#Also; it's been about a year since the last boat joke - but indeed this is the 11th boat of pd-mdzs. No need to do the math.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Don't Wormy About Me.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #yu ziyuan #Please allow me to make it clear how important I think the hug between YZY and JC is in regards to several aspects of their characters #For one - it is the resolution and reveal that behind all the harsh words and bitterness...She really did love her son. #A hug is a soft gesture that you would never expect from someone like YZY and the fact she shows JC this affection now - #-Tells us how she knows that this upcoming battle is a death sentence for her. #Her giving away Zidan is honestly overkill but another sign of her truly showing him how she loves him and wants him to survive. #The dread of knowing she's walking back to a fight without zidian and trying to keep up brave face one last time...chilling. #Zidian represents legacy and promises. And this is going to both save and destroy Jiang Cheng as he carries this weight alone. #Heartbreaking stuff! Didn't draw it in the comic because I wanted to draw a silly worm on a string! #WWX tried to help JC out of the knot but got stuck in it. #Those worm on a string tricks are harder than they look! #Also; it's been about a year since the last boat joke - but indeed this is the 11th boat of pd-mdzs. No need to do the math.

[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

Hello! I hope this doesn’t make you uncomfy but I was wondering if I could get a bit of advice? From your recent posts, you said you left your home from toxicity and just bad things in general.

I’m in a similar situation, but my dad will be taking me away from my mom. And I just know it’ll be a shit show. And I’m absolutely terrified when we tell her and what the backlash will be afterwards towards my brothers and me and dad in general

How did you do it? How did you take the leap? Do you possibly have any advice on how to deal ?

Hello, friend!! ☀️

Thank you so much for reaching out, it means a lot that you value my advice <3

Hmm, okay from what I can tell of your situation, that is indeed a tricky one, but nothing can’t be overcome!

It’s important to remember, though, I was 19 when I left (now 20), so the way I handled things is going to be a lot different than how a minor can handle things (legally at least, feel free to replicate my insane stunts lmao)

Advice below the cut! (family violence trigger warning, I suppose?)

My entire family was and is extremely volatile, and I don’t speak to any of them anymore except for my older brother, but I’ll be cutting him off in 3 weeks too when I move.

Fortunately, my dad and brother were both kicked out of the house years ago due to violence, which left me with my mother, who’s quite insidious herself (just watch any Conjuring movie and that’ll give a good idea of what it was like living in that house lol)

I get the same feeling watching this scene as when I was around her in that house. Granted she didn’t try to change my gender, but the hatred for my father getting taken out on me is pretty accurate lol, paired with the immediate “motherly love” afterwards (she never hit me though, pleased to say — she wasn’t physically violent, just emotionally, financially, mentally and verbally. She did try to run my dad over once though, so, there’s that too)

Yikes…yeahh the same eerie feeling for sure, still makes all my hairs stand upright in memory.

(For further context this clip reminds me of my father and this one of my brother)

In the clip about my father, he definitely reminds me of Frank Gallagher, except he despises my mother instead of revering her. He’s a workaholic instead of a drug addict, too. But the mannerisms are the same. I always handled him in the way Fiona does.

Regarding my brother, I think everything about our family hit him the hardest, despite being the oldest. He developed a very violent streak, and has very poor impulse control. I love him dearly but he’s a snake in the grass, and has thrown me under the bus multiple times to get ahead in life. I mostly just pity him, since I know what our life was like growing up. But still, I can’t defend him forever, especially not at the cost of myself. Literally yesterday I woke up to a text from him asking me to come pick him up because he got arrested for starting a fight at a bar and smashing their windows.

When things started getting pretty bad with my mother earlier this year, I started to realise in my heart that there was no way I could go forth in life with her in it. I focused on the future relationships I would have one day when far away from this town — romantic partner, children, friends etc

I sort of realised one day I’d care about them a lot more than I care about my mother, because those future people would care about me. That in turn got me realising that I do deserve love, despite how my mother made me feel, and that I don’t want her to deprive another second of that in my life.

Something very unique that triggered this too was going to go visit an old family psychic, who’s basically just the Gandalf to my Frodo (ily, Chris <3). He very accurately predicted my birth years ago after my mother was told she was infertile — he got the date, year and time right three years in advance, and even knew ahead of time what my personality would be like, which he was spot-on about.

Well, I went and visited him a few months ago because I was lost with my direction, and he ended up pausing and had a sudden feeling, which led to him telling me that he’d just found out I would be having twin boys one day.

Normally I don’t buy into that stuff, but this Gandalf dude…well I knew he was right.

Knowing I’d have sons of my own one day took me from a scared daughter mindset and into a maternal mother bear in an instant, and I knew I didn’t want any children of mine around my mother or the rest of my family, for their safety alone, which made me realise, “Well, if I wouldn’t allow my own children near them, why do I allow myself?”

I started grey-rocking her in the lead-up to me leaving, which of course frustrated her (she’s a malignant narcissist), but it was a necessary step to start emotionally detaching myself from her.

It all bottled over one night after a pretty distressing argument (I had locked myself in my room to avoid it, but she was still at my door carrying on).

My cat, who’s been my best friend for years, was sitting on the floor next to me, and sort of looked up and I swear he spoke with his eyes, saying, “You know we can’t keep doing this, right? You know this abuse has an expiry date?”

I agreed with my cat and knew right then and there that I’d be leaving that night after my mother fell asleep.

Well, when she was finally done (with threats that there’d be more in stock in the morning, mind you) I went to bed early and set my alarm to 3am (was a little inside joke with myself, since that’s biblically the “witching devil hour”)

I started quietly packing my quilt and cat up (I’d already been secretly packing the boot of my car up with all sentimental and important items weeks in advance, except she caught on and took all my baby albums and more to her boyfriend’s house, so I don’t have any baby photos or information on me when I was a baby anymore, like first words, size and just general things I’d have liked to compare to my own kids one day, rip)

Once that was all in my car, I quietly said goodbye to the old family dog and cat (they weren’t mine to take, not that I could’ve anyways, since it was troubling enough taking Buddy, who’s actually my pet and not the family one). That was pretty heartbreaking, as I knew that’d be the last time I’d see them (I grew up with them and was the only one who took care of them — mother neglects kids and pets alike lmao).

Once that was over, I looked around my house with my hand on the front door and was very melancholy, but knew Buddy was right: it had all reached its expiry date.

I left very quietly and drove to McDonalds for a coffee, as I had a long drive ahead (I had organised to be a nanny in this rich family’s house far away in the city — two hours drive). Luckily they were away on their country farm 4 hours away, so I had time to sneak Buddy in.

The nanny thing recently backfired horribly because they discovered Buddy, which led to more AM escapes with my car, but I’m staying with my older brother and his gf for 3 more weeks only. Something I’ve been working towards for months now is moving to a wilderness island to live in my country’s equivalent of Bag End — a beautiful country cottage, amazing job and fantastic study opportunities.

Best feature yet: it’s 60 hours away from my hometown by car, and then you’d have to take a boat for 10 more hours!! They shall never find me hahaha

One of my friends has also told me recently that my mother has started spreading horrible, defamatory rumours about me around town, but I don’t care anymore because I’m almost out.

So, although I can’t offer any practical advice (idk if you’re a minor or not, but regardless it’s great your dad is helping you!) this is the best advice I can offer:

Find a dream and hold onto it, one that doesn’t involve your immediate family. For me it’s moving to that island and enjoying all the fresh air. It’ll push you forwards and remind you of what you’re fighting for when at your lowest.

Remind yourself there will be other people in your life, whether a spouse, friends, children or even a dog! (I’m getting a golden retriever next year 🐾) And then remember that you deserve all of them and the unconditional love they offer you.

Remember that if you don’t want your mother/family screwing those people over by proxy of her/their relationship to you, then there’s no way in hell you alone should put up with it either, as I guarantee those future people only want good things for you ☀️

There is a good life after abuse, I’ve seen it, and I know you can achieve it, too!

Be prepared for tons of backlash and bullshit — it’s inescapable when dealing with people like this, but I recommend educating yourself on narcissistic parents and tactics to deal with them.

Finding a good therapist who deals in PTSD regarding childhood abuse is important, too. I found an amazing one in the town I’m moving to, who had nearly the same upbringing as me!

So while I’m still struggling with a lot of fear (scared my mother will find where I’m working and living one day) and guilt (I feel horrible about leaving the family dog and cat behind, especially when they need veterinary help, only to then go and get myself another puppy) I understand I’ve done the best I can in a very abnormal situation, and that I can only do better from here.

Also, this song has been a saving grace when going all angsty over wanting to leave your current situation:

It’s from my favourite Broadway Musical, “Newsies”, and lemme tell you — discovering this as a 17-year-old when I was just starting to realise the severity of my situation was pure divinity.

Jeremy Jordan, my beloved Broadway Bard <3

When I finally get my cottage, I’m getting a wooden plaque with the name “Santa Fe” engraved on it, and am hanging it on my front door.

I wish you much luck and love, my little anonymous friend! And please know my inbox is open any time you need anything — vent, advice, a laugh or something else, ANYTHING, it feels good to know my past can maybe help someone else’s present ☀️

Please update me, too! I’m following your story along ardently now! (Also, be sure to take your sentimental items and store them somewhere safe away from your mother — ie baby albums, birth certificates, other paraphernalia/memorabilia etc).

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must hit the road. DESTINY AWAITS!

#ahh yes #Newsies my beloved <3 #and bless my family Gandalf #I’m gonna send him a gift next year from the small country town I’m moving to for his birthday as a thanks #also I’m torn between naming the golden retriever ‘Jaskier/Dandelion’ or ‘Glorfindel/Glorfy’ now #so happy that’ll soon be my only dilemma in life <33

[writesowhatnext]

definitely just a coincidence // remus lupin

Summary: sometimes everything in life just… comes together – helps if you have a Sirius though

Request: Hi, how are you doing? Could you please write a soulmate au for Remus where soulmates have a birthmark where they’re first touched by them and the reader has a mark on her wrist? And one day Remus and the reader happen to sit next to each other at a quidditch game they're having fun talking when James does something risky and Remus grasps the reader's wrist? I'm sorry if that was too specific! Thank you!

A/N: I have no idea why this was so difficult to write but I hope you like it! It also took everything I had not to use the word coinkydink

Reader: unspecified

Warnings: swearing bc I’m incapable

The universe, without question, works in mysterious ways. Any third-rate fortune teller, rocket scientist or six-year-old can tell you that. Some things are just meant to be: the sun move from East to West, Sirius Black is the world’s biggest drama queen and every single person has a soulmate.

It would definitely be a lie to say that you’d never questioned the legitimacy or inevitability of soulmates. It just seemed strange that there was this perfect person out there for you, but every time you looked at your wrist, you were reminded that it must be true.

Though soulmates are still pretty much a mystery to both the muggle and the wizarding world, the working theory is that in a past life, wherever on your bare skin your soulmate last touched left a mark, a birthmark, where they were destined to first touch you in this life.

Your mum always told you to cover the mark on your wrist; it was in such a common place and you had to be careful so you would know for sure who your soulmate was. Most people tended to parade theirs around, though, and some even took to covering every inch of their body to avoid the situation entirely. There’d been stories, though, of massive coincidences and unimaginable luck uniting soulmates and as you looked down at your wrist, vaguely aware that you would be late for the Quidditch match if you didn’t hurry up, you thought about who yours would be. Someone smart, perhaps? Funny, maybe? You hoped more than anything that they’d be kind. It was odd to think, regardless, that the universe would try so hard to get you together.

Absentmindedly, you rubbed at the thick mark on your wrist, the colour a stark contrast to your skin. The wide band reached around your wrist and almost connected at your palm and anyone with half a brain cell could see it was a perfect shadow of someone’s grasp. You frowned, briefly glancing at the time.

“Oh fuck,” you muttered, quickly grabbing your scrunchie and making for the door. Every day, without fail, you’d worn that scrunchie on your wrist, covering your mark and not once had it failed you. Today, though, was different from every other day. Whether you knew it or not, this day would be very different indeed because the universe, in all its ineffably annoying glory, decided it had a job to do.

As you rushed through the corridors, desperate not to miss the last quidditch match of the season, you were glad to see many other people in the same boat, winding around the corridors to the pitch. You were so eager that you didn’t even notice Lily coming around the next corner and, before you knew it, you had slammed into her, sending each of you back a few feet, onto your arses. You blinked, a little disorientated as you tried to focus on her.

“Blimey,” you said, using one hand to push yourself up as the other rubbed your head. “I did not expect that.”

“Y/N!” Her face lit up as she realised it was you, taking your outstretched hand gratefully. “Just the person I was after.”

“Why? Did you want to be human bumper cars today?”

She laughed, shaking her head and clutching the book she had dropped to her side under her arm.

“I can’t go to the match today – head girl bollocks, you know how it is-“

“Sure I do,” you said, sarcasm leaking through your tone. She rolled her eyes in response, side-stepping a Hufflepuff racing past her. You suddenly remembered why you’d been running in the first place, your happiness at seeing your friend replaced with a familiar urgency.

“Can you tell Remus for me? He said he’d save me a seat – he’ll be next to Sirius…”

You barely heard what else she said, your feet already talking you towards the pitch.

“Sure, Lils!”

You thought about Sirius as you hurried towards the Gryffindor stand, relieved to see that the players weren’t even on the pitch yet. You and Sirius had been friends since second year when he nearly set your hair on fire in Charms. He’d been apologetic, of course, but his expression soon turned mischievous when you’d shot a spark at him, singeing the hairs of his forearm. From then on, you’d been as thick as thieves. It helped he had friends that were happy to accept you and who tended to find your jokes, however unfunny, hysterical. Sometimes you wished you weren’t as close, though. He could read you like an open book and he constantly teased you about your crush on Remus. He’d never shut up about it when you were alone and when you weren’t, he’d send you annoying glances and make lewd gestures. And for that, and many other things, you hated him about as much as you could hate someone so loveable.

You spotted the two of them around a dozen rows up, Sirius already shouting though the match hadn’t even begun to start. You rolled your eyes at him before you let them wander to Remus, who was sitting rather patiently next to him. In all honesty, it wasn’t that you didn’t have a crush on Remus, you just hated it when Sirius was right. And, it wasn’t like it would go anywhere: he never gave any indication that he liked you and you both had soulmates – it was a moot point. As you walked closer, slipping between some unruly Gryffindors on the way, you had to admire Remus. He was very handsome and the sight of him staring up at Sirius with fond exasperation made you smile, a warmth in your chest. It reminded you of when you’d first met.

“Oi, Y/N,” Sirius had shouted from the breakfast table when he saw you walk into the Great Hall. You rolled your eyes and wandered over, standing behind him.

“And what do you want?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“Can’t I just want to see my friend without ulterior motives?”

If you had known him less well, you would’ve been fooled by his puppy dog eyes.

“No, you always have ulterior motives. That’s your defining feature.”

“I thought my hair was my defining feature? Or my exquisitely handsome face? Remus,” he turned towards the boy opposite at the table, who had been watching you both with amusement. “What’s my defining feature?”

“Your modesty.”

You snorted at the way Sirius’ face soured completely.

“Brilliant,” you said, offering Remus your hand. “I’m Y/N: unfortunate Charms partner and reluctant friend.”

He smiled back and something stirred inside you at the way his grin pulled at his features handsomely, the scars littered across his cheeks shining delicately in the light. His expression dropped though, a sweet blush flushing his face, as he lifted his hand. His eyes were almost apologetic as you noticed the stark white bandages wrapped around his fingers all the way up his arm. You shrugged nonchalantly and his lovely smile returned.

“Remus: also, reluctant friend and even more reluctant roommate.”

You beamed at his response, enjoying it when he mirrored your expression even though his shoulders were hunched shyly.

“Great, and now you’re friends,” Sirius sighed, mock annoyance riddling his features.

“Earth to Y/N,” a familiar voice shouted, breaking you from your reverie. You saw Sirius a couple rows away, shouting at you and waving his hands wildly. You made a face at him, gesturing for him to calm down. Remus was smiling at you softly as you approached, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was as pleased to see you as you were, undeniably, to see him.

“You alright there, Y/N? Didn’t realise Divination was on the quidditch bleachers today.” Sirius said with a smirk.

“Oh, shove off,” you tutted; rolling your eyes as you got closer, standing in the space they’d probably saved for Lily.

You stood next to Remus, ignoring Sirius’ wink as he went back to shouting about Quidditch and picking fights with the nearby houses.

“Ignore him,” Remus said, rolling his eyes. “He’s been a prat all day because it’s the Slytherin game.”

You nodded, shooting Sirius a look almost identical to the one Remus had – he may have been an annoying bastard but he was, in fact, quite loveable.

“I ran into Lily in the corridor, literally actually,” you said, turning to face Remus, briefly distracted by the warm green of his eyes. “She said she can’t come – some head girl crap.”

“Oh, that’s a shame.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, looking around to see your friends, unable to spot them.

“You can watch with us,” Remus offered very quickly. He seemed to realise his rush as his cheeks heated up and he looked straight ahead, blinking. You had to laugh at his reaction.

“I’d love that.”

You sat down next to him, watching his face as he messed around with his coat to make more room for you. He looked rather cosy in his coat and gloves; his Gryffindor scarf tucked under his chin. Rather cute too.

“Has he been like that the whole time?” you asked, pointing at Sirius, who kept shoving his hair out of his face as he began jumping, the players finally out on the pitch.

“I wish,” Remus groaned, rubbing his face with both hands. “A Ravenclaw prefect told him to shut up earlier and he almost flashed her.”

Though you felt for him, you couldn’t help your grin at Sirius’ antics.

“Y/N, love,” Sirius looked down at you, making grabby hands. “Can I borrow a hair bobble?”

You tore the scrunchie off your wrist, too distracted with Remus and the rush of recent events to think about it all that much, and passed it to him.

“Merlin, this is definitely my colour.”

You and Remus both tried to ignore Sirius throughout the game, but with the Slytherin team playing a little dirtier than usual, certain parts had all three of you up on your feet.

“Rem, give us your gloves,” Sirius insisted during the timeout, rubbing his hands together loudly. Looking at him, you noticed how inappropriately dressed for the weather he was in his t-shirt and jeans, perhapssomewhat unsurprisingly. Without argument, Remus passed over his gloves before turning to you. His deadpan expression made you laugh.

“He’s a liability,” he muttered, making you laugh harder. You fell into a comfortable silence before you remembered the proof you had that not every decision you made was as awful as making friends with Sirius. Remus watched you with fond eyes as you gasped and began rifling through your coat. When you pulled out half a bar of chocolate, though he didn’t think it possible, he liked you even more. It only got better when you offered him some. You noticed, when he grabbed the wrapper, the dark maroon-coloured birthmark on the palm of his hand and down his fingers, intersected occasionally with silvery scars. You didn’t have time to think more about it; the players already soaring back into the air.

James was testing your patience at this point. He’d made several very bad choices trying to stay on par with the Slytherin team without cheating. He kept making sharp turns and dramatic swoops with the quaffle and the whole stadium was holding its breath – even Sirius had shut up. You and Remus were both close to a heart attack with how many close calls James’d had. It wasn’t until he got hit by a stray bludger that you both stood up, Remus anxiously reaching out to grab your hand. He didn’t find your hand, though; his long, now icy cold, fingers circled your wrist, a perfect fit for your birthmark. You probably wouldn’t have noticed with all the action going on had a searing pain not shot up your arm. You hissed, as did Remus, and you both yanked your arms away sharply.

“What the-“ you began before your eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Holy shit.”

Remus stared down at his hand and then back at you and then back at his hand countless times before he settled on you, his raised eyebrows lowering slightly as a smile crept onto his lips.

“It’s you,” he said breathlessly. His words reminded you of what going home felt like and as his smile grew, you felt yourself mirroring him, a warm feeling flooding through your system.

“I can’t say I’m disap-”

Cheers echoed through the crowd and you were interrupted by what you’d been, perhaps justifiably, distracted from. James, who had been dangling from his broom by one hand, pulled himself back up; an impressive move regardless of how awkwardly he did it. Even from far away, you could see how pleased with himself he was and despite yourself, you ended up mimicking Sirius with shouts and whistles. Remus wasn’t paying any attention, though. He just watched as you cheered for his friend, your mouth wide in a smile and your eyes lively and bright and for once in his life, he felt like everything would actually be alright.

#writing #imagine #Remus Lupin imagine #Remus Lupin x reader #remus lupin #Harry Potter imagine #harry potter

[rachelbethhines]

Tangled Salt Marathon - The Return of the King

So we’re back to the quasi-filler stuff. This episode does set a few things up for the finale, like bringing Edmund to Corona, but none of those things are actually good and it’s still mostly filled with irrelevant shit alongside the more important stuff. 

Summary: King Edmund arrives in Corona to see his long-lost son, Eugene, and to give him the royal sash of their bloodline. Eugene wants nothing to do with him, but Rapunzel invites him to stay. Later, the sash is stolen and a ransom note is left behind. Edmund and Eugene decide to go and retrieve it. Meanwhile, the Stabbington Brothers plot revenge on Eugene as they are both viewed as a joke by the other criminals.

So How Did the Stabbingtons Escape the Prison Barge 

Last we saw them they were stuck on a prison barge along with Lady Caine and all of the other season one villains. How did they escape? Did Lady Caine or anybody else make it out? If so then where are they this season? 

We’re not going to get any of those questions answered are we? 

Man this is just sloppy continuity. Which ironic, because these two were only brought back this season because of continuity. They need to be “redeemed” so that they can be at the wedding. I guess it just sucks to be you if you’re an original villain for this show and not named Cassandra. 

Why Is This Deserving of Ridicule? 

Like...We’re talking about a world renowned thief and adventurer and his magical royal girlfriend who are well known enough outside of Corona to be mentioned and there for no doubt people know how they both defeated monsters, daemons, and several criminals besides just there two guys, right? 

This plot point makes no sense. 

You could just kick these dumbasses butts and be done with it. I doubt they’d bother picking on you again if you did.  

Did we really need even more motivation for them to want revenged against Eugene?

Rapunzel is Back to Being Her Bossy Self 

Rapunzel has not earned the role of “wise administrator” yet. She’s only been out of the tower for two years now and she has yet to prove to the audience that she has managed to learn anything since then. By jumping the gun and forcing her into a role that she hasn’t grown into, and by ignoring that this whole show started out as a coming of age story, it just makes Rapunzel unpleasant to be around. All her “advice” is just her ordering people about with a veneer of chipperness to try and mask her controlling nature. People who should know more about their own lives than she does and have no reason to listen to her.  

So We’re Showing Rapunzel Being Responsible... By Having Her Avoid Responsibility? 

Part of why the writers made her “acting queen” for the first half the season was to get her to grow into the role of becoming full time queen. However they screwed this up by not having her actually learn anything and having her avoid the real duties a queen preforms. 

What Rapunzel is doing her is just being a socialite busybody. The only administrative thing she does is approve some low-scale building plans for a small business. A thing that would have been handled by a lower official in an actual functioning government.   

Once again Rapunzel is being selfish and doing what she like, ie bossy people around while having them kiss her ass, as the real work of running the kingdom is left to someone else. This isn’t being responsible, it’s being hypocritical, but don't expect anyone to ever call Rapunzel out for this. 

Pointless Action Scene is Pointless

At this point, the low stakes action sequences are just cringe. Like is this an adventure show or not people? Stop forcing crap like this and give us some real conflicts instead.  

How Did You Get Here So Fast Edmund?

It took Rapunzel and company nearly a year to get to the Dark Kingdom. Even if Edmund wasn't delayed with pit stops like they were, it would have still taken him several months to get here by horse. 

Did he take a boat, or have four to six months already past since Rapunzel’s Return? 

I would argue that this episode was aired out of order and should have been later in the season, but Cassandra’s appearance at the end of this story, and Hamnuel’s appearances in later episodes, would suggest otherwise. 

Crap like this is why season’s three timeline doesn’t work unless you stretch everything out to two years instead of one. 

Read the Room Rapunzel

One could argue that Rapunzel is just trying to be polite, but that doesn't really hold water. 

For starters Eugene is clearly upset and has every right to want to set boundaries between himself and Edmund. Ignoring that is incredibly rude and if my significant other ever did such a thing, well they wouldn’t be my significant other for very long. 

Secondly, Rapunzel could have offered other accommodations if she felt pressured to be polite to Edmund. Not only are their lots of inns in a port town known for trade, many of which are probably well-to-do, but there’s also that convent that was mentioned back in season one. It has to be somewhere in Corona itself and as the so far only mentioned major religious organization in the country it would no doubt have stately quarters for when royalty and nobility would visit. 

So not only would it be a suitable place for a visiting king to stay in, as it would be made for such things, but it’s also far enough away that Eugene wouldn’t feel like his space is being invaded but close enough that Edmund could come and go as he pleases. 

By that point it’s still between Edmund and Eugene and Rapunzel can stay out of it, like she should. 

Eugene is Right

These are all valid reasons for cutting someone out of your life. Furthermore, you don’t even need a reason. If you don’t want to associate with somebody then just don't associate with. It’s your life. You don’t have to justify how you choose to live it and people who actually care about you should respect that. 

Unfortunately no one respects Eugene.  

Not Edmund, not Rapunzel, and most certainly not the writers. 

Then Why Don't You Get Closer to Edmund, Rapunzel?

I understand Rapunzel’s viewpoint here. Edmund is the only person she’s ever met who has experienced the same isolation that she has. He’s one of the very few people whom she can empathize with. 

However that doesn’t give her the right to force her views upon her boyfriend. If she cared so much than she could just befriend Edmund herself and leave Eugene out of it. 

Trying to encourage a child to have relationship with a parent who neglected them is super tone deaf at best and outright disrespectful at worst. It’s also highly hypocritical seeing as Rapunzel cut Gothel out of her life for similar reasons and Eugene only ever supported her for it. 

No really, flip the situation. If Eugene tried to encourage Rapunzel to give Gothel a second chance everyone would be slamming him for it. So why does Rapunzel get a free pass? 

Shorty Already Did That, Eugene. Don’t You Remember? 

I mean, you were literally right there when it happened. Are we forgetting season two the same as season one now? 

So Why Are Stan and Pete Suddenly Back, But Not Cap?

I mean we went through all that trouble in Rapunzel’s Return to write them out of the narrative and here they are without any explanation. Why are simple set ups so dang hard for this show? 

Rapunzel is Overstepping Her Bounds Here

Ok, giving Edmund a place to stay is one thing. Suggesting to Eugene that he should give Edmund a chance is not appropriate but still forgivable. But this? 

This crosses a fucking line! 

Eugene is not Rapunzel’s subject. He’s her boyfriend, and a prince in his own right. Rapunzel can’t just volunteer him for crap without his consent. That’s just indirectly ordering him about like she would a servant.  

Once again, flip the script. If Eugene tried to force Rapunzel to work with Gothel everyone would be up in arms. Why is this then deemed okay? 

This is Coercion

Not only is Edmund and Rapunzel trying to guilt trip Eugene here but she even fucking elbows him!

Like this isn’t “cute couple bickering” here. That kind of stuff is reserved only for inconsequential shit. 

This a woman trying to strong arm and guilt trip her husband to be into having a relationship with his abusive father! Because guess what? Neglect is still abuse! 

Rapunzel has zero say in Eugene and Edmund’s relationship. It’s none of her fucking business! Trying to force her into this plot just makes her look like an asshat. 

I mean look at this smug smile! The fucking bitch is proud of being a shit human being and a terrible girlfriend. 

And of course don't expect the show to call out this behavior as wrong because of out of date sexist double standards. If you think any of this is okay then just role reverse Eugene and Rapunzel here and then tell me its still alright. 

The Show Missed a Real Trick By Not Naming Him Horus Instead

Horus, the sun god, would have been a nice bit of irony and given meaning to the name while keeping the joke virtually unchanged. You could have had both lore and a punchline. 

And I would argue that the joke as is, isn’t even funny. Horace is indeed a lame name, but not for the reason that the show gives. It’s lame because it’s not unique enough. There’s already a Disney character named Horace and I’m sure there are real people out there with that name as well since it’s not completely unheard of. So the joke falls flat and winds up insulting anyone with that name. 

Don’t Expect Any Pay Off for Eugene’s Identity Issues This Season

Yeah the show makes a big deal out of Eugene having a mid-life crisis through out season three, but then never resolves it in any meaningful way. 

Edmund Is an Asshole 

I don’t care how “crazy” he is. Calling someone by a name they don't wished to be called is just plain rude. Acknowledging someone’s preferred name is just a basic common courtesy that is expected of everyone. Once again, this isn’t funny, quirky, nor charming, just unpleasant. 

So the Animators Wasted a Model on a No-Named Character Who Only Appears Once

Someone said this little girl appears in season one, but it’s not noticeable if she does. She also doesn’t have a name and this is her only speaking role. What a waste of money. Just have one of the braided girls from the movie instead. You already built models for them and haven’t really used them. 

And before some mentions race here, this is poor rep already cause the character has no impact. 

Turns Out, Varian Didn’t Even Need Those Truth Serum Cookies

Not only does this dumb down Pete to a ridiculous degree, but it also invalidates everything Varian went through in The Alchemist Returns and the grief he got from everyone for using the truth serum. 

Oh, and it’s also lazy writing and a plot contrivance.  

That’s Not Figgy Pudding!

This is Figgy Pudding.

It’s a boiled “pudding” that’s more like a cake with dried fruit in it. During the 14th through 18th centuries such bread puddings were made to be carried around in ones pocket or knapsack for eating on the go. They’re nothing like the creamy custards we call puddings today. 

It also looks nothing like what’s shown on the screen below. 

That’s like a half eaten loaf of wheat bread?  

That’s jelly filled .. apparently...?

Once Again, If You Have to Make Everyone Else Incompetent to Make Your Hero Useful to the Plot Then You Need a New Plot

Rapunzel has zero business in this plot. She doesn’t even need to be in this episode beyond a cameo. Trying to cram her into the protagonist role in a conflict that doesn’t involve her is just a disservice to everyone.  

Winnie The Pooh Is More Mature Than This Show

More of that meta commentary I was talking about last episode, and it just as full of shit as ever. 

Seriously Find Her, Keep Her is the best script I have ever seen in any show. It’s perfectly balanced so that anyone of any age can relate to it. It’s real and heartbreaking and perfectly suitable for small children to understand. There’s no shock value, no darkness, no modern satire, but its far more mature and complex and deep than anything TTS has tried. 

Also Rabbit is a far better father than any dad in this show, while still being cut from the same trope. There’s no shame in being a children’s show when its done well and this now 30 year old kids show runs rings around what ever mess Tangled is trying to sell. 

Eugene Isn’t Exaggerating Here and I Don't Know How to Feel About That

Turns out Eugene did grow up with these guys the same as he did with Lance. It’ll be confirmed only two episodes later. That just recontextualizes everything. He didn’t just betray some rando guys that he held no feelings for, he betrayed people that he’s known and worked with since childhood. 

Now just because he’s known them doesn’t mean that they were family to him like Lance, but like the fact that he keeps claiming then as such through out the episode would suggest that perhaps they were like siblings. 

That’s ... ingenious. That makes Flynn Rider retroactively an even worse person and gives the Stabbingtons real reason for vengeance. 

Only the show doesn't do anything with this!  It just makes Eugene an even bigger jerk in the movie for zero reason. 

Let Me Reiterate, Edmund Is an Asshole 

Just like with Frederic, Cassandra, and Rapunzel the show uses framing to try and make the audience side with people who do unforgivable things. 

Edmund is an abuser. He neglected his own son for 25 years. But the show presents him as “funny” and “quriky” and “look at his pouty face, he’s so lonely”.... 

No!

Edmund isn’t deserving of anything and how he treats Eugene here is garbage. 

This show is utter crap writing wise but boy does it know how to gaslight its own audience into siding with bullies and abusers.  

Eugene Is One Thousand Percent In the Right Here, But Don’t Expect the Narrative to Acknowledge That

There’s nothing you can do to make up for that. 

Eugene might forgive him. Eugene might move on from it. Eugene might decide a relationship it still worth having with Edmund. But the horrible thing still happened and it happened because Edmund allowed it to happen. There’s no going back from that and everything going forward has to be on Eugene’s terms alone. 

But the narrative won't allow Eugene that agency. 

Even as he makes his grand proclamation about being done with Edmund the cameras chooses to focus on Edmund and his feelings. The story is already priming the audience to prioritize Edmund over Eugene so that when the forced and contrived forgiveness scene comes we won't question it. But it only comes because Chris doesn’t deem Eugene as individual person with thoughts and feels of his own, but as an avatar to fulfill his wishfulment fantasy regarding his own personal daddy issues. 

Rapunzel’s Characterization in Season Three is Just....Off

Ok, even ignoring the major stuff, like not recognizing what she’s done wrong, putting her into roles she’s not meant to carry, and making her a shitty girlfriend suddenly, Rapunzel just behaves contrary to her character all through out season three even in small subtle ways like here. 

On the surface this seems like a clever call back to Great Expotations, but lets examine more closely, shall we. 

On one end we have yo-yos; an invention that’s been around since ancient Greece and is so wide spread across the globe that the word “yo-yo” itself is theorized to come from Indonesia and the Philippines.

On the other end there is Rapunzel. A woman who spent 18 years isolated inside of a tower, because of this she is both ignorant of somethings and insatiability curious and eager to learn.  Or at least she was, until striking out onto a year long road trip, and having now been out of the tower for only two years, claims to know better than the entire fucking world about this object who’s existence she didn’t even know about until only a year and half ago! 

Like what kind of sense does this make? Why would you abandon the core of her drive and motivation, to learn, explore, and grow, and then call it “development”? 

How Did Edmund Get Beat By These Guys?

Edmund took out Adria. The Brotherhood is suppose to be the best physical fighters in this world and Edmund is supposed to be best out of all of them. Yet he’s taken out by two random, mediocre dudes who didn't even jump him. They gave him time to respond and he stood up to fight them. 

Was all his physical prowess tied into that axe? Is the axe magic? 

If you characters have to be depowered for unexplained reasons for the plot to work than you haven’t a good plot. 

This Isn’t as Heartwarming as You Think It Is Show

If Edmund knew where Eugene was this whole time then he could have actually provided for his son. He could have arranged adoption with someone by letter, sent money, food, clothes, ect, maybe even wrote to Eugene directly and kept up a long distance relationship to be there for him emotionally. 

There is literally no excuse anymore for Edmund to hide behind. He literally neglected his duties as a parent, just cause. 

Finding these things shouldn’t make Eugene happy. Finding these things should piss him off even further because that’s how any logical adult would respond to this bullcrap. 

I sure know I’m angry. I’m angry that Eugene is a pawn for the creators’ writing wank-off rather then being treated as human being; as an actual character. 

“Nice” Isn’t the Same Thing as Kind, Rapunzel

One could argue that she’s not even superficially nice in season three, but the real problem here is that the show, and by extension Rapunzel herself, doesn’t understand the difference between being “pleasant” and actually being a good person. Outwardly polite people can stab you in the back, can kill you even, and not care, as Rapunzel has demonstrated repeatedly since season one.   

Do They Have to Be “Family” for Eugene to Give a Damn? 

Can’t Eugene just do the right thing, because it’s the right thing to do? People don't need to be friends and family to care about each others lives. Kindness isn’t transactional. Empathy and true charity doesn’t come with strings attached. If Eugene’s whole arc is about becoming a better person, then making the Stabbingtons “family” kind of undermines this. 

Don’t Reward the Dude for Doing the Bare Fucking Minimal 

No seriously. Edmund forfeited the right to ever be called “dad” by Eugene a long fucking time ago. He doesn’t get to be called that now just because he stopped being a piece of scum and showed the bare minimal of human decency. Even if Eugene decides to have a relationship with Edmund after this, it doesn’t mean that  he has to be recognized as his dad or that that relationship will be a parental one.  

Eugene, and by Extension the Show, Places Rapunzel Upon a Pedestal to  the Detriment of All

Only 4 villains out of 20 get redeemed in this show. Four, and yes I’m counting the Stabbintions as one entity here. That’s 16 times Rapunzel failed to give someone a second chance just cause she didn’t feel like it that day, and even here she did fuck all in trying to give the Stabbingtons any sort of chance. That was all on Eugene. 

The more this show goes on, the more it looks like Eugene is just in love with the idea of Rapunzel rather than who she actually is as a person. It’s a disservice to both their characters but it damages Rapunzel most of all because the show perpetuates this over idealization to everyone she interacts with. 

It’s really sickening to watch and terrifying to know that some uphold this selfish brat as a “role model” for little girls. There’s nothing empowering in being an inhuman “goddess” who can do no wrong....even as they do several wrongs and never gets called out on it.    

This Isn’t “Cute”

Eugene can’t even have an opinion on a fucking toy!

Look if you still like New Dream despite how horribly written it is this season, then good for you. That is completely understandable, especially since this is mainly a problem with season three and not really in the first two seasons and certainly not in the movie. 

But if you try to deny that they aren’t toxic in season three, that people who do have problems with how they’re written aren’t valid in their concerns, than you’re either someone who hasn’t been paying attention or someone who has gross double standards for women in relationships. 

This Scene Is A Waste of Time

This doesn’t tell the audience anything. It contradicts what was previously established concerning her powers without explanation and then just throws the creepy girl voice in there for a lazy hook. It doesn’t work at foreshadowing since we repeat this info all over again in the next episode and it doesn’t expand upon neither Zhan Tiri’s nor Cassandra’s characters.

 In fact it kind of contradicts Cassandra’s characterization in the last episode as well. Is she a remorseless bad bitch or a vulnerable woobie? She can’t be both. Not in the way show is going about it anyways. 

It’s poor time management and poor storytelling. 

Conclusion

It was mildly better than Rapunzel’s Return, but that’s not saying much. Everyone’s character is still circling the drain and there’s no escape line in sight. 

But before I close out, here is a real world update. I had to quit my job at Amazon for personal reasons and am currently job hunting. I’m not hurting right now, I do have money saved up to cover me for at least a month and I’ve been doing commissions here and there, however despite having more time technically to write these reviews, I’m now having to juggle it along with artwork and job hunting. 

If you would like to support my reviews and other personal projects you can send me a tip over at Ko-Fi and more public commissions will be opening soon over there as well.  

https://ko-fi.com/rachelbethhines

#eugene #anti-rapunzel #anti-tangled #tangled #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure

[thiswasinevitableid]

1. Siren Indruck NSFW, Duck is hauling supplies for the small town of Kepler on a tiny boat. Due to dangerous storms, Duck takes a longer but safer and less traversed route. He doesn’t know he’ll be passing through a Siren’s territory. A siren who is looking for a strong and sturdy mate

Here you go!

Duck never tells anyone what he finds on the beach that day. 

He’s fourteen, looking for useful flotsam and jetsam tossed onto the sand by an ongoing storm. What he finds is an empty boat and a merman, silvery tail impaled with a spear in a piece of driftwood. Each time he tries to free himself, he winces and is unable to pull the weapon from his body. When he sees Duck, his red eyes widen and he bares sharp teeth in a hiss. 

“It’s okay” the boy kneels in the bloody sand, “I ain’t gonna hurt you. Or, uh, this’ll hurt for a sec, but it’ll be better than tryin to ease it out bit by bit.” He grabs the end of the fishing spear and pulls. The merman shrieks, quickly clamping his hands across his mouth as Duck pulls his handkerchief from his pocket to bandage the wound. 

“There, you should be able to-”

The creature is gone with a whip of his tail, sliding down the sand and into the waves. As Duck stands, a strange song floats from the foam for the briefest instant. A seasoned sailor can tell a siren from a normal mer on sight; Duck has never been to sea. It’s weeks later that he wonders what events resulted in the wounded siren and an empty boat. 

-------------------------------

Any other day, Duck would put off this run until the black clouds no longer hung over the horizon. But the supply run last week didn’t come, so the isolated, coastal town of Kepler is running low on, among other things, the medicine needed to treat an illness spreading from house to house. He could put this off until tomorrow, but he won’t sleep well tonight if he does.

The boat loaded, he starts out to sea under unfriendly skies. Today is a day to follow the coastline and then circle Greenbriar Island to reach Kepler, rather than trying for a straight shot.  It’ll double his travel time, but it’s far safer in a storm and no one but a few locals know how to navigate it. Duck takes this route once or twice most years. This summer alone he’s had to take it six times, with today making a seventh. The abnormal number of storms weighs on the minds of coastal residents. Duck tries not to obsess over it, given that it’s solidly out of his control and there’s no use fussing over wind and rain; there’s only getting through them. 

Halfway through his journey, a rogue swell catches the underside of the boat and drags it along a rock, springing a leak in the hull. He ties off on a thin spire of stone, clambering onto a rock to try and repair the damage. It’s not a big leak, but it’ll be trouble if he lets it go. 

As he’s laying awkwardly with water lapping up his legs, a human head rises from the water a few feet from him. Silver hair, red eyes and, when it smiles, very sharp teeth. Harmless mermaids have teeth much like his own, which means he’s alone in the ocean with a fucking siren.

Duck’s learned many things since that day on the beach; how a song can paralyze a man better than poison, how the bite marks on the skin of certain bodies that wash ashore are called siren kisses

The siren begins swimming closer. Duck sighs, “If you’re gonna drown and eat me, can you do it on the way back?”

Red eyes blink, confused, but the siren stays where he is. 

“If I don’t make it to Kepler, lotta folks’ll get sick, some will even die. And I don’t think you got much use for medicine and canned food.”

The siren shakes his head. 

“Glad you understand.” Duck finishes his repairs under watchful eyes. At one point, the siren swims all the way to the rock Duck is perched on, resting his chin on his hands, as if enjoying the view. 

Duck scrambles back into the boat the moment he’s done, but no cold fingers try for his ankles and no splash announces something lunging upwards after him. A cautious glance as he starts the engine finds the siren sitting on the rock, silver-blue tail still half in the water. When he notices Duck looking, he waves. 

The rest of the journey goes as planned, the relief on folks faces when Duck docks worth the peril. When he reaches the siren’s territory on his return, no song tempts him. A lithe shape keeps pace with the boat, fin breaking the surface now and then. When he hits open water, the siren turns back, disappearing from view. 

-----------------------

There are sex dreams, and then there’s whatever the fuck Duck is having right now. Fingers stroke his hair, cling to his shoulders. Kisses coat his face and a voice whispers his name as the speaker offers themself to him again and again. He sees himself tangled with a man, face always just out of focus, who spreads his legs and lips so Duck can sink himself into the heat of his body. The dream is endless and he doesn’t care, doesn’t ever want to wake up. 

Saltwater in his lungs renders that desire useless. He snaps back to consciousness as another wave hits him; he’s up to his neck  in the cove below his house. 

“The fuck?” It’s only his footprints visible in the moonlight in the sand, so no one dumped him here. 

“Oh dear.”

“Jesus!” Duck stumbles back as glowing eyes peer around a rock. It’s the siren from yesterday, swimming purposefully as Duck wades backwards. 

“Look, uh, when I said I wanted you to wait to eat me, I wasn’t bein serious. Or, uh, I was, but I meant I didn’t want to be eaten ever, not just then. It was a, uh, a joke.”

“I am aware.” The siren stops as Duck topples on his ass in the shallow water, “and I am sorry. I, ah, I did not mean to lure you from your bed. I was not aware my mindless singing was enough to wake you. In most futures, you slept until dawn.”

“Uh huh, sure, because sirens are known to just serenade folks without wanting to drown ‘em.” 

“We do it more often than you might think.” The siren sighs, “I came here to keep you safe, and succeeded only in making you afraid.”

Duck, having scooted inelegantly onto dry land, watches the tan upper body of the siren sag. It’s awkward, a word not associated with this kind of mer. That suggests he’s telling the truth. 

“You gonna tell me why you’re playin watchdog at my house?” 

The siren chirps, intrigued, “In all but one future you told me to go away.”

“That’d just leave me with more questions. And so far, you ain’t done anythin other’n watch me; if you say this was an accident, I’m willin to hear you out.”

“Wonderful!” The siren claps his hands together and the tip of his tail flips out of the water. Then he clears his throat and recites, “I am known as Indrid Cold. As you noticed, I am a siren. I am also a gifted seer, artist, and lifeguard when humans are unconscious and thus will not try to kill me for rescuing them. I am an excellent fisher, and well-liked and/or feared by the larger creatures of this coastline. This is why I think I would be an excellent mate.”

“O-kay. Did you call me out here to practice your personals ad?” Duck smirks, charmed by Indrids earnest tone.

“This is not practice. I did a great deal of that earlier today. This is my formal declaration that I would very much like you to be my mate.”

“Ma--hold on.” The images from his near-fatal dream return, “were you singin’ to hit on me?”

Indrid crosses his arms, “For the last time, that song was not for you. It was about you, because I was daydreaming and my formless melody unintentionally conveyed the contents of said daydream into your mind.”

“So everythin in it, all that wild fuckin stuff, that’s stuff you wanna do with me?”

A nod, accompanied by a flash of white light under the water. 

“Why?”

“Because you are strong, and handsome, and capable on the water. I watched your futures yesterday and today and saw you are kind as well, well-liked by other humans but a little lonely at night. You are very nice to that small land-otter that lives in your house.”

“You mean the cat?”

“That’s the word! Yes, you are nice to your cat. You are not brash or cruel, and you look so very nice without a shirt. I...I like you, Duck. You are everything I want in a mate.”

“Feel like I might be missin’ some gills and fins.” He jokes to cover the fact he’s scanning his mind and body for the same dreamy lull he felt during the song. What he finds in it’s place is his ego purring from praise and wondering exactly what a siren would do for his mate.

“There is no rule that says I must choose only my own kind for such activities. I, ah, I know it is strange, given how little we know of each other, but I thought that, ah, since humans will have casual sex with each other maybe we could, or, ah, that is…” He’s watching Duck with such unconcealed hope that the human almost joins him in the water.

“Indrid, I’m real flattered. But I’d be a damn fool if I didn’t point out this feels like a fuckin trap. Pretty easy for you to drag me to my death once we’re, uh, in the middle of things. Not that I’m sayin you would.” He adds when the sirens smile dims. 

“A sensible concern. May I join you on land for a moment? There is something I want to show you.”

Duck pats the sand beside him, eyes following the ripples of Indrid’s tail as he swims, slithers, and slides onto the beach. It reminds Duck of an oarfish, though when Indrid spies him looking the scales flash deep purple. 

“Look there” Indrid points toward the end of the silver ribbon of scales; a round, white scar stares up at Duck. The details of a day over two decades in the past return to him.

“You’re the siren I found when I was a kid.”

“Indeed. I remember you by your eyes, though your face has some echoes of that day in it’s curves. You saved my life, showed me mercy when I expected none. Sirens do not forget a favor, and we do not kill those who once spared us. I will never harm you, even if you turn me away tonight. You will be safe, whether that is in my arms or merely in my territory.”

Duck avoids the stranger sides of life by the sea, citing a lifelong incompatibility with the weird. Turns out all he needed to find his exception to that rule is a handsome siren looking at him like he set the tides in motion. 

The human runs a finger up the sirens tail, sparks of purple and pale blue light igniting in it’s wake. 

“Didn’t know y’all changed colors.” He pets Indrid’s hip and the whole tail lights up this time. 

“I am a deep-sea siren by birth, we use light to communicate emotions.”

“Mind, uh, loopin me in on the conversation?”

“Purple means desire. It’s a common color in mating displays.” Indrid watches Duck’s hand  glide along his scales, and a burst of pale blue reflects across their faces. 

“And that one?”

“Submission.” Indrid murmurs, “it is, ah, not the most desirable color to show. My kind value strength and power; enjoying the opposite is an invitation to mockery.” The siren’s eyes stay downcast, even when Duck smooths silver hair from his face.

“Now, I like to joke as much as the next fella, but that don’t seem like somethin to tease about.”

“No?” Indrid’s gaze flicks onto Duck the instant before the man straddles him. Duck doesn’t even have to push him onto his back; he goes instantly, hands flat on the sand and tail twitching excitedly in the shallows. 

“No. Seems to me a sweet thing like you oughta be takin care of.” 

Indrid snickers, “That is not usually an adjective one uses for meAHahnn” he arches as Duck tugs his hair.

“Let’s get one thing straight, sugar; I decide what you get called. I wanna call you the most perfect creature in the sea, I will. And if I wanna call you a needy little mer who’s good for nothin but gettin fucked into the sand, you’re gonna nod and say ‘yes.’ Understood?”

The blue light flashing up his tail brightens, “Y-yes but, but why do you call me sugar? That is a food.”

Duck giggles, leans down to brush their noses together, “It’s a nickname, call you it because you’re sweet and I can’t wait to get my fill of you.”

“Ohhhh, I see.” 

“You wanna see somethin else?”

“Very much soOH, oh goodness.” Indrid gasps as Duck forces his gaze towards his cock attempting to free itself from his boxers. He grinds on the supple muscle of his tail to take the pressure off, chuckles when the siren whines and tries to kiss his chest. 

“Since you’re the only siren I’d ever even consider fuckin-” Duck pauses as Indrid moans loudly, digging his fingers into the sand, “you gotta show me how to go about it.”

“If, if you just continue as you are a little higher upyes, yes right there” He rolls his hips, purrs with such a blissful expression that Duck is powerless to do anything but kiss him. His affection grows when he notices Indrid clearly restraining his kisses so as not to catch Duck’s mouth or tongue with his sharp teeth. The last guy he fucked shoved his tongue down his throat without any build-up or finesse, and now all he can think is if only Indrid had made his feelings know sooner, Duck could have done away with shitty human dates and had an obedient, eager mer instead. 

“Mmmmm” Indrid licks his lips, runs his fingers up Duck’s sides, “kissing is nice. It is not something sirens often indulge in, so my chances to do it are few and far between.”

“Ain’t that a shame” Duck kisses the corners of his mouth, “lips like these were made to be kissed sore.”

Indrid purrs, wiggling his tail, and Duck looks down to see a slit opening where his clothed cock has been rubbing. 

“Huh. Kinda figured you had-”

“-I have both this and an appendage below it much like your own.”

“Handy.” Duck, in no mood to climb off the purring, otherworldly man, eases the waistband of his damp boxers just under his balls. 

“This, uh, this ain’t gonna actually create a, I mean, I don’t wanna accidentally-”

“Nono, there is no chance of procreation”

“And you’ll be okay with so little of you in the water?”

“Yesyes I will be fine.” Indrid tugs at his hips, bucks his own into the air in frustration. 

“Just checkin’ oh, oh fuck” Indrid is tight and ridged around his dick as it slides in, “fuckin christ, no wonder sailors’ll crash into rocks at the offerin of fuckin a siren, wait, fuck, that was probably rude.”

“I will let it slide” Indrid teases, the end of his tail curling around Duck’s left ankle, “on account of your body is so lovely I would beach myself and die gasping on your doorstep for a chance to touch it.”

“No need for that. All you gotta do is wait here like a good little mer and I’ll fuck you as much as you want.” The slit pulses as Duck slowly fucks in and out, and he knows he’ll have to throw out all his fleshlights after this because nothing will ever compare to the deliciously alien feeling of Indrid around his dick. 

“Do, do not joke about such things.” Indrid whimpers, clinging to his shoulders.

“I ain’t. You wanted a mate, right?”

“Yes, you, so very badly.”

“Well, you got one, and you feel so goddamn good on my cock I ain’t inclined to let you swim off and be someone else’s.”

“I do not want to, I only want you, please, please let me stay.”

Duck stills his hims and the siren writhes as he leans down. The human cups his cheek, “I want you to stay, ‘Drid. I wanna get to know you. Long as you promise you ain’t gonna fuck me unless you want to, and not because you’re scared I’ll turn you loose.”

“I promise.” Indrid initiates the kiss this time, purring when Duck takes his time kissing back. 

“Good. Now that we got that cleared up” Duck sits up, “be a good mate and take what I give you.” He fucks in as hard as he dares, dives back down to kiss Indrid’s lips and throat as the mer’s cock emerges. Duck finds he can grind his ass along the twisting shaft at the same time he drives his own into Indrid’s body, resulting in a wail of pleasure and teeth sinking into his shoulder. 

“Fuck!”

“Sorry!” Indrid squeaks, hiding his face in Duck’s neck, “it, it is a reflex-”

Duck yanks his head back to his shoulder, near the first mark, and holds it down, “Do it again.”

Indrid trills and pain lights up Duck’s body, the perfect counterpoint to the pleasure coursing through him with each roll of their bodies. The siren chirps and moans, nips his arms and ears, slides his tail along his legs as his cock pumps frantically against his ass.

“That’s it sweet thing, cum for me while I fuck you. Show me just what my mate is for.” Duck bites Indrid’s neck and cum splatters the backs of his thighs as Indrid’s repetitions of his name drown out the noise of the waves.  Duck’s orgasm follows fast, sweeps through him like the crescendo of a song carried on the night air. 

Duck stays buried in him well after he’s finished, mind already conjuring images of tying Indrid down in shallow water and keeping his cock warm all day.

“Duck?”

“Yeah, sugar?” 

“I, ah, I need to get back in the water.”

“Oh shit, yeah, sure.” He pulls out, tosses his sea-soaked boxers up the beach as Indrid slides into the sea. Duck wades in, stopping where it’s waist deep as the siren swims lazily circles around him. 

“Such a perfect mate.”

“Glad you still think so.”

Indrid curls up to him, rubbing their cheeks together, “Thank you for indulging me. Do...do you wish me to come back tomorrow? Or to stay tonight? There are no other mers between here and my territory, so there is no reason I cannot count this stretch as mine.”

Duck kisses one of the hickeys blooming on tan skin, “How’s about you stay the night. We got some things to talk about. And, if you’re real good, I might let you fuck me when we’re done.”

Indrid grins, “My dearest one, I believe we have a deal.”

----------------------------------------------

Nowadays, if you ever go near Kepler and the surrounding islands, you may hear people talk about Duck Newton, beloved native son, skilled park ranger, and the only man receive siren kisses and live to tell the tale. 

#indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #mermaid au #siren au #monster march #monster boyfriend

[fluffymisha97]

Peaches

Summary: The reader and Chris have inside jokes about peaches.

The two of you were watching the movie ‘Call me by your name’ and both stilled a bit when the peach scene flashed across the screen. You had to bite your lips from laughing due to your cringe-radar going of the rails. Seeing Chris engrossed in the movie, you kept your mouth shut. It wasn’t until you were laying in bed before Chris brought it up.

“So, that peach scene. What did ya think?”

Chris had a goofy smile. He too must have kept himself from laughing earlier. Or that’s what you thought. 

“I think it’s bold when people do that. Weird, uhh yeah but whatever floats their boats. I know it’s like a thing where some people are into it? But I don’t know. I mean think about the possibilities of getting an allergic reaction while going at it and then it’s down there.”

You laughed a bit while talking about it. It was not something that you’d ever explored in your youthful and innocent days. You once almost considered buying a vibrator in the shape of a banana but concluded that it would be weird and ruin your relationship to bananas. 

Chris looked down after hearing what you’d just said. His ears the turned completely red. He turned away from you to dive under the covers. You then realized that your boyfriend has had his very one CMBYN moment at a point in his life. You let out the biggest gasp ever while now laughing like a hyena. Chris tried to hide under the covers from pure embarrassment but that wasn’t happening on your watch. You rolled over to half straddle him so you could demand some answers.

“OMG Tell me everything. How…where or why most importantly.”

You were now grinning from ear to ear and waited patiently for the storytime to begin. Like a little child. Chris let out a huge sigh and figured he might as well get it over knowing you wouldn’t let it go.

“Okay, okay. But no judging. I was young and didn’t know how or what to do with a girl. I may have been in my early teen years. Some guys at school talked about it and I thought ‘hey why not’. You know to practice. They all said it was a great way to get the hang of things. But anyway, I stole some of Ma’s peaches from her tree in the garden and yeah that’s that.”

He was trying to shut it down, but you could tell that there was more to the story. You nudged him to continue.

“BUT I didn’t go all the way… I mean I didn’t… finish like in the movie. I doubt that I even knew how to at the time.”

“Damn you naughty boy, Chris. This is sooo good. I would never have guess that.”

Chris only let out a huge groan while hiding his face in the crock of your neck.

About a month later Chris’s parents had invited the two of you over to a family dinner. After an amazing dinner, Lisa emerged from the kitchen with a platter in her hands.

“Who’s up for pie?”

“ME ME ME” all her children shouted.

“What kind is it Ma?” Chris had asked.

“Peach.”

Lisa smiled brightly before placing it on the table. You laughed/snorted so loudly that it caught everyone’s attention. Chris growled at you and squeezed your thigh in a warning manner.

You had teased Chris over the last couple of weeks since he had come clean about his peach-run in. You almost felt bad for teasing him. You would wear the peach colored clothing more often around the house and eat peaches in front of him. The teasing only happened while you were alone and you swore the day, he told you, that you would keep his secret.

The entire table looked puzzled due to your behavior. Lisa let out a little chuckle as she came to sit next to Chris.  She had also noticed the change in Chris’s demeanor.

“You finally told her about your little experiments with the peaches.”

Chris’s jaw dropped completely while his mother started handing out pieces of pie completely unfazed. Chris still looked shocked when people began digging into their pie.

“MA?! You knew about that? How did you know?”

“Well honey you weren’t exactly discrete about it and I also cleaned your room which meant taking out your trash.”

The entire table burst into laughter. He noticed his siblings whispering. 

“Oh God…You ALL knew, and no one said anything? I can’t believe my entire family knew...Dear God, kill me now.”

Scott was the first to speak.

“Dude, I didn’t know until many years later. I thought it be smart to have something on you. But WOW.”

Everyone at the table was still laughing. Chris tried to hide behind you while feeling the embarrassment reach his face. You almost felt bad for the poor baby. You leaned over and kiss him on the lips quickly before digging into the most delicious piece of pie ever. Chis let out a laugh before eating his pie. It was indeed a delicious pie. 

(Just messing around :D. Forgive me if I offend anyone. ) 

#Chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #Chris Evans x y/n

[ollieofthebeholder]

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

Tumblr tag || Also on AO3

Chapter 26: Jon

When Jon’s grandmother passed away peacefully in her sleep, not long after his twenty-fourth birthday, he quickly discovered that her life insurance and savings weren’t enough to cover all the bills that needed to be covered and put the house he’d grown up in on the market. He only vaguely remembers the whole procedure, as he was in something of a state of shock at the time, but he does remember accepting the first offer presented to him despite the realtor’s comments that he could “probably hold out for a bit more” if he wanted. Thus, he’s the only one not really startled at the speed with which he, Martin, and Tim find out that they’ve got the house.

To be clear: He’s not startled at the speed. He is, however, startled that they got it. Surely someone must have been willing to pay more for it, been better qualified. But no. They learn their offer has been accepted less than a week after the Primes’ disastrous encounter with Basira’s partner and the closing is scheduled for the following Friday. Martin theorizes that their position at the Magnus Institute gave them some extra clout. Tim jokes that it’s his charismatic personality. Jon frets that Elias might have had something to do with it for nefarious purposes.

Sasha finally does some research and tells them that it’s being sold by a pair of siblings barely out of their teens whose parents died unexpectedly and probably just need the money fast.

Martin doesn’t have much, just the little he managed to bring with him to the Institute when first escaping Jane Prentiss and the few things he’s re-acquired since then, and Jon’s things are still packed up from when he declined to renew the lease on his flat in August, so it’s mostly just Tim who needs to decide what he’s keeping and what he’s ready to part with or needs to replace. It takes them the better part of two Saturdays, but they manage to get everything boxed and sorted in time to move out the last full weekend of September.

The moving-in process is surprisingly fun. Sasha and the Primes even come to help (Tim suggests the latter so that Martin Prime knows his way around the house from the get-go, which is actually really sensible) and they make a party of it. Tim insists on setting up the sound system first, then gets everyone to contribute a certain number of songs to a playlist on some app he has on his phone. He puts it on shuffle and lets it play while they work together on the various rooms.

“Oh, my God,” Sasha moans after the eighth song that she evidently didn’t pick comes on. “Do any of you listen to a single band that’s put out an album since 1984?”

“Yes,” Martin says indignantly, his cheeks coloring slightly.

“Remasters don’t count.”

Martin Prime grins. “None of mine have come up, either.”

“What did you put on?” Sasha asks suspiciously.

She gets her answer a few minutes later when, after shuffle coughs up a Spice Girls song they all tease her mercilessly about, an honest to God sea shanty comes on. Tim and Jon laugh at Sasha’s dramatic, despairing groan, but it’s hard not to respond to the Martins’ enthusiasm as they—surprisingly—harmonize along with the recording while they set up the living room.

They’re almost done assembling the new bed Tim bullied Jon into buying (“You’re not in uni anymore, you don’t need to be sleeping on a futon, and anyway, when was this made, the Thatcher premiership?” “Brown, and shut up, Tim.”), which is the last piece of furniture they need to put together, when there’s a sound from the front door—two firm, solid knocks, audible all the way upstairs. Jon nearly drops the screwdriver as his heart kicks against his ribs. It’s stupid, and he knows it’s stupid, but two knocks like that always makes him think of that book.

Tim makes a noise in the back of his throat. “God, hope the music isn’t too loud.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Martin says, but he sounds uncertain. “I-I mean, it’s been ages.”

Jon pushes himself to his feet. “I’ll check.”

He hurries out of the bedroom before anyone can comment on the clear break in his voice. He is, and there is no way to deny it to himself, legitimately afraid of what might be outside. The likelihood of it being a being of another entity is slim, but…well, there was Mr. Spider, and Jane Prentiss knocked on Martin’s door more than a few times to keep him off-balance, so there’s always the chance. It’s something he feels he can deal with, though, so he heads out to face it.

He does not, however, expect to open the door and be faced with what is either a small child or a casserole dish with tennis shoes.

“Hello,” a tiny voice says brightly from behind the dish. There’s a bit of shifting, and then two big brown eyes and a mass of curls appear over the rim. “I’ve brought you a cake.”

Jon will deny to his dying day that those words freeze his blood in his veins and make his heart stutter to a stop, but since this might actually be his dying day, he’ll be lying if he tries. His lips part, but no sound comes out.

“And a casserole, too,” the child continues, completely oblivious to Jon’s unwarranted panic attack. “That’s not as much fun, though, but Nan says it’s important to eat good, hearty food when you’ve been doing lots of work and that cake shouldn’t be a whole meal. I think there’s no point in being a grown-up if you can’t eat whatever you want, but…” The child heaves an enormous, dramatic sigh that seems too large for such a small body. “My Nan’s very, very old, and you don’t get to be old if you don’t do something right, so she must know what she’s talking about. Anyway, we made the casserole with lots and lots of cheese and she said that was okay, so at least it’s a little better.”

“Ah—thank you?” Jon manages. “H-here, let me…take that.”

He manages to extract the casserole dish, which certainly feels as if it’s laden with cheese; it weighs the proverbial ton. Quite possibly a literal one. It’s solid enough to anchor Jon to reality, though, and he studies his benefactor. The child can’t be more than seven or eight, at the most, with a round face and limbs hidden in an oversized, threadbare sweater that looks like it’s been handed down through more than a few generations. Dangling from one arm is a wicker basket that does indeed appear to contain a cake.

“It’s a chocolate cake with marshmallow frosting,” the child says. “I tried to write ‘Welcome to the neighborhood’ on it, but I didn’t put the tip on the piping bag right and it came off, so now it’s just a mess, but it’ll taste just as good, I promise. My Nan makes the best cakes.”

Jon smiles in spite of himself. “I don’t think I have enough hands to take it from you now. Would you mind bringing it into the kitchen for me?”

“Oh, sure!” The child practically hops over the threshold. “I always wanted to see what this house was like on the inside. Tibby used to babysit for me sometimes, but she always came over to our house, never me coming over here. Nan says it’s better that way, and Tibby always said it was laid out exactly like all the other houses, but it’s not the same as seeing it for yourself. Firsthand knowledge is best, that’s what I think. What do you think?”

“I—I think I agree with you,” Jon says. He also feels a bit like he’s staring at his younger self. “I assume you live in one of the other houses on the row?”

“Two doors down,” the child agrees cheerfully. “With the window boxes. My Nan likes to garden a bit, but she can’t bend over so much anymore, so Toby set up the window boxes for her a couple years ago.”

“And, uh, who is…Toby?”

“Oh, sorry, I thought you knew. Toby McGill. He and Tibby—that’s his sister Tabitha, but everyone calls her Tibby—they were the ones selling this house after their parents died. He’s at Surrey University now and he says he’s going to stay out there when it’s all said and done, and Tibby got a job on a boat.” The child sounds deeply impressed. “I want to be a sailor someday, too. Can you imagine getting to see the whole wide world by water and getting paid for it, too? I’d never want to leave. I told Tibby she has to save a spot on the crew for me and she laughed and promised, so I can’t wait. I’m going as soon as I grow up. I’m not going to university. You don’t need to go to university for everything, you know. I know Nan really wants me to go ‘cause Mum didn’t and neither did Dad and she doesn’t want me turning out like them, but you can turn out well even if you don’t go to university, can’t you?”

“Absolutely,” Jon says gravely. He casts an involuntary glance in the direction of the stairs, thinking of Martin. “One of my housemates didn’t go to university, and he’s one of the most brilliant people I know.”

“How many of you live here, anyway?”

“Just three of us.” Jon has no idea how much this child has seen and how many people he knows are in the house at the moment.

“Oh. There used to be three of us in my house, too.” The child scuffs a toe against the carpet just before they step into the kitchen. “And then there was going to be four, but Mum died and the baby did, too.”

“I’m sorry,” Jon says softly, feeling a pang. “I grew up with my grandmother, too.”

The child looks up at Jon and smiles, in such a way that Jon can’t help but smile back. “And you turned out okay.”

“Debatable,” Jon says. He sets the casserole dish on the counter. “I’m Jon, by the way. Jonathan Sims.”

“I’m Charlie. Charlie Cane.” The child smiles up at him and hands over the basket. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. Tell your grandmother we said thank you. I don’t know that any of us will have the energy to cook tonight. We’ll bring back the dishes tomorrow.”

“There’s no hurry. Nan doesn’t go anywhere.” Charlie flashes Jon a grin that’s missing two teeth, then turns and waves to the doorway. Jon glances up to see Martin, looking somewhere between worried and amused. “Hi! I’m Charlie Cane. Welcome to the neighborhood. Do you live here, too?”

“Um…yes. I’m Martin Blackwood. It’s…nice to meet you?” Martin raises an eyebrow at Jon.

“Charlie and his grandmother made us a casserole,” Jon says, gesturing at the counter. “And a cake.”

“That’s very nice of you. Thank you.” Martin smiles at Charlie and winks, although Jon doesn’t quite understand why.

“Welcome.” Charlie’s beaming smile could probably light the house for a week. “I’d best go before Nan thinks I’m doing something stupid again. See you later!”

He’s out the front door before Jon can respond, or even blink. He looks back to Martin, who isn’t even trying to hide his amusement. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, Jon. We were just wondering if you were okay. You were gone for a while.”

Jon gestures vaguely at the front door. “I don’t think that child has many people to talk to. Or at least not many people who will listen to him.”

Martin snorts. “I think you’ve got yourself a new best friend.”

Jon almost wants to say something flippant like Just what I need, but thinking on it, he actually doesn’t mind all that much. “Considering how much I would have given to have an adult pay that kind of attention to me when I was his age, I think I can handle that.”

Martin reaches over and pulls Jon into a hug. Jon lets himself be comforted for a moment, then extricates himself gently and smiles. “Come on. Let’s see if the others are ready to eat.”

As it turns out, the others finished putting together the bed and even made it while Jon talked to Charlie, so they’re all too happy to come into the kitchen for a hearty meal. It’s exactly as cheese-laden as Charlie promised. Jon recounts his conversation, to general amusement, although something flickers briefly across Martin Prime’s face and Jon Prime shoots Jon an understanding and slightly frightened look when he repeats Charlie’s opening words. If anyone else notices, they give no sign of it.

Tim lets the music keep playing while they eat. Jon mostly tunes it out, no pun intended, and he rather suspects the others do too. But just as they’re scraping their plates clean—the food is delicious, and Tim declares he’s going to try and charm Charlie’s grandmother out of the recipe—Martin Prime suddenly tilts his head to one side, as if trying to catch a sound. A smile twitches at his lips, and he stands up and holds out a hand to Jon Prime. “May I?”

Jon Prime looks startled for a split-second, then smiles—no, grins—and places his hand in Martin Prime’s. He lets Martin Prime pull him away from the table and into his arms, and the two of them start slow-dancing.

Jon pauses, fork suspended over his plate, and watches them. Jon Prime lets Martin Prime lead him in a simple box step, one arm draped casually over Martin Prime’s shoulder, while Martin Prime’s hand rests firmly at his waist; their other fingers are laced together in a way that would make it difficult to telegraph intended moves if they didn’t—probably—know each other so well. The space between them is so little it’s a wonder they don’t constantly trip over each other’s feet, and before long their foreheads touch. The song is gentle and plaintive, encouragement from one partner to the other to trust and relax and allow the first to take care of the second, a promise that the second person won’t be considered weak or lesser if they allow themselves to be comforted.

I promise you’ll be safe here in my arms…

Martin Prime lifts his arm and spins Jon Prime around gently, and when Jon Prime comes back into the closed frame, he leans his head against the shoulder where his hand isn’t resting and closes his eyes. Martin Prime pulls him closer and rests his cheek alongside Jon Prime’s as they continue dancing. It’s one of the most intimate and romantic things Jon has ever seen, and he almost has to look away from it.

Almost. Not quite. Something keeps him drawn, and there’s a tiny part of Jon’s brain that suggests it probably isn’t just the pleasure at seeing someone who’s basically him safe and happy and in love mixed with the vague sense of longing for something like that—maybe not that exactly, but something like it. It may also be that watching the Primes slow dancing means he doesn’t have to look at anyone else.

The song plays itself out. Martin Prime turns his head slightly; Jon Prime turns his at the same time, and their lips meet gently in the middle. This time Jon does look away. He’s never quite been able to figure out how he feels about kissing, to be honest; it’s one of the things that sent his and Georgie’s relationship down in flames, was the fact that he always acted like you think I’ve got poison in my lip gloss, according to her. But he finds himself wondering for a moment what Martin’s lips would feel like against his, if they’d be as soft and warm as the rest of him. If it might make a difference to kiss Martin instead of Georgie, or Meredith, or Kelly. And that’s not a question he’s comfortable asking himself just then, let alone trying to answer.

The scrape of a chair breaks his attention, and he looks up to see the Primes sitting down like nothing happened, although they’re still holding hands. Tim clears his throat. “Who wants cake?”

The cake is, as promised, a bit of a mess—it looks like someone tried to tease out the blob created by the icing tip popping off with a toothpick or something, but the resultant design looks like the pictures someone showed Jon once of a web woven by a spider that had been fed caffeine, and the fact that the icing is bright red doesn’t help—but it is absolutely delicious.

Afterward, Tim and Jon store the leftovers while Martin and Sasha start on the dishes. Jon Prime glances at the kitchen clock and touches Martin Prime on the shoulder. “We should probably go. The later it gets, the more likely that…someone might cruise by the Institute, and I’d rather not risk that.”

Martin Prime squeezes Jon Prime’s hand gently, and Jon swallows on the sudden surge of nausea. They haven’t seen anything of Detective Tonner, and Basira didn’t say anything about her when she showed up last week to switch out the tapes, but the memory of the Primes’ faces when they stumbled back to Tim’s place to change and return his car is a hard one to shake. Even though Jon Prime swears he and Daisy eventually became friends, it’s the eventually that sticks out, and Jon isn’t sure what he’ll do if Daisy turns up at the Institute. It’s also obvious that the Primes are more afraid of her than they’re letting on.

Tim opens his mouth, probably to invite them to spend the night or something, but Sasha beats him to it. “Can you wait a few minutes? I’d rather not walk to the tube station by myself, if it comes to that, and I think you said there’s an entrance to the tunnels near there.”

Jon Prime frowns slightly. “I…don’t think I did, but there is.”

“We’ll walk with you, Sasha,” Martin Prime assures her.

Tim sighs theatrically. “I feel a little better, which is a relative statement not to be taken as approval.”

“Your objection is duly noted.” Sasha hands Martin a plate to dry.

All too soon, everything is cleaned up, just as the playlist comes to an end, and there’s really no way of stalling them further. There’s a round of hugs and see-you-Mondays, and then Sasha and the Primes head out the door, leaving Jon, Martin, and Tim alone in their new house.

It’s not that late, comparatively, so Jon suggests a card game. They’ve played most nights since Sasha went back to sleeping in her own flat; they’ve played a couple of games of Rummy or Go Fish, and Tim once tried to teach Jon and Martin a game he learned from his grandparents that uses a forty-card deck (Martin picked it up quickly, Jon did not), but most of the time they play Crazy Eights. Tim declares that they’re going to keep playing until either he or Jon or both manage to overtake Martin’s score, which is clearly going to be an impossible task, as he’s up by nearly a thousand points and consistently wins at least three or four games a night. Still, they give it a valiant effort. After Martin manages to go out while both Tim and Jon still have an eight each in their hand, though, they decide to call it quits for one night.

“Someday I’ll figure out how you keep doing that,” Jon says, shuffling the deck lightly before putting it back in the box.

Martin shrugs. “Practice, I guess? I used to play with my granddad a lot when I was younger. We kept a running total, too, and I think I was up three thousand points or so when he died.”

Tim gives a low whistle. “How old were you?”

“Nine. We’d been playing pretty regularly since I was five. At least one game every time I went to visit.”

Jon thinks back to the conversation he and Martin had in Tim’s kitchen the morning after Prentiss’s attack. “Is this the grandfather who had the cherry trees?”

“You remembered.” Martin looks pleased. “Yeah, he was my mum’s dad. I never met my dad’s family, that I remember anyway.” He pauses. “You, uh, you told Charlie you were raised by your grandmother. Was that…?”

Jon didn’t know Martin was there, but he’s kind of glad he doesn’t have to figure out how to bring it up. “My father’s mother. She was…formidable. My father died when I was two, from an accidental fall, and my mother died a couple years later. Surgery complications.”

“I’m sorry,” Martin says softly. “That must have been hard on you.”

“Harder on my grandmother, I think. I was barely old enough to remember them.” All Jon remembers of his father is his laugh, and he’s fairly certain that most of his memories of his mother come from his aunt.

Tim leans forward, resting his arms on the table. “Is she still around? Your grandmother?”

Jon shakes his head. “She died just before I started working at the Institute. What about yours, Tim?”

“My dad’s dad is the only grandparent still around. I think.” Tim worries at his lower lip with his teeth for a moment. “I’d like to think someone would call me if something happened, but I don’t know.”

Martin hums sympathetically. “Is he…in a home?”

“Not as far as I know. Last I heard, he was still living with my parents. Moved in when Granny died, just after I left for university.” Tim sighs. “We’re not…close. After Danny…”

Jon reaches over and touches Tim’s arm gently. “It must be hard on them, losing a son. No parent expects to outlive their child.”

“That’s just it. Mum refuses to believe he’s dead.” Tim smiles weakly. “No body, you know? Dad isn’t sure, but he also thinks I know more than I’ve told them. Grandfather all but accused me of having a hand in Danny’s disappearance.”

“What?” Jon blinks, shocked. “How could anyone think you’d—you would never.”

“I know, but…well, Dad’s family was always a bit conservative, blue collar and all that, and I’m…well, me. I think that’s why Dad encouraged my hiking and camping and all that. Hoped it would knock some ‘sense’ into me,” Tim says with a wry twist of his lips. “Once I came out as bi, though, I think they decided there was no hope left for me. It just got worse after Danny died.”

Martin’s expressive face closes down, and Jon’s stomach lurches. This is the most they’ve talked about their families in…ever, he thinks, but from the little bits of information Martin—and Martin Prime, for that matter—have let slip, Jon has formed a very unfavorable impression of Martin’s mother. He’s always kind of had a hazy idea that Tim’s family situation was better, especially after he heard the pride in his voice when he talked about Danny when giving his statement, and finding out that it wasn’t much better than theirs…

“How old were you?” he asks, not sure why. “When you—told them.”

“Seventeen. There was a guy I’d been seeing—nothing serious, really, but we had fun together—and we went out for Valentine’s Day. My parents were confused because they knew my girlfriend and I had just broken up before Christmas and I hadn’t mentioned another girl, so I told them about Steve.” Tim gets quiet for a second. “Mum cried. Dad just…told me to stop upsetting my mother and never brought it up again. Not until Grandfather started in on me.”

Jon swallows. “You’ve a great deal more courage than I have. I—I never admitted to my grandmother that I ever had any interest in boys, let alone dated one.”

“Only one? You’re missing out.” Tim’s grin is a pale echo of his usual one, but it is at least genuine. “How ‘bout you, Martin?”

“A few.” Martin relaxes with a visible effort that makes Jon’s heart ache. “Been out since I was fourteen. Mum reacted…about as well as she reacted any other time I told her something she didn’t like or did something she wasn’t expecting. I never brought anyone home to meet her or…really talked to her about my dating, and she only ever brought it up in relation to herself. Like saying it was a good thing there wasn’t any risk of me passing on any of my numerous undesirable traits to a helpless child.”

“I don’t think your mum understands what ‘bisexual’ means,” Tim points out.

“Probably not, but it doesn’t matter. I’m gay.” Martin grimaces. “I’m also ace, so no risk there anyway, but…”

Jon wants to say any child would be fortunate to count you as a father or I can’t think of a single undesirable trait about you, but what actually comes out is, “Ace?”

“Uh, asexual. It’s—I don’t…get attracted like that. Romance, sure, aesthetic stuff and all that, but not…” Martin gestures vaguely. “Tried it anyway, for a couple of guys I was with, but i-it didn’t go well.”

Jon’s world view shifts abruptly on its axis. Tim, though, looks suddenly worried. “Are you okay? They didn’t—”

“No, no,” Martin says quickly. “It wasn’t—I just don’t like it. That’s all.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Never bothered telling Mum that part. She wouldn’t…I’ve done enough damage.”

Tim pulls Martin into a quick one-armed hug, and Jon reaches across the table to squeeze his hand as gently as he can, but they change the subject after that.

They end up sitting up for a while in their new living room, relaxing. Tim props his feet up in the recliner and works on a crossword; Jon curls up at one end of the sofa with a book he’s been meaning to read for years that Jon Prime assures him he’ll love; Martin sits at the other end and knits. It about bowled Jon over completely when he learned that Martin made most of the sweaters he wears, but the sight and sound of him working away has become increasingly familiar in the last few weeks, especially after the Primes and the rest of the crew collaborated to get him an array of needles and knitting wool in all colors of the rainbow for his birthday. Jon usually finds the gentle clicking of the needles soothing, but tonight it’s just a hair distracting, and he keeps glancing up from the page to watch Martin’s fingers as they expertly manipulate the yarn or Tim tap the eraser of his pencil thoughtfully against his jaw while he contemplates an answer. He’s not even quite sure what he’s looking at.

Finally, Tim lays down his puzzle with a sigh. “I think I’m gonna turn in,” he says, sounding oddly reluctant. “Long day and all that.”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna—” Martin works a couple more stitches and folds up his project. “Probably a good stopping place for tonight.”

Jon considers saying he’s going to stay in the living room and finish the chapter he’s on, but if he’s being completely honest, he’s been on the same page for however long it’s been and hasn’t taken in a single word. Silently, he slides the scrap of paper he’s currently using as a bookmark back between the pages and closes the book. “Well. Good night, then.”

“’Night, Jon.”

The bedrooms are all upstairs, two on one side and one on the other with the bathroom handy, and the three of them wish each other goodnight again before disappearing into their rooms. Jon closes the door and looks around the room, his room.

There’s not much to it, to be honest. A nightstand, a dresser, a battered desk he’s had since he was a child, a lamp and the bed. He sets the book on top of the desk and changes into his comfortable sleep clothes, then crawls into the bed and pulls the covers up over his shoulders.

It’s…odd. No, not odd. Jon can’t quite think of the right word for it. But the sheets feel unfamiliar against his skin, and they don’t smell right, either, probably because they’re new. The mattress that felt perfectly comfortable when he tested it out in the store doesn’t seem to afford the same comfort now, and he wonders if the floor model has simply had much of the stiffness tested out of it over time. Even the pillows, which he did retain from his old bedroom setup, seem determined to thwart his attempts to find a comfortable position.

He rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling, arm draped over his midsection. He won’t fall asleep like this, he’s always been a side-sleeper, but his mind is a seething roil of emotions and he needs to get his thoughts under control before he can even have a hope of getting comfortable enough to sleep, he guesses.

Asexual. Jon probes at the word, at what it describes. I don’t get attracted like that. I just don’t like it. Honestly, until meeting Georgie, Jon had no idea that sort of attraction really existed; he thought it was just something out of the lurid romance novels his grandmother favored and he’d read once or twice in sheer desperation. It was something she’d wanted, though, so he’d tried a few times, but his efforts hadn’t satisfied her and he never really saw what all the fuss was about. He can take it or leave it, preferably the latter.

He never knew there was a word for it.

Suddenly, he wants to talk to Martin about it, about how he realized, how he knew. Where he found the word. If there are many more like—well, like them, he supposes. If that’s one of the reasons he was reluctant to tell Jon how he felt. He wants to ask about Martin’s experiences, if they were bad just because his body didn’t want them or for some other reason. A part of him also wants to cry from sheer relief. He isn’t broken. There’s nothing wrong with him. Well, not in that respect, anyway.

He sighs heavily and rolls onto his side again, plumping the pillows and curling one arm around them. They’re too flat, he thinks idly, too soft and yielding. Which is odd, because that’s never bothered him before. He can’t seem to get warm, either, which is also bizarre because it’s been an unusually mild day for late September and he’s under the duvet he’s had for years, which suddenly seems too light and insubstantial. The room is too quiet and still. It all feels…wrong, somehow.

Jon closes his eyes and stubbornly tries to force sleep, to no avail. The sense of wrongness pervades his being, curling through him and keeping him tethered to consciousness. He runs through the list of problems he seems to be having and tries to come up with which one might be keeping him awake. The only thing he can think of is the unfamiliar mattress. Everything else is exactly the way it was in his old flat.

And when was the last time you slept there? The thought hits him all of a sudden, and his eyes snap open. He forgot. The last time he slept in his apartment was the night before Jane Prentiss attacked the Institute. Ever since then, he’s been sleeping in Tim’s living room…or in Tim’s bed. With the others.

That’s all it is. He isn’t used to the silence of being alone. He’s not used to not knowing, right away, exactly where Tim and Martin are and if they’re safe. He’ll just go and check on them, see that they’re safe, and he’ll be able to get to sleep just fine.

He throws back the covers, slides his glasses back on, and heads into the hallway. Jon somehow ended up in the room by the bathroom, while Tim and Martin are on the other side of the hallway. Martin’s room is first, though, so Jon heads there. He’s as careful as he can be. Martin is probably asleep by now. He definitely seemed tired while they were still in the living room, and Jon wonders if he lingered because the other two were still sitting down there. It makes him feel slightly guilty, like he should have called it a night earlier so Martin can get some sleep. And after all, they did have a very emotionally draining conversation, which probably exhausted him as well. All that runs through Jon’s mind as he slowly, slowly eases the door open and peers around it to see into Martin’s room.

It’s sparsely furnished; nothing but a bed and one of those flimsy pop-up cloth jobs bisected into cubes, which is serving as his dresser. Martin’s laptop and phone sit on the floor, both connected to their chargers. The bed is mussed slightly and shows signs of having been occupied, but Jon’s heart rate accelerates when he looks at it. It’s empty.

There’s no sign of a struggle, he tells himself, and he heard nothing, so surely everything is fine. Martin’s probably just in the bathroom, or downstairs getting a glass of water or something. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. Jon will just…go check on Tim and Tim will be fine and then he’ll go find Martin and make sure he’s fine and it…will…be…fine. He pulls the door closed and turns to Tim’s room.

The door is slightly ajar, and there’s a faint glow coming from the room. Jon hesitates, then taps lightly on the door three times before easing it open. Tim is sitting up on the bed, cross-legged and leaning forward slightly. And—Jon’s shoulders slump in relief—Martin is there, too, on the edge of the bed, one leg hanging off the side and the other tucked underneath him. They’re talking quietly, but both obviously exhausted. They look up at the sound of the door opening and watch Jon stand in the doorway. He opens his mouth, then realizes he doesn’t know what to say and closes it again.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” Martin asks gently. The circles under his eyes are almost black.

“No,” Jon admits. “I—I just wanted to—” He breaks off, still not sure what to say.

Wordlessly, Tim holds out a hand. Jon lets the bedroom door shut behind him as he comes forward and takes it. Martin wraps an arm around him from behind, and the two of them pull Jon onto the bed and into a lying-down position. Tim rolls over and snaps off the lamp by his bed, then pulls the covers up over all three of them. Jon manages to reach down and snag the middle to help.

“Better,” Tim murmurs.

It’s not a question, but Jon hums in agreement anyway. Trying for levity, he says, “Shame to waste money on new beds, though.”

“We’ll be able to sleep there eventually,” Martin says. Jon only realizes how much stress was in his voice when it’s drastically lessened. “At some point we’ll probably want the space. But for now, there’s this.”

“For now, there’s this,” Jon agrees. He tilts his head back briefly to rest it against Martin’s shoulder, and Martin scoots in closer.

Tim does, too, the two of them sandwiching Jon securely between them. “Get some sleep,” he says. “It’ll be all right tomorrow.”

Jon yawns and closes his eyes, and it doesn’t really surprise him when he falls asleep straightaway. The nightmares are as present as ever, but in the morning, he can almost fool himself into believing they weren’t so bad.

Almost.

#ollie writes fanfic #leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall) #tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #referenced homophobia cw #internalized aphobia cw #panic attacks cw #please click that link and listen to the song #it'll make that bit so much better

[fortheloveoffanfic]

The Reveal

Keanu Reeves x Reader (A/n- Written in the The One That Stays universe, because I love it, and those characters so much. This is about 3 years post the last chapter, and I was really iffy about posting it, but here we are anyway.) 

Warnings- Nothing really, just pregnancy and fluff. 

“And I thought I loved you then.” -Then, Brad Paisley 

Warm yellow rays from the barely cloudy sky cast a picturesque gleam on the surface of cool, blue water. That day, thankfully, hadn't been as sweltering as the ones in the weeks gone by, and the forecast predicted for that weekend had been one conducive to recreational boating, which was why they'd decided to rent a yacht for the weekend. Joining them had been Keanu's side of the family, his sister, her husband and his mother, along with Julie, her husband Eric and their two year old Lucas.

It was their second day out on the water, anchored off the coast of Los Angeles and by late afternoon, everyone had gathered on deck, around the small pool to hang out. Eric had taken to the pool to humor Lucas, as had Keanu's brother in law, while everyone else had kicked back on lounge chairs. Y/n was laid back on Keanu's chest, his worn shirt soft and comforting against her exposure arms as his legs spread slightly to accommodate her bare one. One of his large hands were splayed on her stomach, while the other absently twirled the ends of her hair, something he'd taken to doing after she'd let her tresses grow out a bit longer, all while Y/n toyed with her wedding band. The diamonds shone proudly in the sunlight, and though the ring hand made its home on her finger almost two years ago, Y/n couldn't help but smile faintly. She was Mrs. Y/n Reeves. 

"You okay?" Keanu broke her thoughts, gently rubbing her rounded stomach. They were just under four months shy of welcoming their first child. They’d been discussing having a baby even before they married, in a small ceremony at Keanu’s favorite hotel, but hadn’t gotten down to actually trying until about a year earlier, when he had decided to cut back on the amount of roles he took and Y/n’s work schedule cleared up. Thankfully, though their road to pregnancy hadn’t been a trying one, they were both fairly healthy and it greatly helped that they were usually all over each other, and within about three months of being off her birth control, they had taken a home test, which had confirmed that Y/n was indeed pregnant. Since then, Keanu’s protectiveness had nearly quadrupled; the woman he loved was carrying their child, and he’d be damned if anything remotely bad happened to either of his favorite people.

Shifting a bit in his embrace, she laid one of her smaller hands next to his, feeling the light kicks of their baby, like butterflies fluttering in her stomach. According to Julie, those were only going to get stronger, and apparently a little painful, but Y/n didn’t care, she’d endure it any day if the reward was having their child in her arms afterwards. “Yeah,” Y/n smiled softly, nuzzling his chest with her cheek, “I’m good, we both are.”

“Good,” Keanu bent to kiss the top of her head, reassured for the time being. He’d been a little skeptical when Y/n and his sister had conjured up the idea of taking a boat out for the weekend; out on the water, if anything happened to her, getting to her doctor or the hospital would take longer than he preferred, and there had already some difficulties that had him almost constantly on edge. But, alas, Y/n was extremely persuasive and eventually convinced him that she was fine to get away for the long weekend, “And-”

A gasp from his mother, Patrica from her own chair as she set her cocktail down cut off Keanu’s words, and everyone turned to her, “I just remembered,” she sat up, eyes fixed on them both, “You two had an appointment this week, did Dr. Shaw tell you the sex?”

Boy or girl, it had recently become a hot topic in the Reeves family. Every time they all met, it somehow came up; what family names would work if it were a boy, how cute they’d dress up a little girl and Y/n was even sure that their was a bet going on between her sister-in-law and Julie, “We didn’t,” Keanu chuckled, “This little one was turned away from us; shy like their mommy.”

“And their daddy!” Y/n playfully slapped his thigh, giggling when he tucked her closer. When their laughter died down, Y/n elaborated, “I promise, you’ll be the first call when we find out.”

“Call?” Patrica repeated incredulously, as if the word were a capital crime in itself. How dare they simply call?

“We’ll take you to dinner?” Keanu scrunched his nose, trying to appease her. He knew it was a big deal, almost every family member had made sure to remind them of it, but surely, it couldn’t be that big. 

“Dinner- ugh,” she put a long, manicured finger to her temple, her entire, though possibly exasperated expression, was hidden by her dark sunglasses, though, her words were enough to tell them just how much a their options had not sufficed, “I’ve waited twenty years for my only son to get married to a nice girl. And now, they’re having a baby, and all I get, after all this waiting, is a phone call? My grand-baby is worth more than a phone call, you need to have a reveal.”

Julie squealed in agreement, “Oh! That would be perfect! You could do it where we had ours, at that cute little pastry shop in the city.” Y/n remembered that party well, especially since she’d nearly planned the entire thing. Julie had gone the perhaps, more old fashioned route, with a cake reveal. They’d rented out her favorite shop for an afternoon and gathered their closest friends and family for the vintage style soiree, where everyone was encouraged to wear a color that matched their suspicions; pastel blues and greens for a boy and light pinks and purples for a girl. Y/n, who’d been sure that she was going to have a godson from the very beginning, had opted for a cute blue dress with white lace trimming, claiming victory over Keanu who’d opted for a pink, which he dubbed salmon, shirt. 

“A gender reveal?” Y/n shifted again, scooting upwards, aided by Keanu and subsequently tucking her head in his neck after turning on her side. Quite recently, finding comfortable positions had started becoming quite a daunting task, but somehow, being cuddled to, or rather on top of,  Keanu had remained Y/n’s favorite. “We didn’t really think of doing one of those, my mom already wants to do a baby shower, we just feel like it's too much.”

“Yeah,” Keanu chimed in, trying to be another voice of reason, “Besides, that’s a lot of work, and we’re supposed to be keeping an eye on her blood pressure-”

“Well then let me plan it,” his mother protested, determined to have a reveal, “I’m sure Julie and Karina will help, and we can have it at her place too.”

Perking up, Karina joined their conversation, “Oh! That would be perfect,” she clapped her hands excitedly, no doubt on board with the idea. She’d been bursting with excitement since they’d announced that they were expecting, teasing that having a baby in the family this time around would be more fun considering she wasn’t the one who’d have to wake up at four am feedings. She was however, down to babysit whenever her niece or nephew started sleeping through the night. Yeah, their family thought of it all. “I’d love to help!”

“Count me in too,” Julie beamed, taking her son in her arms just as Eric came out from the pool, handing him over so he could go get Lucas a towel. 

And then, before Y/n and Keanu knew it, the three women were all involved in planning a party that they hadn’t even signed off on, though, at that point, it was clear that they didn’t have a choice anyway. “Perfect, all you two will have to do is show up,” she smiled triumphantly.

Three weeks later Y/n was a the snack table, surveying its contents and deciding if she wanted something, when Keanu came up behind her, causing her to jump with he placed  gentle hands on her shoulders, pecking the crown of Y/n’s hair, “It’s just me sweetheart,” he chuckled, his baritone warm and familiar.

“You startled me,” Y/n pressed one hand to her chest over the neckline of her white flowing dress, while the other cradled her bump. The little, unofficial planning committee had instructed guests to wear white, though, the decor had entailed a charming mix of baby blue and a light pink, beautifully mixed to compliment each other. The deserts; everything from inviting cupcakes to cute cake pops and elegant looking macaroons, and party favors, mostly made of little pouches filled with jelly beans along with fuzzy topped pens along with several other little trinkets, were also color coordinated. The ladies had really gone out, though arguably, simple wasn’t exactly their MO. “This is supposed to be a gender reveal, not a baby reveal,” she joked, turning to face Keanu.

“You’re right,” his lips brushed her forehead, one of his hands on her waist sliding to her stomach, “Wouldn’t want our bun popping out too soon,” he crouched down, so he could ‘talk to the baby,’ something he’d been doing for months now, “As excited as we are to meet you, you still gotta keep mommy company in there for a few more months.”

Threading her delicate hand through his dark mane a fond sorire upturned Y/n’s pink stained lips. She absolutely adored those little moments that Keanu would spend chatting with their baby, at first, he’d started with brief sentences, ‘I love you’s and ‘can’t wait to meet you’s, but as months drew on, and it the reality set in, Keanu had started reading to her belly, and sometimes at night, when he’d join her in bed, he could spend well over an hour talking about all the things he’d teach them as they grew up. Already, he was proving to be an exceptional father; extremely loving and always ready to put his wife and child first, and Y/n knew that things would only get better when they met their baby. 

She was so lost in her own thoughts, that Y/n had barely heard a thing of what Keanu had said, only returning to the moment when he pressed a chaste kiss to her tummy, offering one final declaration of love before standing again and heading to another end of the table after kissing Y/n one last time. "What are you doing?" She giggled as he picked up a pen and a little blank card out of a stack next to two decorative wooden boxes. The entire set up was for one of the many games being run that day, where their guests could vote on their options. Before the reveal later that evening, someone was supposed to count them and the reward would be satisfaction at the end. 

"I'm placing my bet," Keanu defended, scribbling on the white surface as he spoke.

"It's not a bet," Y/n placed a hand at the top of her growing bump as she made her way over to him, standing on her toes to peer over the loose shield he'd made with his hand, "You're going with girl again, huh?"

"Hey, Julie and Eric's baby was one thing, but I think I know our kid," folding the card in half, creasing it for emphasis, Keanu slipped it into the box with the word "girl” carved in cursive at the front, "This baby," he palmed her stomach with both hands, "Is definitely a girl."

Rolling her eyes, Y/n decided that she'd get in on it too, plucking on of the cards from its spot, swiping the pen from off the table and using Keanu's chest to press on, "Well, you must like being wrong," she chewed on her lower lip as she wrote, dramatically showing Keanu what she'd written before slipping it into the matching box labeled boy, "I was right then, and I'm right now."

"And how are you so sure of that?" The giddy smile of both their faces didn't show any signs of fading as Keanu reeled Y/n back in, "Why don't we bet on it?"

“Because I’m carrying the baby, duh,” she rolled her eyes playfully. Throwing her arms around his neck, Y/n twirled the ends of Keanu's hair in her fingers, leaning into his chest as far as she could, "And yeah,”  his arms circled Y/n's waist, toying with the lace on her flowing maxi dress, "Let's do it. What does the winner get?"

Keanu scrunched up his face, looking up thoughtfully, "The winner gets….." he thought on it some more, "Whatever they want."

Y/n eyed her husband suspiciously for a minute, a little curious about what he could possibly want, if by some miracle, he won. "Okay," she finally said, “Winner gets whatever they want,” Y/n smiled mischievously, almost certain that she would be triumphant. 

Hours later, just before noon had turned to evening and when the brightness had gone hazy as the sun journeyed to the horizon, everyone had gathered in the backyard, on the lawn for the long awaited moment. It was time for the reveal. They’d gone with a balloon reveal, and when it was time, Y/n and Keanu were positioned near the fence, just a few feet in front of their family and friends, all ready with phone and cameras. Keanu held on to the string of the large, shiny black balloon, one with a silver question mark painted on at the front, while Y/n had been armed with a metal skewer from Karina’s kitchen.

Just about an hour earlier, the contents of both boxes had been counted, and the team banking on Baby Reeves being a boy had come in strong, outnumbering the other side by a landslide. The small victory, though it couldn’t be considered a real prediction, had only built Y/n’s faith in her own suspicions, almost everyone, even down to her own parents, were convinced that she and Keanu would be greeting a son in the coming months. 

“Ready?” Keanu’s eyes met hers, the nerves shared between them, along with bright, excited grins plastered on both their faces. They both knew that in the end; boy or girl, daughter or son, it wouldn’t matter. None of it would matter as long as their baby was healthy and safe.

Y/n nodded vigorously, using her free hand to tuck some hair behind her ear, positioning the skewer near the opaque balloon, “Yeah.” Somewhere in the crowd, she heard her mother anxiously prompt her to “just do it already,” while someone else interjected that their camera was ready, “Okay, okay,” Y/n laughed, ready to get on with the moment of truth.

Taking a deep breath, Y/n didn’t even try to steady her shaking hand as she finally pressed the tip of the stick to the balloon, wincing and shutting her eyes tightly at the loud popping sound. The crowd cheered loudly, jubilance igniting a celebration and when Y/n opened her eyes, her jaw hung slack with shock. Rendered speechless, she just stood there, rooted to the floor, dropping the skewer and placing her hands on her stomach, barely smiling breathlessly at the patter of kicks beneath her palms. “Oh my god…..” Tears of joy welled up in her eyes as she raised her head to meet Keanu’s equally glistening gaze, “I…..”

For a second, he too seemed shocked, and the jeers of congratulations faded in the background as everything moved in slow motion. She could have sworn that there had never been so much love in his eyes, and Keanu thought that he’d never been that happy, though, their wedding day came in at a very close second. Suddenly, the prospect of parenthood seemed a thousand times realer. After that evening, so much would change, they would finally choose a name. 

Without another moment of hesitation, Keanu took her into his strong arms, lifting Y/n off the ground and spinning her in a circle and planting a passionate on her ready lips. In turn, she hugged him tightly, forgetting everything and everyone else as they basked in their joy. “So,” he began when he set her down, brushing some pink confetti off her shoulders and picking a couple similar pieces out of her hair, “I guess you were wrong,” he chortled, still holding her close. 

Nodding, Y/n looked at the ground around them; the healthy green grass was now freckled with bits of fuchsia pink, “I guess I was, we’re having a little girl,” she kissed him again, that time quicker, not even caring that everyone was still taking pictures of them, “You win.”

“I do,” Keanu pressed their forehead together, the tip of his nose brushing hers. By then, they both looked equally rosy, the sheer joy of the matter seeping through their skin, “And I know just what I want to cash in my win for.”

“What’s that?” Y/n giggled.

“This,” and before she knew it, Keanu was dipping her, one hand holding Y/n steady at the center of her back, while the other cradled her head. Her loose tresses hung in a waterfall, disturbed only by Keanu’s stocky fingers, just as he captured her lips again, in a breath stealing bout of sweet endearment. 

******

Taglist- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana   @keandrews @greenmanalishi  @rdjloverxxx​  @danceoftwowolves​  

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #john wick x reader #john wick x you #the one that stays #the reveal #fanfic #fanfiction #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves oneshot #oneshot #ff #john wick fanfiction #fluff

[zecretsanta]

Fic: Christmas at the Kashiwabara's

To: @miiversian​ 

From: @bookworm-2692​

I used the following prompt: the 999 cast hanging out together again for the holidays! (sans Ace bc… obvious reasons). There’s also bonus Nona and Ennea, since Hazuki is hosting the party!

This possibly isn’t quite as happy as you were hoping for - but as we know from VLR and ZTD, post-999 Junpei isn’t in a good place, so a bit of angst snuck its way in. I hope you enjoy it anyway!

Thanks for this prompt! I love the 999 cast, so this was really fun to write. I hope you enjoy it, and I wish you a wonderful rest-of-December!

AO3 Link

Summary: After the Second Nonary Game, Hazuki Kashiwabara hosts a Christmas Party for the other participants of the Nonary Game. They try to enjoy themselves and get into the Holiday Spirit, but as they’re still processing what happened last month, this doesn’t always go to plan.

———

Hazuki places the last knife and fork on the table, and sighs. It’s mid-December, mere weeks after the ordeal in Nevada, where she had been kidnapped and made to play some sick game, all to ensure the survival of some paradoxical girl’s existence. That same game was also where she finally learnt what her daughters had gone through nine years prior, and why they had returned from those nine days as shells of their former selves.

She still wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about the other participants of the Nonary Game. Two of them had caused the original game her daughters went through – Hazuki was free to hate them unreservedly, and feel gleeful that one was in jail and the other dead, blown to smithereens. Seven was the detective who had rescued Nona from the incinerator all those years ago – for all that he was annoying and loved to rile her up, she would be forever grateful that he had saved her daughter’s life.

Clover and Light were also victims of the first Nonary Game, the same game that Nona and Ennea had been kidnapped for. Hazuki felt nothing in particular towards them, other than pity that they had been forced to go through the game twice, and relieved that they had survived. The other set of siblings during Hazuki’s game, Aoi and Akane, had also gone through Nona and Ennea’s game as well. However, while she didn’t feel much specifically towards the Fields, she felt much more strongly about the Kurashikis, even though most of those emotions were conflicting and confusing. She felt the usual pity that as children they had been forced into such a cruel game, but she also felt anger that they then staged their own version of the game, endangering a further seven people (or nine, depending on how one counted). Their game however ultimately punished the four behind the first Nonary Game, with death and life in prison, and for this Hazuki was grateful. Nine years ago, Hazuki wanted anything to punish the culprits of her daughters’ kidnapping – now she had it, and she wasn’t sure if the price was worth it.

Then there was also the question of the paradox surrounding the siblings. Surrounding Akane Kurashiki in particular. Apparently, she had died on the boat nine years ago, but Hazuki had gone with Akane (and Aoi) behind every single door during the Nonary Game. Door 4. Door 8. Door 6. One of the Door 9s. She definitely seemed real behind each of those doors, and between the doors themselves. Somehow she had died nine years ago, and also masterminded the game six weeks ago in order to save her own life when she was twelve years old. This really increased Hazuki’s anger towards the siblings – that they would put on such a dangerous game, but then not even fully explain why, or how actions now could save a life in the past. Hazuki deserved a better explanation. But she was still glad they had ultimately survived. Probably.

The final participant of the Nonary Game was Junpei. Junpei, who had been friends with Akane when they were children, before Akane had died (or something. Hazuki had resolved to not think about that part of it too much). He had apparently not seen her or even thought about her for years, and yet now he cannot stop obsessing over her. He had immediately quit school to go find her. Hazuki wishes Junpei would just let it go and get over her. She was ultimately glad that Akane had decided not to be part of their lives anymore – she just wants Junpei to join the rest of them in moving on. As it is, every time she speaks to Junpei now, he’ll either be talking non-stop about her, or otherwise moping because she hasn’t gotten in contact with him yet. He had joined Seven’s detective agency, so Hazuki hopes he will be able to keep a closer eye on Junpei, and keep him from going further over the edge.

So, despite feeling conflicted or neutral about most of the others who had been kidnapped for the Nonary Game last month alongside her, they had all decided to keep in touch, and this evening’s Christmas Party was born. Since Aoi and Akane could not be contacted, they had not been invited. Junpei was devastated when he found out, although Hazuki is privately relieved. She isn’t sure she wants to confront the Kurashiki siblings about what had happened anytime soon, so knowing they won’t be here will give her some much needed space to process those emotions. Hazuki still isn’t entirely sure why she got stuck with the hosting job – until Seven pointed out that they were the two “most adulty” adults, and thus had the most established homes out of the group, and that his was a small flat since he lived alone, whereas her house was the largest because it was where she had raised Nona and Ennea. So here she was, setting the table, and hoping that tonight would not go horribly wrong somehow.

Just then, Hazuki hears the door unlock, followed by a loud “We’re home!” in Nona’s voice, and a smaller “With Clover and Light” in Ennea’s. Hazuki looks up, and indeed sees all four of them entering.

After the Nonary Game last month, Hazuki had learnt that her daughters had been kidnapped nine years prior in order to participate in an almost-identical Nonary game. Hazuki was shocked to learn that the morphogenetic field, pseudoscience she brought up to distract Junpei from whatever his funyarinpa nonsense was, was real, and that Nona and Ennea were intimately embedded within it. More disturbing was that their abilities with the fields were the reason they, and the other sixteen children, were kidnapped for that Nonary Game. Nona had met Light during their Game, and Ennea had met Clover, although somehow (Hazuki wasn’t sure she’d ever fully understand it) they were all aware of each other through the fields.

After escaping the Game, the Egyptian woman, Alice, had directed the car to the SOIS base for questioning. Following that, SOIS had attempted to track down all 18 children from the first Nonary Game, and offered them jobs. From what Hazuki could gather, Aoi and Akane could not be found, but the other 16 young adults now, all accepted the government job. Hazuki’s daughters had been reunited with their friends from those nine hours, nine years ago, and they were all workmates now. Nona and Ennea had thus offered Clover and Light a lift back to the Christmas Party following work that day, and now they had all arrived.

“Hello, hello!” Hazuki calls out. “Welcome to my home!”

“Hello, Lotus! It’s great to see you again.” Clover ran over to give Hazuki a hug, while Light walked over more calmly, and shook her hand.

“Thank you for agreeing to host us, I’m sure your home is very beautiful.”

“I’d appreciate being called Hazuki now, rather than Lotus, but you’re quite welcome.”

After Nona and Ennea each give her a hug, Hazuki directs Clover and Light to place the Kris Kringle gifts on the coffee table, where three brightly wrapped boxes already sit.

“I’m so surprised we’re the first to arrive,” Clover comments, “since it usually takes me forever to get ready.”

“It helps that we came straight from work though,” Nona adds.

“True.”

“Even so, I would have expected Seven to be more punctual – or even early,” Light interjects, looking thoughtful.

As if on cue, Hazuki’s phone buzzes with a message from Seven. He had told the group his real name after the SOIS questioning, since by that point everyone else’s was known, and codenames no longer mattered, but then Clover had declared that he would always be “Seven” to the group, and since he hadn’t introduced himself nine years ago when he was rescuing her brother and the others, then he lost the privilege of being known by a name (or at least, it would take at least another nine years for his name to sound like a usable name). Seven just shrugged at that, and said he didn’t mind the nickname anyway, and only disclosed his name to be fair. So Seven he still was.

Seven was texting Hazuki to explain he would be late, since Junpei was more unresponsive as usual. Junpei was extremely erratic when it came into keeping in touch – he would often go a week at a time before saying anything. Seven had taken to checking on Junpei when he didn’t respond to texts, and so he was giving Junpei a lift to Hazuki’s place (even if he, quote, had to drag him kicking and screaming).

“You’re right,” Hazuki announces to the group. “Seven was intending to be right on time, but he’s picking up Junpei, and today is apparently not one of Junpei’s better days.”

Nona and Ennea glance at each other as she says this, while Clover purses her lips and looks away. It’s Light who responds.

“Well, Junpei will be coming to the right place. We’re his friends, hopefully we can distract him tonight with food and jokes.”

Noises of affirmation heard all around, Hazuki sighs with relief as the conversation smoothly continues on. As a mother to children Junpei’s age, she worries about him. He rarely seems to discuss his parents or other family, or even other friends. His focus is completely trained upon Akane, and little else seems to occupy his time. She doesn’t want to baby him, though, and does her best to treat him as a regular adult, and avoids mentioning Akane Kurashiki whenever she can.

After about twenty minutes of conversation, the ringing of the doorbell cuts through and interrupts. Hazuki excuses herself, opens the door, and finds herself face to face with a grim Seven and a sullen Junpei. Upon seeing her, Seven grins, says “Merry Christmas”, and holds out his gift for the Kris Kringle. Junpei offers a small “Hi”, and Hazuki ushers them both inside.

“Ayyyy! They’re here!” Clover calls out.

“Junpei! What are you wearing?” Light says. “The colours clash horribly – I think it’s going to blind me!”

Junpei looks down at his all black outfit and scowls at Light but doesn’t say anything. Hazuki still chalks it up as a win – he doesn’t look as listless as he did before anymore.

Nona then steps up with Ennea following. Hazuki smiles when she sees this, as it has been their dynamic ever since they were small, Nona charging up and speaking for both of them, and Ennea being quieter behind.

“Hello Seven! And you must be Junpei. I’m Nona, and this is Ennea,” Nona introduces. “Nice to finally meet you after all these years.”

“Y- years? What do you mean years?”

“Akane mentioned you nine years ago. You were the one who told her about checking if the elevator was dry, to make sure we wouldn’t drown.” Nona steps closer to Junpei. “I was one of the four who went down the elevator at first, to check on Door 2 with Ren. Because of you, we didn’t drown. Of course we’d remember your name.”

“Of course,” Ennea adds, stepping forward as well, “we didn’t imagine at the time that you’d be an adult. But it was only weeks ago for you, wasn’t it? And not years, like it was for us.”

“And what on Earth did you mean by ‘boys don’t drown’? Of course boys drown! You idiot!” Nona flicks Junpei on the nose, and giggles when he takes half a step back, eyes wide and bewilderment clear on his face.

“Wh- what? You heard all that?”

Light smirks. “We didn’t hear your conversation, but Akane certainly repeated it for the rest of us.”

Junpei groans, and drops his head into both palms, just as Clover pouts and bemoans how it’s not fair that she didn’t get to witness that conversation, and that it’s not fair that her connection to Light is not two-way, like Ennea’s is to Nona. That’s news to Hazuki. She assumed all morphogenetic field connections were two-way, since that’s what she’s witnessed for years in her daughters. Hazuki raises an eyebrow and glances at Seven, who just smiles fondly at the others.

Ice broken, they begin to move to the table. The turkey is sitting in the middle, surrounded by various dishes, including a whole leg of ham and a potato bake. There are slices of cured salmon, meatballs and lingonberry jam, roasted vegetables, halved boiled eggs, bread rolls, and frankfurter sausages. Sitting on each plate are the Christmas crackers.

Soon enough, cracks fill the air as the crackers are pulled. Brightly coloured tissue paper crowns rest atop of everyone’s heads, and terrible jokes are being shouted across the table. The plastic items inside the crackers are looked at with mild curiosity before being forgotten for the rest of the meal. Long after all the crackers are gone, Junpei, Seven, and Nona have engaged in a heated pun and dad joke war. There’s a comment shouted over that din that the terrible jokes are supposed to end when the crackers end, as everyone digs into the food.

The clatter of cutlery against the plates begins to die down as everyone finishes. Hazuki is feeling comfortably full as she looks around the table, a feeling of satisfaction at seeing almost everyone’s empty plates. Junpei’s is still mostly full of food, and it looks as though he barely touched it. Hazuki doesn’t take it as a slight against her cooking, as Junpei’s appetite has been lacking lately, and mostly feels sorry for him. She doesn’t dwell on it though, as she doesn’t want to lower the otherwise lively mood – Clover and Ennea are excitedly chatting and practicing some of the ASL that Sachiko has taught them, while Nona, Light, and Seven are chatting about what each of them got up to in the nine years since they first met.

Nona glances over at Hazuki, then looks at Ennea, and then both of them get up to start clearing the table, telling Hazuki to stay sitting. Hazuki still can’t quite believe that the “twin thing” she had joked about all those years ago was real, and not just limited to twins.

“Ah, is it Kris Kringle time?” Seven says. “I’ll grab the gifts, you four stay put”

Junpei complies – Hazuki isn’t entirely sure he was even paying attention – but Light grumbles that being blind and missing an arm doesn’t make him incapable of helping, and gets up anyway to assist Seven. Clover takes one look at her brother, and stays seated, explaining that when he’s like this, he’d rather not have help either, so it was simpler to just… let him be.

Soon enough, the table is cleared and the gifts are in a pile in the centre of the table. Ennea fetches a couple of dice and Clover takes one look at them and bursts into laughter. She points to Junpei and says “no dice”, continuing to laugh. Hazuki smiles in wry amusement and Seven chuckles at this, when the doorbell rings unexpectedly. Still standing, Ennea goes to the door and opens it, silent shock radiating from her. A shout of “No way!” from Nona, before she leaps up and runs to the door.

Curiosity piqued, Hazuki begins to rise from her seat, when Nona says, “Well don’t just stand there, let them in Ennea!”

It’s two people Hazuki was beginning to think she’d never see again. The two people who orchestrated the entire game last month.

“Aoi? Akane?”

At the mention of “Akane”, Junpei finally looks up, and sees her.

“Akane? You’re here? Why?” Junpei is just staring in shock and disbelief – which is exactly what everyone else is doing, too.

“I’m sorry for turning up uninvited,” Akane begins, but Junpei interrupts her.

“Don’t apologise for that! I’m just so glad you’re here! But… why didn’t you come find us sooner? How did you know we would all be here?”

“We couldn’t come earlier,” Aoi says sternly. “What we did was not exactly within the bounds of legality, and we couldn’t be sure you wouldn’t turn us into the police. And if you start to do so now we’re marching straight back out again. I didn’t even want to show up here and now, but Akane… she insisted. She said we had to do this.”

“Junpei, I’m so sorry. I just. I had to disappear like that.” Akane tries to be gentle but Hazuki can detect a hint of impatience in what she is saying.

“Okay so you had to leave or whatever, that’s fine,” Clover interrupts. “But like, I know Lotus wasn’t able to contact you two. Because you left. So how on Earth did you know we’d all be here? Like not to make you feel unwelcome or anything but…?”

Akane places her head in her hands, and sheepishly says “I got it from Junpei, via the Morphogentic Fields. We’re still connected.”

“Wait… you got my location via the field? Why couldn’t I get yours?”

“Well um, Junpei… I have a bit more experience with the fields…”

“What she means to say,” Aoi interrupts, “is that she’s amazing at them and your abilities are non-existent. You were only able to connect to her before because she was able to reach across the nine years and connect. You can’t do jackshit on your own. She was able to read the invitation Lotus sent you, but even if Akane was standing in a room with flashing neon lights saying ‘we are here’ you would get nothing from her, unless she chose for you to get it”

“So Akane is able to spy on Junpei whenever she likes, and he gets no say in the matter?” Light asks quietly.

Akane says nothing, and looks to the ground. Junpei glares at everyone and no one. Aoi freezes, as though he hadn’t considered it in those words before.

“No… I don’t think that’s quite right,” Ennea pipes up.

“Yeah. We’re able to block each other out if the other is annoying us too much,” Nona adds.

“So if we don’t want to be connected… then we won’t be.”

“And since we know Junpei quit uni to search for Akane, he wants to find her. He opened himself up to her. She can connect to him through the morphogenetic field because, on some level, he wants her to.”

“No!” Junpei suddenly shouts. “I don’t want her to, to, to spy on me! I just… don’t want her to disappear!”

“I can’t block Light though.” Clover turns to her brother. “Can I?”

Light looks thoughtful. “Well, I can’t say I’ve ever been aware of you blocking me. Sometimes I don’t get anything from you, but I don’t know if that was intentional on your part or just…”

“So can we only block each other because our connection is equal in each direction?” Nona asks.

“But so was ours!” Junpei bursts out. “Back in the incinerator, I could hear her, and when I spoke, she responded! It’s like we were talking in real time!”

“She’s just that much better at it then you. She can transmit and receive powerfully enough that she could simulate that. I don’t think you can block her,” Aoi says. “For what it’s worth, I don’t get a choice either. She either chooses to give me something, or get something from me, and otherwise I can’t connect to her either.”

“I don’t want to be spied on,” Junpei repeats in a quiet voice, staring at the floor.

There’s silence for a moment, as though no one knows how to respond to that.

“Well, you’re here now aren’t you? So you may as well join us and sit down, right?” Seven looks at Hazuki in confirmation, and she nods. “Have you eaten yet? Yes? That’s good, I think we pretty much demolished everything here, we were just about to get on to the Kris Kringle game. Perfect timing for you to show up, Santa Claus. What have you got in your sack of goodies?”

“My. Name. Is. Aoi.” Aoi says through gritted teeth. “Yes, we did bring gifts, but stop calling me Santa!” He holds up two wrapped boxes, a cylinder and a flat rectangle, and places them on the table sharply.

“Is that another thing you stole from my brain?” Junpei retorts.

“I mean,” Akane begins, “it is a Christmas party, is it not? So gifts were an obvious thing to bring.” Junpei’s glare doesn’t abate, and Akane sighs and adds, “Okay yes, I read that on the invitation too. Happy now?”

Before another argument could get under way, Clover picks up the dice Ennea brought over earlier, and says, “Okay forget about all that. Let’s play! I’m the youngest so I should start!”

Relieved by the distraction, Hazuki raises her eyebrow and says “Sure. Provided you don’t insist on age order for the rest of it, and settle for a simple clockwise direction.”

Clover says “Deal” at the same moment that Junpei mutters “You just don’t want it to be obvious that you’re like the oldest one here or close to.”

“Oi! Just because you’re grumpy is no excuse to turn on me young man!”

Before Hazuki could continue yelling at Junpei’s blatant disrespect (how dare he!), Clover throws the dice down onto the table, perhaps harder than necessary, where they clatter for a few seconds before turning up as a one and a three.

“Aww,” Clover whines, as she pushes the dice to her left to Nona. Nona rolls the dice less forcefully than Clover, and ends up with a three and a five. She just smiles, and passes the dice to Light, making sure they drop into his hands. He rolls, and Nona cranes over to see what he got.

“First double,” she announces. “Two ones.”

“Wait, seriously?” Clover asks, and gets out of her seat to see for herself.

“She’s right,” Seven, to Light’s left and at the head of the table, says. “Snake eyes, huh? What are the chances of that?”

Light smirks. “Clearly I chose the right name for myself six weeks ago.” He reaches out and grabs the closest gift in the pile, as Seven grabs the dice and rolls.

The game continues. Doubles on the dice are rewarded with choosing a present from the centre, until they’re all gone, and then the players are free to steal the gifts from each other. Hazuki doesn’t miss how Junpei keeps on snatching the gifts brought by the Kurashiki siblings, despite the intermittent glares he keeps on sending them.

Soon enough, the timer on Ennea’s phone goes off and the game ends. Everyone stops to take in each other’s hoards. Clover has a pleased grin on her face as she notices that she has the largest hoard, with three gifts. Light and Ennea managed to snag two each, while Aoi and Junpei each have a single gift. Hazuki, Seven, Nona, and Akane all have no gifts. Ennea immediately hands one of her gifts to Nona, seated across from her, while Light offers one of his gifts to Hazuki, seated across from him. After a beat, Clover notices everyone looking pointedly at her, sighs long-sufferingly, and gives a gift each to Seven and Aoi.

The group then opens the gifts. Hazuki unwraps the small package from Clover, and finds a deck of playing cards. Hazuki turns to Clover to thank her, but is greeted by the sight of Clover staring suspiciously at a packet of chips, and then putting one in her mouth. Almost immediately, she yells at Junpei about the chilli flavour while simultaneously offering them to everyone around her. Aoi absent-mindedly takes a chip and eats it without flinching while fiddling with the three-dimensional puzzle he received from Light, trying to pull it apart. Next to Aoi, at the end of the table, is Akane with the mini succulent that Ennea bought.

Just then, a loud shout sounds out. Nona is holding what appears to be a Pringles can, but instead of Pringles inside, is a giant stuffed snake. Nona glares at Aoi, while he just grins and offers her a thumbs up, leaning back on his chair and thoroughly enjoying himself. She stuffs the snake back inside the Pringles can, closes the lid, and throws it at Aoi. It hits him in the face, dislodging the lid, so the snake leaps out again. Aoi falls off his chair, and glares at Nona, and then at his sister when she also starts laughing.

Hazuki tears her eyes away from the sight, and looks back at Light. He received the bottle of wine she had bought, and is sniffing it to identify it. He seems to sense that she is watching him, as he turns to face her and thank her for the gift.

“A joke book!” Ennea exclaims from Hazuki’s left. “And they’re not even good jokes. They’re terrible puns and dad jokes. Almost worse than the Christmas crackers earlier! Seven, why do you wish for me to suffer in this manner?”

Seven just laughs and holds up the notebook and coloured gel pens he received from Nona. “Your sister has just granted me the means to create even more jokes, and worse ones. Just you wait for next year!”

Ennea groans, dropping her face into her arms. “Just kill me now. End my suffering, please,” she jokes.

Hazuki laughs and looks beyond Ennea to Junpei to see what he received. He’s holding yet another book, looking between it and Akane and back again.

“What’s wrong with it, Junpei?” Hazuki asks.

“It’s a Sudoku book!” Junpei exclaims. “It’s like she’s taunting me about last month!”

Clover starts laughing. “Oh man. That would’ve been terrible for any of us to receive since we’ve all been in that incinerator – but especially you!”

Junpei glares again. “Akane! Did you do this on purpose?”

“Do what?” Akane asks serenely. “I did indeed exchange money to obtain that book… but I didn’t purposely give it to you. You kept on grabbing it yourself!”

Aoi smirks. “She was pretty sure you’d go for the one from her though.”

“Hey! Don’t expose me like that!” Akane turns in her seat and playfully hits her brother, before turning back to Junpei. “I’m sorry, this wasn’t meant to cause distress. You at least don’t have a time limit for any of these.”

Junpei scowls. “I guess.”

“Junpei – you’ve been trying so hard to find Akane,” Hazuki begins. “Now that she’s here, why are you being so hostile towards her?”

“I- I don’t… she’s just confusing! Why a Sudoku book? Why does she get to disappear and then come back without warning? Why is she allowed to spy on me? I don’t understand!”

Aoi leans over to Akane, and quietly says, “I think we’ve overstayed our welcome. We should go before we make things worse.”

Akane nods and stands. “Hazuki, thank you so much for opening your home to us. It was lovely seeing you all again one last time but it’s time for us to go.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Aoi adds. “Merry Christmas, happy holidays, all that jazz.”

“Wait.” Junpei gets out of his chair. “What do you mean by ‘one last time’? Are you leaving again? Why’d you come back if you’re only going to leave again? Why are you leaving me?”

Akane just looks heartbroken as Junpei keeps on talking. Junpei’s arm reaches up, reaches for her, but stops before touching her. Akane doesn’t look at Junpei, mumbles another apology, and turns around and back towards Hazuki’s front door. Aoi offers Junpei a final, “Sorry, man, we both wish we didn’t have to do this,” before following his sister out the door. Junpei’s arm continues hanging in the air where Akane used to be, before it drops to his side. Junpei bows his head, and Hazuki can see his body shaking, while everyone else stays sitting at the table in stunned silence.

Clover is the first to break the silence. “They’re… gone. Just like that. They’re gone.”

Seven gets up, walks past Hazuki to Junpei and grips his shoulder. “Hey man. How are you holding up?”

Silent sobs continue wracking Junpei’s body as he struggles to draw breath, let alone respond. Seven draws him into a hug, enveloping him and shielding him from the stares of the others.

“I think we’ll head home now,” Seven says, not releasing his hold upon Junpei. He meets Hazuki’s eyes over the top of Junpei’s head. “Thank you so much for your hospitality. I hope you have a wonderful holiday. Thanks everyone for an enjoyable evening. Come on, Junpei.”

One arm still around Junpei, and they too leave.

“Poor Junpei,” Ennea whispers.

“How did Akane change so much?” Nona wonders. “She’s nothing like what she was nine years ago.”

“The incinerator,” Light says. “None of us can know exactly what she went through in there.”

“But… she survived, didn’t she?” Clover asks. “She’s here now, we did the Nonary Game last month to save her life. So she shut it off. So it’s just like what happened when Junpei shut it off for us last month, or when Reed solved it for Ennea’s group nine years ago, right?”

“There are infinitely many timelines where she died,” Light says. “There’s only one where she survived.”

“But that’s this timeline! She survived here!”

“I still remember her dying. I remember her screams and I remember Aoi collapsing on the floor when the door opened and all he saw was ash. I also remember Akane surviving. I imagine if I can remember Akane dying, so can she. She probably fully remembers burning to death until she no longer existed. That would change a person.”

“I remember her dying,” Ennea mumbles. “Nona remembers her surviving.”

“Y-yeah. I think I can understand how she would remember dying too,” Nona says.

Hazuki doesn’t know what to say. She didn’t even find out about the first Nonary Game until she had already been through her Nonary Game, and even during her game she didn’t have the pressure of either finding or sending information through a, a, a pseudoscience! These four had that extra pressure, as well as being actual children at the time.

The silence stretches for a moment longer, and then Light says, perhaps a little too brightly, “This was a wonderful evening, Hazuki. However, I think we need to head home now as well. It’s late.”

Clover startles out of her thoughts and agrees. “You’re a wonderful cook, Lotus! If that’s what Nona and Ennea had growing up, they’re so lucky.”

Hazuki smiles. “Thank you. Happy holidays, and get home safe.”

“We will! I’m driving!” Clover grins. “Bye Ennea! Bye Nona!”

“Bye! See you soon!” Nona and Ennea chorused.

Once the door closes behind the Field siblings, Hazuki begins chewing her lip, worried.

“Did I somehow make it worse for Junpei, doing this?” she asks her daughters.

“No, Mum,” Nona says. “I think it was good for him to actually interact with people again.”

“Besides, you couldn’t know that Akane would show up, nor that that would affect him like that,” Ennea adds.

“I suppose,” Hazuki concedes. She still isn’t entirely convinced, but it isn’t just Junpei she worries about. Everyone who has been through a Nonary Game will carry those scars for life. They just have to take this one day at a time.

She wraps her daughters up in a hug, reminding herself that they’re still here, still alive. One day, this will all get easier. They just have to get there.

#zero escape #9 hours 9 persons 9 doors #miiversian #bookworm-2692 #zecret santa 2020 #submission

[buffyversefanfiction]

Slayer of Slayers

Warnings:I do not own, nor do I claim to own any of the copyright or characters within the Buffyverse which includes but not limited to the television shows Buffy and Angel, as well as the Darkhorse comics series’ continuation.

15+ Strong to moderate violence, Graphic to mild descriptions of gore, and torture, sexually charged scenes, sexual innuendos, mild to strong language, and practices of witchcraft.

M/M, F/F, M/F, GEN, OTHER +

PART SEVEN LINK HERE

Part Eight - Vampire Island

Theo Frey’s life had well and truly been a series of impossible events, his birth being miraculous conception between slayer and vampire, one of whom should never be able to produce any form of life, his birth then followed by being abandoned in the past and forced to grow up in the past, only to witness the death of his adoptive parents at the hands of Drusilla, which was then followed by Theo becoming a vampire slayer, falling in love with vamp Tobias, and becoming known as the slayer of slayers. And if that was not enough impossibilities within his life, he then witnessed his love Tobias’ death at the hands of old one Illyria, only to then die himself after being shot by former watcher Rupert Giles that saw him coming back to life as the world’s first vampire to have turned without a siring. Theo’s world had continued to crash around him, repeatedly, but for once his latest surprise was one he was happy about, that being declared a king of vampires following his survival after being staked, and now he was on a mission to earn that title, by finding this infamous vampire island, home to the first-ever Hellmouth, and the only place in the world that would solidify his claim as king amongst vampires, making him the most dangerous creature on the planet as the prophecies foretold and the only thing standing in his way, was his mother, Buffy the vampire slayer…

Buffy Summers had been out of the slaying game for what felt like forever but, it had only been over a year since she disappeared to the middle of nowhere, and as she returned, following the revelation of Theo, she found herself patrolling, hunting, and researching, 24/7, as she struggled to deal with her son’s hatred towards her and his many evil deeds, which she blamed herself for. The last time she saw her son she called his bluff about being ready to kill her, luckily things went Buffy’s way, and he couldn’t kill her in the end, but still to see her child so distraught, so broken, almost broke the once preppy and feisty blonde-haired vampire slayer. However, the fact he could not bring himself to kill her gave Buffy some hope that there was something still there deep within him that she could reach and after hearing news of his plans to take out Drusilla, those hopes grew, only to be dashed after learning her son had become something of a king among vampires. Buffy and Willow had been deep in the books within Willow’s San Francisco apartment for days, as they sought out to learn all they could about Theo’s prophecy as the first vampire not to be sired by another, as they learned the unnerving news that mother would either kill a son or be killed by a son, before going on to learn about a prophecy going back many centuries which detailed a self-sired vampire reigning king of an island, vampire island, and how his blood would open the world’s first Hellmouth, as they began to realize the importance of his birth, and why he was born, with Buffy beginning to fear that not only could her son not be saved but she may have to be the one to stop him. And before long Buffy and Willow hired a boat, enlisted the help of fellow vampire slayer Faith Lehane, and Illyria, and took to the sea with ancient books, maps, and spells directly linked to this mystical island of vampires, as they hoped to find the island, and to get there and destroy the Hellmouth before Theo had a chance of opening it, claiming his undead throne, and unleashing hell unto the world. “This child of yours sure knows how to cause trouble I bet you're missing the good old days when you only had to try to keep me in line.” Faith joked with Buffy as they stood to the port of the big yacht-like boat that they had rented, both slayers looking out towards the sea. “Well, I would not go as far as saying I’m nostalgic about rogue Faith and Sunnydale High, but things were much simpler back then for sure.” Buffy laughed, appreciating Faith’s humor during a difficult time for her. “Speak for yourself B, I do not want to sound all savior-like and everything, but we are going to get through to him Buffy without having to kill him.” Faith responded as she remained determined about her believes over Theo being redeemable. “If we were certain about that, I’d have got Angel on this mission instead of his super smurf sidekick and you’d have had his witch frenemy join us,” Buffy confessed to the fellow slayer, a slayer she had once become enemies with but had over time rebuilt their friendship. “I’m the slayer no matter what, and deep down you are the same…if I have to choose between the world or my son I’ll choose the world, Angel will choose his son, I guess that makes him the better parent and me the better, killer.” “It will not come down to that Buffy, I did not come on this mission to kill your kid and neither did you, we will stop him without killing him, and then you will ground his ass for at least a decade or two and we’ll go get some drinks.” Faith told Buffy, knowing Buffy was right but also knowing she did not want to admit it to her. “Being a slayer has cost me so much, forced me to sacrifice so much, and although I hate that more than anything if it comes down to it, I will continue to make those sacrifices because that is what a slayer does,” Buffy said in a defeated sigh, knowing that this quest to find the island of vampires could end with her killing her own son.

Later that very same night Theo stood at the front of a large shipment containing ship looking at the nearby island, with blood on his mouth, the blood coming from the human passengers of the boat that he and his group of vampires fed on while hiding out in the darkest places of the ship, choosing to keep the captain alive so he could sail the boat while they hid from daylight, but chaining him to the wheel so he dared not escape. Theo couldn’t believe his eyes as he stared at the island from a distance, a hauntingly beautiful island, almost completely in darkness if it was not for the night’s moon in the sky, reflecting light off the water, he could not believe that this lost island was the home to the world’s first Hellmouth nor could he believe that this island would be his kingdom, his way to a throne he never knew even existed. As the boat sailed closer towards the island, his vampire companions appeared from out of the blind spots, with glee in their eyes, knowing they had found the only true home for their kind, completely oblivious to the fact that their king was beginning to question the path he had chosen so quickly after facing off with his nemesis Drusilla. Theo had wanted many things in his life, he wanted love which he found with Lucien Knight and then later the vampire Tobias, he wanted companionship which he once had with his bewitching best friend Ruby Moon, and he wanted a family to replace the one he lost, but he had never dreamt of being a king among monsters nor did he dream of one day becoming one of those monsters but fate had dealt their cards and Theo had no choice but to either accept or deny his destiny. Losing Tobias had awakened emotions within the vampire that he thought was long gone, human emotions, grief, sadness, and loss, and somehow through reunions with old friends, meeting his biological family, and turning against his mentor Drusilla, somewhere through all that he had felt a part of his old self slipping back through, a part he had hoped he killed a long time ago and apart if he wanted to become king, he would have to kill now. Theo’s only mission in life had been to avenge his parents and with an army, and more undead soldiers to add to that army, after opening the Hellmouth and claiming his undead kingdom, he knew with certainty he would achieve that goal, for even Drusilla herself could not outrun an entire army instructed to hunt her down at all costs, and if it meant ending the world, well that was just a sacrifice the slayer of slayers was willing to make. But as his minions anchored the boat Theo was shocked to suddenly see Sineya, the first slayer, appear standing within the sandy shores of the beach, staring right at him, as if she was staring right into his soul, and perhaps she was, as Theo suddenly felt a rush of guilt hit him hard, like a ton of bricks, causing him to gasp for a moment before like she had appeared, Sineya disappeared into the night’s air within a blink of the eyes. “We’re here boss!” One of his minions announced to him. “Time to go as far as we can before looking for coverage from the sun, then when night falls again we will get you to your throne.” “Yes,” Theo replied, as he then mumbled to himself, unimpressed by the island’s restrictions. “What kind of island meant for vampires has no way of blocking out the sun anyway?”

Buffy, Faith, Willow, and Illyria were not too far behind as the sun began to rise in the sky, the two slayers, witch, and goddess, drew closer to the infamous island of vampires, an island that Illyria herself had conquered many millenniums ago, back when bloodsuckers were nothing more than pets to her, messy pets whom she’d easily put down if they pestered her. All those years ago Illyria never really sense the true power of this island, thinking of it as nothing more than a home to bloodsuckers, but now as she grew closer to the island of vampires she began to sense its power more and more, a sense of untapped potential, the same sense she got from the slayer of slayers which only served as further evidence to the goddess that Theo Frey was indeed linked to the place, just like the prophecy foretold. As she stood behind the boat’s wheel, Willow Rosenberg, standing next to her, the two women seeing the island in their sight, Illyria knew that Willow too could feel the untapped power radiating from the island of the undead. “I know we’re going to win because we always do but what’s the odds, we win without having to kill Buffy’s son?” Willow asked Illyria, fearing her answer, but knowing Illyria would be honest about their odds. “The son of the slayer has survived far longer than I expected him to when we first met however, in this fight I believe in order to win, he must die, and I’m not one for losing,” Illyria answered honestly with a rare sign of reluctance which showed a sense of empathy towards the situation, a feeling which was rather new for the blue haired goddess. Before long Buffy, Willow, Illyria, and Faith had anchored the boats and were now on the sandy shores of the island, ready to face whatever awaited them on this prophesized island for vampire kind, but before they traveled further into the island, Buffy noticed another boat heading towards the island’s direction, instantly knowing it wasn’t Theo’s, as something in her gut told her that Angel was on that boat. “So, about not telling Angel about the mission…” Faith began to say to Buffy. “You decided to go against that I guess.” Buffy interrupted her fellow slayer, infuriated by her actions but understanding them at the same time. And so, Buffy waited for Angel’s ship to anchor itself near the island before deciding to get on the boat, going under the deck where Angel and Spike were hiding out from the sunlight, having had the help of Rupert Giles to sail the boat, and Xander Harris, because well he was Spike’s roommate, and one of Buffy’s best friends. “I told you she wouldn’t be happy with us tagging along on this one,” Spike said to Angel as the two vampires sat at a table within the kitchen room on the boat as Buffy walked in, the windows completely blacked out by carboard to protect the vampires from the sunlight. “Well, it’s a good thing I don’t give a damn about what she wants.” Angel snapped at Spike while standing up to face Buffy, furious with the slayer for once again going behind his back regarding their son. “I was just trying to save you the pain if things go bad out there!” Buffy told Angel. “Theo’s about to bring about another apocalypse and if I don’t make it in time to save him then I will have to stop him.” “I will not let you hurt our son Buffy!” Angel argued with the slayer, furious to learn that she was prepared to kill her own child. “I don’t care if he does bring about the apocalypse, there’s always some apocalypse and we always defeat it, but I will not lose him again…I will not let you take him away from me again!” “Do you think I want to kill my son? No, but he’s not leaving us much choice, and once again it falls on me to choose between someone I love and the rest of the world, you have no idea what that is like so don’t you dare stand there and judge me!” Buffy shouted at the brooding vampire, as Spike sat there having no choice but to watch the two bickerings with each other awkwardly. “I have lost people too Buffy, you’re not the only one who has had to make sacrifices, but I refuse to let you go in there ready to kill

him if you need to. What happened to the girl ready to risk the world for her sister? Why does Dawn mean more to you than your own son?” Angel continued to argue with the slayer furiously. “Dawn was an innocent, she did nothing wrong and has continued to do nothing wrong, Theo was a cold-blooded killer long before he became a vampire-like his father, Dawn never chose her fate, she fought against it like we all did but Theo is willingly choosing this and if we do not stop before he opens that Hellmouth then we have to throw his ass in there,” Buffy replied, equally as furious as Angel, not liking the position she had found herself in, willing to do anything to make this not true, but ready to accept whatever fate may fall upon her son, as she once again had to choose to be a chosen one over all else. Buffy knew she had the sun to her advantage, and she could use it along with Illyria, Giles, Willow, Xander, and Faith, to get trekking through the vampire island, and get a head start on Angel and Spike, hoping however the big battle went down that she could spare Angel the pain of seeing their son’s death even if she could not spare herself the same pain, but with only a matter of hours to go, and no clue where they were going on this island, the chances of this getting messy seemed unavoidable.

Theo, of course, was one step ahead of the others, as he and his gang of vampires sought refuge from the sunlight within one of the islands’ caves, but instead of sleeping like his minions, Theo stayed up plotting, marking out what he could see of the island and patrolling the cave for any signs of them being ambushed, knowing the champions of this world would no doubt find their way here sooner or later, however, it was when the slayer of slayers went deeper into the caves that he once again saw Sineya appear in front of his eyes. Sineya, was no stranger to Theo, for the two had met before, a very long time ago, but her presence was still a shock considering the first-ever vampire slayer was killed long before his time, and many others, but as he saw her for the second time since arriving on the vampire island, he could not help but want to know the reason behind her presence. “Do you remember me?” Theo asked the primeval slayer, who nodded in agreement before he continued to ask. “Why are you here?” “The dirt beneath you is the same dirt I once stood on, do you not recognize a place you have been before? Much has changed but it still feels the same.” Sineya replied telepathically, her voice piercing Theo’s mind without the slayer so much as moving her lips. “No…the prophecies say this is vampire island, not slayer island.” Theo denied her claims almost instantly. “As long as there are vampires there are slayers…once only one slayer but now an army.” Sineya continued to telepathically speak, accessing Theo’s mind with ease. “We did not choose this path, but you did…now you must decide if you are vampire or slayer.” “I think I made that choice long before I actually became a vampire, how are you even here?” Theo responded coldly, not knowing that the primeval slayer could sense the uncertainty within his very soul. “You already are where you are looking to be but is it where you want to be?” Sineya informed him with her cryptic words, once again choosing to speak telepathically instead of out loud. “You can do what you came here to do but the question is, do you want to do it?” Suddenly, the first slayer once again vanished within the blink of the eye, but this time Theo noticed the caveman writings in front of him, within the depths of the cave, and as he began to decrypt what the pictures meant, he realized that through that very wall, was where the Hellmouth was located, he had somehow found it instinctively without even knowing, and that’s what Sineya was pointing out to him, forcing his hand to make his choice, but as ruthless, and evil, as Theo Frey could be, was he really ready to end the world just to claim an undead kingdom?

#buffythevampireslayer #buffy #btvs #angeltheseries #darkhorsecomics #buffyverse #fanfiction #fanfic #buffyfanfiction #angelfanfic #lgbtthemes #lgbtcharacters #lgbtcanoncharacters #buffysummers #angel #willowrosenberg #faithlehane #illyria #spike #originalcharacters #childrenofcharacters #vampireslayers #vampires #witches #werewolves #monsters #creatures #demons #buffyfamily #buffyfandom

[dancingkirby]

ATLA OC Week Day 6: Journey

@atlaocweek

Summary: Shiza and her son journey to Kyoshi Island to pay their respects to a fiery ancestor.

WARNINGS: Past homophobia.  Brief mention of a (mutually) nonconsensual sexual encounter.

Shiza and her younger son had been planning this trip for several years now, and had finally saved up enough money and freed up enough time for the long boat voyage to the far south of the Earth Kingdom.  Their destination: Kyoshi Island.  

When Shiza and Teza got there, they were surprised by how quiet this place was, with it being such a place of historical significance.  The islanders were an odd sort as well; soon after they got there, Shiza had witnessed one of them, a middle-aged man maybe a few years older than her, appear to have some sort of seizure and fall to the ground foaming at the mouth.  However, while she had panicked and shouted for help, none of the man’s fellow islanders had been concerned.

“Aw, don’t worry, Ma’am,” one woman finally said.  “He just does that sometimes.  He’ll be fine.”

The native residents had also been a little wary of Shiza and Teza at first because they were of Fire Nation origin, but they warmed up decidedly once Shiza had revealed the reason for their visit.  The little inn they stayed at was perfectly comfortable, and the food delicious and plentiful.  The day after their arrival, after a luxurious sleep-in, they were duly escorted up a small hill behind the main Kyoshi shrine until they reached a smaller shrine tucked away in the trees.

Obviously, this one didn’t get as much traffic in recent years.  However, the building had been maintained well.  It consisted of one tiny room, empty except for an offering tray and a life-size statue of Shiza and Teza’s direct ancestor…Rangi.  Avatar Kyoshi’s life partner.  (Rangi had been obliged to marry a Fire Nation man, since she was her family’s only child, but they’d gone their own ways after having the requisite two offspring.  This had been a mutually beneficial arrangement, since her husband had also been an only child and liked men.)  

The statue stood there proudly, hand on hips, glaring at anyone who dared approach it.  Rangi had lived a long life, almost 120 years, and had accomplished much during her life.  After her passing, it was said that Avatar Kyoshi had never been quite the same.  Shiza wondered what the boisterous, passionate, fiercely loyal Rangi would have thought about having such a meek and boring descendant as herself.  

She placed a bundle of dry noodles on the offering tray; this had been suggested by the islanders. Apparently, noodles had been something of an inside joke between Rangi and Kyoshi.  Then they both knelt.  For a few minutes, they held their positions without speaking, enjoying the quiet and serene aura of the place.  Then, Teza spoke up.

“Do you want to go first, Mom, or should I go?”  he asked. They had previously agreed that each of them would have a few minutes alone to say what they wished to their ancestor.

“I’ll go first,” Shiza said.  “Unless you really wanted to be first?”

Teza said that he was fine with that plan, and walked out.   Once she was certain that her son was out of earshot, Shiza began hesitantly speaking.

“Um…just so you know, I’m really good at thinking up big and important things to say, so bear with me, please.  If you’re even listening.”

She had been worrying that she’d just freeze up and not be able to think of anything to tell the statue at all, but while her words weren’t the most eloquent, she found them easily.

“I didn’t know that much about you until fairly recently,” she admitted.  “When I was a child, the sort of relationship you had with Kyoshi was illegal, and not talked about in proper society.  What was more, your lover was the incarnation of the Avatar.  Double no-no in the Fire Nation.  Whenever I brought you up, Mother would shush me.”

She touched her forehead to the smooth wood floor, gathering her strength for the next part of her story.  

“Teza was always really interested in you,” she said.  “I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it when it’s his turn.  He’d read any book about you that he could get his hands on. And I never questioned it.  I was just glad that he was reading anything; he inherited my difficulty with that, unfortunately.  But now I know what appealed to him so much.  You were a role model to him; a person who openly lived with the person she loved despite so many people being against it.  And I…really dropped the ball on that.”

Tears pricked at Shiza’s eyes as she remembered the day four years ago that she’d come home from grocery shopping only to find her younger son, only recently turned eighteen, standing in the living room surrounded by suitcases.  He’d told her that he was moving in with his boyfriend, and that she never had to see him again if she didn’t want to.  

She’d never liked to think about same-sex relationships before.  After all, when one grew up only hearing it discussed in the briefest of shocked and disgusted whispers, one wasn’t predisposed to feel favorably about the subject.  And then there’d been the time that Ozai had made her and Naoko do…that while he watched.  Even when Fire Lord Zuko lifted the ban on these relationships, Shiza hadn’t understood them, nor had she really wanted to.  Eventually, she had adopted a viewpoint which she had thought was a reasonable compromise: she was okay with them doing what they wanted in the privacy of their own home, but she didn’t like them flaunting their relationships in public where she and others were forced to see it.  

Then she’d seen how shy, sensitive Teza’s face had been twisted with worry.  I can’t keep this private anymore, it had said.  Will you hate me for it?  And she’d realized what a gigantic mistake she’d made.  

She had always loved her children with all her heart; had always prided herself on being a good mother.  And if that meant giving herself an enormous mental slap in the face, changing the entire way she thought…so be it.  The choice was clear. Almost immediately, she had firmly said that he was staying right here, and they shared a weepy embrace.  Although Shiza would have liked it to be the case that all if her problematic views had disappeared right then, that didn’t exactly happen.  She’d had a lot to learn; still did.  Sometimes, she still said bad things without thinking; however, she’d given Teza permission to call her out.  Jinhai and Teza’s siblings and stepsiblings had been accepting from the start, having grown up in the more relaxed Yu Dao, which also provided Shiza with a good example.  

“…Anyway, I’m so proud of him,” she told Rangi’s statue while dabbing at her eyes with the corner of her tunic.  “And I’m sure that you’d be, too.  He’s still with his boyfriend; his name’s Bingwen and he’s the perfect match for Teza. They did finally start living together last year.  Zoren and Ai send their best wishes.  Unfortunately, they were unable to make the trip…Ai’s busy with her summer kuai ball league, and Kiyi’s due to give birth any week now.”  Indeed, once she was done with this, Shiza would have to rush up to Capital Island to be with her daughter-in-law as she had her first child.

“Well, I guess that’s all from me.  It was nice talking to you, but I shouldn’t keep Teza waiting any longer,” she concluded. She got up rather slowly (Ack.  She wasn’t even forty yet, and her knees were already giving her trouble!), walked out of the shrine, and saw Teza sitting on a bench about twenty feet away.

“It’s all yours now!” she called out to him.  As he ran up the hill to take his turn, she took his place on the bench.  She felt at peace, as if she’d finally accomplished a big task that she’d been putting off for some time.  The physical journey to Kyoshi Island hadn’t been the only one she’d taken.  

#avatar: the last airbender #fanfic #atla oc week #non-con

[lauwrite1225]

Broken Crown || Finan x OC || Chapter 8

Summary :  Since the day he has been enslaved, Finan never thought that he would have to face his origins. But when an old friend made her arrival to Wessex, the Irishman is forced to deal with his past.

Other chapters

English isn’t my first language, if you see any mistakes, tell me :)

Warning : None

08 || SEA

The dinner in Aeglesburgh wasn’t as warming as in Coccham. There was no story telling nor jokes, only serious matters and long gazes hiding truth Ailis would probably never hear of. But it wasn’t strange to her and it somehow relieved her to know things were the same in different courts.

“Your King must have a great trust in you to send you here, Lady Ailis.”

Ailis turned her gaze to Aethelflead, surprised the woman wanted to start a conversation with her.

“We know each other since we are kids and our families were closed, it helps.” She smiled.

“Women having the full trust of men are rare, I am glad I had the chance to meet one.” Aethelflead said before drinking from her cup.

During their journey to Aeglesburgh, the men told her about Aethelflead and the strong woman she was. Indeed, being a woman in that world wasn’t an easy thing but it could also be a gift as Ailis learnt during the past years. Men could be oblivious in a woman presence, forgetting they had a mind too.

The dinner conversation finally turned to a lighter one as more and more ale was poured in cups. Ailis left her seat to join Finan at the other side of the table. His friend’s eyes were sparking, due to the alcohol, as she took place on the chair, leaning to grab the jag.

“Is there something between them?” She asked, pointing Aethelflead and Uhtred further.

An amused smile appeared on Finan’s face. “There was.” She raised an eyebrow, not really convince. “To take the Mercian’s throne, she swore to remain chaste.”

“Courageous.” She commented, taking a sip of ale. “She’s probably regretting it right now.” Finan chuckled a little.

“She’s just like you, devoted to her duty.”

“That’s the common point of many women, Finan, no matter who our fathers are.”

He nodded, avoiding her eyes. She finished her cup and stood up.

“I should go, we have a long road tomorrow, and I really need to rest.”

As she started to leave, Finan grabbed her wrist, causing her to turn away.

“Ailis… Thank you, for yesterday. For staying with me.” Her lips parted, thinking of his words and her future owns.

“Finan. No matter what we have become, you are still my friend.” His hand slipped to hers and she lightly squeezed his fingers. “I don’t want to lose you, not another time.”

Something sparked in Finan’s eyes through the alcohol. She couldn’t explain what it was but somehow, it acted on her, causing her to hold her breath just few seconds. It was the first he looked at her like that and far from being the last.

During their journey to Chester, she caught him several time. First it was small glances after he had made a joke, watching the way her face would light as she laughed. It would make her stop chuckling, meeting his brown eyes as he smirked. Then, it was longer staring, around the fire or when they were riding. She grew to appreciate the way his eyes would detail her features. And without even knowing, she, sometimes, found herself looking at him the same way. She noticed the man, not only the warrior, he had become. The way he cared for his companion as much as they cared for him. He was more mature, and ironically, when he started to laugh heartily, she could see the boy he was. And as much as the boy softened her, the man had a different effect on her. Indescribable but not less pleasant.

It took them more than a week to join Chester, rain making their travel harder. The weather was getting clearer as reached the city but Finan and Sihtric kept to express their doubt about the sky getting darker once they would be on the ship. All of it to scare Osferth, who didn't need more to feel unsure about the crossing.

Now they were on the ship, a bunch of mercian soldiers pulling the oars as they left the shoreline. 

“We should reach Ulfreksfjord in four days.” Declared the owner of the ship, turning to Uhtred.

“Four days?" Repeated Osferth from where he was sitting, clung to the side of the boat, his face pale. 

“If we are lucky, baby monk.” Reminded him Finan, his finger pointed to the now blue sky. 

The young man let out a complaining sigh as he looked down to the deep water. Ailis chuckled and patted his shoulder. 

“Don't worry Osferth, I am confident about the weather.” She said, but he didn't relax. She walked past him to join Uhtred in front, stopping a moment near Finan. "Don't laugh at him." She lectured him, but amusement was clear in her voice. 

“You're telling me that ten years too late.” He smirked. She rolled her eyes before joining Uhtred and the captain. 

Indeed, weather had been graceful with them, but it didn't prevent Osferth to empty his stomach each time the wind would rise. 

The coast was now visible. Huge cliffs where waves came to crash. Finan's eyes wandered on the landscape, his shoulder pressed against the bow. The last time he saw those lands he was a young man. A young man who had just lost everything. Now he was a man. He didn't have much, but it was well enough for him. As they approached, he realized that he didn't miss those lands. They weren't what he should have called home. 

His home was Coccham, where him and others Uhtred's men made their life. And that's only now, when he was about face the past he buried, that he realized how much this home meant for him. It wasn't just the place, but the peoples. Peoples he grew to know and respect. Maybe Navan Fort had been home for him once, but he was sure it couldn't be anymore. 

Ailis' hand on his shoulder dragged him out of his thoughts. Maybe she was the exception of his statement. He deeply missed her but as days passed, the feeling disappeared to let another build in his mind, or rather his heart. He had known a girl and he had a lot to learn about the woman. Yet, he found himself fascinated by her.

“We need to talk, about what will happen once we are in Navan Fort.” She said, her hand leaving his shoulder.

He held her gaze a moment, feeling her own worry, before looking back to the cliffs.

“I am coming with you, to meet Conall.” He could easily imagine the way her brows furrowed as he spoke.

“Finan, are you sure?” Ailis asked, her arms now crossed on her chest.

“I want him to know that I survive.” He answered, determination clear in his voice.

Finan never wished to come back to Irland, nor to take his revenge, but his path was leading him back there. Conall wanted to get rid of him, to make him suffer and Finan wanted him to know that whatever pain his punishment brought him, he didn’t break.

“His hatred didn’t fade Finan. Seeing you will make him furious.” He turned his head to look at her. “I’ll protect you, as much as I can, but you need to promise me one thing.” Finan frowned as she put both of her hands on his arms. “If he tries to hurt you, no matter how, don’t hit him back.”

“I should let him punch me and do nothing?” He scoffed, his eyes opened wide.

“Conall has no heir, this isn’t the time for him to play with his life.” She explained.

“You think I could kill him?” He smirked. He couldn’t deny that the idea didn’t cross his mind.

“I don’t know and I don’t want to know.” She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. His smirk disappeared the moment her fingers touched his face, forcing him to look at her in the eyes. “Please, Finan. Promise me.”

His jaw clenched and he knew she could feel it because her fingers caressed his beard, trying to relax him. Her devotion to Conall irritated him. But could he blame her? Duty was what she swore to follow. And even if he couldn’t understand, he couldn’t deny it was what brought them together again.

“Do it for me.” She pleaded him.

He couldn’t help but appreciate the touch of her fingertips running down his cheek. He sighed and lightly nodded.

“I promise.” He exhaled.

They arrived at Ulfreksfjord before night and it was with a big relief that Osferth put a foot on the ground. They easily found a place to spend the night. The city was calmer than usual. There was fewer merchants and boats and Ailis guessed it was the impact of the Dane’s invasion. She quickly tried to get information about the situation. Fortunately, Navan Fort was still holding but the South of Ulaid was still under Danish attacks.

During the whole dinner, Ailis didn’t stop thinking about their arrival. How could she explain to Conall that there would be no army? That Edward’s solution would make them lose the South? The burden of a King made Conall change on many points, but not wisdom. He will be upset and will show it.

“You seem concerned about something.” Uhtred noticed as he sat next to her.

“I am.” She admitted. “I am figuring out how I should tell Conall about Edward’s proposal. But every way leads to the same point.”

“You shouldn’t worry about that. What you need is to convince him.” Uhtred had the point, Conall will be upset in any cases. “And, I am Edward’s voice, he might want to hear me.”

“What he wanted to hear was the sound of your sword.” She said, but the joke was bitter. Uhtred tilted his head in agreement. “But I guess that once more, I don’t have other choices.”

Too much in her life she had only one choice. It was a real burden and yet she continued to carry it. So, during the rest of the night, she thought about how to convince her King, but she fell asleep before finding the solution. It was during their ride, the next day, that she faced the fact. Conall will have to understand that, just like her, he didn’t have other choices. Without that peace, like Edward said it, there soon will be no Ulaid but only another Dane land.

While Ailis was deep in her thoughts, Finan attention was turned to the lands they were crossing. He had taken this road so many times when he was young. The first time, he was twelve years old and his father had decided it was time for him to have interest in the Kingdom’s affairs. They had spent a week in Ulfreksfjord, negotiating with merchants in the King’s name. Finan remembered nothing of the discussions, his attention always attracted by something more interesting to the eyes of a boy, to his father’s dismay.

“Is that a monastery?” Osferth asked, pointing a building on top of a hill further.

“It’s Knockcloghrim monastery, isn’t it?” Finan answered, turning to Ailis to have her approval.

She nodded. “It is. It’s Rohan and Bran’s monastery.” Finan’s eyes alternate between Ailis and the building.

For a moment he wondered what had become of his sons. They, for sure, couldn’t remember him. Rohan was barely two years old when Conall banished him. All Finan remembered of him was a smiling boy with the same hair and eyes than his mother. As for Bran, he was just a baby. Last time he saw him, he was asleep in his crib and Finan was about to leave with Moira. His own father may have been terrible towards Conall and him, Finan couldn’t consider to have done better with his own children.

It was after a week of ride that they finally perceived Navan Fort, this proud city perched at the top of its hill. The nearer they were from the walls, the tighter Finan gripped the reins of his horse. The ramparts had always been impressive but they had never scared him. Now he couldn’t deny how threatening the stones were.

The moment they’ll cross the gates, there would be no going back.

A/N : FINALLY THEY ARE IN ULAID. AND FINALLY SLOW BURN REALLY BEGINS LMAO. Sorry, this chapter is shorter than usual, but I didn’t want to start the meeting during this chapter ahah. Next chapter will be... Interesting ? 🙄

Tag :  @geekandbooknerd​ @sihtric​ @queen-manning​ @naihqh​ @kelly-fasel​ @cloudjuumpers​ @limenal​ @amyyreblogss​​ and @queerbroceliande​

#finan the agile #finanxoc #finan #the last kingdom #broken crown

[readerstories]

My best friend - Roronoa Zoro x fem!reader

Don’t know if this is exactly what the requester wanted, but here you go :P Placed somewhere between Sky Island and Water 7. If you see any typos, please tell me. (AO3)

Warnings: none

Wordcount: 1985

Request: Hi! I was wondering if you could d a zoro roronoa x reader where the reader is a swordswomen and they become good friends but they slowly start to become romantically interested in eachother??

You and Zoro had know each other for a very long time. The two of you had first met when you were children, long before Zoro joined Luffy’s crew. Over the years you had gone separate ways, but you had a habit of running into each other without meaning to. 

Every time it was like you two never left each other’s side, and you just took up the conversation where it last left off. 

When Zoro joined Luffy’s crew, the meetings stopped, since they headed for the Grand Line while you stayed in the East Blue. 

Zoro didn’t really speak of you to the other crew members, but he misses you none the less. The crew are his friends, but you are his best friend. 

Sometimes, when he misses you the most, he would spend most of his down time gazing at the sky and wondering what you are up to. He guessed it couldn’t be anything too bad, since he never saw anything in the newspapers that was or could be about you. 

You could also be dead, but as soon as that idea popped into his head, he quickly abandoned it. You were not some kind of person he could imagine that would go out without at least making it news worthy. 

He knew that you probably had some idea as what he was up to, since the crew was making a name for themselves. He knew that you must have seen his bounty poster at some point, and he wonders how you felt. 

He knew that you most likely didn’t care, as you both had been on the grey side of the law most of the time anyways, but he couldn’t help but think about it.

It’s a calm day on the Merry, and as usual Zoro is napping on deck while the rest of the crew does whatever they like. He is vaguely aware of Luffy and Usopp sitting on the railing and fishing, while trading silly jokes between themselves. 

He’s half asleep and barely listening, but when Luffy says something about an approaching boat, he starts paying attention. Luffy and Usopp is arguing if the boat is coming closer or not, so Zoro decides he should go have a look. 

He gets up and walks over to Luffy and Usopp, and indeed, there is a small boat there. It’s tiny even to the Sunny, mainly comprised of a mast with a sail and a small cabin. He can’t see anyone on the boat.

“I think it is coming closer.” Usopp’s looks at Zoro where he is standing a few meters behind them and then back to Luffy. 

“See I told you so! What do you think it is? Maybe it’s-” Usopp’s out loud train of thought is broken right there, as something splashes over the water towards them, and before they know it, a person is between Luffy and Usopp. 

The seemingly half second they are there, Usopp has time to notice a smirk on their lips half hidden under a hood, and Zoro has barely enough time to draw two of his katanas to block theirs. 

The force of it sends him sliding backwards on the deck, he has no time at all before the person is attacking him again. The power behind the attacks are fierce, relentless, and weirdly enough, somewhat familiar. Zoro can’t pinpoint why, as he has little time to think between attacks.

Luffy and Usopp yells out, which makes the rest of the crew come to see what the hell is going on. Luffy tries to reach out, but before Zoro can yell for him to stay out of it, the swordsman deflects Luffy’s hands, sending him crashing into a wall. 

Zoro notices that Luffy isn’t bleeding at all when he gets up. The swordsman must have been using the blunt sides of the blades. Which means they only want to fight him, and not hurt anyone else. He yells this out loud to the rest of the crew. 

The momentarily slip of full concentration seems to give his opponent the tiniest of windows, and they send him reeling backwards again. As he gets some distance, the figure talks.

“Still not letting others fight your battles for you Zoro? Very good!” He realises then why the attacks seemed so familiar. He has blocked them hundreds, if not thousands times before. He almost doesn’t dare speak your name in fear of being wrong, but when the figure takes their hood off, he lets it slip anyway. You grin.

“Thought you might have forgotten me there for a second.” Zoro finds himself smiling back, and then his katanas clatter to the ground as he rushes forward to hug you. You laugh and hug him back. The rest of his crew sends confused looks between themselves, not understanding the sudden shift in tone. Zoro lets go of you so he can face them all.

“Everyone, meet my best friend.” You wave, presenting yourself properly with your full name and a peace sign.

“Nice to meet everyone!” Before anyone can say anything else, Sanji runs over and takes it in his. He kisses your hand, his eyes almost going heart shaped.

“Ahhh, such a pretty lady. How do you know such a brute as Zoro?” Zoro ignores the glare sent his way, while you pull your hand out of Sanjis. 

“Oh, we known each other since we were kids, and since we always ran into each other back in East Blue, we stayed friends over the years.” You sling an arm around Zoro’s shoulder and he can’t help but smile at the familiar weight of it.

“And then this dummy up and left East Blue, so eventually I decided I should probably follow him.” You ruffle his hair. Zoro can see the confusion on his crew members faces, except from Luffy, who nods.

“It’s decided then.” Luffy says, confusing everyone even more, including you.

“What?” You ask, but Zoro already knows the words that are going to come out his captains mouth.

“You are going to be our new crew member” A chorus of groans and “Luffy, no”, rises from the crew. Zoro notices you seem slack-jawed, but you regain your composure quickly.

“Yeah, sure!” You say with a smile, and just like that, the Strawhats have another member.

-----------

After that first day, you settle in rather quickly. You learn that the whole crew is quite the cast of characters and you love it. You have some favourites of course (Robin is interesting to say the least) and some not so favorite (Sanji had gotten a few bonks on the head with the handle of your katanas before the heart eyes stopped), but all in all you really like everyone. 

It also feels wonderful traveling with others again, especially when one of them is your best friend. It was so good to see Zoro again and hang out with him. And now you were in the same crew, so you wouldn’t need to be apart again. 

Which both of you enjoyed immensely, maybe you even more than him, since your old crush on him was flaring up again. You do your best to ignore it however, not wanting to spoil the friend reunion. 

One night, after dinner, you and Zoro start drinking together while reminiscing about old times. You get so into the conversation that the rest of the crew leaves you to it. 

In the middle of another story about how you beat up someone who challenged you in a bar, you hear two splashes, and then Nami screaming. It quickly becomes apparent that Luffy and Chopper have gone overboard. 

Without even thinking, you run forward to the railing, jumping over it and down to the freezing water down below. As soon as you are under, you spot the two of them sinking. 

A splash next to you and then Zoro is there too. 

You exchange a glance, and then you swim towards Chopper while he goes for Luffy. Dragging them both towards the surface, all four of you gasp for air as soon as you can. 

Careful not to lose Chopper, you carefully swim towards the boat and climb the ladder Usopp threw down. As soon as you place Chopper on the deck, he coughs up even more water, Luffy doing the same as soon Zoro and him joins you.

“You guys okay?” Luffy and Chopper nod, but says nothing. You breathe a sigh of relief while standing up. 

“Good. Going to go out on a limb here and say don’t play wrestle that close to the railing next time all right?” You take their silence as an yes. You wring out as much water as you can from your clothes. You’re soaked and so is Zoro. 

“Zoro, going to need to borrow one of your shirts, mine is still hanging out to dry after I washed them.”

“Sure.” You had done similar things over the years, so it comes naturally for you to ask and for Zoro to say yes. You follow Zoro while Nami yells at Chopper and Luffy for being so stupid. When the hatch closes behind you and you have your feet on the floor, you groan and stretch.

“Gotta say, Devil Fruits are really cool and all, but don’t think I would ever give up the ability to svim.” Zoro just hums, used to hearing you talk without needing a response.

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind like being my own personal lighter or something but-” You are cut off by Zoro’s shirt hitting you in the face.

“Thanks!” Without hesitation you pull of your own shirt, letting it drop to the floor.

“You got any towels around here?” You look up and catch Zoro looking the the new scars on your stomach.

“Those new?” 

“Yeah, got them in a bar fight of all things.”

“Look nasty.”

“You’re one to talk, with the one all over your chest.” Zoro shrugs and takes of his own shirt, letting that too fall to the floor. You can’t help the small hitch in your breath that comes from seeing it in its entirety. You walk closer to him, and in the small space it only takes a few steps. You touch the upper edge of the big scar, Zoro lets you, just watching.

“I wish I was there when it happened.” Zoro grunts, not really sure how to approach the subject, since he’s rarely a man of many words.

“Hey, you’re here now. I don’t care that you weren’t there then, I’m just happy that we found each other again.”

“Well, more like I found you.” Zoro snorts.

“Besides, it’s not like I don’t think the same about these.” Zoro touches the scars on your stomach, and you draw in a sharp breath. Looking up, you lock gazes with him. You feel your heart having its own 100 meter race in your chest. 

You don’t know if it’s Zoro’s touch or his words, but you feel the love for the man soar. Which guides your next action. 

You keep eye contact while your hands go the his shoulders, and then you are leaning forward, pressing your lips to his. 

It is brief, and when you lean back, Zoro mirrors you, and then he is kissing you. 

The brief shock is gone in second and then you are ecstatic, kissing him back. You can hardly believe it, but the man you love is kissing you.

After a while you break apart, and you lean your head on Zoro’s shoulder. His arms circle your back, stroking you slowly.

“We should probably go back up so the others won’t start to wonder what we are doing back here.”

“Mhm.” You look up at Zoro and grin, he finds himself matching it. You share one more kiss before putting your dry shirts on and joining the rest of the crew.

#roronoa zoro #One Piece Fanfiction #one piece #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #one piece fanfic #reader #reader insert #readerinsert #written #fem!reader #1500

[randomguywithwords]

Thanks For The Assist: Chapter 2 (Itsuka X Neito Story)

AO3 Link: Here

Chapters: 1

Chapter 2: Acceptance

––––––––

“How was the test?” Father asked as the three of them sat at the dinner table eating. 

“Ok, I think I did fine,” Monoma said as he picked up a slice of meat.

“How were you graded?” Mother said. 

“Fought some robots. You get points the more you destroy. The harder the robot, the more points you get. The field was massive, pretty much a life-size city, and I think they had at least 3.” Monoma explained with patience, though he suspected this expositioning was boring the other audience with information they already knew. 

Mother hummed her assent. “I’m not surprised. U.A has a ton of money. More money than they need, really…” She ended her statement in a mutter. It sounded like constrained resentment to Neito. It probably was, but understandable. 

“Isn’t the ministry diverting more money towards your school, dear?” Father said. 

“Yes, I suppose. After years of appeals by the school committee. Hopefully I can obtain better equipment to teach those kids.” Mrs Monoma sighed, looking back towards Neito. “But I hope you get in, Neito. I have to admit, it’s really once-in-a-lifetime, and U.A will make you a fine hero.”

“Thanks, mother.” Neito smiled. A fine hero. The phrase did not apply to him, not in the societal nor linguistic sense of the word. A hero relied on himself to get the job done, at the end of the day. With what he had, that was an impossibility. 

“None of the other kids gave you trouble, did they?” Father asked, and Monoma winced on the inside, thinking about the events transpiring just after the test. 

“No, they were nice people,” He said. It was no lie, by technicalities. There was that girl, after all. Kendo, was it? She was nice. 

Father seemed to perk up at his answer, gladdened. “That’s good,” He gave an approving nod. “I’m glad they weren’t like your schoolmates.”

Neito waved his hand like an aristocrat at a banquet. “Nah, I think maybe those guys were just ––” He struggled for the proper word. “Lame.” He ended, and grinned internally at the apt description of his dialogue. But that smile died in the next instant when he thought about what he had wanted to say. 

Flat characters. A character with one dimension, owning a singular character trait to serve a purpose in a story. That’s what he called them, but not Mother. 

“About time kids your age learned some maturity,” She said, her ‘teacher’ side emerging. “Not you, Neito – of course. You’re a sensible boy. Apart from your silly theatrics, but you’ll grow out of it.”

There it is, He sighed, on the inside – or, aside. That was how the plays would state inner actions on the script. But Mother doesn’t like plays, does she now? 

“Neito, tell us about the fighting,” Father interjected with a smile that was a bit too wide, “What quirks did you use?” 

Neito gave a response, but his heart was no longer in the conversation, having been chilled by Mother’s own lovely warmth that she had no idea she was radiating. 

–––––

The letter came a week later when his parents were at work. Neito opened it up in his room. After all, where else would he? Only in his room could he find solace. And on his bed, comfort, so he plopped himself down and opened the envelope. 

The contents contained a disc. A holographic. Taking it out and laying it on his bed, he pressed the blue button in the centre, producing a video on the wall.

It was the scene of an office, with a mouse sitting on a chair and a cup of tea on the glass table. He recognised the principal of U.A himself.

“Neito Monoma! Very good afternoon, or morning, or night, to you – depending when you see this, of course. On the off chance you are unaware of me, I am Nezu, principal of U.A High. This video is approximately 5 minutes long, but I will save you the suspense. You got in. Congratulations.”

His heart soared, and he pumped a fist in the air, breathing a sigh in much-desired catharsis. Had he been holding that in since the beginning? 

“You are, both celebrating – I would hope, and also wondering what the remaining 4 and a half minutes are about. Please do not ignore the rest of this video, because I want to review two things: your performance at the entrance exam, and your quirk. Take a look at this.” 

The video showed clips of Monoma from a birds’ eye view, running around and using his borrowed quirks, as well as him tapping random strangers. He noted how a lot of them turned their heads in evident surprise and puzzlement at him patting them on the shoulder or arm. And then the clip played of him taking a couple of points away from those guys. 

Nezu clucked his tongue. “Many in society would deem that as ‘un-hero-like’ behaviour, as it can be interpreted as stealing, or taking what does not belong to you. Criminal acts indeed, if the deed is severe and the stolen thing valuable. But, your quirk acts on that very principle of taking what does not belong to you.”

The (overwhelmingly intelligent, Monoma realised) mouse continued, “I’ve taken the liberty of reviewing your application and academics. You boast admirable grades in your middle school, and your form teacher commented that you were a highly observant, smart and mature student. I could go on, but you know what you’ve submitted. I will continue with that presumed knowledge.”

“You must have realised by now, or very early on in your career as a hero aspirant, that your quirk is unorthodox, having no use on its own. You require allies, or foes who you can lay a finger on, to fight. And even then, you must hastily adapt to whatever quirk you have under your control, for a period of time. Lots of limitations, Mr Monoma. A lot of challenges you have faced, are facing, and will face. And when you are initiated into my school, expect more.” Nezu took a sip of his tea.

“That’s not to say you will face difficulties many would describe as ‘hell’ at U.A. And neither does my previous statement imply U.A is not ‘hell’.” He paused. “Do excuse my roundabout mannerisms of speech. It is a bad habit of mine.” Nezu chuckled.

“Simply put, I have taken a personal interest in you, Mr Monoma, for your cunning, your intellect, and your quirk. Report to me after your first day of school. We will talk more then. Congratulations once more. Another letter will arrive tomorrow to inform you of the minutiae regarding your inception into U.A. Good day, Neito Monoma.”

The holographic faded out, and Neito was staring at a blank wall for a few seconds trying to process whatever Nezu had said.  

A buzz from his phone pulled him out of his hazy thoughts. He is...really smart. 

It was from Kendo. “Hi, Monoma, It’s Kendo! The girl with big hands. Wanted to ask you whether you received the letter from U.A.” 

He typed a response. “Yeah, I got a letter. What’s your verdict?” 

Fingers crossed. 

She responded, “I got in. >< You?” 

A smile spread across his face. “Same, that’s awesome. Congratulations.”

“YAY! :D We both did it! Congrats too! And I was so shocked that All Might was in the video! I nearly cried. Or maybe I did, idk. Sorry, I’m babbling at this point, but I don’t have anyone else to tell this to until my parents get home and I’m so hypeddd”

Huh? All Might? So Nezu specifically…

He typed, “It’s ok, I’m excited too. Though I don’t express it over text that much.” 

“Haha it’s ok. Can’t wait for the letter tomorrow. There’s so much to do! Hero costume, uniforms, books, all that. And term starts a month from now. Can’t wait!” 

“Wow, how’d you know all this?”

“Mainly from the internet. I was that hyped, y’know?”

He cracked another smile from her enthusiasm. It was oddly contagious, and he found himself more zealous to go to school. That was a statement he’d never think he could formulate in his mind. “I see. That’s cool.”

“Btw, if you wanna go celebrate with your family or friends, go ahead! I don’t wanna hold you back.”

“Nah, my parents are at work and I’m basically alone at home. Same boat as you. So, fire away.”

“Ah, ok!” 

The conversation continued with Kendo gushing about their new life, and Monoma passively followed along, inserting a few comments here and there. But he didn’t feel like he was stuck at a family reunion forced to endure his grandfather’s stories with a placating smile and affirming nods peppered in occasionally. She was actually interesting, and amusing, in a good way. 

The topic was centered around school and academics, with little butting into personal lives, and Monoma didn’t pry. She was still a stranger, somewhat, albeit she would be his new schoolmate – and perhaps classmate. He crossed his fingers again, hoping that Fate would tap him lightly on the head once more with her providence. 

He smiled when Kendo typed, “Hope we become classmates :D. Apparently there are always 2 first-year classes. So it’s basically a coin flip.”

“Heads.” 

“Rly? Do you always choose heads?”

“Yeah.” 

“I’m more of a switcher.”

“How do you decide when to choose heads or tails then?”

“Coin flip.”

“That made me laugh, thank you.”

“Why do you need to thank people for making you laugh? It’s a spontaneous thing.”

“That’s...oddly profound.”

“Or just a dumb statement made to sound fancy. Ah, sorry, I have to go now. But thank you for your time. It was great chatting :)” 

“Why do you need to thank people for chatting with you? It’s a spontaneous thing. Joking aside, thank you too.”

“Nice haha” Was her last message. Neito turned his phone off and lied down on his bed. A moment passed, and Neito took a coin from his study desk. It was a silly thing to do, but his room was his stage. He was performing for himself. 

He gave it a toss and caught it. 

Seeing the result, he grinned.

–––––––

Yeek, this took longer than it should have, sorry. Had a bit of writer’s block when it came to planning this thing and I wasn’t sure how to move on. Also the tone of this is especially terrifying for me because it’s definitely going to be (ironically) more light-hearted, with Monoma’s dramatic language and (side thoughts) occasionally inserted, but that brings the challenge of need. When to do that, when not to. This story is a personal challenge to change my narrative style just slightly. 

Anyway, I hoped you MonoKendo ppl liked it. A lot of people have told me it’s unfortunate the ship lacks content and I couldn’t agree more. But then again, that’s about 75% of the ships out there. (Fk it, 90%). So, here’s my contribution, alongside some other one-shots. 

Feedback’s appreciated :D

#bnha #mha #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #neito monoma #neitomonoma #mha neito #bnha neito #itsuka kendo #bnha itsuka #mha itsuka #monoma #monokendou #monoma x kendo #kenmono #kendo x monoma

[yatorihell]

In The Darkness Chapter 54 - The Serpent

Noragami x Harry Potter AU

Words: 3,730

Summary: Yato returns home for Christmas, and the prophecy is nearly within reach...

Also available on Yatorihell AO3

When Christmas break arrived Yato could barely hide his excitement.

For years he’d been left at Hogwarts or, more recently, had followed Yukine home. But now he would have his first family Christmas – one that he could actually remember.

The row of houses along Grimmauld Place were dusted with snow which hid the black-tiled roofs and piled up in the empty flower boxes that lined the black iron fences that gated each house.

Number Twelve grated its way into existence, the golden lamplight shining through the windows invitingly and a wreath of holly hung around the serpent door knocker.

Sakura opened the door as Yato approached, hearing the squeak of the frozen gate as it closed behind him. She wore a long red dress and a beaming smile, and Yato couldn’t help but think she was dressing up as Santa.

“Merry Christmas, Yato,” Sakura said as she folded him into an embrace. Her warmth soaked his snowflaked coat, scarf pressed up against his nose as he returned the hug.

He was happy to be home.

There was a strong smell of pine and roasting chestnuts that filed the house as Yato lugged his suitcase into the hallway. Compared to his first visit, Grimmauld Place looked like a different place entirely. Light, sleek wallpaper covered the walls and black skirting boards edged the dark green carpet that ran through the entirety of the downstairs. Holly had been twined around the polished bannister and spiralled staircase where Yato could hear Buckbeak’s distant squawk at hearing a new visitor.

In the corner of the living room was a large pine Christmas tree dressed in silver and gold baubles, tinsel, and streamers. Pale golden lights danced between the spiky branches and a small silver star glittered at the top of the tree, barely touching the ceiling. A few brightly wrapped presents were tucked out of sight on the floor beneath the lower branches, and Yato’s excitement grew.

Yato noticed skewers of chestnuts roasting in the fireplace which was hung with three red stockings, and boxes of half-eaten sweet treats scattered across the table.

“Ebisu is making dinner, then we’ll play some games, ok?” Sakura said.

Yato nodded with a smile. He walked his suitcase out of the living room and headed up the stairs. Sakura headed down to the kitchen where the heavenly smell of roast potatoes and roast chicken wafted up and made Yato’s mouth water.

The gas lamps were lit all the way up the stairs, showing off the decorations Sakura and Ebisu had adorned on the walls. Yato smiled at the holly wreath that lay on the floor outside Buckbeak’s room as he threw himself at the door shrieking. Yato called out to him loudly, and Buckbeak ceased his hammering; it seemed he recognised Yato’s voice and was placated at knowing who had arrived.

Yato continued up to his room, finding it just as he had left it when he left and began unpacking. He found a box of chocolates on his bedside table as he set his hand mirror down. Yato smiled again.

This was going to be a good Christmas.

The days rolled past in games, snow, and late nights in front of the fire. Although Ebisu had unnerved him, Yato found himself growing used to the ‘new’ addition to the family.

On Christmas Eve, Madame Kofuku and Daikoku made an unexpected appearance to wish them a Merry Christmas.

Sakura invited them in from the snowstorm, flurries of snow stuck to their clothing as they stamped the snow off their boots and laughed with pink cheeks. Madame Kofuku shrugged off her red coat which was trimmed with white, alike to Daikoku’s maroon overcoat and black scarf.

Sakura ushered them into the living room and onto the small two-seater sofa, which looked more like a loveseat under Daikoku’s frame as Madame Kofuku curled up beside him. Sakura produced glasses from the cabinet in the corner of the room and a dark, thin bottle; it seemed Santa would get her sherry.

The sickly-sweet smell breached Yato’s senses, and although Sakura had made it very clear that he wouldn’t be drinking by only taking out three glasses, Yato was glad he didn’t have to drink it.

The conversation turned from the Order of the Phoenix to Hogwarts. Sakura had already informed Madame Kofuku about Yato’s secret ‘club’, but Madame Kofuku reassured Yato.

“If you need anything or an alibi, come straight to me,” Madame Kofuku said. She swirled her sherry in her glass before downing the last dredges of the syrupy liquor and stood up, signalling it was time to leave.

Sakura walked the couple to the front door where they shrugged on their coats. Yato followed and noticed Ebisu peeking around the corner from the kitchen stairs and gave him a small smile as he passed. Ebisu was as equal as anyone in this house, but he still felt the need to hide his presence as a house elf despite his freedom.

A gust of wind blew in through the house and sapped the heat into the night air. Orange patches of streetlights shone down onto the snow and illuminated the light snowstorm that encircled Madame Kofuku and Daikoku as they stepped onto the street.

Daikoku paused and looked back at Yato.

“Be careful.” Daikoku regarded him with serious, reproachful eyes, knowing what Yato was risking if he or anyone else got caught by the Ministry. He didn’t condemn their actions, but they were bold indeed.

Yato nodded. “I will.”

Madame Kofuku linked her arm with Daikoku’s and put a hand up in farewell, and they disappeared into the night.

On Christmas morning, Buckbeak was let out of his half-destroyed bedroom. The festive period was a time for family; they were mismatched but a family still. ‘A fugitive, a wizard, a house-elf and a stolen Hippogriff’, Yato had joked.

Buckbeak took over an entire couch as they opened their presents, nipping at the baubles that hung off the Christmas tree and pulling at the fairy lights until Sakura scolded him. The promise of ferrets was enough to keep him quiet until dinnertime.

Yato had a miserable time trying to find presents for Sakura. In the end he went with a ring that he thought would match the locket he had found in the goblet in the library, a book by an author who had published more books since her time in Azkaban, and a long scarf.

Ebisu received new clothing, which was well needed as he hadn’t received any since Sakura freed him. He received a clean tunic, socks, a nightcap and pyjamas, which would look strange as it would appear as if a child would be wandering around the house from now on.

As for Yato, he received a black beanie, matching black jacket and trousers, a white bandana, and a wand case that was similar to the one Sakura kept hers in.

Yato looked under the tree again and saw a small parcel tucked next to the tree trunk. The final gift was wrapped in silver snowflake paper, and when Yato plucked it out he saw his name written in capital letters on the tag.

He looked at Sakura who had caught wind of what he had found and smiled.

Yato tore it open and a heavy rectangle fell into his lap. Flipping it over, Yato found it was a moving picture in a silver frame of the original Order of the Phoenix, akin to the one in the library. He could see a young Sakura smiling back at him, as well as Madame Kofuku and Daikoku. Yato scanned the picture, trying to work out who Kazuma’s and Bishamon’s parents were in the faded picture. He spotted a woman who reminded him of Bishamon, but no one else he could match to the pair.

“If you get a picture of your Order, I have another frame you can put it in,” Sakura said.

Yato looked at her and grinned. He would like that. The old and the new Order of the Phoenix, parents and their children fighting the same war decades apart for the same cause.

Not long after midday Ebisu had finished cooking Christmas dinner. The turkey was fat and golden, steam rising from the dish as Sakura set it down on the dining room table. Scarlet and gold Christmas crackers lay between the platters of roast potatoes, steamed vegetables and Yorkshire that filled the table surrounding their empty plates. A large gravy boat threatened to spill its contents on the white tablecloth that was embroidered with holly wreaths and mistletoe, making Yato extra careful when he handled it as to not ruin the covering.

They ate until they were stuffed, and then some more when the Christmas pudding and custard came out. The table lay in ruins, too bothered to clean up until much later on.

Yato heard Buckbeak in the back garden having his own feasts of ferret and pheasant as he made his way to the living room and collected his presents to put them upstairs. Ebisu had vanished to the kitchen along with Sakura, beginning to make a dent in the mountain of washing up that Yato imagined was comparable to when they had come back to Grimmauld Place.

They lay around after they had rectified the dining room watching trashy Christmas TV and films until the sun had set and the fireplace had begun to crackle. Yato could see the snowfall beyond the netted curtains and the faint sound of voices and laughter outside where the neighbouring Muggles had begun making their way to pubs in the holiday spirit.

Once Ebisu had gone to bed, nightcap and pyjamas in hand, Yato decided it was a good time to ask Sakura about the Order. Yato glanced across from Sakura who had long tuned out of the Christmas special on TV and was looking into the fireplace, glass of sherry in hand.

“Sakura?” Yato asked.

“Mmm?” Sakura replied, she had snapped out of her thoughts and looked at Yato, a small smile on her face. She wasn’t merry on sherry, Yato was sure, but having a Christmas with family for the first time in years must have lifted her mood.

“I was wondering if you recruited any of the pureblood families into the Order?” Yato asked.

Sakura looked pensive and looked into the fireplace, glass in hand resting on the armchair. “Not that I can think of. Maybe a few who were in the old Order. Why?”

Yato leaned forward on the sofa slightly, arms resting on his legs. “Well, you said that your parents were in the Order, and that you recruited people like you…”

By this Yato meant orphans or those who had lost relatives in the First Wizarding War, like Sakura herself.

“Yes?” Sakura said slowly. She cast a look back at Yato, eyebrows scrunched together quizzically and firelight flickering across the side of her face.

Yato glanced at his hands with a deep breath before looking back at her expectant face.

“Well, there’s a few kids at Hogwarts whose families are in the Sacred Twenty-Eight, Kazuma and Bishamon. I think Bishamon’s parents were in the original Order of the Phoenix.”

Sakura frowned at this, but Yato continued quickly.

“I know you don’t want to recruit children, but Yukine and Hiyori are practically Order members too, and Kazuma and Bishamon are part of Hogwarts’ Order of the Phoenix, they’re the best in the class!”

Sakura’s mouth pulled into a reluctant smile at the name they’d given themselves. “So, you want them to join the Order?”

Yato nodded.

Sakura let out a small sound, although it was not a bad sign. “For now, having them in your Order is good enough. Maybe after we get the prophecy we could see if they would like to join.”

Yato took that as a yes. He smiled. “Thanks, Sakura.”

“But don’t go saying anything to them yet,” Sakura warned. She pointed at him with her glass with a faux menacing look that was betrayed by her smile. “Wait until we have the prophecy.”

Yato nodded, satisfied.

It looked like the Order had two new members.

~

On New Years Eve, Yato Sakura and Ebisu (who stood on a chair) watched London light up from the upper floors of the house. They could hear the distant singing of Auld Lang Syne that was nearly drowned out by brilliant fireworks screaming and exploding as far as the eye could see as the New Year was rung in.

Sakura gave Yato a kiss on the cheek and Ebisu a kiss on the forehead, wishing them a Happy New Year. Yato smiled. Over the Christmas period she had acted like a mother more than a sister, but any way he looked at her she would always be his family.

They didn’t stay up for too long, the sound of fireworks following them to their beds and becoming white noise as they drifted off to sleep.

Little did they know, this was the year of the snake.

~

Yato came to slowly, and he could see that he was no longer in bed.

He was on the ground, moving slowly and a sound like nails grating softly on a chalkboard followed him. A great expanse of black tiled marble surrounded him, and out of the corner of his eye he could see a reflection. Patterned scaled skin dragged along the floor in sync with his movements, the long body of a thick snake following behind him.

A door came into view, grey with a brass handle in the centre. Yato couldn’t make out the engraving that was engraved on the circumference of the handle, but he assumed it was Latin.

He blinked and the door was gone.

Instead, he saw a man in a long coat walking up an aisle of shelves that seemed to go on forever. The man held his wand up, the tip glowing brightly and illuminating his surroundings.

Yato moved slowly, following the man who seemed familiar. His eyes drifted to the shelves which were lined with milky spheres held in small, ornate stands, and a whisper of his name came from somewhere within them.

The sound of scales chaffing against the marble made the man pause. His wand illuminated the scratchy stubble on the side of his face and slicked-back hair as he turned slowly, eyes on the ground, and his gaze fell on Yato.

Daikoku.

In an instant it was as if Yato had struck, vision blurring with the speed of the action.

He recoiled just as fast as he had moved and Daikoku was on the ground, wand clattered to the ground beside him and the tip fading away. The only light that allowed him to see his prey now was that which emanated from the orbs that silently watched over the assault.

Yato’s vision blurred and he lurched forward, and in the next second Daikoku was covering his head from his assailant.

Another strike. A scream.

Daikoku’s face came into view. Yato’s stomach flipped over. Daikoku looked at him, fear like that which he saw in his eye the night he lost control of his werewolf side and he felt him lose his humanity. Blood streamed from wounds on his face and his hands which were held out to protect himself, but it was already too late to stop.

Another scream pierced through Yato, but this time it was his own.

Yato sat bolt upright, confronted by a bang and a brilliant white light that blinded him. He could feel sweat dripping down his back and under his bed-shirt, the duvets warmth suffocating him even though it was mid-winter.

The light dimmed and Yato saw Sakura, in the doorway with her wand drawn. Light from the hallway illuminating her figure and he could see the sheer terror on her face. Yato realised that the scream was his own, and Sakura had thought the worst.

Sakura’s wand fell to her side and she rushed to Yato, sitting on the edge of the bed and cupping his face in her hands.

“Yato, what’s wrong?” Sakura whispered gently. She swiped her thumb over his cheeks, trying to calm his breathing as his eyes looked around the room erratically.

“D-Daikoku, I-I saw him somewhere, in my dream, h-he was in trouble…” Yato managed to say.

Sakura’s face went serious, and she ran from the bedroom. Yato could hear her footsteps thundering down the stairs and disappear to the other side of the house.

Yato tried to calm his breathing and let go of the duvet when he realised that he had a death grip on it. He wiped his clammy hands over his face and let out a shaky breath.

After a moment, when his breathing had become more even, Yato swung his legs out of bed and stood up. The carpet was cold on his bare feet as he paced his way downstairs. He heard Buckbeak chirp from the other side of the door, perhaps sensing that something was amiss.

Yato approached Sakura’s room quietly and pushed the door gently. He could hear Sakura talking to someone.

“- of Mysteries… attacked…” Yato caught a few words Sakura said and heard a few more returned from an unknown voice.

Yato peeked around the corner of the door. Sakura was on her knees in front of her fireplace which crackled and covered the voice. If he didn’t know any better, Yato would’ve thought he could see a glimpse of a face within the flames.  

Yato pushed the door again but it let out a gentle squeak. Sakura turned and saw Yato peering into the room. She quickly dismissed whatever was in the fireplace with a few words and stood up. She held out an arm and gestured for Yato to sit on her dishevelled bed. The bed creaked under their weight and Sakura placed her hands around Yato’s.

“What was that?” Yato looked over Sakura at the fireplace.

“Just Floo powder. You can use it to talk to someone as well as travel,” Sakura explained. Her tone turned was monotonous, disguising the worry she felt as to not worry Yato.

Yato thought for a second in silence, piecing together his dream. The orbs, the snake, and who he had seen.

“That was real, wasn’t it?” Yato asked into the silence. A moment passed before Sakura answered.

“I’m afraid so, baby brother,” Sakura said gently.

“What happened?” Yato knew the answer, but he didn’t understand what happened. Why he had seen that? How it was him attacking Daikoku?

“Daikoku went to the Department of Mysteries to find your prophecy,” Sakura squeezed Yato’s hand. “We thought that looking for it in the holidays would be less risky; fewer people around.”

Yato looked at Sakura, wounded. Daikoku got hurt because of him; not directly, but he risked his life to break into the Ministry of Magic to find his prophecy.

“I don’t know what you saw, but it looks like the Sorcerer is a Legilimens,” Sakura continued.

Yato’s look of anguish slowly turned to one of confusion. “What’s a Legilimens?”

Sakura sighed, trying to find the words to describe such a person.

“A Legilimens,” Sakura said, “is a person who can get inside someone’s head, ’Mind-reading’, the Muggles call it.”

Sakura looked off into the distance with a slight frown, brow furrowed. “They can see if you’re lying, see your thoughts, emotions, memories, or influence you. Anything you know, they know.”

Sakura looked back at Yato, concerned eyes searching his as if she were trying to read his own thoughts. For a moment, he felt like she could read him like a book.

“Although it’s easier to perform Legilimency by making eye contact, the Sorcerer must have a Legilimency link to you, and it’s getting stronger the more powerful he becomes.”

Yato nodded, feeling sick. The Sorcerer grew more powerful as was now able to reach Yato in his own bed. Although Yato had an inside look at what the Sorcerer was doing whether he likes it or not, the Sorcerer could do just the same…

So that meant that the Sorcerer had shown him Daikoku on purpose.

Yato felt his eyes well, but he was too proud to cry infront of his big sister. Sakura noticed the emotion immediately and pulled Yato into a tight hug in the silence. Beyond his blurred vision, Yato could make out the fire dying down to a smouldering heap over her shoulder.

He sniffed, thinking about his dire circumstances, what was at risk now that the Sorcerer could get in his head. Sakura, Hiyori, Yukine, the Order… everything was at risk because of him.

But the more he thought about it, Yato realised that something didn’t add up: the snake.

Yato sniffed and pulled away, looking at Sakura with a steely look. “If I can see what the Sorcerer is doing, why did I see it through a snake?”

Sakura placed her hands in her own lap and shrugged.

“Some people are Animagus like me,” Sakura chided. “Maybe he is too.”

Yato nodded and let out a shaky breath. It was possible, but surely that sort of information would be known to the Order, unless it was a recent development.

“Can I stop him?” Yato asked. He looked at Sakura side-on and gestured to his head with a finger. “From getting in?”

Sakura gave him a gentle smile, thankful to have some good news to tell him. “Luckily for you, Madame Kofuku has a slight aptitude for Legilimency. I will ask her to give you Occlumency lessons at Hogwarts.”

Yato frowned at the name. “What’s that?”

“It’s a method you can learn to protect your mind against further invasions of a Legilimens,” Sakura replied.

For a second Yato was glad to have some sort of protection he could learn, but it was short-lived as guilt swallowed him.

Madame Kofuku….

Did she know what had happened to Daikoku? Was she the one Sakura was talking to in the fireplace?

Yato’s expression betrayed his thoughts, and Sakura could see the culpability that he felt from what he felt were his actions, although he did not commit the attack against Daikoku.

“He’ll be OK, Yato,” Sakura reassured him. “They’re already on their way to get him.”

Yato nodded mutely. He could only pray that Daikoku would live to forgive him.

#Noragami #noragami aragoto #yato #hiyori #iki hiyori #yukine #daikoku #kofuku #ebisu #sakura #hp au #harry potter au #in the darkness #my writing