#Yuu's coworker is covering for her

[bluesylveon2]

omg, can I request number 13 with sebek please?????

I did it anon! I wrote this! The ending could be better but I think this turned out good. This prompt really fit Sebek too lol

Prompt: 13. We make contact before trying to steal the last seat on the subway/bus/train and I end up in your lap and fuck you, I’m going to stay here because I’ve had a really long day and this seat was mine

Note: Modern au and aged up characters

Word Count: 1691

Warnings: not beta read, possible OOC characters (Sebek is an asshole at first), and an attempt at writing subways (I based it off NYC)

500 Follower Event

Yuu was having a not-so-good, horrible, very bad day.

It had all started when she had slept past her alarm and woke up to Grim, the recent cat she adopted, making her sofa a scratching post. Then, after running out of her house with a white blouse, a skirt, heels, and a cup of coffee in her hand, she magically ran into someone, spilling coffee on her clothes. 

The person apologized, but Yuu wanted to scream. She only had 5 minutes left until her shift at the office started, and she did not want her boss or coworkers to get on her about it. 

(There was a redhead in the IT department who was strict and infamous for lecturing a coworker who was late by two seconds). 

It was a stroke of luck that Yuu made it on time. Everyone was too busy to notice her arrival except for Vil, who gasped at Yuu's current state. Luckily for her, he had a blouse and a skirt that he lent her (but not before giving her a lecture about her appearance). 

The rest of her shift was boring after that. Yuu quietly sat in her cubicle while the chaos happened around her. It was a typical day, to say the least, until her boss, Dire Crowley, showed up with a mountain of paperwork and wanted it done by the end of the day because he was oh-so kind. It reminded her of the infamous trio in Accounting and Finance, who she was 100% certain were in the mafia. And so, Yuu left her job with a massive headache, a plastic bag with the company label of her soiled clothes, and a list of how to get revenge on her boss. The poor girl was working like Cinderella, and she only wanted to sleep while cuddling Grim.

Yuu made her way toward the train station and mindlessly went to her stop. Yuu could not hold back her yawn as the subway appeared. She tiredly followed behind the crowd into the train, letting her feet guide her inside. It was partially full, and luckily, only a few people entered with her. Her eyes landed on the spot near the door, perfect for her to sit and decompress. 

Yuu only took two steps towards the seat when suddenly, a man with slicked back light green hair, yellow-green eyes, and the strangest green and black outfit she had seen sat down in HER seat. Now slightly awake but more annoyed, Yuu marched toward him. 

"Excuse me, sir. That is my seat."

The man looked her up and down at her appearance, and his lips curled up in disgust like she offended him. "It is clear that I saw this seat and sat down first. Therefore, it is my seat."

Yuu huffed and wanted to say some not-so-nice words to him, but some children were around her. She chose to look down at his stupid-colored eyes with determination. "Look, mister. Don't you know the saying 'ladies first?'"

The man scoffed, "Of course I do. Do you think I was raised like a barbarian?" He said and eyed the plastic bag in her hands. "Unlike some people. Besides, I must be in top shape after spending all day protecting my Master."

Yuu stared at him like he was a crazy person. "You- jjsndgondvisjdf" She could not form words and chose to say sounds instead. One parent covered her child's ears. 

"Do you not know who I am?"

Yuu stopped her rambling and looked at him. "I don't know and I don't care. If you don't move, then I have no choice."

The man's eyebrows furrowed, "What are you? HEY!" He yelled, causing some people nearby to silence him. Meanwhile, the girl on his lap made herself comfortable. "What are you doing?"

"Sitting," She said like it was obvious. She turned her head to look into his eyes; a frown etched on her face. "Look, I had a tiring day today too, but I need to sit down after a long day at work."

The man blushed at the close proximity and looked away. His face was slightly red, and a pang of guilt filled his chest. "I'm sorry for being rude to you. I was unaware."

Yuu waved him off, "It's alright. You didn't know." She suddenly yawned and rested her head against his chest. She could feel how fast his heartbeat was going but was too exhausted to ask why. She felt like she was covered in a blanket. "You can just chill until it’s your stop. I'll get up when it is my stop."

The man looked at her curiously, "Where is your stop?"

Yuu yawned again. Her eyes felt heavy. "Ramshackle Street," she replied, her eyes getting starting to close. "You are so warm and comfortable," she said absentmindedly, wrapping her arms around his torso. 

"Hey! What are you?" Sebek stopped talking and stared at Yuu's sleeping face. He moved his arm to shake her awake but stopped. He could see how exhausted she was by looking at the eye bags under her eyes and how she managed to sleep so quickly. It reminded him of Silver, but slower by two seconds.

Speaking of, Sebek's suddenly rang, and his friend's name was on the caller ID. 

"Hello?"

"Ah! Sebek! There you are! We were looking for you. Where are you right now?" His other Master and Silver's adoptive father, Lilia's voice, replied. "My phone died, so I must use Silver's khee hee."

"Father, that's because you misplaced your charger." Silver's voice called out. 

Lilia laughed. “Silly me!”

Sebek rolled his eyes, “Is the Young Master safe?” 

Lilia huffed. “Malleus is next to me, eating some ice cream. You know how he is, but we have a more important matter to discuss. Where are you now? The city must be so big for you to accidentally wander off."

Sebek sighed. He should have been more diligent and kept sight of Malleus (the tallest person he knew) or Lilia, but he didn’t. And now he was stuck on a train with a random girl sleeping on his lap. 

It was like the girl knew he was thinking about her because she mumbled something about 'that damn Crowley' and was loud enough to be heard by Lilia.

"What was that?"

Sebek scrambled to say something, "I apologize, Master Lilia! I am taking a train that will stop in the Diasomnia area, but I might be delayed. You see, there is this girl-"

"A GIRL?!?" Lilia exclaimed, "Why didn't you say that earlier? Is she your girlfriend? Did you meet online and finally get to meet in person? Am I finally getting grandchildren???"

Sebek could tell that Silver was rolling his eyes at the last part. "No, Master Lilia. She was exhausted from her work and ran into me on the subway. She is taking a nap right now."

"Oh, crumbs," Lilia sighed dramatically. "I thought I would finally experience what it is like being a grandpa. You know I am not getting any younger."

"We know." Silver and Sebek said at the same time. 

"Well, make sure that the girl gets home safely, Sebek. Do you know where her stop is?"

"Ramshackle Street."

"Perfect!" Lilia exclaimed. "It is actually nearby Diasomnia, so we can meet you there. Malleus has always wanted to explore it anyways. It is known for its historic mansions, you know. Make sure to send your location or call Silver so we can find you."

Sebek nodded and adjusted Yuu by securely wrapping an arm around her so she did not fall off his lap. "Understood. It should be one of the upcoming stops, so I should be there soon."

"Good. See you soon, Sebek!" Lilia said and hung up. Sebek pocketed his phone and looked down at the sleeping Yuu. She looked peaceful, and she was breathing quietly. However, she did look cold, and her thin long sleeve did not look like it was enough. Sebek took off his coat, leaving him in his white shirt and tie (it surprised him just how he did it, given the complex design), and wrapped it around Yuu's body. He wrapped his arms protectively around her again and sighed. 

"Next stop is Ramshackle Station. Stand clear of the closed doors, please," the intercom's voice called out. 

Sebek gently shook Yuu's shoulder. "Hey, you need to wake up. Your stop is coming up."

Yuu slowly opened her eyes and looked around her surroundings. "Huh?" Her eyes landed on Sebek's face. "Oh, right. I took a nap on you. Let me get out of your way." She moved to stand up but was stopped by Sebek holding onto her hand. 

"You have a few minutes until the train stops. You can stay until then..." His voice trailed off. 

Yuu chuckled, her laugh sounding like music to Sebek. "Where are my manners? I'm Yuu." she smiled, causing Sebek's heart to skip a beat. 

"I'm Sebek Zigvolt." Yuu's smile grew even wider as she clung to Sebek's coat. Realizing the unfamiliar fabric, she looked down in shock.

"Is this yours? Here, let me return it-" She began to take it off only to stop when Sebek shook his head. 

"Keep it. Besides, you can wear it even longer if you allow me to walk you home."

Sebek expected her to say yes, not jump on him, and wrap her arms around his neck. "Yes! Thank you, Sebek!" She grinned. Maybe her day was finally getting better after all.

Bonus: Sometime during the walk back to Yuu's house. 

"You know, this fabric seems pretty fancy. Are you a bodyguard or something?" Yuu asked while rubbing Sebek’s coat between her fingers. 

Sebek nodded and smiled proudly. "Yes, I am. In fact, you might meet my masters when I drop you off."

Yuu's eyes widen. "Really? They must be important people for you to call them that."

"Of course! It is none other than the great Malleus Draconia! He is so great and powerful-"

Yuu sweatdropped as Sebek went on a rant about Malleus when all she wanted to do was to go home. 

Disclaimer: I do not own Twisted Wonderland and its characters. Those belong to Aniplex, Walt Disney Japan, and Yana Toboso.

©: This story belongs to bluesylveon2 2020-23. DO NOT modify, republish, or plagiarize my work.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek x reader #sebek x yuu #sebek zigvolt #thanks for the ask! #bluesylveon 500 follower event

[spearmxnt-and-ice]

Manga Recommendations

In Clothes Called Fat -Moyoco Anno

A young office worker, harassed by her coworkers for her weight, turns to purging to lose 30 kg. Realistic depiction of the downward spiral of EDs. Adult themes. 10/10

Fasting - Kazuo Umezu & Hisashi Eguchi

After being rejected for being overweight, a schoolgirl fasts to impress the boy who turned her down. Short horror manga with a twist ending. 7/10

My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness - Kabi Nagata

A memoir about the struggles of a girl, covering several topics, such as SH, EDs, and self-acceptance. Not entirely about EDs, but still a good read. Adult themes. 8/10

Hiru To Yoru No Oishii Jikan - Yuu Morikawa

An aspiring chef in high school moves in with a novelist who appears to eat nothing at all. As their relationship builds, the novelist slowly opens up about her eating problems and where they came from. Not exactly about EDs, but still contains disordered behaviors. 6/10

#not pr0 4n4 #e 🌧 #not pr0 just for myself #e🌧 #tw 🦋 #4n4 thoughts #tw 4n4 #tw ed in the tags #tw self destruction #tw ana thoughts

[dawnhero]

Welcome to this Twisted Wonderland Chapter 1 

Summary- Yuu is a orphan doing what ever she can to keep a ruff over her head and food on her plate. One night she almost gets run over by a carriage and ends up getting kidnapped by a crazy man in a crow mask.

Yuu opened the door to her apartment. She took her shoes off and dragged herself over to her bed. Today's shift at the diner had left her more exhausted than usual. The place had been packed all day, and their being understaffed didn't help. 

Yuu gave a long sigh, "I need to get ready for my shift at the store." During the day, Yuu worked as a server at a diner, then every other day, from nine to one in the morning, she worked at a convenience store. 

Yuu slowly got off the bed and went to the kitchen, opening the cupboard, "Ok, so for tonight we have water and ramen or ramen and water." Yuu grabbed one of the ramen cups and put it in the microwave after filling it with water. "It's almost payday," Yuu said to herself as she ate. 

After dinner, Yuu took a long shower, letting the hot water soothe her aching muscles. Once she finished, Yuu hopped out of the shower and changed into a new set of clothes. As her hair dryed, Yuu couldn't help but stare at her newly cut ends in disappointment.

 Earlier today, a family had come in for lunch. While Yuu served them, their five-year-old son had taken his gum out of his mouth and put it in Yuu's hair. The parents had apologized profusely after the couple left. Some of Yuu's coworkers tried to get the gum out, but it ended up being too tangled, so they had to cut it. 

Yuu’s hair was cut to just above her shoulders, with some of the ends were longer than the others. Yuu couldn't afford to go to a salon so she’d have to leave her hair as is until she could save up enough money.

Before leaving for work, Yuu grabbed a can of tuna for the stray cat that liked to hang around the back of the convenience store. 

The night was dark. The clouds covered the moon, leaving the street lamps as the only light source. Yuu made the late trip to her second job almost daily, so the dark empty streets didn't scare her. 

After making it to the convenience store, Yuu went to the backroom to change into her uniform. "Night, Yuu, stay safe!" Yuu's coworker said as he waved goodbye to her, and went home.

The night shift was pretty easy. A good amount of people came, mostly middle-aged adults grabbing frozen food for dinner. At around 10, the store became dead silent. Yuu went to the backroom to get the cleaning supplies. Most nights, only a few people came into the store. Getting everything ready for closing done now would let Yuu go home earlier, and she'd have some time to sleep.

Opening the back door, Yuu carried out the trash bags and boxes and threw them in the dumpster. "Meow~" a little black kitten with a white spot on its eye came out from behind the dumpster, "Hey there, little guy!" The little kitten had been hanging around the back of the store for the past few weeks, in which Yuu had been feeding him and giving him water whenever she could. The cat walked over to Yuu and rubbed itself against her leg, letting out little purrs. Yuu took out the can of tuna from her pocket and opened it. The kitten immediately stopped at the smell of his favorite food. "Meow~ Meow~" the kitten hopped onto its hind legs, using his front paws to reach up for the food. 

"Haha, okey, okey, I'll give it to you. Just let me set it down. The moment the can was on the floor, the little kitten dug into it like there was no tomorrow.

Yuu knelt. She smiled while watching the kitten, "I wish I could take you home with me, but my apartment doesn't allow pets, and I can't afford to have one either."

The kitten suddenly looked up, his ears pushed back, and his eyes slit. Before Yuu could wonder what was wrong, the kitten ran off. "Wonder what scared him off?" 

"NEIGH!" Yuu quickly turned around, a large black horse-driven carriage hurtling towards her. Yuu was barely able to move out of the way. She could feel her heart pound against her chest. A vein popped on her forehead. She'd almost been run over. "Hey! What the hell?! You almost killed me! Also, what is this, the 1800s?! Why are you driving a horse-drawn carriage in the middle of the city?!" 

The carriage door opened, and a man in the strangest outfit came out. "Is he cosplaying or something?" Yuu thought as she got up and brushed the dirt off her. 

"Ah! At last! You've given me quite the trouble! You weren't at your apartment when I went there –a shabby old thing. I must say– so I've had to run all along the city to find you."

Yuu was disturbed that this stranger knew where she lived, "I-is that so? I'm so sorry you had to do that." Yuu backed away.

"No need to apologize, my dear, for I am gracious!" The man in the raven mask moved towards Yuu. He put his hand on her back and motioned her towards the carriage. "Now come along. We don't have much time to waste." 

"W-wait!" Yuu sidestepped away from the man, "I uh, my things are still inside the store…." 

'I have to get inside.' Yuu thought 

"... so just let me get them…."

'Then I'll call the police to take care of this creep.'

"... and then we can be on our way."

Yuu made a run for the door. Before she could turn the knob, she was lifted into the air. "Wha-?!" 

"Now, now, none of that. Everything has already been prepared for you." Some invisible force pulled Yuu back to the stranger. Yuu tried to get away, but something kept her in place, floating in front of the man. "Let me go!"

"I can't do that as I told you-" the man couldn't finish what he was saying before Yuu gave him a swing to the face. The masked stranger stumbled back, holding his face. The man groaned in pain, "Feisty thing, aren't you?" The man straightened his mask, "At this rate, we'll be late for the ceremony."

The man put his finger on her forehead, and Yuu's eyes closed as she succumbed to sleep.  The man snapped his fingers, and Yuu's work uniform was replaced with long black and purple hooded robes with gold embroidery. The man snapped his fingers again, and a large black casket came out. The casket's lid came off. The man placed Yuu inside. "For them. For you. For all of us. We are all running out of time." the man said as the lid was placed back on the casket.

#twisted wonderland #oc #fem yuu #crowley is an ass #Crowley is sus #don’t forget to like and comment

[quirkless-wonder]

@cosmicheronebula​ from this: [ask]

Not once has an accident ever happened to Yuu during work hours, both back home and here in this universe. Unfortunately, though, that track record finally came to an end. Apparently, while working at maid cafe she’s never told anyone about, one customer had gotten too flustered while having Yuu as their waitress. The result ended up having them accidentally use their Quirk on her, and because the only deactivation it has is a time limit, she’s no choice but to end her shift early and go home.

It wouldn’t have been a problem if the Quirk wasn’t something that made her as tiny as a sharpie pen’s cap, but alas, luck was not on her side, nor did it stop there. Going home meant calling for help, but nobody knew that she secretly works here at a maid cafe of all place. Not only that, but she can barely even use her dingy, flip phone… She had no choice but to let her coworker call up someone on her phone.

Which was Yamikumo. He’s going to find out about this secret job. And find a shrunken Yuu in a maid outfit. In a maid cafe.

She wanted to die.

The chime of bells filled the air as the front door of the maid cafe swung open. Yamikumo still didn’t really understand why he’d been called there.

“Hello?” he called. “Someone called-”

“Welcome master!” he was cut off by a bouncy girl with pastel pink hair, dressed in the standard frilly attire of a run of the mill maid cafe. “May I have the pleasure of serving you?”

....This was... something.

“Uh, n-no, that’s okay.” Yamikumo cleared his throat. “I, ah, got a call that my friend was here? The person on the other end said that she was in an accident and needed someone to pick her up?”

“Oh!” Pinkie’s customer service smile slipped. She gestured for him to follow and then turned and started walking through the restaurant. “Yeah, she’s back here. Some jerk discharged their quirk and she got hit, so we let her hide out in the cafe. Her, uh, normal clothes were dirtied so we lent her something for the time being.”

It took Yamikumo exactly 0.000000000002 seconds to put together what that meant.

Uraraka.

In a maid outfit.

...Huh.

#threads #cosmicheronebula #The Teeniest Meido #Yuu's coworker is covering for her

[blastoisemonster]

Marmalade Boy

Before talking about today's spinoff, I'd like to take a step back for better context and briefly describe the interesting relationship Italy has with japanese culture: the two countries, despite being so distant and having developed from very different histories, have been called similar in their habits and in many aspects of the daily life, to the point of showing mutual affection for eachother’s society and products; in our case, we’re especially talking about entertainment.

Which takes us to the slice-of-life anime genre: true animated soap operas originally maybe only targeted at an audience of female teenagers but that, once in italian territory, end up catching interest of the whole family with its intrigues and linked episodes. 1980/1990s Italy clicked perfectly with them; not only a great amount has been brought in Europe thanks to our translations, but a selected few have been taken as inspiration for completely original work based on that universe. Basically, yes, our television companies have produced anime fanfiction dramas. One striking example is Love Me Knight - Kiss Me Licia, which became something like a pre-Pokèmon nationwide phenomenon: not even Japan (which produced only one season and then called it quits) understood how or even why the average italian loved this saccarine shit so much, and still today the girl who originally sang our Kiss Me Licia opening basically owes her whole career and popularity lasting more than three decades (she's still singing anime openings and even doing concert tours) thanks to the leading acting role she played in four live action Kiss Me Licia sequel series. You've read it right, four. All met with huge success from 1986 to 1989 for a grand total of 144 episodes. Original mangaka Kaoru Tada knew nothing about this and the studio responsible for the animated adaptation of the manga, Toei Animation, had not even been contacted for the rights: truly, our entertaining industry was making fanart just as the average kid on DeviantArt likes to post his not-so-traced Goku drawings for everyone to see.

The second most remarkable big shojo love Italy had is the subject of this post, Marmalade Boy, known in Italy as "Piccoli Problemi di Cuore" (literally translated: Small Heartaches). The Mediaset adaptation team wanted to create another big Licia phenomenon but, this time, instead of producing live action spinoffs, they went and actually contacted the original author, Wataru Yoshizumi, for permission on modifying the anime's plot. Piccoli Problemi di Cuore has been one of the biggest and most coherent works of animation "cut-and-paste" the team has done during that late 90s, resulting in a completely new italian anime series of 70 episodes (out of the 76 original ones) inspired by Marmalade Boy's plot. And as expected, this became a huge hit: it started airing at the beginning of 1997 and it captivated the audience so much that after a while they had to move it to another channel and time block because people were watching it more than the news. This also allowed Italy to export their own Marmalade Boy inspired creation as a whole different anime with the international name "A Little Love Story". Piccoli Problemi di Cuore was the anime all the big sisters and more romantic girls of the class followed almost religiously at the time of its original broadcast. Of course I wasn't part of that audience at the time, but after having researched the very interesting backstory of our adaptation, I'd be more than curious to at least take a look at it. And the manga? The original 8 tankobon got translated in my country by Planet Manga several times: the first publication was split in 16 volumes, the second one had 8 issues, and then there's the "Gold" edition of 8 volumes with alternative covers. Oh, and just to be sure everyone had bought it, a fourth edition has been published as recently as 2015. Be it manga or anime, Piccoli Problemi di Cuore was always absolutely famous and great.

And then there's the Game Boy spinoff, that instead is exclusive for Japan. How come? Released by Bandai in 1995, this title had been originally conceived for the Game Boy and only three months later a Super Famicom version showed up, making it a unique strange case of an handheld exclusive coming second for home console, and not the other way around. Also, it’s a dating simulator! Personally, this is the first of this genre I see on the small screen.

Adorned with cute checkers patterns all around and predictably nice-looking sprites and background scenes, this game has the player assume the role of female protagonist Miki Koishikawa and flirt with three suitors: Yuu Matsuura (technically Miki’s main love interest in the original anime), Ginta Suou (long time Miki’s classmate and secret -even corresponded- crush, but too proud to admit it), or Kei Tsuchiya (a talented yet troubled pianist, also Miki’s coworker at Bobson’s ice cream parlor). A lot of places from the anime, such as the protagonist’s school, workplace, and house, can be visited, and there’s many more characters to interact with; all in run-of-the-mill dating sim fashion, Marmalade Boy features tons and tons and tons of dialogue and, as rewards, special cutscenes featuring Miki and the boyo of her life. I really don’t like dating sims at all, so I’m not sure if I could judge it fairly, even if I understood japanese. >.> But as far as I researched online, the general public and fans of the original source do seem to enjoy it, meaning that at least it does justice to the anime. The game seems programmed with passion as well, as it can be used along with a Super Game Boy for an exclusive border and more colorful pixelwork; it also has a password system, in case one screws up an answer and ends up with an undesired ending.

Unfortunately, no one has yet provided a translation patch neither for the Game Boy nor the SuFami version, and it’s clear that back in the day of its release, which is two years prior to Piccoli Problemi Di Cuore’s television airing, there was absolutely no interest in seeing it marketed to a western audience. Though, just imagine if an italian developing house would have taken interest into this spinoff as much as the television companies did with the cartoon! We’d have an italian translated Marmalade Boy’s videogame re-adapted to follow our own version of the story. An exorbitant cost for surely meager earnings, yet unmatched peculiarity... and probably, pride!

#Photography

[howardlinkedin]

Debriefing (And Other Bad Jokes) Part 5

Part 4 here: X Summary: Link.exe is broken while the author once again enjoys making Lvellie look the fool. Things are a mite serious, featuring: Cross Marian with phone games.

“Kanda”

The other grunted. There was a sudden weight on his bare back, much to his frustration.

His very tired frustration. It was near one in the morning.

“Get off my back.” He tried to growl out and sound generally menacing, but due to the pillow under his face, Kanda only could garble out a very muffled “GETUFFMUBISH.”

Allen kissed his partner's neck, which soothed the other exactly half an ounce. “But I like your back. It’s a very good, strong back.”

Managing to lift is head an inch over the pillow so he could speak clearly, Kanda huffed. “What do you want? We have work in four hours.”

“Or, you could be like me and arrive two hours late.”

“Yes, but then I’d be you.”

Allen hummed and nosed Kanda’s mess of hair. “Good point. I do like you significantly more than myself.”

The bed shifted, and Allen found himself flipped over and under the other. The room become quite, only because the white haired officer had his mouth covered in a very heavy, languid kiss. All too soon it was over, and Kanda trapped him with his arms (and Allen also loved those arms, yes he did) and reburied his head into the pillow. “Shut the hell up and go to bed.”

Allen pouted, but let himself be trapped. “I’m going to tell everyone tomorrow that you like to be the little spoon.”

Kanda only made the accusation a fact by rolling into the other’s chest, tucking himself under Allen neck. He also shoved his hand over the pouting face. “I said sleep.”

---

At exactly five in the morning, Officer Yuu Kanda, with bags under his eyes and a scowl longer than usual, literally slammed himself down in his chair.

Said chair was catty-corner to Detective Inspector Howard Link, who also sported, if not deeper, shadows below his eyes.

The air practically crackled with sharp electricity the moment they made eye contact. It was ominous, foreboding, and anyone with enough self preservation would know not to get close.

Unless your name is Lenalee Lee, who has no fear over her fellow man, and is actually quite good at mitigating her coworkers nonsense.

“Both of you quit it!” By mitigating, this meant she would tap a clipboard over both of their heads and Frown with Disappointment at them. It wasn’t a hard tap intended to hurt, but a very heavy and pressing tap all the same.

Link felt like every divine presence in the universe just judged and found him wanting.

The female officer huffed at them, demanding. “Why are you both so grouchy this morning?”

Both men grunted, then glared at the other.

“Aww, Yuu, is shorty having insomnia again?” Lavi, who took that moment to plop and spin in his cubicle seat, pestered. Lenalee began to look worried for her white haired friend. “Is Allen alright Kanda? I heard about that homicide a few days ago.”

Kanda shoved his face into his fist and irately booted up his computer to work. “He’s fine. You know how he is, bullshit’s just gotten up in his worried head again.”

The tall red head in the room snapped his fingers and pointed at Link’s face. “Which is part your fault.” The detective, who’s frame was beginning to morph into that of a solid board the longer the current conversation continued, forced himself to look only up at the ceiling. “I am simply doing my job Bookman, which is what you too should be focusing on.” “Why is it Link’s fault?” Lenalee quired, her dark eyes boring into the side of the blonde’s face.

“He’s been investigating Allen.” The Profiler answered, all grins.

Link swore every emotion in the female officer’s face shut down and the silence that followed filled him with dread. One side of him, an overly happy Bookman who did not actually exude an aura of joy, and the other a very dark looking Kanda with the most razor sharp smile ever witnessed to mankind.

“Get fucked.” The dark haired officer mouthed.

---

“BROTHER!”

Commissioner Komui Lee’s door was surreptitiously flung open and cracked against the opposite wall.

It quite literally cracked.

Lenalee, light of his life, amazing officer of the Order, and darling baby sister dragged in a very disgruntled and frazzled Detective Inspector by his shirt collar.

She looked down right lethal, and Komui couldn’t be more proud.

“Why is Allen being investigated! What crime did he commit?” With each punctuation, Link was shaken vigorously.

With a sigh, Commissioner Lee gave Link a very tired look. “Really?”

Link sniffed indignantly. “I’ve already informed my superior of this compromise. He will contact you shortly to discuss how to proceed.”

At seeing how her brother knew exactly why Link was in their Order, Lenalee loomed over him, demanding answers. “Brother! What has Allen done!”

“Now Lenalee, it’s a difficult matter and-”

The sister set herself directly in front of the Commissioner Table and stared her brother (and boss, but at the moment it was neither here nor there, and Link made a mental note to explain to his superior how Lee most obviously plays favorites) down, refusing to be moved.

“Explain it to me.”

---

Let it be known to all that Lenalee Lee, for all her dainty appearance, was one of the most forceful and ruthless Officers in the Black Order.

She was also the resident Mother Bear to all who wore their uniform.

Unfortunately for Howard Link, he never got his uniform in the Order, and thus was not unanimously on the Approved List.

Also, apparently making Allen Walker’s life difficult sets someone high on Lenalee’s Shit List, and Link was doomed to never have his name erased by this point.

---

A loud chortol in the room interrupted the intense Lee Interrogation Session, and all who occupied it turned to stare at the couch near the right of the room.

Sitting like he owned the room, a mess of red hair and the cockiest facial expression Link had ever had the dismay to witness, was General Cross Marian.

“So this is the punk HQ sent to bother my pain in the ass child.” Cross chewed on the end of a lit cigarette, much to Komui’s ever disdain. “Please don’t smoke in my office General.”  

Cross only huffed smoke in the Commissioner’s direction.

Kanda, who was being a creepy shadow this entire drama, took a picture of the room and sent it to Allen.

That will get the beansprout here fast enough.

---

Needless to say, Komui’s office became a little more scrapped up than it actually never was, and he may need to get a new couch.

Allen, who had hijacked Kanda’s sword and stabbed it millimeters from the General’s arm through the couch, seethed.

The General looked unphased by this display of violence and took another drag of his nicotine. “Hello brat, miss me?” “About as much as I miss the flu. Where have you been!”

“So you did miss me.” The sound Walker made could only be described as verbal keyboard smashing. Kanda took his sword back and tossed his partner over his shoulder and left the room entirely.

“We’ll have a meeting in ten Kanda!” Their boss called out.

The officer grunted and kicked the door closed. It cracked more.  

Lenalee followed suit, dragging the ever growing irritated detective behind her. The door slammed and cracked some more.

Cross flicked the now dry cigarette in Komui’s direction. “That went well.”

“Oh shut up.”

---

It was Lavi’s turn to bring snacks to the lounge, which meant that Allen was very aggressively eating a bowl of trail mix and popcorn. Though, let it not be said that even when in a terrible mood, Allen Walker wasn’t kind, which was punctuated when he shared very generously with Aleister Crowley, another Officer and friend.

The meeting had called everyone in the Order to be present, thus the largest meeting room was used.

No one asked the reason for the usually calm and cheerful officer’s negative mood. What with a very obvious Cross Marian in the room - who many have never even met during their time at the Order, but only heard rumor of.

Miranda, sweetheart she was, offered Allen some candy. Suddenly the officer was all a-sparkle. “Yes please!”

At the head of the table, a throat cleared and all attention was drawn to it. Except Cross, who just took out his phone and began to play Candy Crush.

Standing beside the leader of the meeting, Howard Link glared at the General’s blatant act of insubordination.

---

Director Malcolm C. Lvellie, who essentially was in charge of overseeing all of the police stations in the Order, sat the table head. On one side, Link stood ramrod straight at attention, on other, Komui stood and looked like he’d rather be taking a nap under his desk than be in the room at this very moment.

Unlike Link, Komui knew his people. And he knew what kind of sordid drama was about to unfold.

God help his soul.

Sitting nearest the Commissioner was his sister, who’s look of contempt only intensified upon Lvellie’s arrival.

---

It was no mystery that Lenalee Lee also hated the Director with the intensity of one thousand suns, and she made it known in every way possible whenever the man paid their station a visit.

The rumor mill says that the man’s very image sends the female officer into a frenzy of baleful words.

When asked why, the only response given is a sharpe glare and, “What is there to even LIKE about him?”

Needless to say, not many actually try and venture for that piece of information.

---

“Greetings all,” The Director began, as though this were a social event. “I have asked Commissioner Lee to hold this meeting today to discuss some very important developments within our district.”

Holding out his hand to the detective at his side, Lvellie took the offered stack of files from Link.

“Allen Walker.” He addressed, flipping through the papers.

“Some months ago, it was you who apprehended the Noah, Tykki Mikk.”

Allen raised his eyebrows as if to say ‘yeah, and?’ But for the sake of being polite, he responds with a simple, “Yes.”  

“If I remember the report correctly, you were the one who was able to infiltrate and dismantle the entire compound in which Mikk was hiding away in. What was it called again?”

“The Ark.” Allen answered, curt.

---

The arrest of Tykki Mikk was a messy and dangerous one. For the entire time of Walker’s employment until his apprehension, the Noah was fixated on the officer.

It escalated when the criminal began leaving love letters on the doorstep of the Order, and bloody, gruesome gifts.

Then, one day, Lenalee was abducted in broad daylight to lure Allen out. It affected the Order fiercely, causing many who cared about their own to act together as the team no one knew they could be.

Lenalee was alive (a bruised, broken and exhausted mess, but alive), and Allen dragged a restrained Mikk away to the Maximum Security Penitentiary.

That was the short version anyway.

No one spoke of how Kanda laid waste to any physical obstacle in their way. No one asked why Lavi refused to smile for days.

No one mentioned how broken Lenalee’s legs had become.

No one went into detail how Miranda and her staff had cried over all of them at the damage done to their bodies.

And most of all, no one spoke of what Allen Walker had revealed that night.

---

“Yes, the Ark. This is also what you had been investigating, wasn’t it General Marian?” The Director glanced at Cross who swiped at his phone screen, uninterested. “Yes, yes, we all know this. I went undercover, managed to download a bunch of files, blah blah.”

“And it just so happened that you finished that assignment the very same night your subordinate managed to arrive and do your job for you.”

Allen left eye twitched at being associated as Cross’ underling.

“Yeah sure, let’s go with that.”  The General admissioned.

Commissioner Lee rolled his eyes and groaned. “Cross please.”

---

“My detective, Inspector Link, has been assigned to monitor and investigate Officer Walker due to the suspicious circumstances centering him during the Mikk Assignment.” Lvellie revealed, point blank.

“For years, even as someone as knowledgeable as Cross, the Order has been trying to take down even an inch of the Noah, and suddenly in one night, one of own was able to do just that. Now, many of you may be thinking that this should be a glorious feat, one awarded with fanfare and even a promotion.”

“I’d like a raise to be honest.” Quipped Walker, because he was a mouthy little shit in any circumstance. “Sir.” He tagged on at the end, to keep his facade of a polite gentleman.

Lavi snorted and Lenalee looked at him half amused, and half stressed.

Kanda...well Kanda was doing a very good impression of a gargoyle with how well he was silently ignoring everyone and everything at the moment.

Ignoring the white haired officer, the Director bulldozed on, obviously on an accusation high.

“Noah are notorious for their complicated security systems and hiding their locations. Yet the moment Miss Lee was taken, you knew exactly where to head. There was no warning or hint from Mikk as to where to find them. But you knew.

The question is Officer Walker, how did you know? And what did you do exactly to crash the Noah’s Ark system so easily?”

---

Lvellie may think he was fooling everyone in the room that he didn’t know what the Ark System was, but he wasn’t.

The Ark was known as the Noah’s mainframe of high end and custom security. It was where they housed their lead members of the Family, as well as any and all major finances. For years the Order has had been trying to crack into it, much less find a clue as to where it was located, but to no avail.

It was indeed suspicious that Walker was able to do it all so easily. (If one were to call the confrontation at the Ark “easy.”

It was a bloody mess, but Walker still knew where and when to step and how exactly to act to completely crash it all down.)

---

At the silent accusation of his character, Allen just looked at the director, unimpressed, and shoved a handful of corn kernels into his mouth. They crunched loudly and obnoxiously.

Kanda broke his statue like state so he could give his partner a withering stare, because that was just plain disgusting.

Aleister raised his hand, timidly. “Um, sir? Are you saying that Allen has an affiliation with the Noah?”

More crunching.

“That is exactly what I am saying Officer Crowley. If not, he may be a direct member!”

Miranda coughed into her hand, Lavi suddenly looked bored, and Cross let out a loud exclamation at reaching a new level of Candy Crush.

“Just, excuse me again sir.” Aleister interjected. “I thought this was all common knowledge.”

The crunch of the next particular handful of kernels was punctuatingly loud just then.

Director Lvellie became whiter than a sheet while Detective Link choked on his spit.

---

While the Order’s staff milled out of the room, Komui slid a document under his boss’ gobsmacked nose. “This is the Order of Immunity from Commander Hevlaska on the situation, Director.”

---

“She also states that Detective Inspector Link is to stay on the Order’s staff, since we still really do need a detective.”

---

Considering the Detective had originally come to the Order to investigate and ultimately catch Walker red-handed (no pun intended), to have it taken out right from under his feet was quite dizzying.

And mortifying.

Link felt very out of sorts at having, what many would call, his ‘thunder’ stolen.

In a daze, he opened the Document Room, to put all his hard researched files away once again, only to forcefully pause mid-step in the doorway.

Against three filing cases, a very half dressed Allen Walker was having his neck attacked by a shirtless Yuu Kanda.

“Oh.” Allen breathed, having noticed the detective, eyes bright. “Hello Detective, want to join us?”

Kanda stopped his ministrations to whip his head around, long dark hair fanning the air and then his lean, bare back to stare heavily and warningly at the blonde.

Link slammed the door closed, because okay naughty side of his brain, it was time to calm down now.

At his feet, Timcampy trotted up and sat down by the door, a squeak toy in his little doggy mouth.

Detective Inspector Howard Link worried for his sanity.

#ashlee writes #dgm fanfiction #Komui is So Done #Cross is here everyone cheer #this chapter was just to shove some plot into the air and out of the way #Allen is Hangry in this one #IS THAT SOME ACTUAL CUTE SHIT WITH THESE DODOS? MMMMMM YES IT IS #link is like sos pls save me nothing makes sense #Im going to go into more detail about wtf happened in this universes Ark scene next chapter #im excited bc everyone kicks ass #allen walker #yuu kanda #howard link #cross marian #lenalee lee #lenalee wants to destroy but she has to wait #yullen #also sorry no timothy that part of the story will also be covered next chapter

[pumpkins-s]

Spilling Like An Overflowing Sink

Read on AO3 Here

Read the Other Chapters on Tumblr Here

Lance Alexander Rafael McClain is born in the middle of a summer storm, thunder cracking and rain slamming onto the roof of an old ramshackle house that had seen more than its fair share of children.

The miracle baby, that’s what the family had called Lance. The unexpected son to a mother of five daughters.

(In which family is always complicated, Lance’s life hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows, and he and Keith are really emotionally constipated for each other.)

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Relationships: Keith/Lance, significant platonic Lance & Hunk

Characters: Lance, Lance’s family, Hunk, Keith, Shiro, Pidge, Allura, Coran

Chapter 8: Longings

(( Author’s Note:

(kicks down door) Greetings, I'm back.

Apologies for being away from this fic so long. It's been a weird few months for me with a lot of personal stuff going on (If you follow me on social media I'm sure you witnessed the fallout of my breakup with my near year-long partner, for one), and that in addition to the Large amount of discourse in the fandom that sprung up after season 2, particularly surrounding Lance content, made me too nervous to update for a long time.

It took a while, but I eventually remembered that I started this fic for me, because it makes me happy, and letting the pressures of how long an update was or worrying over people's demands for when Keith would arrive was only hurting me, and my ability to write the fic.

So new rule. I'm doing this at my pace, Keith will get here when he gets here. End of story.

Now, before we begin, a couple things:

I'm incredibly honored and delighted to present to you all the finished version of Peachlance's fanart for this fic, which if you remember I linked the WIP sketch to a couple chapters back. You can check out their gorgeous art of Lance & Hunk here on tumblr, or here on twitter.

Also! I'm still not an artist in the slightest, but for those of y'all desiring them, here's some rough references for Mavis and Ritzie & Yuu I did a few months ago.

That's it. Have fun, bye. ))

Mavis’s apartment is a tiny thing on the thirteenth floor of a crumbling old residential building wedged between two larger, shinier new buildings, the few small windows in her apartment providing absolutely stunning views of her fire escape and the wall of the building outside.

It’s tiny, jam-packed, and bordering on claustrophobic, with its singular bedroom, living room, kitchenette, and bathroom all crammed together into one small unit. As a whole, it’s considerably smaller than Lance’s home, even if he is used to sharing that space with a hoard of other people, and arguably he’s pretty sure Mavis’s bedroom is actually slightly smaller than his and Hunk’s dorm room at Greenwood, which is saying something, given that’s not exactly a large space either.

Lance loves it instantly.

The first time he sees the apartment, an exhaustingly long thirty minute subway ride involving three train changes away from the airport, Mavis kicks the door open with otherwise little fanfare, dumping Lance’s suitcase by the door and straightening up.

“Welcome to city living! Mi casa es tu casa.”

Lance snorts, eyes roaming over the mess of dirty dishes in the sink, the unfolded pile of laundry on the coffee table, the assortment of books and music sheets on the kitchen counter. “Tu casa es un desastre.”

“Hush.” Mavis says, pointing a finger at him. “You try being an adult capable of clean, organized living these days. It’s hard.”

“You’re twenty-five.” Lance deadpans, and Mavis sniffs, flipping her hair and crossing her arms, pouting.

“Don’t remind me. I already feel old.” She claps her hands, grabbing Lance’s bag again and swinging it over her shoulder easily as if it isn’t heavily packed with everything Lance needs to survive here for three and a half weeks. “C’mon, let’s get you settled. You’re lucky I bought a bed that has one of those second mattress pullout trundle things in case one of my brothers or Evie ever came to stay or something.”

“Goodie.” Lance mutters, and Mavis smirks back at him, nudging the bedroom door open just as her phone goes off. Pulling it out of her pocket, she glances at the number and winces. “Work. I need to take this.” Swinging Lance’s bag off her shoulder, she turns and bodily chucks it at the trundle bed, sending it flying onto it with a loud crash that leaves Lance wincing and pitying his cousin’s neighbors. “Go ahead and get settled while I’m on the phone, if you want. There’s some toiletries and spare clothes I picked up just in case, since I wasn’t sure if you packed enough given I do the laundry like… once a month.”

“Gross.” Mavis snorts, and nudges him into the room, pulling the door shut behind her as she turns back to the living room, answering her call with a muffled, yet distinctly blunt “What.”, obviously none-to-pleased with whomever is calling her on her day off.

Sighing, Lance shuffles his way over to the trundle bed, nudging his suitcase over to a corner as best he can and then flopping down, savoring being able to stretch out properly after hours of being crammed on first a plane and then the subway. He may be smaller than an adult, or even, admittedly, small for his age, but that doesn’t mean he appreciates being shoved into tight spaces for extended periods of time any more than the next person.

Rubbing at his eyes, he sits up and turns to the small pile of clothes and what looks like a spare toothbrush and face-wash, among other things, resting on the pillow. He moves the toiletries without much thought, idly inspecting the label on the face-wash and happily noting it’s a brand he’s used before, but when he turns to the clothes he hesitates, looking at the shirt resting on top properly for the first time and noting a… small problem.

It’s pink.

A bright, searing pink, small flowers patterned along the collar and lace for sleeves.

Hands shaking, he grabs the fabric and carefully lifts it up, eyes roaming over the distinctly feminine cut and color of the shirt with a kind of displaced horror, offset by the hesitant want he feels just from looking.

The shirt is exactly the kind of thing he would have picked out, a year and a lifetime ago. On instinct, he holds it to his nose, and it smells… not like what he remembers when he thinks of clothing like this, of Loraine’s shampoo and his mother’s laundry detergent, but it does smell somewhat like Mavis, like the subtle scent of her leather jacket and her apartment, and that is… not right, but not wrong either.

God though, that doesn’t take the edge off the wanting, even noting these minute differences between his memories of the life he craves and his reality. If anything, knowing it’s real, here and presented in this space where he is relatively free of the consequences of such choices, makes the whole thing worse.

Almost idly, hands gripping light fabric, he thinks of a story his Aunt Rosa had told him once as a child, an old Greek myth from one of her well-worn books about a king who was punished for his transgressions in the afterlife by being placed on an island surrounded by water and with fruit trees growing on it, but could not eat or drink, no matter how much he hungered or thirsted, for eternity.

That is what this is like, he thinks. It’s placing cursed salvation in front of a starving person and watching them crawl desperately towards it.

He wants so badly, and yet to have it is akin to taking fruit from the poisoned tree.

Jerking slightly, Lance drops the shirt with shaking hands, as if it might scald him. From the kitchen, Mavis’s voice, raising in volume as she argues with whoever is on the other end of the line, drifts through, pulling him back to reality.

Mavis… right.

Assumedly, this is her doing, then.

Hesitantly, he turns to the remaining pile of clothing, eyes falling to a now more than obvious assortment of bright patterns and cheerful designs, a veritable ball of doom. Reaching out, both hands grasping unsurely, he rifles through it, overly-short cut fingernails, a habit he picked up to fight the urge to paint them, catching on floral shorts and thin tights and close-shaped t-shirts splashed with color.

As a whole, he counts four shirts, two skirts, one pair of high-waist shorts, and a single pair of light pink tights.

…Oh, and a clip-on hair ribbon. Blue.

Really, it’s not that much, barely a few days selection of clothes, but at the same time, it’s everything.

He wants to cry, he wants to cheer, he wants to burn it and curl up in a ball and try to forget.

It’s the little things that destroy a person, Lance thinks, when it comes to the wanting.

Outside the room, Mavis’s voice rises to a sharp crescendo, followed by the muffled sound of something being chucked sharply against a thankfully soft object, and, judging by the following array of colorful swears directed to the air, Lance can only assume it was Mavis’s phone being thrown, hopefully onto the sofa or something where it won’t be damaged.

It’s a funny thought that preoccupies his mind for all of about two seconds, before his gaze falls to the clothing spread out before him, and he swallows nervously, calling out. “M-Mavis…?”

Despite his half-hearted effort at the tiny vocalization, the loud cursing from the kitchen trails off, and after a moment, Mavis pushes her way into the room, door slamming open and then swinging shut behind her on its own momentum. Her hair is a mess, sticking out in every direction where she’s clearly run her fingers through it, but she doesn’t look upset, just mildly pissed at best.

“Sorry, sorry, my boss is a dick. I was supposed to have tomorrow off to do fun bonding shit with you or something, but he’s now demanding I cover my lazy coworkers ass so…” She trails off, eyes falling to him for the first time and widening, taking in his own shell-shocked expression, before her gaze catches on the scattered clothing, and it closes off, becomes guarded. “Ah.”

With a kind of long-awaited resignation, she trudges over to the trundle bed, nudging Lance gently with a food to get him to move over, and then flopping down next to him, lifting an arm in clear invitation. Lance doesn’t hesitate, despite the distant knowledge that the articles of his distress were undeniably provided by the person next to him, and falls against her side, tucking his head under Mavis’s chin and listening to the thrum of her heartbeat, the erratic sound slowing out to a steady rhythm as she calms down.

It’s good. Soothing. Like how he used to lay with Loraine when he was younger, the two of them tucked up together on that cramped bed layered in old quilts and well-worn pillows.

For a moment, when he closes his eyes and feels Mavis’s blunt fingernails scratch lightly against his scalp as her fingers card gently through his hair, he can pretend he’s back there again, in his sanctuary.

But... He sighs out, opening his eyes and meeting the sight of Mavis’s whitewashed wall. He is not there, and this apartment might just be his next best chance at something like a new sanctuary.

“I’m sorry.” Mavis says after a long moment of quiet, voice low and unsure. “I forgot.”

“Why would you…?” He rasps out, words falling into uncertainty.

Mavis chuckles, a brittle, bitter sound. “Let’s call it a momentary increase in stupidity. I just…” She sighs. “I wasn’t thinking, really. Well… No, I was thinking, just not very intelligently.”

“Well, clearly.”

She laughs at that, small but genuine, and Lance manages his own wet giggle in return. She grins down at him, and then her face falls, turning away to look at the wall. “I… I listen to you on the other end of that phone every week, Lance, and I don’t even have to see you to know how much it’s killing you underneath, living like that. No matter what, you’re miserable because of it, and I suppose I just thought…” She shrugs. “No one knows you here, so there’s no consequences here, y’know? It’s completely removed from home, from your school… from everything.” Mavis smiles weakly. “It’s stupid, but I guess at the time I wanted this place to be the escape for you that I made it for me. Plus, well… I can’t help but feel a little guilty, I suppose.”

Lance shifts at that, offering a questioning noise. “What? Why?”

Mavis shifts nervously. “Lance, you hate living like this, and I was the one who talked you into Greenwood in the first place—“

“Hey, no. No.” Lance sits up quickly, glaring at Mavis. “You didn’t talk me into anything. This— Everything was my decision. You didn’t coerce me into making the choices I have or any of that shit.”

“But—“

“Nope!” He says firmly, poking his cousin’s cheek gently. “You helped me, nothing more, and for that I’m grateful, okay? I’m…” He sighs. “I’m not saying I like living like this, or that I’m alright with it, because I’m really… really not, but I need it. I need this… purpose, to keep me going, to give me something to hold onto.” Lance hesitates. “I’m honestly not sure if I’d be alive right now, if you hadn’t helped me find that. It stabilized me.”

Mavis stares at him for a long moment, and then groans, head tipping back to fall against the side of the proper bed next to the trundle, where her back rests. “Don’t go getting emotional on me now, kid. We can’t both be having a sob fest, and your bullshit earnestness makes my self-pity just look sad.”

Lance grins in spite of himself. “Karma for deciding you’re to blame for all my problems.”

“Hey!” Mavis sticks a hand into the air, pointing up at nothing imperiously. “I never said I was to blame for all your problems. Just… a few of them.” She coughs, hand falling after a moment almost bashfully. “Ok, in retrospect, that sounds… Yeah.” After a moment, she glances down at him, raising an eyebrow. “I did actually mean to return those this morning before I picked you up and get you some different stuff, I just genuinely forgot.”

He smiles softly. “I believe you. I wasn’t angry in the first place, anyways.”

It’s true, really. Whatever slight slivers of annoyance he’d felt at Mavis sticking such metaphorical poisoned fruit in front of him had quickly drained away within minutes, leaving only a kind of calm acceptance and tiny pieces of lingering grief.

Mavis loves him, as much as any of his sisters, and maybe even almost as much as Loraine had, he knows this. She would never do anything to intentionally hurt him, or pain him. She only wanted to help— Had only ever wanted to help, since that first conversation after Loraine’s funeral, when she had offered him Loraine’s final gift, and along with it the directions to a chance at redemption.

“I should have known it was a shitty idea from the beginning, really.” Mavis murmurs quietly, leaning over and snagging the single pair of tights to glare at them ruefully. “Sticking you with that kind of decision.”

Almost unconsciously, Lance reaches out, catching the dangling ends of the tights carefully and tangling them between his fingers. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just…” He swallows. “I want too much, I think. I’m afraid if I let myself have that kind of thing, I might not have the heart to give it up again.” His eyes flicker to his cousin. “And I can’t, Mavis. I can’t let those pieces of who I was back into my life. I’d rather die than jeopardize this last thing that I can do for her.”

Mavis sighs, dropping the rest of the tights into his hands. “You shouldn’t live your life trying to please what’s not coming back, Lance.”

“It’s what I want, though.” He says. “It’s the only thing I want, really, to do what she couldn’t. It’s the closest I can get to keeping a piece of her alive, and I… I need that.”

“I know…” Mavis says, closing her eyes. “God, I know.”

That night, Lance dreams of Loraine. Of the soft warmth of her hugs, of the sweet taste of summer air and of breathless laughter caught in near soundlessness on rushing air around a speeding hoverbike on old dirt roads.

There are dreams Lance has, nightmares really, that end in screaming, in the oxygen in his lungs being stolen in heaving sobs that leave him shivering and with an aching throat. Those… Those are the nights of blood and pain, the sensation of falling through air and of remembering what glassy, unseeing eyes look like, the nights when he cannot escape the day she died.

This is not one of those nights. Though, still, the bittersweet feeling of her face and her heart, loving and kind, haunting his sleep leave him with tear tracks on his face when he wakes, regardless.

Almost blindly, he rolls half out of bed, intending to walk the five steps necessary to reach Hunk’s across the room and curl up against the larger, slowly snoring warmth that is his friend, before his hand touches scratchy, industrial carpet instead of old wooden floorboards, and he remembers he is not at home, and Hunk is not here.

Sitting up, he rubs at his eyes blearily, squinting at Mavis’s distinctly unoccupied bed next to the pullout trundle, and then turns when the faint flickering of light under the doorway catches his eye. Stumbling to his feet, he carefully crosses the room and opens the door, pulling it open with the gentlest of creaks to bring the wash of yellow light from the kitchen streaming in, illuminating Mavis’s frame where she sits on a stool next to her kitchen bench, half hunched over a bowl of cereal and eyes settled on the book she has propped up against the fruit bowl. She blinks, glancing up, and when her gaze finds him her expression softens ever so slightly, almost lost in the imperceptibly neutral planes of her face.

He almost expects her to offer some quip, some cliché line that he can read in her eyes that screams you too, huh? But instead, she merely makes a halfhearted noise that falls somewhere between a snort and a sigh, and pulls out the stool next to her, patting it idly. Slowly, Lance edges out of the doorway and over to the stool, catching his toes on the well-worn wood of the ring between the legs of the seat as he looks for footing, scrambling up onto it as best he can. Legs dangling, too short to touch the ground, once he’s settled.

Mavis grabs a bowl from a stack on the bench, obviously washed but yet to be put away in a cupboard, in front of him, and then nudges the open box of cereal towards him. He accepts it wordlessly, pouring it into the bowl in rush of noise against the silence as the pieces of grain collide against the porcelain.

They’re Cheerios, he notes almost absentmindedly.

Loraine had liked Cheerios.

Fumbling, he reaches for the milk carton where it sits between the two bowls, and Mavis intercepts him quickly, picking up the carton and unscrewing the lid.

“New carton. It’s heavy.” Is all she offers, pouring the milk into his bowl. She resettles the carton once the pieces of golden brown are floating in white, presenting him with a spoon from who knows where wordlessly.

Lance takes it, scooping up a mouthful, and tries not to cry when the cool rush of milk and sweet tang of the cereal hits his tongue.

“I never liked Cheerios much growing up.” Mavis says quietly, staring down at her half-empty bowl and trailing her spoon through the mess before lifting it to her lips. “Loraine and Evie did, though, so that was all my Ma or Aunt Maria ever bought when they went to the store.”

Outside, there comes the faintest whisper of witching hour traffic along the streets, and the clinking of their spoons against the porcelain bowls is loud in the otherwise silence of the night.  

“You’re an adult,” He murmurs, “…Does it ever get better?”

Mavis sighs, propping an elbow on the bench and resting her cheek in her hand. “I’ll tell you when I figure that out myself.”

Lance nods jerkily, and that’s the end of it.

Even by that first day after Lance arrives, things are a mess, because Mavis’s schedule is a mess— And maybe her life in general is a bit of a mess, too, but Lance imagines that comes with the territory when one is somehow a part-time bartender, part-time stagehand, and freelance musician all at once.

Plus, well, it’s Mavis. She kind of specializes in functioning from afar while everything actively goes to shit, which he suspects is a trait he might slowly be inheriting via continued exposure to her mere presence.

Maybe. Maybe.

…Lance isn’t sure if he knows how to function period, really, regardless of outside problems, so maybe he’s just kidding himself with that one.

Either way, function Mavis does, so the morning after their little heart-to-heart over soggy bowls of Cheerios in the last trickling vestiges of night, she rolls out of bed to the chime of an annoyingly cheerful alarm at six AM and staggers her way into the bathroom to get ready for work, nearly tripping over Lance’s trundle as she goes, which is enough to wake him and send him scurrying into her bed to seize the warm spot she’s left behind.

She makes a face at him when she returns, poking the side of his head where it peeks out between the sheets. He hums sleepily, and she grins, a crooked, fragile thing. “’M sorry about this. I really wasn’t supposed to work today.” He offers a half-awake noise of understanding, and Mavis’s expression fades into a soft smile. “I’ll be back by dinner, I’ll bring takeout or something. You still like Thai food, right?”

“Mmmm….” Lance rumbles out, blinking the sleep from his eyes. “…Yeah.”

“Good, cool.” She straightens up, sighing out. “TV has a DVR, remote’s on the table. Don’t open the door to anyone, etcetera, etcetera.”

“I know, Mavis.” He mumbles. “I’ll be fine.”

She hesitates, dropping an uncharacteristic kiss onto his forehead, an action Lance would expect more from Marcie or Evie, and then she’s gone.

It only takes a few hours, once he’s rolled out of bed and forced himself into the living room, before the boredom sets in, and the itch, just there under his skin, becomes all the more obvious, like a crawling, wiggling thing, burying deep until it hums and scratches in his bones. It had been there since he’d woken up and gone to get dressed, uncomfortably aware of the selection of clothing Mavis had gotten for him shoved onto a shelf in the closet, just… there, right within grasp.

It’s undeniable, like a siren’s call, and television can only distract him for so long.

Almost automatically, he reaches for his phone, intending to call Hunk, his go-to backup system, before he pauses, and then drops his hand.

Hunk. Right. Part of the whole purpose of this trip was to not so subtly give Hunk a break from Lance’s… everything. He’s not going to go calling his friend after less than a day over some frigging clothing. It’ll just leave Hunk worrying about him incessantly.

He takes his phone, buries it between the couch cushions, and resurrects Mavis’s laptop from its constantly overheating, cracked screen, duct-taped death to Skype Ritzie.

“It’s just all so boring, darling.” She tells him in lighthearted monotone, bushy hair pulled back in a single ponytail on the other side of the screen, pale skin against jean shorts where she sits cross-legged and curled up in on herself. Off screen, someone calls her name, and she yells back loudly in French, before turning back to the camera with a sigh. “I love France, but it’s all just making nice with Papa’s business associates while he jets them around on cruises and listening to him arguing over the phone with Daddy about custody, again.” She rolls her eyes. “It’s like I’m a freaking commodity to be passed around.”

“Sorry.” He tells her in a whisper, and Ritzie laughs, the bright, cheerful sound he’s come to recognize and appreciate in her.

“Not like it’s your fault. I’m just looking forward to when I escape the parental affection battle and school goes back. I miss you lot, even Yuu, despite his nagging.”

“Miss you too.” He says, and even though he can’t tell her about the long-worn scars on his arms or the buzzing itch under his skin that he called to distract himself from, because she does not know, will never know, he still means it.

Will always mean it.

Even long after Ritzie hangs up the call, Lance sits there, fingernails digging into his arms where they’re crossed, and when it gets to be too much, he jumps up, forces himself into busyness by washing he dishes that lay piled high on Mavis’s counter, all the way down to their cereal bowls from the night before.

He eats a handful of dry Cheerios, pretends it’s lunch even as he ignores the sandwich sitting in the fridge, cut in triangles like he insisted on when he was little, before Mavis left home, and studiously does not cry.

It’s fine. He’s fine.

And when Mavis brings home takeout and bullies him into watching shitty old anime reruns with her, it’s almost good.

Almost… It feels like no matter what Lance does, he’s always just grasping at almost.

Two days after Lance first arrives in New York, minus the day he actually got off the plane and took his first steps into Mavis’s apartment, he reaches his breaking point.

...In a way, he’s surprised he even lasted that long.

It’s not so bad, in the morning, when Mavis doesn’t have work and drags him out of bed to walk around the neighborhood, teaches him the differences between the New York and D.C. metro systems, parades him over to the diner two blocks down and presents him cheerfully to the workers, who all know her by first name. It’s movement, noise, people, all the ingredients to the recipe for adequate distraction and entertainment. It’s nice, even with the oppressive heat of the summer sun beating down on the sidewalks, and Lance can see why his cousin treasures the home she has found here so much.

It’s in the evening, when Mavis, apologetic and reluctant, has to duck out for a short shift at the bar, that Lance finds the itch return, driving him to more frantic cleaning and fruitless pacing in an effort to forget.

He knows, really, that there’s only two options to drive away the itch— Give in, or… Well, he’s been trying to break himself of the latter habit, for the sake of Hunk’s sanity and the slowly healing marks on his arms.

On some level, Lance doesn’t know why it’s so bad this time, compared to any other. He’s been doing this for over a year now, has held himself strictly to this decision even when he’s home on the weekends and holidays, far away from Greenwood and its prying eyes, and he’s never come this tenuously close to slipping, to giving in.

He thinks, maybe, it’s the utter lack of pressures here. If he gave in at home, if he dressed and acted as he liked and found a way to lock it down every time he returned to Greenwood, his family would, in well-meaning intent, encourage him to take the clothing he loved, the things he once treasured, back with him.

They are too understanding, in a way. They’ll never be able to grasp the importance of this, of the lie he and Mavis have so delicately crafted.

But… Here? Here there’s only Mavis— Friend, cousin, coconspirator, secret-keeper. She knows. She understands why.

And so, as the hours drain away and the night creeps in, Lance finds himself falling from grace in a moment of desperate self-pity, fueled by exhaustion and resignation, and sneaking into the bathroom with the single hair bow Mavis had purchased grasped between his shaking fingers.

When he clips it on unsteadily, stepping back and squinting into the mirror, it’s all wrong, a conspicuous mark against his short hair and faded dark grey shirt. He looks more like a child playing around in his mother’s makeup drawer, metaphorically, at least, then he does like himself.

At the same time, though, even that one little piece is… Everything. The color of it, the weight of it against his skull, it’s everything to him.

“It looks nice.” Mavis’s voice rings out from the doorway, and Lance startles, turning sharply to see her reclined there, arms crossed and considering.

He hadn’t even heard her come in, he realizes. Too caught up in his elated panic over this tiny act of... something.

“It looks terrible.” He bites out, and Mavis shrugs.

“I think the color suits you.”

Lance glances back to the mirror, looking again, and for a moment he wants to ask if she really thinks so, but he shakes it off. “Doesn’t matter anyways.” He reaches to unclip it, and Mavis slides forward quickly, catching his hands in her own and staring down at them, biting her lip for a moment in an unsure, hesitant gesture.

“I’m not going to tell you what you should or should not do, Lance. But—“ She glances up ever so slightly, meeting his eyes even as she still looks down at him, the significant height difference between them never more apparent. “Nobody here can touch you. Nobody has to know.”

He blinks, pointedly ignoring the itch behind his eyes, and hesitantly looks back at his reflection, studying the splash of sky blue against his slight curls, the same as Loraine’s, even at this length.

He wants. He wants so badly, and he’s so tired of not being able to give into it.

Hesitantly, nervously, he slips one of his hands free of Mavis’s, dropping it to his side and running the edges of his fingers along the hem of his board shorts, the long fabric chaffing against the inside of his knees as it has for the last two days, heavy and unbearable.

“Could I…” Lance says quietly. “Could you bring me those shorts you bought me? Please?”

Just three weeks. Three weeks here, in this place where secrets can lay buried, and then he will go home to Veradera, and be who he needs to be once more.

Nobody needs to know.

…Right?

#spilling like an overflowing sink (voltron) #Voltron #vld fanfic #vld fanfiction #my writing

[recentanimenews]

Bookshelf Briefs 5/7/20

The Ancient Magus’ Bride, Vol. 12 | By Kore Yamazaki | Seven Seas – As much as I continue to love this series overall, this particular volume had some highs and lows for me. When Chise’s new classmates are in a scene with her, I find them interesting (particularly her prickly roommate, Lucy) and enjoy seeing Chise successfully interact with peers when just a couple of volumes ago she had doubts about her ability to do so. That said, the conversations these characters have amongst themselves about their pureblood alchemical family drama are unimaginably boring. At the same time, there’s an important conversation between the leads in which Elias tries to clarify what he meant by “bride” and an eventful camping trip to Scotland at the end of the volume that sees Lucy in peril, both of which I greatly enjoyed. In the end, I’m as eager for the next installment as ever. – Michelle Smith

As Miss Beelzebub Likes, Vol. 9 | By Matoba | Yen Press – It would appear that the manga author is well aware that Eurydice is not the most popular character in this book, as the first part of it deals with her getting amnesia and forgetting she’s a shotacon… and having people reluctant to cure her. Big same. Elsewhere, it’s all about the three “main” couples in the series, none of whom are official but all of whom are teased to death. Astaroth and Sacchan are stuck on a seemingly deserted island, and both are feeling very awkward around each other. Beelzebub and Mullin are a couple but don’t actually seem to realize it, much to the frustration of others. Most importantly, Azazel and Belphegor hold a real conversation! It’s good setup for the final volume next time. Fluffy fun. – Sean Gaffney

Cherry Magic! Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?!, Vol. 1 | By Yuu Toyota | Square Enix – The title of this one gave me the impression that it was going to be smutty, but the reality is anything but (at least so far). Kiyoshi Adachi is a gloomy, average, thirty-year-old virgin who has just discovered he can read the minds of the people he touches. When Adachi decides to see whether his seemingly perfect coworker, Kurosawa, has a secret nasty personality, he instead discovers that Kurosawa is romantically interested in him. As Adachi accesses more of Kurosawa’s thoughts throughout the volume, he realizes that he’s a genuinely good person and wants to get to know him better, but his lack of romantic experience means he gets overwhelmed easily. I think these guys make a cute couple and look forward to continuing the series. I also really enjoyed the bonus stories, especially the one about Adachi’s equally virginal friend and a delivery guy who bond over a kitty. – Michelle Smith

Gabriel Dropout, Vol. 8 | By Ukami |Yen Press – The main thrust of this volume is the arrival of Gabriel’s big sister Zeruel, who (as Gabriel knows) will flip her shit when she sees her behaving like a sloppy otaku, and (as Gabriel doesn’t know) has a massive sister complex about her. This amusingly leads to Gabriel acting like a perfect little angel and creeping everyone out. Fortunately, in a “who knows Gabriel best” trivia competition, Vignette’s knowledge of present Gabriel trumps Zaruel’s past knowledge. Speaking of Vignette, her demonic tendencies take another beating when another demon in the group refuses to see her as anything but an angel because she can’t be mean. Basically, be they angel or demon, everyone in this cast is a flake, so it’s all good. – Sean Gaffney

Kakushigoto: My Dad’s Secret Ambition, Vol. 2 | By Kouji Kumeta | Kodansha Comics (digital only) – This series continues to be the sweeter, more optimistic version of Zetsubou-sensei, and I’m OK with that. This is not to say that the author does not get a bit bitter about things that are in his wheelhouse, such as constant editor turnover (his current editor, who is a bit of a loser, is there because no one else will have Kakushi) and having to judge new entries in a manga competition (Kakushi judges fine, but is undercut by the stupid editor adding (lol) after every entry). Biting the hand that feeds him has always been Kouji Kumeta’s top skill. That said, it almost seems tempered by age and maturity here, particularly in the scenes with the father and daughter simply being a good family. Ominous future, though… – Sean Gaffney

Monthly Girls’ Nozaki-kun, Vol. 11 | By Izumi Tsubaki | Yen Press – Sometimes it happens that I just don’t have much to say about a volume of Monthly Girls’ Nozaki-kun. I like it best when some modicum of progress is made in one of the core relationships in the series, and for the most part (and despite the claim on the back cover that Wakamatsu finally learns Lorelai’s true identity) we don’t get that this time. Mostly it’s gags about otome games and hypnosis and what if Nozaki did a book signing. That said, there is a very nice tidbit at the end where Hori sincerely tells Kashima that he likes everything about her, and I hope that isn’t forgotten though I realize it’s extremely likely that nothing will come of it. In summation, I think I’m kind of reading this wrong, but ultimately I still enjoy it. – Michelle Smith

Prince Freya, Vol. 1 | By Keiko Ishihara | Viz Media – While several of Ishihara’s manga have now been released in English, Prince Freya is the first I’ve read. But I’m always happy to see more shoujo fantasy released, so I was looking forward to giving the series a try. The premise of the manga is pretty solid if not particularly innovative—Freya is a young woman who, due to unusual and deadly circumstances, is required to pose as Prince Edvard, the leader of her country. Ishihara has also laid the groundwork for some excellent court politics and intrigue. The pacing, however, especially in the introductory chapter, is extraordinarily fast. In addition, time and distance seem to have frustratingly little meaning in the series. And unless there’s some sort of spirit possession going on (which admittedly would be an interesting twist), Freya’s “becoming” Edvard in the first volume strains belief. But even considering its flaws, Prince Freya continues to intrigue me. – Ash Brown

Shoulder-a-Coffin Kuro Side Story: Nostalgic Travelogue | By Satoko Kiyuduki | Yen Press – This is nothing more than a series of short stories set during and after the main series, but if it allows us to spend more time with Kuro and friends, I’m 100% down with it. There’s moments of bittersweet tragedy in a story of a princess who sacrifices her life for the sake of her country. There’s amusing moments, such as Kuro and Sen having to play chess to escape a king’s wrath… a very strange game of chess. And there’s heartwarming, such as a young boy who grows older as he hears the stories of the travelers (including Kuro) who pass through his inn, eventually finding himself involved with some of the people he heard about. I love this series; it’s gorgeous and poignant. – Sean Gaffney

Sweat and Soap, Vol. 2 | By Kintetsu Yamada | Kodansha Comics – Now that our main couple has gotten together, it’s time to bring in some things to cause potential drama. The cute underling at work that’s in Kotaro’s department (and clearly has a crush on him) tries to uncover if he and Asako are dating… but fails. Also, he sees her like a little sister. Asako tells her mother she’s dating a guy… and she’s thrilled. The biggest issue in this volume may be Asako’s little brother Keita, who had to defend her from bullies as a kid and thus doesn’t trust anyone who might date his big sister. That said, a nice dinner at Keita’s restaurant (he’s a budding chef) does the trick, with Kotaro winning him over by simply being sincere. Both the sweat and the sex have lessened in this book, leaving pure sweetness. – Sean Gaffney

A Witch’s Printing Office, Vol. 2 | By Mochinchi and Yasuhiro Miyama | Yen Press – This started badly, with an entirely gratuitous boob shot distracting me from what turned out to be a pretty good plotline of a cooped-up rich kid wanting to get out into the world and read more… even if it turns out she might be reading her mom’s doujinshi. The basic premise of this series is that anyone and everyone can be happy buying and reading doujinshi, even if it’s monster guides or magic spellbooks. Yes, even the demon lord, who turns out to be quite nice. In fact, the real danger in this book is a natural one, as there’s a huge typhoon that threatens to take out the island that not-Comiket is held on. And there’s even a cliffhanger… is there another Japanese person trapped here? Aside from one bad bit of fanservice, still very good. – Sean Gaffney

By: Ash Brown

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