stomach. Meanwhile Alex cards his fingers through Willie's hair, using his hold to gently guide Willie's head to where he wants it to be. He's propped up by his elbow on one side of Willie's head, so he uses that hand to play with strands of Willie's hair mindlessly. And slowly, his lips work against Willie's, and Alex wants this moment to last forever, wants to live in this feeling of being loved, being wanted, being held, being desired, being Willie's. Realistically he knows it won't last forever.

For right now, tonight's enough.

#willex #willex fic #willex fanfic #jatp fic #jatp fanfic #ysmfinb #my writing

[glacecakes]

Pomegranate Kisses

Hugo, god of the Underworld, visits the overworld on a whim, expecting to spend a nice vacation relaxing in the spring air. Instead, he falls in love. Varian, god of Spring, feels unloved by his family. That is, until he falls head over heels for the god who rules where nothing can grow. Or: Hades and Persephone with a twist.

I'm posting this separately from my Various Varigo Oneshots because I really like this one. I had the idea and I just kept adding and adding and adding and next thing I knew this fic was 5k words long. 

-

Once, in a time so long ago neither you nor I can truly fathom, yet recent enough that this tale survives, there were two gods.

They were as different as could be, practically night and day, summer and winter, or, in this case, death and life.

Hugo, the king of the Underworld, was the god of his domain, where nothing grew and the dead wandered. He was the god of glittering gems found beneath the surface, the god of the end. Mortals feared him, yet worshipped him. He was a part of life. An unforgettable, unpleasant part, but crucial nonetheless.

His opposite, Varian, was the god of spring. He was god of the grass beneath your feet, of the flowers that bloomed under the sun, and the god of fair weather. Where he stepped, rainbows of blossoms sprouted, and when he cried, his tears watered the earth and bore new life. People knew of his father, Quirin, god of the harvest, but the springtime was often forgotten. It was nice in the moment, but never lasted.

Yes, these two gods were as different as could be. But they had one thing in common: they were lonely. Dreadfully so.

-

Varian was fuming as he paced, his steps creating a massive flowerfield. He paid the flowers no mind. They were beautiful, sure, but once you’ve seen them a thousand times, you stop noticing.

“Stupid dad, stupid crops…” He muttered. “Varian, make this plant grow. Varian, stand up straight, you’re a god, not a mortal. Varian, do my chores for me while I get all the credit!” He threw his arms in the air in frustration. Groaning, he sank to the dirt beneath him, knees cushioned by the flowers he grew. “I do so much for him, and he never says, “hey Varian, thanks for all that you do, I’m proud of you.”” Oh, what he would give to hear that just once! What would it take? What grave and perilous quest would he have to undergo just to get a simple thank you?

How ridiculous is it, a god without any thanks. If you didn’t grovel at the feet of Frederick, his thunderbolts would turn you to dust. If you didn’t pray to Cassandra, her Huntresses would shower you in a million arrows. Don’t thank Varian and… your flowers wilt? He wasn’t even sure he could do that intentionally.

Just for once, he wanted to be seen. He wanted to be appreciated. Not just as Quirin’s son, he got a lot of respect for that. He wanted to be loved for who he was.

But who would love the forgotten God?

Underneath the surface, Hugo twirled his hair around a finger as he listened to one of his servants. They were going on about some natural disaster on the surface, or was it a war? Either way, there was an influx of people today that needed to be processed.

It was miserable.

Hugo sighed, slowly sinking down out of his throne. He would give anything for some entertainment, someone to talk to or just something nice to look at while he worked. One of those human books, perhaps?

“My lord,” His closest assistant, Donella, gently flicked his forehead. “Were you listening?”

“Hm, what?” Hugo blinked.

The woman rolled her eyes. “I said, the humans who died today are being processed, but you need to decide how the guilty should be punished.” Hugo bit his lip. He was running out of ideas, if he had to be honest. There wasn’t much inspiration to be found in grey walls and black ceilings.

“I dunno, boil them in acid, maybe?”

“What kind?”

“Just, acid.” He sat up further and stretched. “I can’t think properly. How do you always stay on task? Don’t you ever want a break?” The god asked as he stood up.

Donella raised an eyebrow. “We’re gods. We don’t need breaks.”

“You can still want one.”

“Ugh,” Donella pinched the bridge of her nose. “If you want one so bad, just go to the surface. Maybe you’ll get blinded by the sun and be inspired.”

Hugo perked up instantly. “Thanks, Don!” He chirped, and with a flick of his wrist, an obsidian staircase descended, stretching into the Underworld’s sky and out into the above. “Hold down the fort while I’m gone!” He called as he raced up the steps.

Hugo would never admit it, not to anyone, but he greatly enjoyed the surface. He was often told his emerald eyes were the only source of color in the Underworld, but up top? Color stretched as far as the eye could see. The world was awash with vibrant hues, and the sun warmed his freezing skin. He welcomed each visit like a breath of fresh air. He took the final steps into the mortal world…

Only to come face to face with a shocked and freckled face.

Their eyes met, and time stood still.

“Um…” The blue eyed beauty said. “What are you doing here?”

Hugo blinked, dumbfounded. His cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “I’m just… coming for a visit?”

“Out of the ground?”

“...yes?”

The boy barked out a laugh, and oh, those bunny teeth had no right being that cute.

Read the rest on ao3

#varian #varigo #tangled the series #varian and the seven kingdoms #varian and the seven kingdoms au #tangled #tts varian #hugo the human

[hazbincalifornia]

Check-In

Chapter 8: Stolas checks in on Blitzo.

Likes, replies, and reblogs are all appreciated, both here and on ao3!

Warnings: Mpreg

Ao3 link

Blitzo startled awake in his chair at a knock on the door, nearly falling off from the strange angle as he’d draped himself over it and almost tipped it over when he jolted up. “Fuck!”

“Oh, good, you’re awake.” Loona held up the phone. “It’s for you.”

He gave a long, sustained groan as he dragged himself across the office to take the call. “Heeeeeeeeeello?”

“Blitzy! Good, there you are!” Stolas sounded chipper enough that Blitzo briefly imagined stuffing him through a leaf mulcher. Oddly enough, it didn’t really help. “Change of plans. Instead of our usual call, I’ve tried out that smartphone Via had me get, I’m right outside your office!”

“Wha- shit, really?” Blitzo looked over at the clock, then down at himself. He was dressed- well, pretty much the same as he always did, so it wasn’t like Stolas was going to judge, but it was all wrinkled from his nap. This was just what he’d get for springing this on him. “Uh, we might have a-”

“Your Loona said that there was nothing on the schedule for today.”

She gave a half-grin at Blitzo. “Have fun.”

He set a hand over the bottom of the phone. “Seriously?”

Loona shrugged. “He promised to get you lunch.”

“Slightly more acceptable, then.” Blitzo took a breath. “Alright, you can come-”

Stolas opened the door before Blitzo even finished his sentence, and Blitzo fumbled the phone back into place before trying to straighten his suit a little.

“Oooh, it’s so cute!” Stolas gushed, getting down on one knee to admire the bump. Blitzo could already feel his eye twitching as the owl began running his hands over it in full view of Loona, who, when he looked over, had already buried her face in a magazine.

“Soooo... Loona said you promised lunch?”

Stolas looked up. “Yes, I’m taking you out of here for a few hours. I’d rather get a face-to-face update today, see how things are going.” He paused. “And Stella is out with her parents, so we have the house to ourselves until tomorrow.”

Ah, right. “What about… Olivia?”

“Octavia.”

“Yeah, her.”

“She’ll be in today, but she’ll likely be in her room.”

“Alright.” She didn’t seem that bad from what Blitzo had seen, at least. Maybe she could even distract her dad a little if she showed up. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Aw, don’t you want to spend time with me, Blitzy?” Stolas fluttered his eyes, and Blitzo couldn’t hold back a snort, ruffling at the top of Stolas’s head.

“I’m not about to turn down free lunch and we needed to talk anyway, let’s leave it at that, got it?”

“Good enough for me.” Stolas stood back up- even having shrunk himself a little to fit into the office, he towered over Blitzo. He reached for Blitzo’s wrist, leading him towards the door, and when Blitzo looked back, Loona waggled her fingers in farewell without looking up. Traitor.

_______________________

The ride to the palace was mostly filled with Stolas talking about how the last week or so had been. Via had introduced him to some new band that he wasn’t particularly fond of but did enjoy the instrumentals on, and he’d had to go to some mega boring dinner party. On and on, including some political bullfuckery in fancy words that Blitzo couldn’t really understand or bring himself to care about. (Especially not when he was sweating like a pig even though the limo had AC on when he put his hand up to the vent.)

“But on the plus side, the mawplants in the back of the greenhouse had been blooming wonderfully! And speaking of blooming…” Stolas grinned, cupping Blitzo’s cheek. “How have you been, Blitzy?”

“Fine.”

“Fine isn’t saying much, you know.”

“I’m alive, that’s something, isn’t it?”

“It is.” Stolas’s grin shrunk a little, but it was becoming more of a soft smile instead as they pulled up to the front doors. “Is the child giving you much trouble?”

“I want some grub in me before I start talking about this.” The leather seat creaked as Blitzo stood up. He stretched, rolling his shoulders before Stolas took the lead.

“I suppose I cannot begrudge you that.” The owl folded his hands behind his back, falling quiet until they made it to the dining room. Or some version of it, anyway- the table looked pretty small, so it was probably the tea room or something? Blitzo couldn’t imagine any really big feasts in here. It was kind of cozy, though.

The imp servants that were talking to each other when the two of them entered shut themselves up and side-eyed him. He flipped the nearest one off, making them take a half-step back.

“Relax, dipshits. Not here to take your jobs.”

One had an expression that Blitzo couldn’t quite parse out, kinda like she’d just swallowed pickle brine but then also was trying to offer sympathy at a funeral. She hurried out when Stolas waved her towards the door.

“Go collect the lunch things.”

“Yessir!” They cleared out, and Blitzo settled himself down at one of the seats. He ended up having to just get into a kneeling position and settle down on his calves in order to reach the damn table.

“Ah, I’ll have them bring you a cushion,” Stolas said as he sat down himself. “Are you alright with fish?”

“Yeah, fish’s fine. I like fish.” Blitzo looked around- he usually didn’t see much of the palace outside of the hallways and Stolas’s bedroom. There were paintings and pictures all over- several of Stolas himself. “Interesting decorations.”

“Thank you!” Stolas seemed to take it as a compliment. “Now, how have you been the past week?”

“I told you-”

“It doesn’t have to be about the child. I want to hear about you.” Stolas’s elbows were on the table as his chin settled on his hands, head tilting slightly as he watched Blitzo with all four eyes half-lidded. Even kneeling, Blitzo was still getting looked down at, and he groaned, resigning himself to standing up on the chair until the servants came back with something tall enough to make him not feel like a fucking baby. His armpits felt like swamps and he hoped he didn’t smell like an acrobat’s ass-crack.

“Pretty typical week. We had a few jobs, I killed some random jackass who he tried to mug me because he was drunk as shit and tried to tear my clothes off.”

“Oh! Are you alright?”

“Yeah, it wasn’t much of a fight. Like I said, he was drunk, and it was enough he was super clumsy. That kinda shit happens a lot,” Blitzo said, leaning against the table. Dammit, Stolas was still taller, but sitting on the table itself was gonna be way too demeaning. “He had a lot in his wallet, though.”

“Ah. Resourceful!” Stolas’s smile widened a bit as one of the imp servants brought in a silver tray with two plates on it, kicking a small stepstool out from under the table in order to set the tray on the table and push the plates towards the two of them. “Now, a high cushion for Blitzy here, so he doesn’t have to stand.”

The imp turned to look over at Blitzo, but the narrowed eyes he met were enough to send him hurrying out of the room as Stolas picked up a little fork.

“Don’t worry if there’s any left over. The portion sizes are typically for Hellborns more my size.” He grinned. “Of course, I know you much you can swallow, don’t I?”

“Wow, you managed to make it a while. I’m actually impressed.” Blitzo picked up the fork and started to pick at the fish before taking a bite. It was- okay, it was delicious. Rich people had good food, he already knew that. He stabbed the fork into the plate as he scooped up another decent-sized chunk before stuffing it into his mouth.

“Mmm, and you haven’t decided to come over just for fun yet, I’ve noticed.” Stolas used his fork to cut the fish in half horizontally before dropping the top half into his beak, the two halves making a ‘click’ as they snapped shut and the whole thing moving down his throat in a huge lump. Blitzo lost at least half of his appetite, but the fish that was still in his mouth tasted good enough to swallow.

“It’s only been a week, I’ve been busy.” He paused for half a second. “Hey, besides, the deal was I come over if I want to now.” Blitzo pointed the end of his fork at him. “I thought you couldn’t go back on the handshake ones.”

“I can’t, I was merely curious.” Stolas licked at the side of his mouth. “I still expect updates, of course, but yes, it’s up to you now. I think that makes it more exciting, don’t you?” His voice practically dropped to a purr. “After all, it will be when you can’t resist staying away.”

Blitzo’s stomach turned as he plastered a smile on his face. “Uh… huh.” He looked down at his plate, then back up at Stolas. “Might as well get this over with. I need a new gun.”

“Done, but what happened to your old one?” Stolas didn’t seem angry, just curious, which was… well, pretty much what Blitzo had been expecting.

“....Puked my guts on it and it turns out pregnancy puke melts shit,” Blitzo grumbled.

“Would you like me to order it, or just give you the funds to-”

“Funds,” Blitzo said, just as the servant came back with a stack of cushions. He looked up at Stolas who nodded over to Blitzo, and then the cushions were passed up to Blitzo.

“Alright, I got them, you can go.” Blitzo made a shooing motion before sitting down, and the imp’s eye twitched before he hurried out. “What, was he expecting a tip?”

“He probably isn’t used to seeing imps get special treatment around here is all,” Stolas said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Anywho. You were saying something about sickness- I believe that’s a good segue into asking you how the pregnancy in general has treated you.”

“Fucking terribly,” Blitzo snapped. “There’s the acid puke thing, which luckily hasn’t come back yet but definitely will, I have to basically cut out any coffee stronger than piss, Moxxie and Millie got all bitchy at me for trying to use coke-”

“Cocaine coke?” Stolas leaned over the table, alarmed.

“I didn’t get to actually use it, keep your feathers on.”

“I should have included a clause about keeping yourself safe as well in our deal!” Stolas slid off the chair and crossed around the table in a few strides, cupping Blitzo’s face. “I know how good you are at your job so I wasn’t too worried about the baby’s health before, but-”

Blitzo pulled back, pushing Stolas’s hand away. “-But I’m a grown-ass man, I can handle myself, alright? You asked me how it was going, I said it sucked, I’m not sugarcoating this.”

“You should have contacted me.” Stolas clicked his tongue. “I could make some tea for nausea, and at least given you some advice from when Stella was with Via.”

Blitzo slumped back on the chair and felt the cushion pile shift under him, not quite steady. “So. Do you have any advice?”

“Well, I would advise relaxing, but you don’t seem very fond of slowing down, isn’t that right?” Stolas pinched Blitzo’s cheek, getting a grumble out of the imp. “I suppose you should be on the lookout for odd cravings- they might be more raptor-esque, depending on how owl the child leans.”

“If I have to eat mice or something-”

“I could give you some!” Stolas interrupted, grabbing Blitzo’s shoulder. “You never know what’s in street rats.” He shuddered. “Via had a phase when she liked eating fresh-caught rats instead of respectably home-raised mice. She’s lucky she didn’t get sick.”

“...I don’t wanna eat rats,” Blitzo muttered, feeling sticky in his suit as he shifted around again.

“You may not have a choice- Stella was a right beast sometimes when it came to getting certain foods as she wanted them! It was more than worth it in the end to have Via, though, of course.” Stolas’s hand drifted down from Blitzo’s shoulder to his stomach.

“It hasn’t gotten any bigger in like a week.”

“I know that, but it’s still wonderful,” Stolas said, a big dopey grin on his face with his eyes plastered on Blitzo’s middle. “You’re really carrying our child.”

“Yeah. That was the deal.” Blitzo wasn’t really sure why his skin had ants scurrying underneath it at the touch. Stolas casually undid the lower button on Blitzo’s suit, pushing the fabric aside to see the fabric of the turtleneck underneath. “Hey, no gropey.”

“I’m just making sure that the child is still alright, if you’re being such a reckless little imp,” Stolas hummed, his hand glowing red. Blitzo’s stomach glowed underneath it, and Stolas let out a soft sigh of relief. “Good, they’re still fine.”

“And me?” Blitzo raised an eyebrow, and Stolas’s hand moved up to rest on his chest, still pulsing a gentle, warm red.

“Of course I’m worried about you too, but you can take care of yourself.” He paused, tilting his head. “Or at least I thought you could, but you might need some help, hmmm? Perhaps I should contract one of your employees to keep an eye on you.”

“Moxxie’s already halfway up my ass on a daily basis, you don’t have to do that.”

“Calls twice a week, then,” Stolas countered. “I can’t have you breaking what’s mine, can I?”

“I’m not going to fuck this up.” Blitzo crossed his arms. “Five months. I’ve been through worse than this, I don’t need a fucking babysitter.”

Stolas sighed. “Perhaps not, but I have both of your safety in mind.” He turned to return to his seat when a new owl stuck her head into the room.

“Dad, when are we going to-” Her eyes widened before narrowing into pink slits. “What are you doing here?”

Blitzo just waved with a strained grin as Stolas swept over to Octavia and pulled her into the room.

“We have some exciting news!”

“You’re turning him into the butler or something so you don’t even have to call first?" Her fingers twitched towards fists, and Blitzo held his hands up in a placating gesture.

“Hey, now-”

Stolas waved his arm towards Blitzo, as if he was a prized attraction. “We’re going to be having a child!”

Her tone dropped like a rock. “You’re what?”

#helluva boss #one time #daddy blitzo #helluva mpreg #hb #shadow writes stuff

[ushitrash]

what could have been

pairing: daichi x fem!reader

genre: angst, high school/college au

warnings: none :3

word count: 5.3k+

a/n: i wanted to write an angst that would’ve ended all angsts, but it’s been a while since i wrote one, so it’s a bit shabby. yoroshiku onegai~!

I sometimes wonder if following you around back then was worth it. By going up to you whenever I had the chance, to make my feelings a tiny bit more obvious. Maybe if I did things differently would we be better now? Worse? I can’t say for sure. Neither will you. But since when did wondering about the past make the present better, right?

-

You let out a laugh. It’s been years since everything happened. Strange for you to suddenly think about this, to talk to him in your head even though you knew he couldn’t hear you.

Was it the candle burning in the kitchen? Or the dinner you had thirty minutes ago.. No, it must have been the song that randomly queued on Spotify while you were folding your clothes.

Whatever it was, it brought you back years. Whether you liked it or not, the memories of him hit you one by one.

-

Your family moved into a new neighborhood. You weren’t particularly shy, but you weren’t obnoxiously loud, either. You were very curious, but not enough to be rude. You were trying to find the box with your plush bunnies and froggies, but you couldn’t. What could a five year old do with a taped box anyway, even if she did find it?

So you decided to ask your mom or dad, but they were outside talking to the people helping you move in. You didn’t want to bother them, so you plopped down onto the grass, eyes pointed at the sky. You heard a voice.

“What’s your name?”

You weren’t sure if they were talking to you, but you turned your head around anyway.

“Y/N.”

“Oh really? I’m Daichi. Wanna play with us?”

He pointed to two boys behind him.

You weren’t sure, but then one of them spoke up.

“We’re not scary! In fact, you’re probably stronger than Asahi.”

The last boy tried to deny it, but all that came out was stutters.

“See?,” the second boy said proudly, “Join us! We’ll show you how to build the best Lego castle ever.”

Daichi bent his knees and reached out his hand. “Wanna come?”

You nodded and grabbed his hand. He pulled you up and led you to his house, which was right next to yours.

After sitting down and drinking some juice, the loud one introduced himself.

“I’m Koushi! Koushi Sugawara. You can call me Koushi or Suga for short. Either works.”

You nod. 

“And I’m Asahi. But don’t try to scare me on purpose, because although I don’t want to admit it, I get scared easily like Suga said.”

Suga beamed. 

Daichi added, “We’re seven years old. How old are you?”

“I’m five.”

“Nice! Okay, do you like blue or red? For the first layer of the castle? You can do that first. I wanna make the bridge.”

“Suga, I think we should let her choose what she wants to do-”

You didn’t mind. You were happy, actually. 

“I’ll do the first layer! Thank you Daichi Onii-chan, Suga Onii-chan, Asahi Onii-chan hehe”

You were too busy picking out the blue Legos to notice that their faces turned red.

And well, everything was history from there.

-

Uhh..not really.

You guys grew up together. You followed the trio around everywhere you could. If you thought you were being annoying in the slightest, however, you knew to leave them alone. But that didn’t hide the fact that you were crushing on Daichi. There was no specific moment when you realized, and no moment of denial about it. It was natural for you to like him, essentially. You didn’t tell anyone, though, because he was actually pretty popular in school. Girls went up to you asking what his type was, or if you could pass on a note or snack to him for them. You didn’t mind. You guys were best friends, after all.

-

You were hoping for something different when high school started, though. Who wouldn’t? The new uniforms, bigger campus, and the cherry blossoms falling on everyone would even make a rock want to romanticize everything. So you made a promise to yourself. If he didn’t like anyone by the time he graduated, you’d confess. Maybe. Actually, you weren’t too sure for it to be a promise, but it was a start. 

-

As school started, each day was the same, yet so different. Seeing him was a routine. A regular routine might have been boring for anyone else. But for you, it wasn’t. If you were panicking about the textbook you left at home, he’d ask someone for you and place it in your locker. If he saw you looking at the vending machine disappointingly, he’d open your hand and place a few quarters on it so you can buy the juice box. If you were running to the cafeteria with your friends, and accidentally trip on your own feet, he’d catch that too. He’d give you a bandage and ask if your knee is alright before class would start.

-

You knew that he knows you best. You knew that he always looks out for you. Because you’re his younger sister. So you forced it down. Don’t think about it in that way. He’d also act that way towards Suga and Asahi if they were girls. 

But you noticed him and his surroundings, too. You saw the girl who asked if she could meet him outside after school because she had something to say. You saw another girl purposely trying to get his attention by faking a headache. And you saw that girl slipping a note in his locker with a hopeful look on her face. You wouldn’t mind if it stopped at that. But it’s Daichi we’re talking about here. Patient, kind, and generous. He gave all of those girls the time and attention they were seeking. Because he’s nice. 

-

The first semester was a few weeks short of being finished, and it was almost time for finals. You had a habit of tugging a piece of hair whenever you were stressed, and yes, you were doing that habit of yours while reading your notebook in the empty classroom. You heard a knock on the open door, so you looked up.

“My oh my, look who it is. Ain’t it Queen of Pulling All My Hair Out Before a Test Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Suga, maybe you can’t see with those terrible eyes of yours, but I’m clearly trying to study here.”

He laughed.

“I know you hate me for saying this, but I will never stop even when I die. You need to chill sometimes.”

“Then don’t say it!”

“Ok well, I wasn’t going to stay long anyways, because I have to go to volleyball practice.”

“Have fun. Imma go to your house, take your place, and stuff myself at dinner.”

He stuck a tongue out at you.

“Wait, before I leave. I have something else to say.”

“Go ahead.”

“Suck it up and tell Daichi already.”

You tried to play it off by asking what he was talking about.

“Oh, I know. So don’t act like you don’t have a soft spot for him. We only have one semester left before we leave, and with all these girls flocking towards him, it’ll be a matter of time before he says yes to one of them.”

You didn’t try to deny it. If Daichi was the caring one, Suga was the all-knowing, teasing one. 

“But you know he doesn’t see me in that way.”

“You never know. Daichi and I don’t share every single little thought we have, you know. Do you want to see him spend his time with a random girl we’ve never talked to? You don’t. I don’t either. I’d rather have you next to him way more than someone else.”

You just looked down at your notebook, not realizing you underlined the definition of an acid base redox reaction a countless number of times. 

“Maybe,” you whispered.

“I can’t hear you. The Y/N I know does not give up on things she wants.”

“Alright, alright. Hurry up and go to volleyball.”

He smiled and walked out of the classroom.

You let out a breath. You didn’t know what to do. But you knew Suga was right. You had to do something.

-

Finals were over and winter break started. You tried to make your feelings more obvious to him. The four of you went hiking on a snowy mountain. You packed him an extra hand warmer. The boys practiced volleyball while you watched. You gave only him a towel. There were also anime nights at your place, but Asahi would always be the first one to fall asleep so those nights ended quickly. But you still bid good night to Daichi a bit sweeter than to the other two. He was very attentive to you, but not to the extent of noticing those details,

The new semester started, and things were pretty much the same. Daichi got confessions every week, while you just watched. He still took time out of his day to make sure you were alright, and if you needed anything. You honestly thought your efforts weren’t making a difference, but you still tried. You made sure to go to all of their volleyball games. When he hugged you after each one, you made sure to hug him back an extra bit harder. On Valentine’s Day, you made him brownies, while you gave the other two store-bought chocolate. You hoped the other two didn’t notice. But in fact they did. Daichi was the only one who didn’t.

-

Weeks passed. Then it was the day you were dreading the most. Their graduation day. You sat among the audience, biting your lip from the nervousness. Even throughout the ceremony, you couldn’t pay attention, because you were thinking of all the reactions he could ever give you to your confession. You were shaking your leg so hard that your mom sitting next to you put her hand on it to make it stop. It seemed only five minutes passed, but all of a sudden the ceremony was over. You stood up to go outside and to wait for the graduates to go to their families.

You were pacing back and forth, tugging a piece of your hair, and biting your lip when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You jump from the surprise, and you hear a laugh from behind you.

“I’m sorry for scaring you. Is something on your mind? I could see you pacing even from inside the building.”

You knew it was him. The hand gave him away. The gentle, yet sturdy feeling that comforted you immediately. You turned around.

“Congrats Daichi! I’m so proud of you. Don’t forget all of us when you’re at college, okay?”

He laughs. “I’ve never said this, but I miss you calling me Onii-chan. Why don’t you do that anymore?”

“It’s weird and embarrassing to say that in high school,” you say with a blush.

He smiles at you again.

There was a pause. Which was strange because there were no pauses ever between you two. 

He cleared his throat.

The both of you said something at the same time. But being the gentleman he was, he insisted you go first.

But you were scared. This was foreign. You guys were never awkward, so that pause scared you.

“No, you go first. We’re celebrating you today, so it’s rude for me to interrupt you.”

“Haha alright. Well..We still have the summer, but I’ll miss you a lot when I leave, Y/N.”

You nod.

“Please be honest. Have you ever thought of me as more than.. friends?”

You were speechless. Never in a million years did you expect him to bring this topic up first.

You hesitated. You didn’t know why. You knew you had to say something, but words wouldn’t form.

“If not, then forget me asking. I don’t know what came over me-”

“Wait-”

“DAICHI~~! WE’RE GOING TO TAKE A FAMILY PICTURE!”

He looked back to his family, and turned back to you.

“Talk to you later?”

You nodded slowly, and he left.

You sat down on the grass dumbfounded.

Why didn’t you say anything? It seemed like there was something there. A sliver of hope in his voice when he asked you. But now it just seemed like he was the fool for asking. No. You needed to tell him how you felt, so you stood up and jogged to where he was. But of course. You’re too late, like always. Girls surrounded him, giving him flowers, candy, etc. You stood from afar, watching him thank them.

-

You went back home after the day was over. It was quite hectic, because of all of the picture taking and the dinner afterwards. You were actually so tired that you would’ve slept right away once you went to your room, but you heard someone call you as you were taking your shoes off at the front door.

“Y/N?”

Your head turned to the voice.

“I’m sorry we were interrupted earlier. Do you have time now?”

There he was. Still in his dress shirt and pants. You smiled at him. “Of course.”

You guys walked to the park five minutes away from your houses and sat on the nearest bench.

There was another pause.

“Um,” you say first. It seemed like he was intending for you to speak before he did.

So you continued.

“I don’t know what you think, Daichi. Despite you being the easiest man to read, I still can’t read you. Even though I’ve known you the longest, besides Suga and Asahi, I get confused every day. But however you respond, I want to tell you this before you leave.”

You took a deep breath.

“I like you. I’ve always liked you. Ever since that day you pulled me up so we could make that Lego castle. I liked you even more when you helped me find my plush toys I thought I lost. I liked you even when you left for middle school while I was still in 5th grade. You still helped me with my homework even though it was obvious other boys wanted you to play volleyball with them. I still liked you even when girls would come up to me asking what your ideal type was. I still liked you even though you spent hours day in and out at volleyball, not knowing when you’d finish. I wanted to make every single thing you did for me special. Even though I knew that I’m just a little sister to you.”

You were trying so hard not to see his reaction. You didn’t even know what to expect from him. Shock? Disappointment? Regret? Or maybe something else?

“So I tried to do something about it. Because I know if I didn’t, then I’ll regret not doing anything. I don’t know if you noticed or not, but all those little things I did just for you were to show you my feelings.”

You felt a hand on your head. You turned to him and he has a look on his face you’ve never seen before. A look you couldn’t decipher even though you knew him for 10+ years.

“I did notice, Y/N.”

He noticed.

“How could I not? You were always greedy with the hand warmers, and you said you didn’t like approaching guys who were sweaty. You would also be the next one to fall asleep after Asahi at your house, but you would be wide awake even after the anime was done. You only baked brownies for your parents, and once in three years for us. So when I saw that Suga and Asahi got chocolate, how could I not notice?”

You looked down at your hands that were picking at the hem of your skirt.

“But I’m sorry.”

You couldn’t help but lift your head to face him.

“I’m afraid I can’t return your feelings.”

Tears you held for who knows how long slipped down your face.

“I’m being a jerk just by saying this, but could you wait for me?” You were confused. He was never a jerk, and he will never be one.

“What do you mean?” “I don’t want to make a promise that will eventually hurt both of us. But could you wait for me until after you graduate high school?”

You understood, so you nodded.

He squeezed your hand. “Good girl.”

He always called you that whenever you did something right. When you aced your tests, or finally understood a concept you were struggling with for weeks. When you bragged that you did your laundry early this week instead of dragging it on until you had no clothes left. When you helped pick up the volleyballs whenever the trio would practice at the park by themselves. 

But what was so right about pushing your feelings down yet again? He stood up and said one last thing before suggesting going back home.

“You’ll always be the one for me, you know that Y/N?”

Of course. His sister, his friend. Someone who’d listen to everything on his mind, no matter how random and small it was.

“I was always happy when you started school with us. But we’d leave after one year, and you’d be alone again. That part made me sad, but we still hung out often, right?”

Right. But would he know that those two years in elementary and middle school, and now high school, were harder on you?

“But now we’re leaving you again. I’m sorry. That we were born two years apart.”

The tears kept streaming down.

“But it’s different now,” you managed to mutter.

He bent down before you and wiped your tears away.

“I know.. But I’ll come home every summer and winter break, so I’ll make sure to bother you then. Bother you so much that you’d want me to move permanently back to Tokyo.”

He somehow knew how to make you laugh, and you did. And as you guys were leaving the park and heading home, you forgot the past conversation and acted like nothing happened.

“I’d never say that to you.”

“Oh, but you definitely would to Suga and Asahi.”

“I wouldn’t to Asahi! He’s so nice to me.”

“Haha, I’m telling Suga.”

“Ugh, he’s going to give me the silent treatment for years.”

And you both laughed, because that’s who you guys were. Friends who made each other feel better.

-

Five years later.

Another graduation. Except it was in Tokyo. This one was bigger, louder, and longer. And this time, you changed. It wasn’t a day full of being nervous and anxious. Despite the loud environment, you were calm and composed. When Daichi’s name was called, you cheered for him, but not how you would’ve five years ago. You still loved him, but not in that way anymore. You were different, and he was too.

-

You were researching colleges to apply to in your senior year. You weren’t sure which ones, because there were too many that all looked the same to you. Part of you wanted to stay home, because that was safe and comfortable to you. Another part wanted you to leave. Tokyo? Kyoto? Maybe even somewhere else entirely? But then Daichi called you, asking how school was going, and he suggested you visit his college and see how it was. Five year old you would’ve had no hesitation. 18 year old you did. But you said yes anyway, because you were curious about the school, and him.

-

You pull your suitcase out from the trunk of the taxi, and you see him jogging towards you.

“Y/N,” he said as he hugged you.

“Daichi-”

“Give me the suitcase. I’ll take it.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you.”

“Did you grow taller?”

“I think like 5 cm? Not that much haha”

“I knew it. You look like you’re doing well.”

“You too.”

His hair was a bit longer. He wore clothes he didn’t usually before. It’s been a while since you saw him, so it was obvious he looked different.

“I told my kouhai to meet us at the front of the college entrance. She’s pretty excited to meet you.”

“Oh, that’s nice. I hope I’m not bothering her by staying at her place.”

“Don’t worry about that at all. She doesn’t mind in the slightest.”

There was something else that changed about him that you didn’t want to admit.

You should’ve realized when he said he couldn’t come back for winter break that year. And the summer break after that. And the winter break after that. He was busy, he said. And you believed him, because the Daichi you knew never lied. 

But you admit now that he’s changed, and the look on his face when he talked about that girl was new. He never looked like that when you saw him getting chocolates from other girls. Heck, he never even talked to you like that before. 

But you reminded yourself that the main reason why you agreed to go was to see the school. And if this kouhai was someone reliable who could answer any question you had about the school, then so be it. 

You met her at the college entrance as promised, and she was indeed happy to see you. 

She was pretty, kind, and generous. Characteristics mirrored in Daichi. You couldn’t hate her or be jealous of her. She made sure you had answers to every question you had, food that you really enjoyed, and a place to call home for the next few days. After the first day of touring around, you both went to the dorm and got ready to sleep.

“How was everything today?”

“It was fun! It’s not like I didn’t have any expectations, but I understand why Daichi chose here and how happy he is.”

“Right? It’s so nice here. You’re so lucky to have known Daichi-san for a long time.”

“Haha, yeah, he’s a really great person.”

“He is! He’s really popular, too. You can tell by the crowd of girls waiting outside of his classroom so they can talk to him.”

Oh wow, I guess girls are the same everywhere you go.

“How did you guys meet?”

“Oh, I wasn’t sure what to major at the time, but my friend’s boyfriend is a friend of his, so he helped me find what I wanted to do. We became friends after that.”

But you could tell that in her eyes that she wanted him to be more than that.

“If Daichi is so popular, why isn’t he dating anyone?”

You knew him well, but you still wanted to prod.

“He always laughs it off whenever someone asks him, saying he’s not wanting anything like that.”

You nod. 

“Also, the only girl he actually talks most about is you.”

You were pulling out your skincare products from your suitcase but stopped mid-motion.

“Me? Why?”

“Oh, he’s so proud of you. All of his friends know about you, because he shares all your achievements with us. Anyone can tell he adores you a lot.”

You were guilty. It was obvious he liked her, and she liked him, but you were the one in between because of what you said two years ago.

“Haha, it’s nothing. I’m just a little sister he never had. That’s weird and gross if people misunderstand things between us,” you said as you fake laughed it off.

You said you’re going to the bathroom and shut the door. You weren’t sure how to feel, and you didn’t like the uncertainty. After a few minutes, you made your mind that you were going to talk to him about this tomorrow.

-

You pulled Daichi away from the crowd and sat him on a chair.

“What’s wrong? Is something bothering you?”

“No. Well kinda, but not in the way you’re thinking.”

He had a confused look on his face.

You sat next to him.

“You like her, don’t you.”

If you didn’t know him well, you wouldn’t have noticed the blush on his cheeks. But you did.

“No, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You sighed out of frustration and said, “She likes you, too.”

“What?”

“If you’re trying to ignore your true feelings because of what we said two years ago, you can forget the past conversation.”

“What do you mean-”

You stood up and faced him. You were getting a bit angry at him, which was a first.

“I don’t want to be the one blocking you from doing what you want to do. Okay? Who am I to make you stuck in the past even though you never even saw me in that way? Are you doing this to hold your reputation? That you’re Daichi and you have to keep promises because that’s who you are? Don’t. Because I don’t like you anymore. And I will never ever like someone who is so fixated on the past even though they didn’t mean what they said. And get it right. The only reason I came here was to see the school, not you. I was too selfish and annoying my first year of high school, and if I had the chance, I would’ve never said those things to you. Never would I have made you brownies if I knew you were like this now. But I can’t regret anything, because there’s no use in that. So just tell her you like her already, because I can’t stand being in the middle of you guys.”

He was hurt. You knew that look. That look whenever he lost a volleyball game. That look whenever he lost something important to him. You knew at that moment he lost you. That whatever he was thinking and feeling before this was gone. Because of what you said. The things you spat out that you didn’t mean. 

He stood up.

“I’m sorry you felt that way. And for breaking the promise I made to you that day. Whatever happens, I still care for you a ton, Y/N. You know that you’ll always be number one to me. No matter what happens, if you call, I’ll run to you first. Okay?”

Lies. You knew they were lies. Since when did he get so good at lying?

But you nodded, because that’s what he wanted you to hear. 

So you turned around and left first. You continued the next few days without him, exploring the campus, and meeting new people. It was a really good school, but you decided it wasn’t for you.

After the trip, you were unpacking your suitcase when you found a bag with your name on it.

You opened it, and there was a candle. A note on it said, “I admire your candle collection. I hope you can use this one next?”

Then there was a gift card to a restaurant you tried in Tokyo when you were 10 that you really liked. “I heard that you liked their food. When you visit me, call me, so we can eat together.”

Then there was a CD. “Your favorite singer came to sing live on campus, so I thought I’d buy you the recording. I hope we can listen to it together soon.”

And one last note fluttered out of the bag when you shook it.

“I was planning to give these to you when you graduated, but I think I was looking too far ahead. I know these aren’t much, but it’d be a lie saying that I wasn’t looking forward to what could’ve been. I know I didn’t give you a direct answer that day, but I guess I’ll write it down here. I liked you, too. And more than just friends. I didn’t say anything because you deserve the world, if not more. When you confessed, I felt like the world was on my side, but not completely, because I was leaving for Tokyo soon then. I also couldn’t say anything because I knew you’d be hurting alone without me next to you. I was surprised when you told me that I like her. Because I was sure that I liked you. I’m sorry that you were the one to point it out to me. And it’s true I was fixated on the past, because that’s where you were to me. But I can move on now. I’m glad you moved on before I did. And, what I said earlier is true. You’ll always be first to me. If you’re sick, I’ll run to Miyagi even if I have to. Because that’s who you are in my life. Let’s keep in touch, okay?

Love, Daichi.”

Your eyes blurred. Of course, he’d do this. He always brought you back souvenirs from his vacations before. Why did you think he wouldn’t this time?

What you said to him a few days ago were all lies. You still liked him, and you did want to visit the school to see him. Even if he wasn’t nice to you all those years, you still would’ve made him brownies and listened to everything he had to say. You would never regret liking him ever. But you knew it was over. You couldn’t go back on your words even if your life depended on it, because it would hurt him.

-

You were sandwiched between Suga and Asahi during the graduation ceremony. Suga was being loud as always, so your right ear was getting busted. You were pleading to Asahi quietly to switch seats with you, but for some reason, he just wouldn’t make eye contact with you. 

Anyway, the ceremony ended so everyone was leaving. You guys decided to meet Daichi outside the venue near the grass area. He came after a few minutes.

“Guys!”

You were happy to see him. He was happy and content. Even more so that you’ve seen him before. But then you saw someone else behind him.

It was her, and they were holding hands. And there was a ring on her finger. You thought you were over it. You believed the lie you told yourself until you saw them. But you knew you couldn’t cry. It was their day, not yours. After talking for a bit, you excused yourself to the bathroom when you couldn’t see them anymore.

You stare at the mirror.

Why her? Not you? You were always there for him, yet he chose someone he only knew for one year. And now they’re already engaged. You felt dumb for liking your childhood friend. Out of all the possibilities, you were the side character of a movie.

After washing your face with water, you left the bathroom.

“Y/N.”

And of course Suga was waiting for you.

“Hey, did you need to use the bathroom, too?”

“Why are you acting so tough? Especially in front of me?”

“You know I have to be. Or else Daichi..”

“Whatever he feels, it’s not his responsibility to worry about you now.”

That hurt you.

You mustered up a smile and said, “Can we go get food? Just the three of us? Daichi probably wants to spend time with her more than us.”

He laughed. “Do you still have that gift card for that restaurant you were constantly raving about since you were 10? I, Koushi Sugawara, need to know what it was that made Y/N fall in love.”

“Hey, it’s my gift card, not yours!”

“Well, it’s ours now.”

You roll your eyes. At least you still had them two. 

-

You realized you turned on the TV, but you weren’t watching any of it. You stood up and blew out the candle and turned off the song. Of course there were days, in fact years, when you reminisced about what could have been if it weren’t for what you said to him that day in Tokyo. But you knew he was happy now. Whenever you visited them, they were happy. His children were happy. But you couldn’t help and wonder what would have happened if you did something differently. You couldn’t help but ask yourself “What could have been?” 

#haikyuu #daichi #haikyuu angst #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #daichi x reader

[dongiovannaswife]

400 followers!

Count your last blessings; Don!Giorno Giovanna x Donna!Reader

summary: that's how Mafia works (literally). When the union of two gangs brings the interest and discomfort of a traitor, Giorno and (Y/n) won't doubt on showing who rules the underworld.

Warning: a bit of torture, blood, language, death of a character.

Side note: this is the milestone for the 400 followers! Thank you so much to all the people who's there 💕 I wanted to write a power couple for this one and since I've been flirting with this idea for MONTHS I finally decided to write it. Special thanks to @naranciabestboi for encouraging me! 💞 you're an angel.

Feedback is always appreciated.

The room was dark, the only dim light illuminating the unconscious man on the chair, his arms and legs attached to the wood by chains, his head hanging in an angle that advertised how much his neck would hurt when he woke up.

Or when they decided to wake him up. And not in a sweet way.

In the shadows, sitting in a box alongside Alessandro Esposito, who toyed with a cigarette in one hand and a lighter in the other, was Guido Mista, his own gun on his hand, lazily pointing at the target in the chair. Not so far from the gunslinger was Pietro Li Fonti, who drank now and then from the vodka bottle on his hand; Panacotta Fugo stood at the other side of the room, the back of the man on the chair facing him, Fugo was close to the door, having been told to stay there until they came back.

Out of the creepy dark room, besides the door, with the light being almost blinding, waiting patiently stood Giorno Giovanna; the slim boy who took over Passione 12 years ago now gone as the tall man towered besides everybody, the only thing one could recognize from his old self was the braid. The white suit hugged his figure, making him look like an angel. A powerful and dangerous angel who could become the emperor of the world if he wanted. Still, he choosed only one country. And that's how he would stay.

His eyes held the same calm from before, a shadow of maturity making the edges darker, almost a deep green.

The door at the other side of the corridor was opened by the hand of a tiny boy, Paolo Mazzi. This boy was the definition of «appearances can be deceiving» even with his 145 centimeters he was as deadly as the long dead Risotto Nero. His age wasn't in correspondence with his height: 28 years old. This man was the bodyguard of the woman who appeared carrying the authority and power on her shoulders as if she was born with them; truth be told, she was. Even before she was born her father had already planned her life as the donna of the gang; Uroboros. Second most powerful gang in all Italy. Dressed in a black cocktail dress, high heels on and that mysterious glance dragging his attention instantly, the friendly nod from Paolo almost unnoticed as she got closer, her heels sounding in the scary silence of the long abandoned factory.

"Don." She muttered sweetly, the intimidating glance now gone as her eyes held a deep admiration and love.

"Donna." He answered in the same tone, closing the space between them, his hand found his way on her waist, the fabric of the dress cold against his big calloused hand. A kiss exchanged between the lovers; lingering, sensual but still loving. Despite the way they met, the situation was far from the one from that time and now, Passione and Uroboros had plans to unite with the marriage of the leaders.

However, someone wasn't pleased with this, the alliance of the two most powerful mafias in all Italy wasn't a good augury for someone who planned on taking over the second most powerful. Uroboros didn't had half of the power Passione did, but it certainly had potential. Even more than Passione.

Godfrey Alighieri was the poor bastard on the chair. The traitor who was trying to drag the most trusted men on Passione and Uroboros at his side, the man who slept on the chair.

The door sounded with three knocks in a certain rhythm and Fugo, after confirming the message, opened the door.

The first one on entering was (Y/n), Pietro nodded with a genuine smile, Alessandro waving distractingly at the two leaders. Her response was a nod, the heels alerting of the way she was taking. Following close behind her was Giorno; Mista nodded and Fugo gave him a handshake. As Paolo entered, being the last one after confirming the other guards outside, the door closed; Fugo and him stood at the door, guarding.

Giorno watched as (Y/n) toyed with the gun attached to her thigh, taking off the security on the gun, her eyes turning a bit to find his already fixed in her. Even in the dark, the diamond as eyes of the don shone bright. Enough to let her see them. Giorno nods and Paolo whistles, playfully commenting. "Get a room, you two."

Mista snorts and (Y/n) looks back at Paolo, a smile making it's way on her lips. The gun's suddenly on the air, pointing at the ceiling. "Time to wake him up."

The gun ends up pointing at his knee. She pulls the trigger.

Godfrey Alighieri wakes up with a scream as the pain sends a shot of adrenaline through his system. Everyone stays silent.

"Buongiorno, signore."

Godfrey growls, trying to bend over to check on his injury, however, Megadeth controls his spine, making him stay still.

"I've heard the rumors that came true." She says, the gun back at her thigh. "Did you knew about them, my dear capo?"

Godfrey snarls, whispering something indulging her mom. "Mhm, I knew you would say that. So, I brought with me your biggest fear; Pietro Li Fonti. Do you remember him? Yes, just like you and everyone in this room, he's a stand user. His stand has always terrified you. You told me that after he joined, remember?" She does some gestures, "he's a monster, how could someone's soul be so putrid to the point their stand can transform blood into acid?" Pointing at him, the woman sends a cold glare at the brunette man. "Now, this isn't about your comfort. Right now, you're wishing death, a quick, painless death. But truth be told, you damaged the honor of one of my men."

Megadeth, (Y/n)'s stand, forces Godfrey's arm bones to brake.

As Godfrey screams, she keeps talking. "You'll see, Godfrey, every since I was a little girl I've been around the family business. The first time I saw my dad torturing a man I was (…) seven. When I asked him why he was cutting off that poor man fingers, he looked at me like the next pray of a predator. Then he looked at me like he did always and explained to me the thing that would change my mind and perception of Uroboros: honor. We're men of honor, Mr. Godfrey. And you killed one of my men when he refused to join your stupid rebellion."

The screams echoes in the room as Godfrey's spine broke under the influence of the stand. "Now, now." A piece of paper ended on his mouth as a ball, forcing back his screams. "You didn't just went with killing him fast and without suffering; you asked his family for money and silence; you told his husband to don't say anything to me, you asked for a money he didn't had and even if he did the impossible and actually paid, you killed him."

Godfrey tries to breath right, to process her words and talk, but the pain was suffocating, the paper on his mouth making his tries to breath almost impossible.

With an exuberant force, and the pain sending a jolt of adrenaline to his system, Godfrey manages to throw the ball out of his mouth, looking up at her, the man's eyes fill with tears and regret. "Please, heal my spine. Y-you can do it! Your stand is capable of doing it."

Turning a strand of her hair, she seems bored but her voice and the glance she throws at him it's enough for Godfrey to feel like he's going to shit his pants.

"It can. But I don't want to."

Godfrey's face turns red with anger, his stand out in the blink of an eye; she's on his range. Godfrey's Muse launches at her.

But stops midway.

"Your Muse is useless against Megadeath." It's a death statement, a letter sent from hell and signed by the devil itself.

Suddenly, a raspy and almost scary voice sounds from the dark as a man, tall and blond, steps out of the shadows.

"All your efforts are useless."

Giorno Giovanna.

He steps behind her, his big hand resting on her waist; pressing a kiss to her head, he still glares at the scared man on the chair. As he speaks, the aura around him turns darker at every second and Godfrey almost forgets his legs, arms and spine are broken, his body being held at the chair by the little and lethal stand of the donna.

"Not only you killed one of her men, you also betrayed her trust. Our trust."

Stepping in front of him, the Don's eyes seem gold, his own stand present. "Your actions aren't based on truth, not even in evil; you're trying to be something you can't be, something you will never get the chance to."

Godfrey laughs, a wholeheartedly laugh. He's about to speak when a string of blood runs down his lips, following his jaw.

When the liquid reaches the floor, the cement underneath it melts; it's not longer blood but acid.

Pietro Li Fonti grips the vodka bottle, "I paid you and you still killed him."

Mista places a hand on his shoulder, Pietro looks at him with so much sadness and grief the gunslinger gifts him a knowing smile. "Let them start, then he's all yours. (Y/n) said that, remember?"

Pietro nods, his red hair covering his eyes. Party Poison no longer on Godfrey's system.

Giorno looks back at his fiancée, throwing an accomplished glance. She nods, now standing besides him.

With a smirk and his voice turning teasing, he asks. "What should we do with him, Donna?"

She sends a wink on his direction, then her eyes are fixed on Godfrey's forehead as his bones on that area start deforming until the skin breaks and the Uroboros sign stands proud; Godfrey can't talk, his jaw is closed, forced to be like this until they finish.

"What we do with traitors."

#thank you! 💞 #giorno giovanna x reader #fem s/o #sfw #sensitive topic #don giorno #jjba vento aureo #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyō na bōken #scenario #not a request #follower milestone #theres a lot of references please find them

[velmalav]

sister: part two {r.t.}

warnings: angst

synopsis: continuation of part one. reader is brian may’s sister and roger is secretly in love with her.

word count: 2.8k+

***

  Tomorrow arrives in the blink of an eye. You stand outside of Roger’s flat with your hands in the pockets of your denim jacket, tapping a boot against the sidewalk. The sun is just rising – sky a pastel yellow and blue, the dreary morning air dewy and cold. You bask in the emerging sunlight until Brian’s car rounds the corner, instantly instilling a slight panic in the pit of your stomach. The feeling only worsens as he pulls up to the curb and steps from the vehicle, his body language less than welcoming.

 “Bit early for this,” he complains, but holds his arms out to hug you anyway. You fall into him immediately, nose buried into his chest. His heart is beating equally as fast as yours, giving you a little peace of mind.

 “I’m so sorry I let you down, Bri,” you spout immediately, unable to hold back the word vomit. You spent the whole night thinking of what you would say to him, yet you threw all those plans out the window the second your mouth opened. “I should’ve told you as soon as I’d made up my mind about school. There’s just been so much happening and I didn’t want to disappoint you. And telling Roger before you, God that was so stupid and I didn’t even mean to, but he knew something was up and I couldn’t-”

 “Y/N, take a breath, would you?” Brian murmurs, a slight chuckle leaving his lips at your rambling. He curls his hands around your arms and pulls you from him, his features gentle now. “As upset as I was and still am, I was too harsh on you yesterday. I’m sorry for some of the things I said, for making you stay with Rog. I needed time to cool off.”

 “I know,” you sigh, cheeks flushing in exasperation. “But you were right to be angry. I fucked up.”

 Brian cringes at your swearing, but doesn’t vocalize his distaste. “I hope this means you’ve thought about going back next term. I’d still like you to go back to school. It’s what’s best for you right now.”

 Your face drops at his assumption, eyes darting to the pavement. Always the observant one, your brother picks up on your body language - and he definitely knows that your minds are in entirely different places, yet he patiently waits for you to admit it. 

  “Actually, I don’t think it is. I’m going in blind, Bri, and everything just feels like a waste. What’s the point of going to school if I’m going to hate whatever it is I end up doing?” 

 “Then what are your plans, your highness? I hate to be the one to remind you how impractical this all is, what truly, what do you expect? The world to just stop and wait for you?” Brian questions, the same tone he used yesterday slowly resurfacing.

 This time; however, you understand where he’s coming from. You know he only wants the best for you, and you know that your situation is undeniably impractical. Besides, you can only imagine how frustrating it must be for your sibling to tell you they’ve given up on their seemingly bright future for one completely unknown.

 “I was hoping you’d have me on tour for now,” you begin, earning a double eyebrow raise and quiet scoff from Brian. It’s a lot to ask, especially the morning of, so the lingering acidity radiating off him now is far from surprising.

  “I don’t know what you want me to say, Y/N,” Brian exhales. And although his aura screams, ‘you’re utterly demented,’ you can feel the gears turning in his head. He’s actually considering it. 

  “Think about it, Bri. Our family is all about music. Dad worked for a record company, Grandma competed in all of those singing competitions, hell, even mum played the guitar for her girl band back in the day. Maybe that’s why nothing’s speaking to me! I could just watch behind the scenes and figure everything out and see what appeals to me the most.”

 Brian grunts in frustration, hands traveling to rest on his hips and his head lowers to face the ground. When he looks back to you, his eyes are austere. “And what if you’re still unsure even after tour? What will you do then?”

  Now the gears are turning in your own head, but the solution is clear. “I’ll go back to school. Just like you want me to,” Brian’s demeanor perks up.

  “You’re serious about this,” he says it merely to convince himself, though you confirm it with a nod. 

“As long as you’ll have me along. Just one chance is all I’m asking for.” In an act of compromise, you hold out your hand as if you’re in the midst of closing an important business deal.

  Brian rolls his eyes and takes your hand in his, giving it a good shake. “Alright, you’ve got yourself a deal,” he concedes, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “But you’re going to be the one to tell mum. Even if you somehow find your true calling and become a bloody billionaire in the next seven months, she’s still going to murder both of us.”

 You draw in a sharp breath at the mere thought of ringing her. “Yeah, that’s a conversation I can’t wait to have.”

 Brian shrugs, a mockingly casualness washing over him. “Might want to wait until we’re a safe distance away before you make that call, sis.”

.

 You decide to ride back to Brian’s with him after your chat, not so much as a word to Roger before you go. You know he’s still asleep, but the thought of him waking up alone ignites a sinking feeling in your chest. The feeling only perpetuates as you remember the other thing you need to disclose with your brother.

 “Hey, Bri,” you murmur, head lolling against your seat. Brian’s eyes flicker over to you and then return to the road, humming in acknowledgement. “You’re not still angry at Rog, are you?”

 Brian sighs as he turns right at a red light. “No, no. I mean it’s still a bit frustrating that he never told me, but I guess I understand. Probably should apologize to him, too, shouldn’t I?”

 “Yeah, maybe,” you reply, hands a bit sweaty as you take a deep breath. Now or never. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about actually. About him,” you continue, watching his reaction closely.

 “If it’s about what I said about you two getting too close, I’m sorry if that was awkward for you,” Brian apologizes again, teeth nipping at his bottom lip. You can tell he’s still milling over everything that happened yesterday. 

  Your mouth opens to diffuse his words, but he’s not finished. “Rog is family. I want you to feel comfortable telling him things, too. I know he’s like a second brother to you.”

 You deflate, the sudden rush of confidence crushing under the weight of one single sentence. “Wouldn’t call him that, but yeah, I guess we’re close,” you whisper, scared that if you speak any louder Brian will hear the disappointment in your voice.

  “Close is an understatement. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you guys were attached at the hip since birth,” Brian’s chuckling now, and you know he means it to be sweet, but you can’t help the intense tremble that runs down your back at his words. Somehow you manage to change the subject physically, even if your head is still mentally repeating the words “brother” and “attached since birth” over and over again. 

 The remainder of the car ride is tense, or at least to you it is. Brian doesn’t even notice and fills you in on the first show tonight in Manchester, but you’re hardly listening. 

  Your head is swimming in the memories of the previous night. Roger’s forbearing touch as he held you to him, fingertips running along your clothed stomach, eyes boring into yours as he told you all of the things he looked forward to for tour, one of them being having you along. His glowing smile as he did so. The way he would dip his head down to pepper heavy kisses on you, especially on the places where your skin tinted red.

  It all felt so right last night, so why did all of it suddenly feel so wrong?

.

  The tour bus is massive compared to the little cars passing it on the street, all black save for a splash of grey across the side. You, Brian, and Freddie are standing just outside of it waiting for Roger to show up. John’s already inside chatting with the driver. 

  “I’m absolutely delighted you decided to come along with us!” Freddie exclaims, pulling you in for a hug. You laugh against his shoulder as he pinches your ass, and with a wet peck on your cheek, releases you. 

  You turn to see Brian cocking a warning eyebrow at his band mate, to which Freddie responds with a wink. “Too bad I’ve got Mary with such a pretty little thing in my orbit,” he teases further, a hand slipping around your shoulder. 

 “Hands to yourself, Fred,” Brian forewarns, but he’s smiling to signal that he’s caught on to the joke.

  “I don’t know if I can help myself, Bri,” Freddie dramatically gushes, his hand snaking into your braid. You roll your eyes with a fleeting laugh, wrapping an arm around his waist to further the teasing.

 In a cruel twist of fate, Roger approaches from behind Brian, a giddy expression already on his face at the sight of you. He unfurls his arms like he’s about to request a hug when Brian cuts him off with a, “My sister’s off limits to everyone, if I have to remind you lot,” mainly at Fred, unknowingly informing the man behind him as well.

 Roger’s face falls, arms descending to his sides. You simply stare down at the concrete to avoid his disheartening gaze. Your mind is racing. You are the one that initiated this, you think, and now you are the one ending it just as quickly. Your eyes are still fixated on your shoes when Roger finally speaks, voice a lot more chipper than expected. “Y/N’s joining us?” as if he didn’t know.

 Brian nods, leaning against the tour bus. You glance up with a fake smile, one only Roger sees past as he practically drags you into a hug. His lips touch your ear, tone low, “Off limits to everyone?” he mutters, and as to not draw suspicion, forces an eager smile to his face when you break away.

 You sadly stare at him, swallowing hard. When you’re sure the other boys aren’t looking, you mouth a quick apology, one he furrows his eyebrows at. John clambers down the steps of the bus and waves you all in, and as you file up and inside, you feel the familiar touch of Roger’s hand on your lower back. There’s an unspoken rigidity between you two – which is not surprising – as the bus rolls down the street, and you know you’re in for a stressful night.

.

 You don’t realize just how chaotic things can be before a show until you are tossed into the middle of it. People run past you left and right, speaking orders to one another and dragging equipment from backstage to onstage, while others are double checking the lighting and sound. Everyone is so enveloped in their work that they don’t even notice you observing it all, peering over shoulders and even asking the less busy workers quick questions. It’s a madhouse, but it has certainly sparked your interest. The only thing uncertain is where to start.

  When you run out of employees to annoy, you back yourself into a corner near the lighting deck. Your eyes follow the operator’s fingers as he memorizes his cues, his eyes stuttering on certain pages as his motions ghost over the controls. You stand on your tiptoes to get a better look at the page layout, to see if you could possibly understand the directions, but it’s too far out of reach.

 You huff a bit and lean back against the wall, eyes drifting around the backstage area. Speakers are being rolled on carts, pieces of Roger’s drum kit also being moved to the stage. Your focus follows it, imagining it all set up, drumsticks pounding down on the cylinders, beer flying up. You remember seeing Roger doing that years before, at the only gig you ever witnessed Smile play. At first, you deemed it gross (mainly because Roger would jump off the stage and try to hug you while he was all sticky), but the more you thought about it, the more it intrigued you. 

 You’re so far in your thoughts that you almost don’t hear Roger approach. “Anything catching your eye?” 

 His features are impossibly still as he stares over at you, arms folded across his chest. You look to him wearily, a nervous pounding erupting in your stomach. There’s a moment of unexpressed tension that you swallow down swiftly; you hate confrontation, and you really don’t know what to expect from him right now.

 You shrug. “Not yet. It’s pretty crazy right now.”

 “Always is,” Roger says as he steps closer. He takes a quick look around, presumably to check if any of the boys are around, and then turns his complete attention to you. “Maybe next show we can get here earlier before all of the madness, so you can check everything out.”

 “I’d like that,” a smile wanes at the ends of your lips, but deep down, you’re confused. 

  Why was he being so normal? After all, you did spend a four hour bus ride acting like he wasn’t sitting five feet away from you, like he hadn’t had you in his arms ten hours before, like everything was exactly how it had been the morning before.

 Roger’s eyes flicker from yours down to your lips, and just like you’d expected from the beginning of this exchange, his expression falters. “I’m guessing your conversation with Brian didn’t go exactly as planned.”

 You sigh, shaking your head. “No, not really. I went to tell him, and he said something about you being like my brother, and I just kind of panicked,” you explain, gulping. 

  Roger grimaces at the word just as you had earlier, eyes suddenly interested in everything but you. “So what’s the plan here?” he murmurs, meeting your eyes with a look of contrition. “Are you-are you going to tell him?”

 Your mouth opens and closes repeatedly, mind messily searching for the right thing to say. But the truth is, there simply isn’t. “I don’t know how to do this,” you bite the inside of your cheek as you await his reaction.

 “Do what?” Roger asks, eyes saddening even more. The question is pointless, because just like Brian said earlier, you two knew each other all too well. “Tell him about us or tell me that there isn’t an us?”

 You run a hand through your hair and then down your face. It’s so frustrating, being in this position. You want to try things with Roger more than anything, but the idea of it ruining him and Brian’s friendship is incorrigible. You had been so willfully ignorant last night when you kissed Roger and convinced him to try things out, and now that conversation feels so far from reality that you can’t even believe it happened. You settle with a, “I don’t know, Rog. I don’t know what to do.”

  There’s a stiff pause. “You never do,” he mutters under his breath, a thought he surely meant to keep to himself, but you hear it loud and clear.

 “What’s that supposed to mean?” you’re already detaching yourself from his gaze as the words soak in. Roger already knows he’s made a mistake by the hurt etched onto your face and tries to grab your hand, but you step back.

 “Y/N, that didn’t come out the way I wanted it to. Please—“

 You feel pathetic when tears brim your eyes. It’s not just what Roger said, or the way he said it, it’s that he said it. The one person you thought would always have your back, even if he himself didn’t agree. The one person who would go against the opinion of his best friend to make you feel better.

 “If that’s how you feel about me, fine. But please don’t try and spare my feelings and just be honest next time, okay, Rog?” you muster out, successfully holding back all of the emotion that so desperately wanted to claw its way out.

 “No, no, no,” Roger sputters out as you begin to walk away.

  You turn down an empty hallway, Roger hot on your trail. You decide that if you are going to cry, it will surely not be around heaps of people. He takes your hands in his before you can rip yourself away, his look pleading. “That’s not how I feel, love. I’ve told you how I feel about you, about your decision to come with us. I want you here. I want you to find what makes you happy.”

 The tears finally fall. They’re not out of anger, though; they’re out of frustration. You want so badly for there to be an easy solution to your problem, for your mother to just get it, for your brother to not be so overprotective, for Roger to be able to kiss you without the fear of repercussions. You want so many things that you can’t have, and it’s slowly ripping you apart.

 “Don’t cry, please,” Roger takes you in his arms, palm rubbing warm circles on your back. You can feel his eyelashes flutter against your forehead, lips doting on the space in front of your ear. “I know it’s all frustrating. I’m frustrated, too, but everything’s going to be okay.”

 You pull back a bit so you can look at him. He wipes some of your tears away, a crooked, sympathetic smile playing at his lips. “Rog, I’m really sorry, ‘cause I’m the reason for all of this. I asked too much of you. I was stupid to think--”

  Roger shakes his head, thumb rubbing under your eye. “You’re not stupid. A bit unrealistic, but definitely not stupid.”

  You instinctively lean into his hand, but quickly catch yourself. “Why couldn’t we have just run into each other at a supermarket or something? Things would be much easier that way,” you ponder out loud. “Wouldn’t be so difficult.”

  “Wouldn’t be the same, love. I’m still glad to have met you, even if it means keeping my distance,” Roger replies, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Let’s just...let’s just take it back to how it was. We’ll just know a little bit more about each other, s’all.”

  “You’d be able to do that?” you furrow your eyebrows, bottom lip grinding between your teeth. “You don’t think Brian will notice that things are...different?”

 “Wouldn’t worry about that, love. I’ve had a thing for you for years and Brian hasn’t a clue,” Roger admits with a chuckle, though it’s full of discontent. He brushes some hair from your face, slanting to press a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I can pretend as long as you promise to keep making fun of me. I live off of that shit. And...”

  “And?”

  “You’ll let me hold your hand sometimes,” Roger’s cheeks now a light pink hue.

 He finally gets you to laugh at that. “That’s a bit extreme, don’t you think? Hand holding?”

 “Those are my conditions. Take them or leave them,” Roger beams down at you, and for a moment, it really does feel like normal. How could you possibly say no to that? But at the same time, how could you pretend not to long for it, knowing that you he wants it just as bad as you? 

  “So what do you say, Miss May?”

 “That I’m not particularly fond of rhyming,” you quip, earning yourself a laugh from him as well. “But yeah, deal’s a deal,” your eyes travel down to where your bodies meet, Roger’s arms still securely around you. “Maybe we should…”

 “Yeah,” Roger agrees, but is slow to peel himself from you. You both sigh at the loss of contact, but are both smiling sheepishly at one another. Because even though your little love affair only lasted less than twenty-four hours, it was a damn good one.

***

part 3 // part 4 // masterlist

permanent taglist: @im-a-sheerheartattack, @queenbbarnes, @dreamerofzaldrizes, @idontbelievethiss, @sheridans-dynamos, @perriwiinkle, @culturefiendtrashqueen, @fangirlcore, @fatbottomedboi, @b-hardys, @alessandra-elle, @vee-ndetta, @getagriponmyboyracerrollbar, @anaaronescu-blog

sister taglist: @virtualsheepeat, @ohmygoditsanthonyedwardstark, @everybodyplaythegame, @jennyggggrrr, @obsessedwithrogertaylor, @captain--americanna

#roger taylor x reader #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor blurb #roger taylor fic #roger taylor fluff #ben hardy!roger x reader #ben hardy fluff #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy #roger taylor #roger taylor angst #ben hardy angst #brian may #queen fics #borhap #sister #requests #apseventy

[initiumseries]

I wanted to ask: What were your thoughts on the CAOS season 2 finale?

Oh my god thank you for asking, I’ve had the beginnings of a review sitting in my drafts forever because I’ve just been so busy. But I can definitely break down my thoughts on the CAOS finale here (this gonna be long lol)!Ok so, a few points that stick out from memory (all building to that shitty finale): 

- I wish CAOS took far more care and was more deliberate in building this world and the mythos. Like…anti-pope? Really? That’s the best they could come up with? DRESSED LIKE THE ACTUAL POPE, just in black and silver instead of red and gold? LOL. How fucking original.  

Also, they need to explain this universe to me because if everything about witches and the Dark Lord is the complete antithesis of Christianity then, explain why they insisted on beating me to death every damn episode with how patriarchal, chauvinistic and oppressive this world is? Like, that IS christianity lmfao. So like, why isn’t this satanic world not more free loving, progressive and matriarchal? Why aren’t women revered? Why is Lilith the Dark Lord’s servant? Her origin story is still stupid because the whole reason she was cast out was for not being subservient to Adam, but she met Lucifer and just blindly bent the knee and tolerated centuries of abuse and mistreatment…for the hope of becoming the Queen of Hell? Her reason to Sabrina makes literally NO SENSE. Also, they’re so inconsistent, sexual fluidity is fine, orgies are great, promiscuity is celebrated, and encouraged, even in teenagers: 

but women must be subjugated? How does that even make sense? And like…why? They don’t even provide a reason. It’s literally just “because we say so. Lol.” I guess they’d have to actually think of something interesting instead of leaning on the crutch of white feminism and choking us all with it, so it was easier to just…do this. - Season 1 establishes Prudence to be extremely dedicated to her culture and customs, she was prepared to die as Queen of the Feast, and she was gonna have fun on her way out.

(im gonna come back to the blessing that is P&A in A MOMENT) While she wasn’t prone to questioning witch customs, she was still the leader of the weird sisters (she even gets upset when they make decisions without her prior approval) and controlled that school with an steel grip or whatever. It was well established she thought for herself and wasn’t afraid of challenging someone when she thought it appropriate.

 But she finds out her father is Father Blackwood, whom she’d only shown the appropriate amount of deference to up until now, and now all of a sudden she’s mewling and begging for his acceptance and name? All season? Why? The first couple sexist ass rejections should have been enough for her to say, ok well fuck you, but instead she goes so far as to imprison Ambrose and allow him to be tortured all because of whatever Father Blackwood said? With no questioning, no guilt or second guessing even? She just blindly believes Ambrose is guilty until she herself is under fire? But like why? This shitty plot required an extreme dumbing down of Prudence’s character and that really sucks. - Ambrose and Prudence were the best part of this show and I want a spin off and I want it YESTERDAY. 

Like…I would watch a whole season of them dressed like this just hunting down Father Blackwood and hooking up and maybe mashing up some other things on the way lmao. This is all I want from CAOS is these two, nothing else. This was the best moment of the finale tbh. And it was high key dry because I watched them get up to foolishness for too long before it. 

- Sabrina is supposed to become the Dark Lord’s queen/wife…but he’s her Dad? Can y’all just slow tf down on all the damn incest? Also, this is literally the most chemistry Sabrina has had with literally anyone on this show because ofc it is (and that’s not saying much but like…it’s less painful than Austin Harvey).

- Also BIG FAN (not) of the random musical moment on the last episode to top off this extremely tacky, extremely corny season on a peak of bullshit. Also…who is the costume designer? Who can I send my formal complaint to about that crown? And this entire outfit? Anyway… - Sabrina is SO DUMB for taking THIS LONG to suspect Ms. Wardwell before now.  SHE LEGIT WAS GONNA LEAVE YOU IN LIMBO SIS LOL. Her white feminist speechifying was boring and wack but I guess it led to Lilith becoming Queen of Hell so…yay? I guess?? A more progressive Hell with a woman leading it!!  Also, I’m still waiting on an explanation of Sabrina’s resurrection and those RANDOM ass archangels that showed up out of nowhere. That could have been super interesting if the writers didn’t write this show like it was a bad acid trip.- Satan needed more bass in his voice. - my biggest gripe: How did we get here Father Blackwood? Like…you was always intense, but we went from using magic on your wife (Zelda really should have expected as much tbh I’m not sure how she didn’t from that moment they were walking down the steps. I hate how this plot required ALL the women to be dumber than normal) to using magicked teenagers to murder the anti pope and then pulling a Jonestown on like…the entire coven and dipsetting in like 2.5 seconds? But like…WHY? I don’t understand how everything escalated so fast and so far out of the realm of sense. Dude just decided “well IF I CAN’T OPPRESS WOMEN, NO ONE CAN.” And killed everybody? And given that the show went through great pains to articulate just how thoroughly sexist all the men in authority positions were…I don’t understand why he even bothered. Based on their attitudes, there’s literally no reason the anti-pope would accept Sabrina’s father’s ideas for the future of the coven. He would just be like “mmm cool story but I like assaulting women too much.” And kept it pushing. Talk about CONTRIVED. This show is just SO WACK but at least Sabrina and that crunchy wig of hers got cussed out a couple times I guess. 

#long post #caos spoilers #anti caos

[louthegreatfurrry]

let the light guide your way, pt.5

Harry stares at the creature standing on his bed. It’s a House Elf, he knows, and his wide eyes are alight with awe when they land on Harry.

“Mister Harry Potter sir!” the House Elf exclaims, clasping his hands together beneath his chin.

Harry hastens to shut his bedroom door behind him. “Er – not to be – rude, or anything, but this isn’t really a good time to have a House Elf in my room.”

The House Elf lowers his head, worrying the hem of his worn pillowcase in spindly fingers. “Dobby has come to tell you, sir,” he says, still not looking up, “…Dobby does not know where to begin…”

“Alright,” says Harry, nodding as he draws out his chair to sit down. “Well, just – take it slowly. May I ask some questions first, while you gather your thoughts?”

The House Elf – Dobby – stares with wide and watery eyes. “Yes, Harry Potter, sir!”

“What’s your family name?”

Instantly, Dobby lowers his head in shame. “The Malfoys, Harry Potter, sir.”

Harry blinks. “Do they know you’re here?”

“Oh, no, sir!” Dobby exclaims, shaking his head so roughly his ears slap him in the face. “Dobby will be punished severely, oh yes, Dobby will…”

That doesn’t sound all too good, but Harry doesn’t know enough about House Elf culture to tell him he shouldn’t be. “Alright, then,” he says. “Why are you here?”

“Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts!”

“What?” breathes Harry. “But I’ve got to go back—term starts on September first. It’s all that’s keeping me going. You don’t know what it’s like here. I don’t belong here. I belong in your world—at Hogwarts.”

“No, no, no,” Dobby insists, “Harry Potter must stay where he is safe. He is too great, too good, to lose. If Harry Potter goes back to Hogwarts, he will be in mortal danger.”

“Why?”

“There is a plot, Harry Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year,” whispers Dobby, trembling all over. “Dobby has known it for months, sir. Harry Potter must not put himself in peril. He is too important, sir!”

“What sort of things?” Harry asks, thinking back to what happened last year – his own bloodied hands and the intense rage that had coursed through him. “And who’s plotting them?”

Dobby bangs his head against the wall.

Harry bursts forward to stop him, pulling him away from it and into his chest. “Okay,” he says, shakily, nervously holding Dobby on an arms-length away when he stops trembling, “so you can’t tell me. But Dobby, I have to go back to Hogwarts. It’s the only place I have friends.”

That seems to stop Dobby for good. “Friends who don’t even write to Harry Potter?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

Harry’s heart skips a beat. When it resumes its march, it pours ice through his veins. “How do you know that?” he whispers, releasing Dobby and taking a step back. The whole summer has been completely silent – not a single word from his friends. “Dobby, have you been stopping my letters?”

“Harry Potter mustn’t be angry, sir,” Dobby whispers, shuffling his feet. “Dobby did it for the best…” Out from his pillowcase, he pulls a thick wad of letters. Harry can make out Hermione’s neat writings, Ron’s messy scrawl, a single letter from Neville, and some he can’t recognize.

Harry thinks back to the days spent in the backyard, away from prying eyes, crying into the flowerbeds as the bitter acid of rejection burned through his bones. He’d thought himself alone and deserted – that the long hours by the Gryffindor fireplace meant nothing to Ron and Hermione, that he meant nothing –

and now, Dobby is here –

A growl is torn from Harry’s throat, and with a snarl he lunges, hands-turning-hooves stretched before him. Dobby’s eyes widen in terror, and with a squeak, he’s gone.

On Harry’s bed, Harry sits, bristle strands of fur scattered on his hands. His nails have hardened and darkened, but still remain nails, and his fangs have elongated. Harry stares at the window. His reflection stares back with yellow eyes, his scar pulsating with the same sharp shade. His tusks, however small they are, poke out from his lower lip and are dark against his skin.

“Oh,” he whispers, softly, ever so softly, and the word is oddly shaped against his new teeth.

He changes back slowly, watching as the light fades from his eyes, his scar calming, his tusks and fur retracting.

On his bed lies the wad of letters, and Harry, deciding to ignore his transformations, turns on them in feral hunger.

*

Harry goes to bed early, lying beneath his sheets and reading the letters in dim light. He starts with the one he thought to be a stranger – he blinks in surprise when he recognizes Professor Flitwick’s wide loops. It’s a polite and humorous letter, stating that the portrait of a young girl had sought him out and asked him to pen a letter to Harry. The young lady said her name to be Zahira; she was supposedly a Ravenclaw herself, in her time. Her message is friendly, asking if his months are as boring as hers and hoping he has a good time. Professor Flitwick adds in his own little greeting, hoping Harry’s summer is pleasant and that he’s studying hard.

Harry snits open Neville’s letter afterward, squinting at the uncertain handwriting. It’s a sincere thank-you note, stating that, I know I’m not your friend, but you’re mine, and the House of Longbottom is in your service. I can’t do much, but if there’s anything you need help from, I’ll do my best, if you accept, of course, which you might not, since it’s me. But – I’ve enjoyed this year anyway. Thank you. There’s more – a blubbering mess, most of it, but Harry’s honored and touched at the sentiment. He tucks the letter in the pocket of Dudley’s old hoodie and decides to pen a reply sooner or later.

And then he goes to read Ron and Hermione’s letters. They’re cheery and light-hearted at the beginning, saying they’ve arrived safely home, and that they hope Harry has, as well (Hermione makes sure to ask three times about homework in her very first letter). By the fourth letter, they’ve both grown worried, asking him time and time again why he isn’t answering. Ron is worried for his safety, Hermione thinks he might’ve dropped her. They don’t say it, but Harry knows his friends, and he can read between the lines well enough.

He curls up against his battered pillow and cries bitter tears, thinking of all the worry he’s caused them – except no, it wasn’t him who caused it, it was Dobby, that blasted House-Elf –

at the thought of the Elf, a fresh wave of anger roars through him, and he grinds his teeth as his fingers curl around his sheets. His teeth gnash oddly together – his tusks, once again solid against his lips, are in the way.

The sensation squeezes his heart in a merciless grip. Harry folds against himself, hardened nails scraping down his arms, ribs constricting. What is he? Clearly not human – a monster – he’s taken lives, he’s killed –

he bites down on a sob just in time to hear the very notable sound of a revving car engine outside his second story window.

Harry stiffens. A beat. Two. Wiping at his tears he shuffles forward, peeking out from beneath the sheets – and he comes face to face with Ron Weasley, peering in through his window.

“ – Ron,” Harry whispers.

Ron zeroes in on him and he nearly falls out of the car he sits in. “Oh, Harry,” he says, his voice quivering, “it happened again?”

Every second of doubting Ron’s friendship evaporates at his tone, at that desperate and hurt tone, and Harry – teary-eyed and terrified – nods.

“Alright, then,” Ron says. “We’re getting you out of here. Come on.”

One flying car ride later Harry sits at the Weasley table, body back to normal, cheeks aching from smiling. Mrs. Weasley dotes, Ron laughs, Mr. Weasley talks to him as an equal.

And the house is full of warmth and safety and home.

*

Some days later they gather in Diagon Alley to get the yearly shopping out of the way. Harry wants some new textbooks – particularly books on creatures – and needs new boots, among other things. When they go into Gringotts, however, his heart twinges painfully.

The Weasley vault is barren, only one gleaming golden coin and a handful of sickles.

When they go to his vault, Harry determinedly fills far more into his pockets than is necessary. He slips in quietly, and when he comes out again, he’s already planning his note. Afterward, he slips out to the bathroom, quill and parchment in his pocket. Twenty minutes later, when they’re gathered at Flourish and Blot’s, Harry slips the bag of galleons into Mrs. Weasley’s cauldron along with the anonymous thank you note.

Far later that evening, when they return to the Burrow, Mrs. Weasley is near tears while counting the coins. “We can’t accept this,” she whispers repeatedly, fingers running over the gold as her eyes run over the penned letters. “We can’t accept this…”

“What should we do, then?” says Percy briskly, watching over Mrs. Weasley’s back. “There’s no name nor address.”

Mr. Weasley appears relieved. “I think we have to accept, Molly, dear,” he says, rubbing Mrs. Weasley’s shoulders.

Harry, happy his plan worked, slips quietly out of the room. He treads lightly up the stairs, into Ron’s room, and sits down on the mattress on the floor. It’s far better than what the Dursleys ever offered him. He crawls over to his trunk and folds some of the clothes lying near him – they’re leaving soon, and he’d rather be prepared for that. As he folds Dudley’s old hoodie, a letter falls out of the pocket.

Harry Potter, it says, in Neville’s hesitant scrawl.

Harry curses under his breath. Between the flying car and the expansive house and the slipping-his-friend’s-family money, he’d quite forgotten about Neville’s letter.

Casting a glance out the window, he deems to wait for the sun to set, and for Mr. Weasley to be mostly alone. Mrs. Weasley is a kind, generous woman, but Mr. Weasley’s calm warmth is what he wants for this task.

“I wanted to ask your dad something,” Harry says later when Ron and he finished the third round of Exploding Snap (Harry won all three rounds). “I’ll be back.”

Ron nods absently, murmuring to himself as he looks over the rules of the game. Harry had assured him several times he wasn’t breaking any rules, but Ron seemed determined to find some loophole for Harry’s cheating.

Grinning fondly at him, Harry shakes his head before venturing downstairs, wearing his pajamas and clutching Neville’s letter in hand.

“Mr. Weasley?” he calls, padding into the living room while pressing Neville’s letter to his chest. Mr. Weasley looks up from the newspaper – the Prophet – and meets Harry’s gaze in open curiosity. “I – got a letter, a few days ago, from Neville – could you help me write a response? It’s important.”

Mr. Weasley raises his eyebrows, but nods and scoots over in the couch. “Of course, Harry,” he says, petting the seat beside him. “Come sit down, and we’ll take a look.”

If his eyebrows had been raised before, they’re even more raised by the time he finishes reading the letter. “You were right,” he mutters quietly, scanning the parchment once more. “This is important. A House Debt is very serious business, Harry.”

Harry nods. “I got as much,” he admits. “What should I say in response? Agreeing would be tactically smartest, would it not?”

Mr. Weasley inclines his head absently, still reading. “Yes,” he says, “yes, it… would… Harry – ” He cuts off, then shakes his head and pointedly puts down the parchment. “Alright. His letter isn’t very formal, but I think yours should be anyway. Come on – let’s find some parchment for you.”

It takes almost two hours for them to finish. By the time Harry has signed the letter and put it aside for the ink to dry, the grandfather clock by the fireplace chimes midnight. Harry thanks Mr. Weasley profusely, bows a little for good measure, tucks the letter into an envelope and sends it off with Hedwig, and goes to bed.

Hogwarts begins in three days.

He’s ready.

*

“Uhm,” says Harry, pressing his hand flat against the extremely solid brick wall.

Ron has his hands fisted in his hair. “What do we do? The clock’s not eleven yet!”

Shrugging, Harry takes a step back. “Guess we’ll wait for your parents. They’ll be able to get us there in some way or another – or at least send a letter to Headmaster Dumbledore.”

“A – a letter? What about the Sorting Ceremony? What about Ginny?” Ron asks, hands flapping around.

“We can’t walk,” Harry says drily. “They’ll be back soon – they’ll know what to do. Breathe, Ron. We’ll be fine.”

Ron gulps down some air, then visibly forces himself to calm down, hands raking through his hair. “Yes,” he says, “yes, yes, we’ll be fine, we’ll – ”

Harry walks over to him and takes his hands in his, squeezing them tightly. “Be fine,” he finishes quietly. “Breathe.”

Ron’s fingers tighten around Harry’s even before the panic bleeds out of his eyes.

But then he nods.

Half an hour later they’re standing in Professor McGonagall’s office, brushing the soot off each others’ shoulders.

“Excellent,” Professor McGonagall says, flicking her wand at them. The soot instantly disappears. “The Sorting Ceremony has yet to begin. You may stay in the Common room until someone comes to fetch you.”

Harry and Ron thank her, then scurry off, running unashamedly towards the Common Room. Some portraits yell out greetings as they pass; Harry recognizes one or two of them and flings some greetings back. Their laughter rebound off the walls.

An amused Fat Lady lets them into the tower, where they run around in glee for another half-hour, exploring the Common Room now that they’re completely alone in there and don’t have to worry about prefects.

When they calm down, Harry pulls out a battered Muggle card deck he’d nicked from school when he was six. He settles down with Ron in front of the cold fireplace and teaches him the few Muggle games he knows.

At some point, food appears on the table in the middle of the room – sandwiches and toast and some grapes, pumpkin juice and treacle tart. Harry and Ron, who hadn’t been able to eat much that morning because of the chaotic household, gobbles it down with childish glee.

Several hours later, when the sky outside has gone dark and the stars are winking in, Professor Flitwick knocks on the portrait and gives them a wide smile. “It’s time to go, lads!” he says cheerfully.

The other students have arrived.

#harry potter #fanfiction #tomarry #harrymort #dark harry #demon harry #meg og mitt #my writing

[spacerockwriting]

Puzzles and Patronus’

Read on A03

The first time Scorpius Malfoy saw Albus Potter shirtless, it was not romantic.

Albus had arrived back into the dormitory the following term with his parents in tow. He did not go to the welcome back dinner, and he did not partake in the train ride. His older brother James, was in the dorms helping with his trunk while Al’s mother carefully remade his bed. His father, Harry, stood around the dorms, trying to make conversation how this dorm mirrored his own when he was in Hogwarts. His little sister Lily, stood off to the side quiet, before deciding to unpack some of her brother’s things.

As Head Boy, James was tasked with making sure that Al was following proper orders, and as Al’s older brother, the task was more personal, making sure that his little brother was doing okay. As Head Boy, James had instructed Slytherin Prefect, Scorpius, to keep watch of his little brother. As his best friend, Scorpius felt it was more his duty to keep safe eyes on Albie.

The first morning of the first days of second term fifth year, Albus woke up slightly later than the rest of his dorm. Scorpius had already made his way back from breakfast with a muffin in hand, when he noticed that Albus was currently shirtless and sitting on his bed.

There was nothing romantic about it, as Scorpius watched from a far, as his best friend struggled with his school uniform.  Scorpius had known he was significantly weaker, but seeing him struggle with a daily task like buttoning his shirt was hard to watch.

“Do you need help, Albus?” The words are soft spoken, and he goes to meet the eyes of his best friend.

Albus’ face is bright red, ashamed of admitting defeat. But he had been sitting there longer shirtless. It was as if his brain struggled to remember the simple motions, and his muscles ached with the movements for the simple task.

He doesn’t speak to Scorpius, and Scorpius takes that answer as a yes. He goes over to his best friend and buttons up the shirt for him, then helps him with the tie, then the knit jumper. Scorpius keeps that friendly smile on his face and grabs the hairbrush Ginny Weasley had placed on the bedside table.

Albus’ hair is too short to need a lot of brushing, but Scorpius does it regardless. He quietly pulls the brush through the short strands, letting the clumps of hair that were long enough, stick up in soft spikes. He puts the brush down and smiles at his best friend. “There. You look all Albus-y again.”

Albus just nods in thanks, leveraging himself on Scorpius’ arms as they go to class together.

They’re sitting on Albus’ bed in the dormitory one cold, Hogsmeade, Saurday afternoon. Albus has been instructed via his healer, and his muggle therapist, to take it easy. He’s not allowed any extracurricular activities this term, and he’s required the bare minimum until his health clears up. He can only do homework and class, and low stress activities. He has been ordered to take it slow, which sounded fun at first, but quickly grew boring. Even trips to Hogsmeade at this time were deemed too inappropriate.

Scorpius hunched over the large spacious jigsaw puzzle, putting in a piece of the landscape. “Ah, right there!” He beams at Albus. “Did you find that sky piece yet, Al?”

Albus nods, and puts it into place. He then adds the final sky piece and frowns, jerking his leg and kicking at the puzzle. He lets out a soft pout and typical Albus grumpy look. However, with his short haircut he looks more like an angry child than a teenage boy.

“Oh well, we were done!” Scorpius waves his wand and the pieces all fly back into the box. “Want to do another, or do you want to play a game, or?” Scorpius rambles off ideas.

“I want to talk,” Albus says softly.

Scorpius straightens up. Talking about what happened hadn’t been something they had done. Scorpius was told by many that Albus would talk when he was ready. Scorpius was anxious to know about the whys and hows behind it all, but he couldn’t force it out of Albus before he was ready.

“You don’t have to stay with me,” Albus says. “You can go to Hogsmeade and to clubs and stuff if you want. I can just nap or something.”

“I want to stay with you. Hogsmeade isn’t fun without you. Besides, I don’t want you to be alone.”

Albus opens his mouth to protest, but he changes what he says. “I know. I just don’t want to be the reason you miss out.”

“You’re not,” Scorpius reassures him.

“Because Merlin’s beard, I’m already the reason Mum cries, or why Lil’s so scared, or Jamie’s influx of random compliments and love, or Teddy’s generosity, or Dad’s—Dad’s hurt face. If I would’ve known all that then maybe I’d of rather let it kill me,” Albus replies, trying to play the last words off as a joke. Scorpius’ eyes hollow, and Albus presses his thin lips together. “That was a joke,” he reaffirms.

“No it wasn’t,” Scorpius says seriously.

Albus breathes, then Scorpius breathes a little harder. He waves his wand to pull the curtains closed around their bed. It’s still just the two of them in the dorm, but Scorpius wants more privacy. He reaches to the side of Albus’ bed, where the boy’s beloved owl stays. Scorpius grabs it and hugs it tight.

“I was joking,” Albus whispers. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Scorpius hugs the toy owl with all his might. He loves everything about the little owl, from the way the toes on the left foot are home to tiny teeth marks, to the way the toy has specks of dirt on it. He loves the little plastic eyes that seem far to knowing, the same eyes that house all of Albus’ secrets Scorpius wasn’t around to witness. He loves the beak, how it’s stained from all the food little Albus had forced into its face, and the little wings that are home to dirty fingerprints.

“But you wish you weren’t,” Scorpius finishes quietly.

“Sometimes,” Albus finishes quietly. There’s truth behind those words and Scorpius breathes out. He exhales and looks at Albus in a new, serious way. “Mum and Dad won’t stop hovering, James is less James than normal, and Mum always hugs me so much. Dad has trouble looking at me. I didn’t get in trouble. I should’ve been grounded for life, but Mum made me chocolate cake, and Gran gave me a knit blanket. They’ve been smothering me.”

“You could’ve died, Al.”

“I wasn’t in any danger.”

Scorpius’ ice blue eyes turn to straight ice. “You almost died. I should know; I carried you.”

Albus doesn’t speak. There’s truth behind those words. He was told how he was more out of it than he remembers. He was told constantly about his low levels of blood, low levels of sugar. His healer told him about the weight loss, and the hair loss was noticeable. The combinations Albus did were dangerous, and if he continued the acidity from his mixture could’ve ripped a hole in his stomach.

“My muggle therapist says that it was an addiction.” He watches as Scorpius strokes and hugs his toy owl. Hooty had always been so sacred to him. As a child no one was allowed to touch Hooty aside from himself or his parents. Albus had to have the utmost trust in a person before they could hold his toy.

Scorpius has always had that trust. From day one, Scorpius treated the owl like how Albus did. Hooty was always respected, and treated like an individual and not some throwaway play thing. He never rough played with the toy, never laughed. He was always kind.

“So you’ve been seeing someone?” Scorpius asks.

“Yeah, Mum made me start seeing him again.”

Scorpius pauses at the word again. He’s never known Albus to ever see one of those. He’s never known about it. He’s known Albus six years next September, and he’s never ever heard mention of this. Ever.

“Again?” Scorpius questions.

Albus’ head shifts down, ashamed and low. He mentally curses to himself. “Forget I said anything,” he denies quickly.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Scorpius says quietly. “If you don’t feel comfortable doing so.” He won’t admit he’s hurt, that Albus doesn’t trust him like that. But if Albus thinks he can’t handle it, it must be something big.

“No, I want to tell you,” Albus replies back quickly. “I just don’t want…I don’t want people to know,” he says, getting softer.

“You think I’d tell someone?” Scorpius can’t help but be defensive.

“No! I just don’t want anyone to overhear,” he confesses. “We’ve spent years keeping this away from the press. We can’t let it get out. It’d fuck up a lot of shit.”

“What is it?”

“Promise not to tell?”

Scorpius nods his head, taking this seriously. “Of course, Al.”

Albus takes a deep breath. “As a little kid, I went to muggle mind healers. Therapy, it’s called in the muggle world. I have…” Albus pauses then rearranges his words. “When I was in nursery school, my teacher told Mum and Dad I had really bad manners, and behaviors, and social problems. I…I have problems understanding people. I’m not crazy, or psyco, or anything, I think,” he adds in a quiet mumble. “I just am shit with people. I got better!” Albus adds quickly. “Not cured, but better. Like I don’t have tantrums when I’m socially exhausted anymore, and I can function pretty good compared to how I was.” Albus waits for Scorpius to process everything.

“But how is it a bad thing?” Scorpius asks. “You have trouble with social skills and people. Why is that anything to be ashamed of?”

“Once,” Albus confesses. “When I was little, like, we just found out. Dad was talking to Aunt ‘Mione in his work office once. People overheard him in the office. I wasn’t supposed to hear that. I really wasn’t. But I heard him and Mum talking one night about it when I had went to get some juice before bed. Dad was really freaked out. Turns out people at work kept joking with him about it.  Someone had overheard and told Dad Voldymort,” Albus pauses after his pronunciation. He couldn’t say that word right if you gave him fifty galleons. “Had people issues too.” Albus looks at his bedding.

Scorpius fills in the blanks himself. “Oh, Albie,” he says, and reaches over to hug his best friend. “People assumed you were the next him.���

“You know what they say,” Albus mumbles. “He didn’t understand love either.”

Scorpius’ heart breaks at the words, and he doesn’t care if Albus sees the tear slip from his eyes. He scoots closer to Albus and wraps him in a hug.

Albus Potter was the sweetest, kindest boy he’d ever known. Albus had a heart of gold, and was a good kid. Sure Albus had some rambunctious tendencies, and sometimes questionable behavior, but now it all made sense. He often didn’t follow social norms, because he didn’t know social norms.  Scorpius had learned that Albus had to be taught what a lot of people knew naturally.

Scorpius couldn’t understand where anyone got the conception that Albus was the next dark lord. Albus’ heart was almost always in the right place. He was always thriving, and even if he had selfish moments, he almost always did the right thing. He was a wonderful person, and Scorpius perhaps, loved him more now.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Scorpius decides to ask.

“I dunno. Somehow, Hi I’m Albus Potter and I’m socially fucked couldn’t seem to find a proper way into a conversation.”

“Does anyone else know? Aside from your family and stuff, obviously.”

“Mum told the mums of the muggle kids I played with. And relatives, obviously. It’s one of the sacred things on some extreme forbidden list that no one is allowed to talk about outside family. I mean, it’s like really up there.  I mean, it’s so up there that once when I was younger James tried to use it against me in some stupid fight and he got grounded for like, a month. And by grounded, it was probably the worst grounding he had ever had. James can pick on me other ways, but if he pulls that out and Mum and Dad find out, he’s in really big trouble.”

“Are you okay?” Scorpius asks, and Albus nods his head.

“Yeah, I am. Really.”

Scorpius nods, letting all the information sink in. He thinks back to the earlier words of Al mentioning he wanted to talk. “What did it do to you?” He asks. “The potion, not your social disorder. But by the way, I’m glad you told me. Let me know if you need help with it. Honest.”

Albus licks at his lips. They felt cold and chapped. “Thanks.” He searches for words. “And I will,” he adds quietly. “Thank you for not treating me like a freak. For both of them.”

“You’re my best friend; why would I call you a freak?”

“Telling someone that you physically have to get help for social skills isn’t exactly the most normal thing, Scorp. Neither is being in a hospital because you almost ripped a hole in your stomach with an acidic potion you made from some illegal section of a text book.”

“But then, neither is obsessing over an author that wrote a book about a history of our school, or having multiple copies of the same text book, because each one has a different cover, or edition by the same author. We’re both not normal, Albie,” he tells him, leaning back on his hands on the bed. “Why did you take the potion?” Scorpius didn’t mean to ask, he didn’t know if it were still a secret. But he wanted to know. He wanted to know about the hows and whys behind Albus Potter.

“I dunno,” Albus replies quietly. “I was told at some stupid family dinner that fifth year was OWL year. My Uncle Percy casually mentioned that OWLs were the most important test of Hogwarts, and if you failed your OWLs you’d never get a job.”

“But your Uncle Percy says the same thing about literally everything you enjoy. If you listen to hard heavy music like that people won’t hire you. If you’re not some clean cut proper kid, schools will never take you seriously. Al, he always talks like that. Why was this any different?”

“I know. I don’t know,” Albus replies, being awful stubborn about his answer. Albus looks past Scorpius at the curtains surrounding them. They’re enclosed, and it’s just the two of them. Life feels like it should be; it’s Albus and Scorpius. “I just…” Albus blinks hard, and tears slip out.

“You don’t have to answer that,” Scorpius replies seriously. “If it makes you upset, or you’re not ready, you don’t have to answer me.”

“I was scared,” Albus confesses.  Scorpius listens. “I was scared, and James has his quidditch and Lily has her being an only girl thing, and Mum’s Mum and Dad’s Dad and I’m just…I wanted to do good. I wanted to have a future and I’ve always been the troubled kid. The freak.”

“You’re not,” Scorpius reasons.

“But I am,” he retorts back. “I’ve always been that kid. I’ve always been seen as odd, or off.  I’ll always be that kid that doesn’t understand, or that kid that’s off on his own because he’s too fucked socially.”

“So your social reasons were the reason behind your potion?”

Albus shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t really know. I just had it in my head that I’d fail the OWLs just like I fail at…at that stuff and I don’t know. I just didn’t want to do that. It’s not just school that’s rough for me Scorp,” Albus says quieter. “It’s being lonely. This…this thing inside me that causes me to fuck up so much, it makes me so fucking confused,” he whispers to his best friend. “I just wanted to not fuck up for once,” he whispers. “And it seemed easy. It was just a potion. But I fucked up, naturally.”

Scorpius’ heart aches for the situation. He can’t even imagine what it must be like to be in Albus’ head. To not understand and have to question everything because you’re constantly in doubt. “But if all you needed was just to study, then why go to the extremes? You’re not a horrible student, Al. I mean, sure, there are some classes you’re not best at, but even Hermione Granger had a bad class.”

“I know, but it didn’t seem like it’d be enough. I just got overwhelmed in myself, I guess.”

Scorpius nods. He hadn’t noticed it too much, but now that Al was pointing it out, he could see it more clearly. Albus sometimes got too into something. He would sometimes do this thing where he would get too involved, and wouldn’t know when to stop. This seemed like it was probably the case.

“I’m sorry.” Albus blinks.

“You don’t need to be,” Scorpius replies. “You don’t ever need to apologize for that thing. You don’t ever have to feel sorry for having a social disorder, or a learning disorder, or mental disorder, or whatever. You don’t have to apologize for not understanding, or being scared of yourself, or that you need patience, or quiet time. If you ever need me for anything, I’m here for you. I’m your best friend,” Scorpius finishes. “And I care about you.”

“Thanks, Scor.”

“And if all you need is some study time, then Professor Malfoy is in the house!” He lets out a bit of a giggle. “From now on I’ll be your tutor for extra study! We can do it every night, work on our OWLs together. We can do it when no one is here, just us, or in the library, and after dinner, oh, I’ll make a schedule!” Scorpius lets out a squeak at the mention of making a timetable for studying. “It’ll be fun.”

While studying with Scorpius isn’t exactly the definition of fun, all in all it’s not too bad. He’s patient, and he’s kind. He doesn’t mind helping Al out from time to time, and he even double checks all the papers that have misspellings due to Albus not wearing his glasses.

They’re sitting on the bed one evening when everyone is still at dinner. Albus hasn’t gained the strength yet to eat at the dining table just yet, and so far, no one’s really noticed. His cousins all know he’s recovering, as do his siblings. The other kids hadn’t paid too much attention to the Malfoy eating alone. Word travels fast at their school, and Albus’ potion problem became known as the Potter kid that’s recovering. No one ever asks what for, or what from, although a few kids did leave cards on Albus’ bed before the hospital.

“I think we need to work on our patronus’,” Scorpius says. “The physical examination requires us to perform such work. Do you want to try?”

Albus is sitting on the bed, defense book in his lap. “I guess.” Albus sets the book on the bed as he stands up.

“Right, think of your happiest memory and say it loud and confident. Most wizards can’t get it right first try. Many can’t produce a patronus.”

Albus squeezes his eyes shut and thinks of a happy memory. It’s rough, especially considering right now he often feels at his lowest. He settles on one of him and Scorpius, meeting for the first time. With a wave of wand, just a tiny bit of mist flies out.

“Almost, Al. Try a harder one.”

Albus nods, then concentrates harder. With a wave of wand, Scorpius lets out a little gasp. “Albie, it’s-its woah,” he says, eyes wide. Out of the wand, the silvery creature is crawling on the ground, going to find a spot to sit on. It takes a seat on the ground, and blinks at Albus.

Scorpius lets out another gasp, smiling wide at the creature. “Al, it’s a koala!” He exclaims. “That is so neat!” He watches as the animal sits and blinks, comfortable with the blond. “I’ve never heard of a koala patronus before. Is this your first time?”

Albus shrugs, and watches as the animal disappears. “Dad talked to me about it. We tried it a few times. I only succeeded once. I don’t—“

“He’s so cute, Al.”

Albus wrinkles his nose. “But aren’t they supposed to be tough, like a protector?”

“Koala’s aren’t weak animals, Al. They’re fierce protectors to those they care about.”

“Try yours,” Albus encourages. He wants the focus off his dumb koala. He doesn’t really like his patronus, but from what he’s heard you can’t change them. Not purposely. They only change over time, through soulmates. Nothing that Albus could change at the moment.

“Okay,” Scorpius agrees He closes his eyes and thinks a few minutes of his happiest thoughts. He thinks of him and his mother, and smiles, waving his wand. Silver mist comes out, but not enough to fully form the silver creature. Closing his eyes, he thinks again, of a stronger memory with his mum. The mist shoots out the wand and soars through the air, landing on top of the bed post.

Albus looks at the creature as it sits atop the post. It’s a white snow owl, with darker specks on it. It’s a familiar looking owl, Albus notes, as his eyes wander to the stuff toy on his bed. “Hooty?” Albus questions, staring at the owl on the post.

Scorpius turns to his patronus, then to Albus’ toy owl. “It does,” he remarks. “Al, I think this-I think this is Hooty, if he were, well, a live owl.”

“Mines a koala, and yours is a replica of my favourite stuff toy.”

Scorpius smiles at it. He’s read all about patronus’ and what they mean both spiritually for the person and the caster. He’s read how they can match your soulmate. With Albus out of the hospital, Scorpius knows it’s too soon to even think about dating, or asking. Albus needs to focus on himself first, on getting better before they can even think about the next step. But as he looks at the little white owl, he smiles bigger to himself.

There is no coincidence that Albus’ prized stuff toy and his patronus match.

There’s no way.

#PaP #scorbus #Scorpius Malfoy #albus severus potter