#and he was always trying to prove how terrible his luck was but couldn't

[avisisisis]

Love how we all thought Pavitr would end up getting traumatized or killed from his “Being Spider-Man is so easy!” line but then it turns out that his entire plot is about NOT having any Spider-Man related trauma

#they didn't say anything abt non-spider-man related trauma tho #listen. i love him okay. but i just need my favorite characters to suffer JUST A LITTLE BIT #he just needs a slightly terrible backstory... #i love how his canon event was stopped bc miles helped him #shows how being alone isn't the only answer #i had a dream where he had THE best luck when he was with other spider-men/women #but whenever he was alone he'd fall into a dumpster of bad luck #and the reason why he was so happy all the time is bc of the good luck they gave him #and he was always trying to prove how terrible his luck was but couldn't #it was like when you told your mom you couldn't find something #and she told you to look for it better like 5 times #and eventually she went to get it herself and found it on the first try #it was so funny #i always get the best plots from dreams. it sucks bc i can never write em #but eh #i'll survive #probably #pavitr prabhakar #spider-man #spiderman #atsv #across the spiderverse #spider man india

[hoasvuon]

5:21 PM

you never used to believe in the idea of "fate" but if any day was going to prove you wrong, it was today.

the stars had (in the absolute worst way possible) lined up in a way that made even you question the irony of it all. not only were you late to work today, you had run straight over a puddle on the walk to work: ruining your shoes, soaking your socks, and staining your skirt. then at work, you somehow managed to delete the entire file that you had spent two painstakingly long hours trying to format, only for your mouse to slip and click 'delete file' instead of 'save file'. and the icing on the cake, you realized that you hadn't remembered to grab anything to eat for lunch on the way out of the door this morning. all in all, this all added up to result in a very sad, sad day.

you couldn't believe your luck (or lack of it).

but finally, you reached the end of your workday. softly sighing, you logged out of your computer, and began packing up your stuff before noticing your phone screen light up with a text notification.

baby jun 🐱:

are you getting off work now ?

i got off work early today ! i'll meet you outside your office and we can walk home together (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)and i got you a surprise !

your eyes widened as you read the message on your phone, a small glimmer of delight breaking through the cloud of misfortune that had hung over your day. you never knew how, but your boyfriend somehow was always the one person who seemed to have a knack for turning your gloomy days around.

a smile crept onto your face as you quickly replied:

"yes, just finished! i'll meet you outside baby !

you packed up your belongings in a hurry, eager to escape the your desk and the day that seemed determined to test your patience at every turn. as you walked out of the office building, you couldn't help but your mood slowly get lighter.

sure enough, as you emerged from the building, you spotted junhui waiting for you with a bright smile. he held out a cardboard boxhis right hand, the aroma wafting through the air as you got closer, letting you know it was your favorite earl grey pastries from a bakery you often frequented across the street.

taking light steps up to meet him, you opened your arms to wrap around his shoulders, resting your face in the nook of his neck, feeling his arms wrap around your body as he placed a soft kiss on the side of your head.

"tough day?" he asked, sympathy in his eyes as he began to pat your back in a soothing manner.

you chuckled, realizing how understated that question was, before pulling back to look him in the eyes. "you have no idea. it's like the entire universe decided to play a prank on me today."

"well, consider this the universe's way of making it up to you," he replied, before turning and linking his free hand with yours. "let's walk home together, and i promise by the time we get there, i'll make sure you'll forget all about your terrible day."

as the two of you strolled together, the weight of the day began to lift. junhui's company, your shared laughter, and the simple joy of having someone to lean on turned your day's misfortunes into distant memories. you couldn't help but marvel at the serendipity of it all, the way fate seemed to weave its magic in the most unexpected moments.

perhaps, you thought, there was something to this idea of fate after all. because somehow, fate had brought this ray of warm sunlight in your life, and you couldn't be more grateful for the stars aligning in the best and most unexpected way.

#svt x reader #svt fluff #svt imagines #svt scenarios #svt drabble #svt soft hours #seventeen fanfic #svt angst #seventeen soft hours #seventeen fluff #svt #wen junhui #moon junhui #junhui #junhui x reader #junhui fluff #junhui smut #junhui imagines #seventeen jun #seventeen junhui #jun imagines #jun scenarios #jun soft hours

[archivewilliamrikerstblog]

You Came Back - William Riker X Reader

Summary: The Reader finally returns to the Enterprise after spending several months working aboard another ship, and Riker is more than glad to have them back.

Word Count: 1400+

Rating: NS/FW-ish?

Warning(s): Extremely vague smut

Author's Note:  

- - - - -

You had been equal parts shocked and excited after receiving the news of your temporary transfer. You had been called by name to help aid the research operation of another ship.

It had been a little short notice, the other ship's need for you urgent. You were ill prepared to depart the Enterprise fully, even for a short time. You had only a day to make yourself ready for a mission that would take you away for around a month.

A month was a long time to be away from anywhere, but even more so with the Enterprise - a ship that seems to befall some new disaster every week. So you fretted, worried about how much you would miss, if those you would be leaving behind would fair well.

One thing you did not have to agonize over was whether or not you would be missed.

Riker too had been shocked to hear that you were being called away from the Enterprise. Once he had learned the details, he couldn't help but be proud of you. It wasn't every day that someone was recognized for their brilliance - and now you were getting a chance to show that off.

Although Riker hid it well, he was torn. Temporary though it may be, you were leaving. A month was a long time, enough time to forget - something he was all too familiar with in more ways than one.

There was a degree more for he is a complex man: Riker has already begun to fear for your safety. Yes, missions had taken him to places you could not follow before. Many Away Missions did not require you, and undercover assignments occasional; but you had always been on the Enterprise. The Enterprise, a place that despite the hardships she faced, the crew could always be counted to have each other's best interests at heart.

A needless worry, but one he has all the same. Not every ship was the same - not every Captain held the same values. Riker himself had learned long ago, and was routinely reminded of, just what sort of lengths one might go to with prestige on the line.

While it might have cause for a celebration, a wish of luck and a safe return; it wasn't what you or Riker wanted. The entire night had been spent in your shared quarters, committing to memory the intricacies of one another. As if it was the last chance that you would and this was a promise it wouldn't be.

Riker saw you off early the next day when the two ships rendezvous. He didn't mind making a little scene of your departure, teasing you about not forgetting him before giving you a parting kiss.

Your time spent away was fraught with tackling the problem at hand. Working diligently with this new crew to find a usable solution. Although you were busy, pulling long hours following threads that led no where, you were having a pleasant time. The crew were friendly, making your stay easier.

Yet you missed Riker terribly. His wide smile and soft, blue eyes; gentle hands and warm body. At least you had something to focus on, to try to keep those lonely, longing thoughts away.

Riker too through himself into duty; there was always something that demanded the First Officer's attention. At least aboard the Enterprise he was amongst friends, there was always someone to pester or pester him while you were away.

It were nights that proved a challenge, but not at first. The first several nights Riker was able to find sleep, but as your absence from the quarter became more apparent the lonely feeling you had long sense snuffed out began to creep back in.

Riker offered Poker Night fairly often while you were away. Having his friends together in his quarters for a friendly game helped ease some of his loneliness. But soon enough they would leave and once more he was alone.

It is amazing how quickly a person can grow accustomed to something, how quickly one can begin to take the little things for granted.

You weren't in total isolation from one another. Correspondence could be sent between the pair of you at any time. Although you or Riker were not always able to, it was an effort both of you endeavored to keep frequent.

While Riker always had a way with words, a diplomat and a romantic all the same, he found his typed messages to be lacking. He couldn't saw what all he would want to, for it was far easier to show you - but that simple can't be with you so far away.

You, of course, did not. Every message shared between you, however short or infrequent they may be, brought you reassurance. He was well and waiting for you. In your messages, you tried to offer that same reassurance. You were doing well, making both progress and friends.

Maybe a little sooner than either of you expect; you make your break in the mission, proving that you really were the solution to the ship's problem. You could go home early, if only it weren't the Enterprise being held up.

To know that you are waiting, ready, and willing to make a return to the Enterprise, but not to be able to answer that call? Well, Riker had been able to keep up his façade before, to pretend that he wasn't worried out of his mind for you; but it cracked that night.

Riker misses you terribly. He isn't sure when he fell back into the old habit of playing music to sleep. You had long since replaced the need for distraction to find rest.

It would be unreasonable to be offended that your stay would need to run its full course. Valued though you may be, the Enterprise can not always drop her mission for one officer. So you did wait, offering more of your expertise to the ship which was grateful for it.

Even when the ships can rendezvous once more, Riker doesn't entirely get what he longs for. It has still taken the Enterprise too long to reach you, his shift nearly at an end.

The ill-timing meant that there was now more than just him waiting for you. Friends also clambered to welcome you back and beg to hear the finer details.

Although try as they might to tempt you into a round of drinks while you recount the mission; you had some pressing matters to attend to upon return.

Your reunion in the Transporter Room is short and sweet, some clever quip leaving him the moment you materialized.

With one arm tightly around you, the other hand occupied by what little luggage you had, Riker leads you from the doors of the transporter back to your shared quarters. All the while trying to catch up on all you had missed while away.

Once sheltered within the quarters, all pretense of professionalism is dropped. Your luggage left abandoned near the door as you quickly begin to refamiliarize yourself with one another. Desperation to feel the closeness of a more intimate dance getting the better of both of you

The room awash in sighs of relief and moans of pleasure as you make up for lost time. Release is quick for both but who could blame either of you - a month is a long time.

Satiated, reassurance found in the way that worked best for the both of you, most of the early part of the night is spent catching up. Eventually leaving bed for food and a shower that would prove to be a waste of time.

With the hour growing late, once more you lead Riker into bed. Once more, it is not rest you will find.

Riker offers some cheeky remark about not being needed on the Bridge the next day before practically pouncing on you.

Once more satiated, it is you who holds Riker close. Only a few more words are exchanged now, exhaustion starting to creep in. Try as he might, Riker can't keep awake long enough to see you asleep before him. Finally able to find less troubled sleep with your heart beating against his ear.

This time is different. Lacking the desperation of before, the pair of you are able to take your time. Riker is especially enthusiastic to see if he remembers how to draw out your pleasure; to once more hear the song you only ever sung for him.

You too find your own satisfaction at how just needy you can make him, always a pleading mess near the crescendo.

#ns/fw #kinda #i wrote this really vague #william riker x reader

[theplaytheroist]

For I Such Yearn Chapter 3: For Such Truth

If anything happens this week, Elizabeth couldn't visit the Ciel's Mansion due to him doing a mission outside of London and bringing his servants along. What great timing indeed but at least she can finish reading the book, it is very interesting that so much that Gregory written is impressive itself, about the two silbings, Sebastien and Mey-rin that he have taught them years ago have always have a rivalry against each other to see who is the strongest. She wonders if Mey-rin ever felt like she was behind on Sebastien or Sebastien is behind on Mey-rin. Whatever it is, they're rivalry is impressive and worrying at times.

"Elizabeth dear, everything alright?" Alexis knocks on the door. "I'm fine father, don't worry. Shouldn't you be with Mother now?" Elizabeth asked. "I'm afraid your Mother went shopping with your brother Edward" Alexis smirks. "I pity him" Elizabeth chuckled. "So do I" Alexis laughs. "Well, I'm waiting for Mey-rin to return from Ciel's mission" Elizabeth mention. "Really? Why is it you need Mey-rin for?" Alexis questions. "Well... she isn't what she seems, I found out somethings she hide but for a good reason" Elizabeth answered. "Ahhh, well, I would tried to stop you but your like mother completely, I pity your fiancee" Alexis teased. "Yeah well, it doesn't affect me as much as you think father" Elizabeth brings up. "Your right, I know that one day we have to treat you as lady instead of a child" Alexis smiles sadly. "Why couldn't you? It's not that hard father" Elizabeth narrow her eyes. "Well, it's hard to see you two grow up, there are things you can cherish, whatever decision you make, it's you how you decide your fate of things" Alexis patted her daughter's head.

"Fate huh? What does fate has upon me then?" Elizabeth questioned herself.

"Well anyway, they should be back right?" Alexis mention. "Yeah, it's already been a week" Elizabeth agreed. "Why don't you visit them then?" Alexis asked. "True but Ciel gets... annoyed when I come back from missions" Elizabeth answered. "Does he? That's a first you tell me about it? He didn't do anything bad to you? Did he?" Alexis expressed protectively. "No! Nothing like that father! I can assure you! Ciel is always caught up from Work and Guard Dog Missions so he doesn't have time for me as such" Elizabeth quickly answered and explained. "Oh... that make sense but tell us, if Ciel doesn't work out for you, we can break off the engagement and make you decide who you married" Alexis mention with a smile.

Elizabeth eye widen in shock, not a terrible way but the fact they are giving her choice, a choice she can make! That's a huge first from her parents! She loved Ciel dearly of course! But...She doesn't know what to do to show Ciel to prove herself how much she is strong, will and useful to him.

"Thank you father" Elizabeth smiles back. "Of course Lizzy! Good luck with Mey-rin!" Alexis waves off.

Speaking of Mey-rin, she's is currently back from Ciel's guard dog mission, resting on her bed, reading her brother book. Hoping for hints about him or his study of much demon knowledge he knows.

"Yessh brother, your intelligence amazed me, how is it that I underestimate you so much, even when I left Saint-Zacharias for power" Mey-rin put his book on her face of frustration.

So far during the week, Mey-rin has been doing her demonology missions in secret and assassin missions. Despite her making sure she isn't being suspicious, especially around Sebastian the butler, it does question if Elizabeth solved her of what she is or at least tried too. Then she noticed the Apple of Eden is glowing, she took it out of her pouch.

"I don't understand why it's glowing so much recently. As much as I want to touch it, I'm still thinking it's Juno that's trying to contact me" Mey-rin looks at the apple apple eden.

Mey-rin trying to figure out what's up with it, then instantly sense Sebastian coming to her and put it away quickly as Sebastian appears.

"Something the matter Mr. Sebastian?" Mey-rin asked. "Nothing at all Mey-rin, I just need to inform you that the young master isn't in the mood considering the mission that happen this week" Sebastian stated. "Yes of course Mr. Sebastian, I understand, yes I do!" Mey-rin slauted. "Good, just keep doing what what doing, it seems your clumsiness is disappearing little by little" Sebastian complimented her as he left.

Mey-rin sighs in relief, she is reminded how much Ciel is like her. She remember every time her brother comes back from her mission, she always treats him like shit and always called him for idiot for not understanding why he shouldn't be here. Mey-rin cursed her younger self, how much she wanted to slap herself. With Sebastian doing his chores as he heard a knock on the door, Sebastian opens it to see Lady Elizabeth on the front door and a book she's holding.

"Hey Sebastian, is it okay I can speak to Mey-rin only today? I know is not in the mood so I'm just talking to Mey-rin, that's all" Elizabeth stated. "Be my guest" Sebastian let her in. "Thank you Sebastian, sorry that I'm interrupting you" Elizabeth waves off.

Elizabeth enters Mey-rin room as she is reading her brother book.

"Hey Mey-rin, I'm ready to figured out who you are" Elizabeth spoke up. "Okay, let's hear it then" Mey-rin close her brother book. "Well first off, I think you are nobility status or used to be consider that fact you read academic books before, considering the fact that you have the access easily" Elizabeth started off. "Hmmm, interesting observation there, continue" Mey-rin nodded her head. "You are a demonologist, you've mention you study demonology so that means you still do" Elizabeth added. "Alright then, that's good, please continues on, what else" Mey-rin smirks. "Third one is...your one of the last remaining demonologist that survived the French Execution in 15th-16th century meaning that, your brother name is Sebastien and your teacher name is Gregory Simon" Elizabeth added the final note.

Mey-rin smirks falls into shock! H-how did she know that? There's no way no one knows (minus the reapers of course!) Unless...no, there's no way Elizabeth isn't human, she's purely human and she can sense that of course.

"How did you know that out?" Mey-rin questions. "My grandmother, Claudia found your teacher book during her Guard Dog Days. My mother told me grandmother Claudia met a demonologist that told to hold on this book and find the person with the name. He wrote down a note for you and your brother" Elizabeth shows it to her.

Mey-rin took the note from Elizabeth's hand, she open it as she begins to read. Mey-rin reads the note as Elizabeth notice her face, even though her glasses can cover her eyes completely at times, she did notice her hand shaking at the note, like she's gonna cry to this. Mey-rin took her glasses as she cover her hand over the eyes, as Elizabeth doesn't know what to do but she knows that to say.

"It's okay to cried Mey-rin, it's normal for us humans to cried. Is there a shame to that?" Elizabeth spoke softly. "N-no, nothing like that but I wasn't expecting that from my teacher, Gregory" Mey-rin responded with a broken voice. "W-why? Was he a terrible teacher?" Elizabeth questioned. "No, he was the greatest teacher I've ever had yet I wish I said goodbye to him before I left France" Mey-rin answered with somber looking at the note. "What happen during that day of the execution? It's up to you if you want to explain to me" Elizabeth asked.

Mey-rin begins to ponder, she did promise that'll she tell Elizabeth the truth once she find out who she is and she kept her word.

"Demon Magic Wall" Mey-rin spelled the room as she put her glasses on. "Huh? What did you do here?" Elizabeth looks around. "This right here is Demon Magic Wall, it's a technique where we can cover noises that way no one can hear" Mey-rin explains. "Definitely not human I can tell" Elizabeth comments. "I give my word to you so promise me that you wouldn't tell anyone, not even your parents, Ciel and Sebastian. It's between the both of us and only us" Mey-rin sternly stated. "Promise" Elizabeth nodded firmly.

Mey-rin took a deep breath, knowing that this the first she ever open up to anyone, let alone anyone. For centuries she kept to herself but fate come in with Elizabeth reminding her of her dear brother and this time...she'll be with her at all time to make she wouldn't make the same mistake again to her brother.

"Okay, so here it goes, I was born in China but my parents moved the, Saint Zacharias, France soon after I was born. My family is noblilty status and part the of Creed. We server the light under the darkness, we are assassin. It's secret Creed that I was involved ever since I was born and once turned I 6 years old, I was train the way of the Assassin by my family. I met my brother there when I was only 4 and he was 5 during that time. His name is Sebastien....Sebastien Michaelis" Mey-rin begins.

Elizabeth stood frozen by the revelation, the butler has the same name as Mey-rin brother, the French Inquisition that was executed...could it be....? No...it has to be.

"Sebastian the butler is a demon, isn't he?" Elizabeth spoke quietly. "Yes he is" Mey-rin nodded.

It all make sense now, why Ciel relayed on Sebastian, how he was able to do it quickly. So that explains why Ciel...is so distant towards her. That means he gave up his soul to Sebastian in order to get his revenge.

"That explains why Ciel is so distant from me. I don't blame him honestly and now that I understand him more, I'll respect his decision" Elizabeth stated. "Ciel really should've know you more Lizzy. It's ashame he doesn't know at all, he may know simple things about you but to understand you, he does not. All I'm saying is this Lizzy" Mey-rin responded looking at Elizabeth who is startled by her face. "Y-yeah, what is it?" Elizabeth questioned. "Whatever Ciel says to you, believe what he says" Mey-rin answered. "What why?" Elizabeth narrows her eyes. "You said I remind you of Ciel right?" Mey-rin mention. "Yes you do at times but if like... acknowledge what he has done...to me at least" Elizabeth spoke lowly. "I am him in terms of a different outcome" Mey-rin firmly stated.

Elizabeth is frozen by that statement...that's not what she expected for Mey-rin to say at all but that also means...Sebastien Michaelis is like her but different outcome...h-how is that possible that history repeated itself after 3 centuries.

"I lost my parents at the age of 10 on my birthday, I was kidnapped at the cult there, I vowed myself for revenge. I was able to escaped thanks towards the Apple of Eden, giving me power to escape and kill them all. I'll give Ciel credit though" Mey-rin chuckled bitterly as she explained. "That is....what?" Elizabeth questions. "He gave his soul to a demon...I have power yes but...I rather died then lived. But I have to remind myself... Dying is easier, living is harder" Mey-rin answered laugh to herself knowing that Elizabeth wouldn't find it funny at all. "Yeah, I guess so...but I have answers now" Elizabeth smiles to herself. "You are very intelligent Lizzy, don't you ever forget that. I'll be mad that your intelligence will be wasted because of society and Ciel. I respected you more than ever before, I promise you that'll you'll be a great lady in the future" Mey-rin smiles.

Elizabeth could've help but felt a bit sense of pride, able to gain respect of someone who is willing to give her a chance and her intelligence is praise on it. Mey-rin took out something out of the drawer as it show goggles with headband. Mey-rin disperse the demon magic wall as Elizabeth quickly ran off, avoiding Ciel's mood as she doesn't want to deal with him at all today. Mey-rin sighs in relief, knowing that she accomplished something she never did, opening up to people and since Elizabeth is like her brother, she felt more comfortable.

"Tch, God damn it Juno! What do you want with me" Mey-rin takes out the Apple of Eden out of the pouch "What is it your trying to do? Use it so you can escape or is it something more than that?" Mey-rin looks at the object "Man, I hope there's way to kill you one day cause I'm done with this bullshit" Mey-rin cursed as she put it away.

"Mey-rin, is everything alright with you and Lady Elizabeth?" Sebastian appear. "Yeah, we both having a friendly conversation! Me and Lady Elizabeth are having blast! It's nice to have more lady friends" Mey-rin chuckled with a smile. "That's good, it seems like Lady Elizabeth is enjoying with you without the Young Master" Sebastian smiles. "Well, if you don't mind me asking Mr. Sebastian yes indeed! Do you respect Lady Elizabeth?" Mey-rin asked. "I do believe it or not, but I felt she's held back by the Young Master" Sebastian answered. "You and me both Mr. Sebastian, honestly. Please don't mention this to the Young Master" Mey-rin mention. "Of course Mey-rin, what kind of butler will I be?" Sebastian smirks. "A terrible one, yes indeed sir" Mey-rin joked. "Nice to know, anyway, continue off with your chores" Sebastian waves off.

"You know Sebastien, my dear brother, now that I changed so much and open...I hope that I open up to you one day" Mey-rin smiles looking at his book as she puts it in the drawer.

Mey-rin walks off to do her chores as Elizabeth is in her room, resting on the bed, feeling accomplished what she solved. Maybe one day the girls will find more what they've bargain for and maybe that fate already set otherwise...

The Apple Of Eden glowing once again in Mey-rin table, this time, it's seems like it isn't Juno at all this time...

Here we are the third chapter! Oh boy! What a long one! I hope this chapter is very good and maybe longer this time? Maybe? But I want to bring in the fact that Sebastien Michaelis is based on a real person.

Here he is! Here's small insight for him;

Sébastien Michaelis was a French  inquisitor and prior of the Dominican order who lived during the late 16th and early 17th centuries. His Histoire admirable de la possession et conversion d'une penitente (1612) includes a classification of demons which has passed into general use in esoteric literature. He is Born in 1543 so he died at 75, his birthday is unknown so if anything, Sebastian is name after human, demonologist and a dog! Oh the Irony XD.

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #sebamey #cielizzy #sebastian and mey rin #ciel and elizabeth #au

[lake-archive]

Sneaky

AO3 Link - A Shared Love Between Our Posse (Masterlist)

Fandom: Hypnosis Mic

Characters: Gentaro Yumeno, Ann Wolff (OC)

Pairing: Genann (Gentaro/Ann) (Developing)

Synposis: Ann's attempt at a payback, wanting to tease Gentaro for a change… It couldn't have gone more wrong.

Words: 1,648

All the past incidents as far as Ann themself could look back on. It was usually them being forced in place, standing there with a beet red face and at the brink of squealing. Usually it was just when the two had been out of sight, when there were no prying eyes whatsoever. Though sometimes it had been in public, an ever so shameless attempt which would prove itself ever so successful. 

Each attempt would get Ann’s legs wobbly, wobblier than they would have liked. Was it there fault!? Well… Sort of yes… After all, they just had to be terribly weak to each attempt, falling for one after the other. Attempts of what? Attempts of Gentaro being ever so teasing towards them. 

It had not stopped. Then again, they had honestly expected it not to, given how he was. He loved to mess around with his friends. Dice in particular was a target he would choose often. And they could not blame him, they themself loved to mess with Dice one way or another, either verbally or physically. It was very hard for them to resist. Make him flustered and go all red, or shocked because he believed something a little too easily~ 

Well, if one was to see it that way, then one may argue that Ann was just getting a taste of their own medicine at the end of the day. In a sense… Yeah, they were. They were somewhat aware of that. And yet… Even when they were supposed to expect it, they had been caught off guard either way. Always so shocked, so flustered, ready to just run off from whatever had been thrown at them. It can range from a simple blow into the ear, to the soft voice saying the most embarrassing things right into their ear or even being seated on his lap for a mere lie Gentaro came up with on the spot. The methods seemed to be endless and he always came up with something new to drive them over the edge, make them unable to concentrate or keep their thoughts straight… Or straighter than themself at least.

But they had to try something! Or they wanted to! They couldn’t sit there, all idle and let Gentaro do his thing! Oh no! Today would be payback time! Unannounced of course or he could maybe catch onto their little plan. He was no fool. And honestly, he probably could predict their move if they asked to meet him or something like that. Just look at them and have a quick counter. It was that easy for him, or so it seemed. No, Ann had to step up their game. So it was just a moment of chance… One which had come rather soon.

Though the first few minutes they had felt a little foolish. After all, they had spotted Gentaro by sheer luck outside and thus were trying to sneak around. All he had been doing was sitting on that bench, his notebook opened in front of him yet not seeming to write anything in it. Instead he was just looking around, each time gazing at one passerby after the other. It was something he was doing constantly, even at the café both met at from time to time and none of the two had something to say to the other. He may as well be absorbed in watching those people walk right past him. 

That just meant one thing… It was time to strike! 

So that was what they did, sneak by, past some other people at the park who… Probably threw weird glances at them, let’s be honest. But they could not let that bother them. They ignored it in fact, all too used to it by now anyway. 

Besides, they had to concentrate. Sneaking from one tree trunk to the other, out of side, or even behind a bush here and there. It was luckily a little busy at the park so hearing noises like these were not uncommon. It was unlikely that he would turn around as a result, or so they hoped at the very least. Sneak, sneak, sneak. Let nothing distract you!

And just like that they had gotten closer and closer, stopping at nothing. Quiet steps, regardless of circumstances… Very quiet ones… And they only got closer and clo–

Yet when too close by now, only millimeters away from the young author, they froze. Wait… They had not thought this through! Shit… What were they going to tease him with there? A simple scare? But that’d be too easy. Besides, he never stroke them as someone who was easily startled. Uh… What else was there? Boo? No no no, that’s even worse! Maybe a sudden opener, make him believe that his editor had caught him or something like that. But who was his editor? Name? Uh… Ann had no idea, not that much at least… This was going great… So it wasn’t. How to pay him back? How? How how how!? Ok maybe they were acting a bit too hasty so—

“Ah, there you are my dear!” Before knowing it however they heard his voice loudly echoing through the park, almost right into their own ears as he got up in one swoop from the bench and then… Turning around!? Shi— “I was worried that thou had forgotten our date!”

And that made Ann stare in disbelief, cheeks lighting up. “D… Date!? What are you—” 

Yet they couldn’t finish and instead felt Gentaro grab both of their hands into both of his own, having a surprisingly tight grip on them. Not just that but he looked overly serious, almost… Overdramatic!? Wait, they had no time to think nor process this! What was he doing!? No chance to ask however, he carried on as if they had never asked: “Making me wait for so long, thou have no shame! Thou art not going out with another person, art thou!?” And he sounded… Upset? But also not rea— Wait not the time!

“Ah— I’m no—” They were about to answer yet stopped themself at the very last second, shaking their head quickly. “Wait no! There’s no date! What are you talking about!?”

“Hah!?” And as if on cue he let go of their hands, suddenly staggering backwards and… Falling to his knees!? He even was holding a hand in front of his chest, clenching it where his heart was while using the other to keep himself on the ground, as if not trying to completely fall over. He even shook, as if at the brink of crying… What type of drama was this!? “H… Have thou forgotten… No, Ann! And I thought we had something between us!”

Oh they knew he was full of shit right now! And yet, he sounded almost convincing… A little too convincing as they noticed the onlookers, making this even worse. They even heard the whispering.

“Yumeno–Sensei has a girlfriend?”

“Oh how dare she cheat on him! I’d treat him so much better!”

“Yumeno–Sensei’s partner? Wait… But that’s the person from Ramuda’s posts… Aren’t they with him?”

“Oh maybe they are cheating on Ramuda! Looks like someone’s full of shit themself!”

Oh god, the rumors are starting… And they were rumors which made Ann’s stomach turn several times while becoming redder and redder. And the longer those went on, the more they bit onto their lip. They heard each pass.

“Maybe we should tell Ramuda…”

“You sure? They held his hand too in one of the pictures. Ramuda didn’t care.”

“Maybe he didn’t notice! They’re cheating on him! Period!”

“Well… Meeting with another guy… And from Fling Posse nonetheless—”

Hah, no. No holding back. They had to say it. “Gentaro, we’re not dating!” Ann pointed out, beyond embarrassed, making everyone go silent. And even Gentaro himself was looking up at Ann, the shaking stopping and… Yeah, his face was not even at the brink of tears. His voice sounded like it but his face… No, not even close.

In fact, a few moments later he let out a chuckle and lifted himself off the ground and dusting himself off. “Of course we aren’t. That was a lie~” He said, unapologetic. He even grinned right at them. “To teach someone like thee a lesson.”

“L… Lesson!? For what!?”

“For sneaking around the park like that. Did thou really think I hadn’t noticed?” He… Wait, he knew!? He knew about that!?

“H… how did you—”

“Thou art not very quiet.” He explained while stepping closer again. He didn’t have to, they heard him loud and clear. And yet, he did anyway, suddenly being extremely close to them yet again. His grin was right in their face and they were only staring at him… Or were trying to. Though the next thing he whispered right then and there, even with the people around.

“If you want to talk, you could have just walked up to me. Then we wouldn’t have been in this mess.” He pointed out yet not sounding upset. No, this was funny to him. Very funny.

“Wha—”

“But it was cute of you to try beating me. Better luck next time Ann~”

He… He was even able to tell… How did he— When— Ugh… This guy… “Guh… Prepare to have that smug look wiped off your face sooner than later…”

“Fufu~ I’ll look forward to that then. Do your worst~”

And at the end of it all both had even ignored the people surrounding them… So the crowd just saw the two of them staring at each other – One smug while the other was a little annoyed, pouting even. … Well, if the crowd had even bothered to look at the two by then and had not gone its own merry way. But even without the stares this had already been embarrassing enough.

Gentaro is sneakier than imagined.

#Nimue's Lake #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #selfship fanfiction #self ship fanfic #selfship fic #selfship community #self ship community #hypmic oc #hypnosis mic oc #self ship fanfiction #gentaro yumeno #yumeno gentaro #hypmic gentaro #oc x canon #hypnosis mic #hypmic #hypnosis microphone #s/i x f/o #Sweet Words #Genann

[dragon-kazansky]

Dangerous | Helmut Zemo

AU! Race car driver Zemo 😎

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

I AM ONCE AGAIN SORRY

[Masterlist]

[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]

Part 9

When Zemo got to the bar, there was no one there. He had gone inside looking for you, had asked all the staff when he couldn't see you there. He began to panic when they told him you had left a while ago.

Rushing back outside, he looked left and right rapidly. He saw no one. He got back into his car and drove. He would drive all night if he had to. He just had to find you.

He kept trying to call you, but you wouldn't pick up. At some point you turned your phone off, which just made him worry all the more.

Pietro Maximoff.

He hadn't heard that name in years. What happened back then had always hung over him like a dark cloud, but it had been so long since anyone had ever said that name to him.

He had to explain. You needed to know what happened. If Zemo lost you, what would be the point? How could he race without his lucky charm? He couldn't let this get between you both.

He felt horrible lying to you. There was so much he hadn't told you, but he had never wanted you to find out like this. He should have been honest from the start.

Zemo could only imagine what you were thinking. What must you think of him now?

How long had been driving? He had no idea. He hadn't found you yet. It was becoming harder and harder to keep up his facade. He wanted to yell, scream, punch something.

Everything was falling apart.

The only place he hadn't checked was home. He had no idea how you would have got there, the walk being too far, but it's all he had left.

He makes the drive back.

His grip on the steering wheel was tight. He was full of worry, anger, regret.

He pulls up to the house, but all the lights are off and there is no sign of life. He has the key for the door, there's no way you have got in. He looks down the path to the garage, it looks undisturbed. The garage is locked up tight.

You're not here.

His phone rings.

Zemo scrambles for the device, nearly dropping it from how bad his hands had begun to shake. He looks at the screen, but is left disappointed. It's not you.

James Barnes

He answers it.

"Whatever it is better be important. I have urgent business to attend to." Zemo is surprised by how level he can keep his voice right now.

"I'd say this is important."

"Well, what is it?"

"I bumped into Y/N on my way home. It's only because of Sam I was able to recognize them."

"Where are they?" He asks, almost urgently.

"On the last train home for the night. Zemo, what the Hell happened? They were hysterically upset. I swear I'll kick your ass if you did something stupid."

"It wasn't something I did. Were they alone?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Y/N had gone to meet someone. A wicked young woman who I may run over if I see her," he hisses down the phone.

"I didn't see anyone else."

"I have to go."

Zemo hangs up. He has to go to you, but first, he has to meet with Stark. The only way that nasty little woman could have known about that incident is if Stark had told her.

Tony Stark had been there that day.

Zemo gets into his car and he drives. He drives like a man on a mission. He doesn't care how late it is, Tony Stark will see him tonight.

If Zemo loses you, he will never forgive himself. He will never forgive Tony Stark.

He will never race again.

The lights are on at Stark's homebase. Zemo spends a few minutes parked outside looking at the window. The curtains were drawn, but movement could be seen vaguely behind them.

He gets out and marches up to the door. He knocks harshly.

In the seconds before the opening of the door, many thoughts flashed through Zemo's mind. He had no idea what would happen here tonight, all he did know was that Tony Stark was a cruel man who wanted to ruin everything good in his life.

Zemo had been beyond lucky they even let him race again after what happened.

The door opens. Stark stands there.

The way he looks at Zemo, it pisses him off. He stands with his chin up, head held high, looking down at Zemo. He knows why the Baron is here. He had anticipated his visit.

"What a surprise," Tony says, no emotion to his voice.

"What have you done?'

"What I had to." Tony walks away, leaving the door open. He walks over to his alcohol cabinet and pours himself a drink. Zemo steps inside, glaring daggers at the man. His hands clenched into fists as he grinds his jaw.

"That was six years ago."

"It still happened."

"You know it wasn't my fault."

Tony stands, drink in hand, looking at his rival. Here was a man who had been broken once before, and stands broken again. Stark did you a favour. Zemo wouldn't be here now if you had gone back to him after that, so he can only assume you left.

"You are the reason that kid is dead. Everyone knows it."

Zemo shakes his head.

"You are the reason people see me as a murderer. I did nothing to you. That, out there, is competition. We play the game by the rules and we play fair. At least, we're suppose to. I do not like your dirty tricks, Stark."

Tony doesn't move. He stands there, still.

"I was lucky they even let me race again, but even luckier when Y/N came into my life. You are taking away everything I hold dear, piece by piece. You are ruining me."

"You ruined yourself when you took up racing," Tony says, coldly.

"You just can't let it go, can you? You don't like that I am better than you."

Tony doesn't reply.

Zemo takes slow, careful steps toward Tony. His eyes, glazed with tears, do not look away from his gaze. He only stops when he is directly in front of him.

"If I lose Y/N, you will never hear the end of this. You're cruelty knows no bounds, Stark. I fell so very sorry for Miss Potts. How can she be so fond of a man like you who turns careers and flaunts around with other women. Does your little bird know you are a heartless bastard?"

"You don't scare me, Zemo."

"Not yet, I don't."

Zemo grabs the glass from Stark's hand, throws it at the wall behind him, and then marches away.

He has to see you.

By the time he reaches your town, it's about one on the morning. Though there is the chance you're sleeping, he is here and he will takes his chances.

He knocks on your door.

There are no sounds, no sign of movement, but there is a light which he can see under your door.

You're home.

"Y/N." His accent is heavier than usual, wavered by emotion. He leans up against the door, ear pressed against it.

You're there.

He knows you're there, listening.

"I'm sorry," he says, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about me. Pietro Maximoff died in a terrible accident. His car malfunctioned. It was an accident that turned into a case because someone decided to ruin my career."

He waited, wanted to see if you would say anything.

You didn't.

"I have raced before. I won on my first race. I won again, the second. A racing star, they called me. That was the first time Tony Stark had lost. Suddenly, he had competition. Real competition. Before, he would leave everyone in the dust, winning over and over again. Then I showed up. After my second win, he had my car checked. He was furious because it was legal. He assumed I had altered it against the rules because there was no way his cars would lose. Then that happened."

He hears you move. You're right behind the door.

"Pietro Maximoff was a crazy good driver. Apparently he was awed by me. I told him if he crossed the line that day, I would tutor him. We made a deal. However, his car malfunctioned after the third turn. He drove head first into the barrier, full speed. His car caught fire. He was alone. It took too long for the team to reach him. He died on impact, they say. He was dead whether they got to him or not."

He sighs, hand resting up against the door.

"I did not tamper with his car. I did not kill that boy. Tony Stark made them believe I did with no evidence to prove it. I was found not guilty of attempted murder, but I was disqualified from racing up until I finally made an appeal. This season is my first racing season in 6 years."

He waits.

He hears shuffling, but nothing else.

"You have to believe me. If I lose you too... i have nothing left."

Nothing.

You don't say anything. The door does not open. He steps back in defeat. He doesn't know what else he can do, what else he can say.

Except, "If you still hold feelings for me, then please be at the next race. If you come, I'll know you'll forgive me. I know you'll still love me. If you don't, then I will never bother you again. I'll know that I have ruined everything and I will live with that regret until the day I die."

He takes a deep breath and steps away further.

"I love you. I want you to know that. I love you."

You cry silently as you listen to him walk away. It's not until you're sure he has gone when you let your cries out.

On your coffee table sat your laptop. As soon as you got home, you had been researching what had happened that day.

There was no evidence.

Just articles and speculation.

The fact that you even believed for a moment he had killed a young man like that made you sick. How horrible of a person could you be?

Helmut deserved someone better than that.

He has spent so many years living with a tragic accident over him, and you hadn't even talked to him about it.

You felt awful.

You spent most of the night heartbroken. Sleep eventually paid you a visit, but it was hardly restful. You just woke up in pain.

Race day was coming fast.

What were you going to do?

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @gingerwriter97 @lunamooney2406 @wilder-fangirl @nectav @whovianayesha @thesuitkovian @cathrin2405 @deathtothepatriarchy @belle82devart @dxrksxul06 @killeromanoff @alex-the-nb @latenightartist-author @hb8301 @goddessofmischief03 @xxidontwikeitxx @themeanestlittlewitch @scuttle-buttle @fillechatoyante @lucky-luck-lucky @zemosimp420 @avengersofmischief @breadsquash

#helmut zemo x reader #zemo x reader #zemo #helmut zemo #baron helmut zemo #marvel #AU

[metanoiamorii]

Wip Re-Introduction: A Rope In Hand

❛Horror is like a serpent; always shedding its skin, always changing. And it will always come back. It can’t be hidden away like the guilty secrets we try to keep in our subconscious.❜

♧ Title: A Rope In Hand [ARIH]

♧ Status: First Drafting

♧ Point of View: Third Person, flexible between a few

♧ Genre: Dark Fantasy, Supernatural, LGBTQ+, Action, Drama

♧ Warnings: This story revolves around the occult. There will be talk of witch hunts and trials and cults. There will be torture methods used to gain confessions, and these methods will be justified under religious belief. There will be toxic and abusive relationships, particularly family; finding an escape from them, and healing from the trauma. There will be homophobia, transphobia, misogyny, and colonization. There will be major character deaths, but I can spoil after the book ends the main characters do get a happy ending. Each chapter and scene posted will have personalized warnings, but these are the main things to expect.

♧ Featuring: The majority of the characters will be LGBTQ+, from pansexual, homosexual, to asexual; genderfluid, agender/nonbinary, and transgender. Each character is complex and morally grey. Yes, they will do things that are blatantly terrible, or actively good. Overall, they will be morally grey and questionable at best. There will be complex world-building, from both the universe it takes place in, and the religious pantheons brought up. The religions brought up will be polytheistic and animism-themed. The romance between the major characters will be slow-burn enemies to friend to lovers, and them learning to love themselves through one another. There will be an exploration on generational healing, and unlearning toxic, and bias believes.

♧ Setting: The setting is influenced by Victorian London, and Medieval Ireland. There will be mention of other places, primarily western Europe, the Ottoman Empire, Ancient Rome, Eastern Asia, and Napoleonic France.

♧ Synopsis:

In the town of Arkaley, in the northwest of the Duchy of Ruairc, the people have been plagued by bad fortune and crime. Attacks of bandits on the road, raids from pirates on the shores, untimely deaths of children and young women, elected officials coming out corrupt; there is no end in Arkaley of the suffering the locals endure.

Rationally, to explain such a bad string of luck, there is only one possible explanation: Witchcraft.

The Duchy of Ruairc already has a history of witchcraft: the Ó Ruaircs turned out to be witches, the Abondé incident in Salem, the Liathain incident in Trakee; the Ruaircs have their record. Perfectly acceptable for everyone to assume the worse of the Ruairish, as they have proved to be nothing but.

To prove his worth, the young Reverend Prudence Clemency Frye, takes up the task of quelling this coven of witches and heading this witch-hunt. Young and naïve, witch only knowledge from books and little hands-on experience, he’s unprepared for this challenge. When he finally leaves the town, well… everyone would rather put this incident behind them.

♧ Tease:

My darling dear, a knave so clear

You appear, so bravely near;

Do you hear my darling dear, sneers of austere jeers?

Behave, my dear, when I am near;

For peers will lear, in their fear,

Allow me o' dear our persevere

So my fave you appear

And volunteer a slave so dear 

in an atmosphere we fear.

my darling dear, wave so clear

Depravely as we leave, and give a souvenir;

My lips to yours, as you crave in these fallin' years. 

Be brave darling dear, and give into hearts o' queer.

For mine you be, your darling dear, 

To the stars you have swore in love, so crystal clear.

My peers shall sneer, but whore I be, and you I crave

Oh so bare. slurs and glares, just listen to my prayers.

Kiss me love, and leave o'they to a'crave 

In this atmosphere that we fear

Their own, o' pure, knave so dear.

♧ Excerpt:

".... This is wrong." Prudence finds the words slipping from his lips, voice a quiet whisper; a breathless tone of voice. He allows his fingertips to falter against scarred skin, watching as Mastema turned his cheek, he pressed himself into the palm of Prudence's hand. Eyes closed, a smile curled on his face. Prudence couldn't help but smile at the scene, but slowly, slowly, slowly, he rescinded his hand; breaking the hold.

"Revered..." Matching his voice, Mastema replied. Maintaining such a soft voice, as he shifted himself forward on the bed. One foot to the ground, the other drawn beneath himself. Over Prudence he leaned, resting one palm to the sheets, the other lifting to seize Prudence's hand before he could recoil back. "You have made me feel something in which I've never felt before..."

From where he laid, Prudence could only form a soft frown. He knew he could draw his hand back, the grip was far from tight. But he didn't. He laid there, allowing Mastema to hold his hand. "... This is wrong, Mastema."

Mastema frowned; he matched the reaction Prudence wore. Through it, he forced a half-smile, tightening his grip on the other's hand, and forward he brought Prudence's hands to kiss the knuckles. "... If this is wrong, I do not wish to be right."

At the response, Prudence shook his head. "It is not for us to be right or wrong, the gods—"

At the angle he sat, Mastema shifted once more. He dropped Prudence's hand, to lean forward; to lean in close. Both of his palms found the other's cheek, as he touched their foreheads to one another. "... Do not force your will onto another." In that soft whisper, he spoke. Eyes closed, breath drawn in. "Is that not a Commandment of our Creator?"

"I..." Prudence faltered. In, he drew his breath, to try to steady himself. "... I did not take you for the religious sorts."

"I'm not." Mastema all too quickly retorted. But as he was, he laid; this proximity. "But you are."

♧ Characters:

The Order of Witchesbane

Prudence Clemency Frye; The Reverend

Half Fae/Half Human • Intersex • Genderfluid • He/They • Homosexual • Homo-demiromantic

The bastard son of Lord Zachariah Frye. Raised by his father, with his mother dying young, he took to following in his footsteps. He became a religious young man and an active witch-hunter. A part of him desires his father’s acceptance, his praises; the other part despises his father and everything the man stands for. In recent years, he has joined the De La Cruz household, becoming an apprentice beneath the famous Witch’s Advocate; upholding the beliefs that not every witch is evil and has foul intentions, and the ones that mean harm are the only ones that should be hunted.

Zachariah Frye; The Bloodhound

Human • Male • He/Him • Bicurious • Aromantic

The oldest living member of the Order. Now he is the man that holds the face of the Order, who you think of when they come to mind. Cold. Vindictive. Despotic. Violent. He is not a good man. He is firm in his beliefs and stubborn to change. Once his mind is made up, he cannot be reasoned with. He is blindly convinced of his beliefs and his cause to eradicate every living witch, unfazed if he has to fill a few innocent thousands in the process.

Calisto Ferzan Hermengildo Melchior Lorencio De La Cruz; The Witch’s Advocate

Half Fae/Half Human • Amab • Nonbinary • Genderfluid • He/They • Asexual • Aromantic

A witch-hunter in title alone, Calisto has been making enemies since he could first talk. He’s always enjoyed being the underdog, going against the expectations of society, being ridiculed by his peers. The sole reason? Proving them wrong. To ridicule his own peers for their outdated beliefs, he’s taken to defending witches, proving them innocent of their ‘crimes’, and going on to help them to set up a life in a country more accepting of witchcraft

The servant of Calisto, never seen far from his side. He is a servant in name alone and is more-or-less an assassin, a hitman for Calisto. Held in contempt by Athylian society for being a foreigner, he often treated by others more as a slave than a servant. To help be unseen, to help the De La Cruz Household, Michelotto endures the treatment and goes as far to be perceived as ignorant, alongside him being born a mute. Keeping his true intents and intelligence duly guarded, only a handful are aware he is also a witch.

Myk'loumihr [Michelotto Dougal] Siavash; The Man-Servant

Witch; Amab • Agender • He/They • Asexual • Aromantic

Austin Duvine; The Lord Without A Ring

Half-Human/Half Fae • Amab • Nonbinary • He/They • Pansexual • Demiromantic

One of the younger members of the order, Austin relies on his father's wealth and name. He doesn't care for responsibilities, he doesn't care for hard work. He's a playboy at heart. He's fit to hold social events, and use his natural talent to gib and fib his way through life. He'll keep his mixed feelings to himself, struggling with doing the right thing or upholding tradition.

Alistair Lavine; The Witchfinder General

Human • Amab • Agender • He/They • Bicurious • Aromantic

The best friend to Zachariah and his right hand. Where Zachariah is business and lacks charms, Alistair can charm a crowd and hold their attention. He knows how to feign being an ideal human, without letting on his own bloodlust; he's a monster in human skin. At the end of the day, unlike Zachariah, Alistair does have morals and standards he will abide by, even if they come back to ruin him.

━━━━━━━━━━

The Vakari Coven

Ausrine Baoghal; The Lady

Witch • Female • She/Her • Bisexual • Aromantic

The woman in charge of the town, widowed and inheriting the right to rule as her husband had no heirs. She is a manipulative and dangerous woman, eager to commit any sin or crime for more power. She, in truth, cares only for herself and would feel no remorse if she had to turn on one of her coven to further her own agenda.

The magistrate and also the chief policeman of the town. He maintains a  calm, but manipulative personality. As a front, he presents himself to be fair and just, liked and favored by the people for genuinely caring for them. While in truth he has his own heinous and sinister agenda, aiding Ausrine in her plans.

Leary O'Laoghaire; The Magistrate

Witch • Male • He/Him • Bicurious • Aromantic

The oldest member of the coven, Dairine lives under the guise of an elderly woman, who lives alone with her children and grandchildren already leaving her to live their own lives. She is a kind and understanding woman and cares for the younger witches in the coven. She will not support Baríon with her agenda, nor does she care for the servant girl, she even despises the so-called ally Ausrine claims to have and who they all adhere to.

Dairine Ó Séaghdha; The Crone

Witch • Afab • Agender • She/They • Asexual • Aromantic

The acting servant of Barion, Anisha’s true loyalties lie elsewhere. She stays within the town, serving the coven while acting as the eyes and ears of someone, the person who is truly pulling the strings. She is the one to relay information and letters between the coven and her master.  She is a quiet woman, that keeps her head down and her mind to herself. She only shows her true, confident and demanding, nature behind closed doors with the coven when they dare to question her.

Anisha Kaur; The Servant

Witch • Afab • Demigirl • She/They • Asexual • Aromantic

The charming son of Leary. Many whisper that is part fae, due to his charm, if it’s true or not many are unaware. He is a very sophisticated young man, that has managed to wrap the entire town around his finger. While on the surface he is alike his father is a caring, compassionate, charming young man, something sinister brews beneath. He is devious, demanding, domineering.

Nathir O'Laoghaire; The Magistrate’s Son

Half-Witch/Half-Fae • Amab  • Agender • He/Him • Bisexual • Aromantic

Being the baker's daughter, Liannah helps around the bakery and family business. Unlike the company she keeps, she is a reserved young woman. She is polite and maintains her manners with whomever she is dealing with. She has the patience of a saint and rarely loses her cool. Liannah is a woman with a calm demeanor about her, being a woman many are comfortable around due to her peaceful and calm aura.

Liannah Ó Buachalla; The Baker’s Daughter

Witch • Afab • Genderfluid • She/They • Asexual • Panromantic

Ausrine's bastard son she had with a spirit she bargained with for more power. Since he was young, he was raised by the servants of the house, and the coven, over his own mother; the two have more of a business relationship over a family one. Since he cares less about what his mother does, he spends his time with Liannah and Reyes, either at the bakery or getting into trouble somewhere. With Reyes as an influence, Mastema is a flirtatious man that enjoys scandals and making the most of life

Mastema Baoghal; The Knave

Half-Witch/Half-Spirit • Amab • Genderfluid • He/They • Pansexual • Demiromantic

Rochan Misra; The Charlatan

Half-Witch/Half-Spirit • Amab • Queer • He/She • Pansexual • Aromantic

A foreigner to the Coven, born and raised in the Duchy of Incali. At a young age, he became a traveling charlatan, recently settling within the coven only as he befriended Liannah and Mastema and enjoyed their company. Now, he is the local bad influence: scamming locals out of their money at the taverns, wooing and seducing young men and ladies alike, always trespassing and vandalizing something. He is trouble but has a heart of gold when it matters.

ARIH: : @hekat-ie, @writings-of-a-narwhal, @silent-creed

━━━━━━━━━━

Taglist:

General: @endlesshourglass, @writerray, @poore-choice-of-words, @alexwritesfiction, @primusesgiantmetalballbearings

Both: @cecilsstorycorner, @little-boats-on-a-lake, @hazard-writes, @egg-shark

#Wip intro #wip introduction #writing community #writeblr #writeblr community #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #original writing #original story #fantasy #fantasy writing #fantasy writer #Morri's collection #Morri's Fish Tank #Wip: A Rope In Hand #Wip: ARIH #Witches #witchcraft #occult #dark fantasy #supernatural #My writing #My wip #My edits #Again I said redo an intro #But a new aesthetic #I'm kind of liking this one #So I'll probably redo them all.. #Again

[uas-fics]

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

Read on AO3

Title: How to Train A Champion and Keep Your Reputation Intact

Summary: Piers doesn’t want to coach Leon, but the last thing Piers needs is for everyone to know a cool punk like him used to perform in Pokemon Contests! If it means keeping his reputation intact, he’ll begrudgingly teach this ray of sunlight what he knows.

Fandom: Pokemon Sword and Shield

Ships: LeonxPiers | dnnz

Rating: T

Contest Warnings: N/A

Chapter 1: The Early Morning Visitor

----

Of the people Piers expected to be sitting across his kitchen table at eight in the morning, the former champion was not one of them. Leon wasn't even in the top ten, yet here he was, twiddling his thumbs behind a cup of tea with a peppy expression on his face.

Piers was barely a human being this early, yet Leon seemed to have the same energy as a particularly bushy-tailed skwovet.

"You have a nice kitchen," Leon commented, more to fill the silence than an actual compliment.

Piers glanced at the pile of take-out containers on the counter then the singular shoe that hadn't made it to his room with its partner the night before. His kitchen was nothing spectacular, and it didn't need to be. His home was a place to crash or bring a date, not some fancy townhouse. With only he and Marnie there, why should he bother fancying the place up?

"What do you want, Leon?" Piers took a sip of his tea.

Leon wrapped his fingers around his cup but didn't move to drink. If Leon would have preferred coffee, he could have said something before Piers poured him a cup. It'd be a waste to pour it down the drain.

"Well, it's a little silly, but I could use your help with something," Leon explained.

Piers narrowed his eyes.

Leon was the chairman of the Pokemon League. Piers gave his gym over to Marnie after the last Champion tournament. What could he want Piers to help with at this point? The only connection he had with the League was Marnie.

Unless...

"I swear if you're goin' to pull the same shit as Rose did and try to get me to make Marnie move the gym—"

"No, no, nothing like that!" Leon raised his hands, palms facing out. "It has nothing at all to do with Spikemuth or the gym."

"Then what does it have to do with?" Piers leaned back and crossed his arms.

"Uh, well, alright," Leon didn't meet his eyes, "it's about a rumor."

Piers' frown deepened. He always had rumors about him floating about. It came with his persona.

"I heard Piers beat a man to a pulp because he spilled his drink on him." or "I heard Piers took three girls back to his home and made them leave before the sun was even up." or he was a dealer of rare hallucinogenic flowers or that he used his pokemon to break into Rose's office and peed in a potted plant behind his desk.

There was rarely any truth to the rumors. He didn't care to squash them. He was a dark-type trainer, having everyone thinking he was a bigger badass than he already was could not hurt his reputation.

"C'mon, mate, aren't you a little old to be listenin' to rumors?" Piers cocked an eyebrow.

"It's not a bad rumor.”

"What's the rumor then?"

"Ah, well, I heard," He paused to clear his throat, "that you, ah, that you competed in pokemon contests when you were younger—and that you won."

Piers barely kept his face deadpan.

Where had Leon heard that? Those contests happened just before posting on the internet boomed, so it wasn't like the contests were live-streamed and archived. The only video that he knew existed of his contest days hid in a box in the back of a closet. Marnie captured it when she could barely see over the railings at the stadiums. Even then, the video quality was terrible and Marnie kept moving the camera around. He looked like a black and white blob in them.

He forced himself to calm down. He could easily deny this rumor. No one would believe he, Piers, former Spikemuth gym leader, head of Team Yell, the fierce trainer of powerful dark-types, would ever compete in a pokemon contest.

"Where did you hear that?" Piers reached for his tea just to have something in his hands.

What credibility did this rumor spreader have? Probably none. Denying this would be easy.

"Oh, I heard your sister mention it."

Piers nearly dropped his cup.

Shit.

He could not deny this, not without putting Marnie's credibility on the line. She was still a new gym leader. The last thing she needed was the chairman thinking she was a gossip.

He hissed out a breath. "Oh, did she?"

"Yeah, she was talking to Opal while Bede filled out some papers," Leon told him. "She said she remembered you used to be good at pokemon contests. That's why I'm here."

"So what?" Piers spat. "It isn't illegal, now is it?"

Why couldn't this have been about Malamar scaring passers-by on Route 7 when he was bored? Why could this have been about the rave Piers helped throw in an abandoned mine last month? Why could it have been about pissing in the potted plant? Why couldn't this have been about anything else?!

Leon frowned. "Of course not—"

"Then why are you askin' me about it?"

"Because I wanted your help to win one."

Piers' mouth gaped. Did he hear that right? Leon, the former champion, one of the strongest pokemon trainers in all of Galar, wanted to enter a pokemon contest.

He stuck a finger in his ear and twisted it.

"Sorry, say that again. I must have somethin' in my ear. I didn't just hear you ask for help in a pokemon contest."

"That is what I asked." Leon beamed. "There is one in Ballonlea in two weeks and I want to enter, but I don't know the first thing about them. If you know, you could help me—if you want to, that is."

"Why?" Piers held back from pinching himself. How was this not a dream? Maybe he was messing with hallucinogenic flowers after all.

Reaching into his pocket, Leon took out a folded piece of lavender paper. He laid it flat on the table, smoothing it with the side of his hand, before pushing it over. The faint scent of roses wafted from it.

"All are invited to the first Bellonlea Pokemon Contest!" It read in a flowing, elegant font. "Coordinators of all ages and skill levels are invited to the Bellonlea Stadium to participate in a Pokemon Contest. Please contact the Bellonlean Ladies' Society for more details and how to enter."

"Was this ‘ppose to explain somethin'?" Piers pushed the flyer back. "Why do you want to win a contest?"

"That prize, of course!" Leon took his phone from his pocket. He scrolled a moment then turned the screen to Piers.

A picture of a red and white hat with a black logo stared back. It honestly looked like something an overly-excited ten-year-old would win from a cereal box drawing.

"It's a hat." Piers peered over the top of the phone to look at the hat Leon already had on.

"It's not just a hat. It's a limited edition!" Leon pulled his phone back. "I had one when I was a little kid, but I lost it to an angry corvisquire. The first place in the beginner contest wins it."

"And you can't just, you know, buy one for yourself?" He rolled his hand. "I know you have sponsorships out your ass." Piers looked down pointedly at his Spikemuth Chamber of Commerce shirt for emphasis.

Leon shrugged. "What fun is that?"

Piers downed half his drink in one go. The burn on his throat reassured him he wasn't dreaming.

"Piers?" Leon leaned over the table, his face alight with a smile. "Can't I talk you into helping me out? Please? I promise to owe you one after this."

Piers groaned. What choice did he have? He couldn't deny it without hurting Marnie's reputation. Their reputation used to be the only valuable he and Marnie had to their names, besides each other. Lying to Leon to save his own skin was not an option.

"Yeah, yeah, alright." Piers raised his hands in defeat. "Fine. I'll do it, but," he held a finger up in Leon's face, "you have to swear on your life that you won't tell a soul about it. I don't need anyone thinkin’ I ever put any of my pokemon in a frilly suit or made them dance around like pretty ballerinas or some shit."

Leon nearly jumped across the table. He put his hands on Piers' shoulders and squeezed a little too hard.

"Thanks a million for this!" He hopped up. "Where should we train? I think I understand the rules, but maybe we should go over the rules first? Or outfit—"

"Tomorrow." Piers cut him off. "We'll start tomorrow."

Leon's face fell like a growlithe that just had his bone taken from him. Piers held his sad gaze. Marnie's morpoko did the same pout when she wanted something, and Piers knew better than to give in.

If Leon still wanted to learn how to be a coordinator, he had to prove himself first. A day would be enough time for Piers to think up obstacles to make Leon forget about the silly notion. Contests, despite the stereotype, were hard work. While beginner contests weren't all that complicated, Piers didn't mind sprinkling in some of the more difficult to grasp bits from the higher tiers. With any luck that would confuse Leon right out of the idea and out of Piers' life.

Leon took a breath. He pulled his hands from Piers and squared his shoulders.

"I'll meet you back here at eight sharp tomorrow and then we can get started."

"No. You'll meet me outside Spikemuth at noon."

"Oh, well, alright. It'll be a champ—" Leon caught himself from using his old catchphrase. "It'll be a fun time."

"That's one way to think of it," Piers muttered, feeling less and less enthused at the arrangement by the second.

----

True to his word, Leon stood outside the front gate of Spikemuth at noon on the dot. He perked up when he saw Piers and jumped in front of him.

"Good afternoon, Teacher Piers."

He winked.

Piers wrinkled his nose.

"Call me that again, and I'm callin' this off."

Leon laughed nervously. "Sorry." He whistled. "Sooooo, what should I learn first? How to use music? Or pose? I'm already pretty good at that."

"How about the rules?"

Piers waved him to follow down the road towards the Spikemuth Tunnel. People were less likely to eavesdrop on them if they walked.

"Alright, rules. I know there are two rounds, and each trainer uses only one pokemon."

"Coordinator," Piers corrected sharply.

He promised to teach, but he didn't promise to be entirely pleasant while doing it.

"Yeah. There are two rounds. The first round is the Performance Stage. You show off your pokemon's appeal with a choreographed set of moves. The judges will assign points based on how well the performance fits into particular categories."

Piers began to ramble on about the different move categories as if the contest in Bellonlea would be so complicated. Beginner contests weren't judged by the five categories individually like higher-ranked contests.

Back when Galar still had a contest circuit, the people in beginner contests were kids with weak pokemon that might only know two or three moves. A performance with a cool move first and a cute move next wouldn't be judged as harshly as the first rank contest would.

However, Leon didn't need to know that. If he thought that the category system was complicated and—in Piers' humble opinion—limited and stupid, maybe he would back out.

"And that's all there is to the appeals rules." Piers looked at Leon, expecting him to be confused and dejected at the long-winded explanation, but instead found him holding onto every word.

"Well, that doesn't seem too hard." He nodded. "It's just putting on a show in a time limit with your partner. Easy."

"We'll see how easy you think it is when you're doing it." Piers stood under a shade tree. "The next round is the harder one. It's the battle round."

"Battle? I thought contests were for show, not for fighting."

Piers cackled at the genuine confusion on Leon's face. Of course, he would think that. That silly stereotype about contests never seemed to die, did it? Coordinators didn't just train their pokemon to teach them new moves. Their partner had to be strong to last the battles against one another. Even though Piers was a gym leader when he did contests, he still struggled against the stronger opponents.

He idly grabbed a lower branch and bent it down. If he didn’t slouch, Piers was tall enough that he could just about reach into the pokemon nest a few branches up with relative ease.

"You would think that, wouldn't you?" He opened his hand.

The branch whipped up and hit the branch the nest was on. The skwovet in the nest jumped with a squeak. Its sudden movement knocked a sitrus berry over the side.

"In the second round, two coordinators battle to remove points from the opponent, usin' moves that fall into the contest categories." He snatched the sitrus berry out of the air.

The skwovet glared at Piers. Piers smirked at it before wiping the berry on his shirt. The pokemon chattered and hurried higher into the tree.

Leon frowned at Piers' interaction with the skwovet. Piers met his gaze, daring him to comment on it.

Leon cleared his throat. "That wasn't necessary."

"It was an accident."

Leon pursed his lips in doubt but didn't argue. Instead, he said, "So it's a battle, but it's an entertaining battle. I can do that."

Around a bite of berry, Piers shrugged, "It's a five-minute battle, but the point of the battle isn't to knock out your opponent with the first move. No one needs to faint. It's to show that your pokemon is better than theirs."

Piers half-expected Leon to go on about how no pokemon was better than another, instead, Leon stroked his chin in thought. Maybe Leon realized that a contest wouldn't be as fun as he thought and wanted to give up on the idea.

The branches above shook and the skwovet chattered. A leppa berry slammed into the ground near Piers' boot. The skwovet, arm loaded with unripe leppa berries, held up another. It threw it. Piers took a step to the side.

"Nice try," he mocked. The skwovet's fur bristled. It tossed down the rest of its armful and missed every time. With a huff, it stomped back towards its nest to rustle through its hoard.

"Alright. I think I can handle this," Leon said, moving into Piers' personal space and lifting his arm over Piers' head, "with your help."

Grinning, he stepped back then opened his fist to present an oran berry. The skwovet cried out in frustration. Piers rubbed the top of his head. He glanced up at the wild pokemon once more before walking away from the tree, with Leon in tow. It was best not to test his luck anymore. The skwovet might use a move on him and the last thing he wanted was to spend the night picking slobbery bullet seeds out of his hair.

The skwovet angrily chattered but seemed to give up. It hurried down the tree to gather its berries. Leon crouched to roll the oran berry over. The skwovet eyed him but snatched the berry up to shove into its cheeks anyway.

Piers raised an eyebrow. Maybe this training wouldn't be as bad as he thought.

----

The training area outside Spikemuth wasn't much, just a patch of barren earth that trainers from Spikemuth would come to battle when they didn't feel like using the gym. Currently, the only souls there were Piers and Leon. Since Marnie took over as gym leader, the younger trainers of the city moved their training back to the gym.

"They didn't want to come when you were the gym leader. They think you're scary," Marnie had explained. "Dunno why though. You're about as scary as a teddisuara."

Piers crossed his arms. "Do you know which pokemon you're goin' use? These are Hoenn rules, so you can only use one."

Leon tapped the pokeballs at his belt. "I'm not sure. I didn't think I could go in with Charizard, so I didn't bring him with me."

"Why not Charizard?"

"Everyone knows what my Charizard looks like," Leon explained. "And I don't think I can pretend not to be me if I use him."

Piers' brows furrowed. What in the world was he talking about?

Upon seeing Piers' expression, Leon chuckled to himself.

"I guess I forgot to tell you." He put his hands on his hips and set his feet a shoulder-width apart. "I'm going to do this contest in disguise."

The hope Piers just acquired vanished.

"You're what?"

"I'm going in disguise," He repeated. "I was the champion, and now I'm chairman. That would give me an unfair advantage, don't you think?"

Piers pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course, Leon would want to win on a level playing field. The Bellonean Ladies' Society would probably just give him the stupid hat if he promised to simply show up and bring more attention to the event. If he did that, Piers could have stayed at home and lazed about, but, noooo, Leon had to win his silly hat fair and square.

"How do you plan to do that?"

"Well, I hoped you could help me with that, too." Leon pointed to his face. "I've seen your stage makeup, and you're talented. I bet you could make me look like a different person."

Piers hated that he couldn't argue with that. Not long after he decided to follow his dream of being a punk star, one of the gym trainers offered to teach him the basics of cosmetics. Once he had the basics down, it only took a year of using his pokemon, friends, and Marnie as test subjects for him to perfect his art.

He could easily make Leon's face look different enough: soften his cheekbones, maybe a few freckles, pull his bangs back, color contacts, and glasses...Leon would look good in glasses, even if it meant hiding his natural eye color...

Piers shook his head. He hadn't agreed to anything but training for the contest. He was not giving Leon a makeover like they were preteens at a slumber party.

Leon pursed his lips. "It would be pointless if I won because of who I am. That wouldn't be fair to the other train—coordinators."

"No. Figure that out yourself."

Leon sighed, his shoulders slumped. He muttered under his breath, something Piers couldn't make out. Finally, he straightened and shrugged.

"You know, I have to approve the budgets for each gym provided by the league," he lifted one finger and wagged it as he continued, "and wouldn't it be nice if Spikemuth got a little extra in their budget so their new gym leader could fix up her gym stadium? I know the Spikemuth Chamber of Commerce can't always give too much to the gym, and it needs a few repairs."

Piers' mouth fell a gape. Did Leon just try to bribe him through his sister? He had to admit, he was impressed. It wasn't the best bribery offer he'd ever been given, but considering whom the offer came from and what Marnie would get in return, he decided to give in.

"Make sure the gym gets enough to replace the crumplin’ stadium walls, and I'll do it." Piers stuck out his hand.

Leon took the offered hand in his and shook once. "I knew you'd have a change of heart."

Piers yanked his hand back. "Change of heart my ass. Just send out your pokemon."

With a nod, Leon let out each of his pokemon in turn: Aegislash, Haxorus, Dragapult, Mr. Rime, Seismatoad, then Rhyperior. True to his word, he hadn't brought his ace pokemon with him. Like a well-oiled machine, they quickly lined up and turned their full attention to their trainer.

Pride rolled off Leon as he gazed at his team. Up until last year, this team was undefeated. Leon kept them at their best and even Piers could call that admirable.

"Alright everyone, listen here." Leon clapped his hands as if any of them didn't have their eyes on him. "Remember how I said we were going to enter a contest? Well, only one of you can enter it with me."

Leon's Mr. Rime leaned on his cane and Aegislash shifted his shield, though the other pokemon didn't react one way or another to the news.

"Contests aren't like normal battling. They're a performance." Leon gestured to Piers. "Piers is going to help pick the best one of you for the contest."

Piers snorted. "Oh, didn't I tell you? I'm not assessin' your team."

Leon's hand dropped to his side. He tilted his head.

"You're not?"

"No."

Piers took out the only pokeball he had on him. With a flick of the wrist, he released his own contest partner. The stench of rotten eggs filled the air. Everyone but Piers jerked back to cover their noses.

Skuntank shook himself out. He stretched his front paws forward then pulled the rest of his body up like a cat in a sunbeam. Piers crouched down and patted his partner between the ears.

"Skuntank here won nearly every contest he entered," Piers explained. "He knows more about them than even I do, I'd say. Even keeps track of the Sinnoh contests online. If anyone can give this team a proper assessment, it'll be him."

Skuntank lifted his head proudly then stomped forward. He stalked up, down, and around the line, eyeing each pokemon. He stopped in front of Haxorus, narrowed his eyes, and rumbled. Haxorus shuffled nervously. She looked to her team members then back at Skuntank. Siesmatoad shrugged, and Dragapult looked away.

Satisfied, Skuntank trotted back to Piers. He took a breath and stated something to the pokemon, loud and clear.

The other pokemon were taken aback. They muttered amongst themselves, all except Mr. Rime and Aegislash. With his chest puffed out, Mr. Rime strode forward. A moment later, Aegislash floated next to him. The rest of the team remained still.

"That's the two to choose from," Piers said. To the other members of Leon's team, he continued, "You can go over there. Take a rest why don't you?" He jabbed his thumb towards the grass at the side of the training area.

Without missing a beat, Dragapult floated away, soon followed by Siesmatoad, Haxorus, and Rhyperior.

Leon gasped. "That's amazing. How does Skuntank know?"

It wasn't as if Skuntank could smell contest talent on Mr. Rime and Aegislash. It just so happened that when Skuntank asked, Mr. Rime and Aegislash wanted to enter a contest. The rest weren't interested.

Ignoring Leon's question, Piers asked, "How do you want to decide between these two."

Leon blinked. "Isn't that what Skuntank is here for?"

With a thump, Skuntank flopped to the ground, paws under his chin, and shut his eyes.

"He's filled his quota." Piers said. "This is your job, Mr. Chairman."

Leon stroked his chin. He crouched down between his pokemon. Mr. Rime tapped his feet and spun his cane. Leon lifted his eyebrows at the impromptu performance. Not to be outdone, Aegislash held his shield up and spun it on the end of his arm. He tossed the shield then expertly caught it.

Mr. Rime danced backward. He spun in a circle, holding his cane up to the sky. From the tip of the cane, snow flurried around him, glittering like tiny diamonds.

Aegislash, upon seeing Leon's dazzled expression at Mr. Rime's performance, clanged his shield and blade together. With his trainer's attention back on him, Aegislash whipped his arm out. The shield rolled out on its side into the middle of the battle area. In the blink of an eye, Aegislash descended into his shadow. Using shadow sleek, he hurried in front of the shield.

Aegislash burst from the ground, large and dark. He whipped the shield up. the sun glinted off the polished metal. Contrasted against Aegislash's dark form, the shining shield appeared like a bright star in the night sky.

Leon's mouth fell a gape. "Wow, I didn't know you could do that, Aegislash."

Aegislash returned to his normal appearance and smugly shurgged. Mr. Rime stomped his foot in frustration. He put his fingers to his mouth and whistled for Leon to look at him. Once again, his cane spun. Around him, aurous panes of light screen appeared then frosted over. Mr. Rime stopped and raised his arms. The light screen panes shot up and burst like fireworks.

Aegislash bristled. His grip on his shield tightened and his single eye narrowed. Mr. Rime sneered at him as Leon carefully picked up the frozen light screen fragments to examine.

Piers clapped his hands once. "Don't you lot make this a battle." To Leon, he ordered, "You need to pick one."

Leon stood. "But they're both really talented."

From behind them, Skuntank snorted. Aegislash and Mr. Rime turned their glares from each other to the dark-type.

Piers agreed with Leon, even if his pokemon didn't, but leaving those two to keep one-upping each other wouldn't end well. Leon had to pick a partner for the contest, even if it would hurt someone's feelings.

Leon thought on his choice then slumped forward with a sigh. He rummaged in his pocket and held up a coin.

"I can't decide," he admitted. "Heads for Mr. Rime and tails for Aegislash."

He flicked the coin into the air. Like the oran berry before, he caught it from the air. With a hard smack that made the top of Pier's hand hurt, Leon slapped it on the top of his hand. Aegislash and Mr. Rime stood tense as Leon slowly lifted his hand.

"Heads."

Mr. Rime jumped up with joy. Aegislash dropped his shield to the ground with a thud. Leon reached out to comfort him, but Aegislash waved him away. Dragging his shield through the dirt, he trudged towards the other pokemon.

Skuntank lumbered back to his feet. He intercepted Aegislash. Skuntank rumbled at Aegislash. He silently mulled over what Skuntank said then lifted his shield from the ground.

In a voice like clashing metal, Aegislash yelled at Mr. Rime. Mr. Rime stumbled in his tap dancing, looking shocked at what his teammate said. Skuntank cackled, slapping the ground with his paw. With his mood improved considerably, Aegislash led Skuntank away to join the other pokemon.

----

Mr. Rime was a showman. Even with the occasional heckle from Skuntank, he and Leon managed to cobble together the start of an alright appeal round. After Piers finally admitted that the move categories meant shit all for the beginner contests, Leon decided to make use of what Mr. Rime already presented: sparkling snow and unique uses of psychic power.

Piers, for his part, offered critique when he saw a move that might be too showy or too dull, but mostly left Leon to his own devices. After all, Leon was the one entering, not him.

A thunderbolt tore through an icy column, shattering it. A glow of psychic power protected some of the ice from the heat. When the mist cleared, what remained was the carving of the Champion's logo.

Leon pumped his fist. "There we go!"

Skuntank muttered something to Aegislash, who replied in agreement. Though he hadn't been as loud in his criticism as Skuntank, Aegislash made snide remarks for every misstep.

Piers had more fun watching Skuntank and Aegislash than Leon and Mr. Rime, honestly.

As the heat both from the thunderbolts and the day wore on, Piers was thankful he choose to sit under the shade instead of directly interact with Leon.

Though on the field, he would have had a better view.

Every time Leon raised his shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow, Piers turned his attention towards him. Rehain once mentioned Leon weight trained and exercised to stay as fit as his team, and Piers could tell. He stared at the well-formed muscles usually hidden under Leon’s shirt several times before finally being caught.

“Is something wrong? Is this too much?” Leon gestured to Mr. Rime’s newest ice sculpture.

Piers made up a suggestion to save himself the embarrassment.

“It’s fine, but you’re rushin’. Slow down, if you know how to do that,” Piers replied, turning his head to hide his pink cheeks against his shoulder.

“Oh, alright.” Leon nodded. “Mr. Rime, take a few more seconds before calling down the thunderbolt!”

Stuntank chuckled and Piers sent him a glare.

“Shut up,” he hissed, earning another laugh from Stuntank.

Something pulled at Piers' sleeve. One of Dragapult's dreepy chewed on his jacket. When Piers acknowledged it, it flew in a circle trying to get him to play with it. It went to nip at the end of one of his ponytails.

Dragapult sighed and wrapped his tail around the dreepy to pull it back. He gave Piers an apologetic look.

The rest of Leon's team wasn't doing much better. They were bored out of their minds.

Siesmatoad ripped a clump of grass from the ground and tossed it in her mouth. Rhyperior and Haxorus took turns stabbing leaves through their horns or tusks, seeing who could make the biggest hole without tearing the leaf in half.

Before Leon and Mr. Rime could start again, Piers called, "That's enough for today."

He stood and put his hands on his lower back to stretch. Skuntank grumbled but got to his paws.

"Well, if you say so." Leon came over to the crowd of pokemon with Mr. Rime. "Everyone ready?"

Seismatoad spat out the grass clump, nearly hitting Rhyperior's foot. Dragapult cooed and the rest of his dreepy hoard hurried out of the tall grass. Aegislash refused to look at Mr. Rime, instead of staying close to Stuntank. Haxorus bent forward and pressed the button on her pokeball with her mouth scythe, returning herself.

When Leon took out Aegislash's ball, Piers put a hand on his wrist.

"Before you return him, can I ask you a favor?"

Leon raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Aegislash and Skuntank seem to be havin' fun together. Do you think Aegislash could come back with me for tonight?" Piers asked. Skuntank stamped a foot and wheezed in approval.

Leon lowered Aegislash's pokeball. He bent down so he looked Aegislash in his singular eye.

"Do you want to have a slumber party with Skuntank at Spikemuth?" He spoke like a parent to a child. Mr. Rime snickered. Stuntank kicked sand at him with a short growl.

Piers pulled the bill of Leon's hat down over his eyes.

"Aegislash is probably older than both of us combined," he reminded. "Don't call it a slumber party."

Leon pushed his hat up and wrinkled his brow. Realization crossed his face.

"Ah." He asked Aegislash, "Do you want to have a date with Skuntank at Spikemuth?"

Piers went to pull Leon's hat clean off, but Aegislash took hold of the bill and pulled until it completely covered Leon's face with the bill touching his chin. He rolled his eye and shrugged towards Skuntank. Skuntank snickered and shook his head back in reply.

Leon laughed, taking the hat into his lap. "I'm joking. I'm joking. Sorry." He put a hand on Aegislash's shoulder. "Really, if you want to hang out with Skuntank for the night, you can." He smiled sincerely.

Aegislash paused, eyed his trainer, then seemed to sigh. He took the hat from Leon's hands and set it on his head. He patted his head, like a parent pacifying a child. Aegislash floated by him towards Skuntank.

-----

“Listen up.”

Piers whistled to the crowd of dark-type pokemon around the Spikemuth stadium. All heads turned towards him and the two pokemon by his side.

“This is Aegislash. He’s part of Chairman Leon’s team.” Piers nodded to Aegislash. “He’s visitin' for the night, so don’t be an asshole.”

He sent a pointed look at Malamar, who crossed his tentacles. Malamar only recently got out of trouble for scaring people around Spikemuth. Neither he nor Marnie needed Aegislash going back to Leon traumatized from Malamar's pranks.

The gym pokemon muttered and mumbled to themselves, eyeing Aegislash suspiciously.

Going well so far.

No one jumped to attack or called out an obscenity towards the new pokemon. Already it was going better when Raihan brought his pokemon over to play while he and Piers visited. Not one sucker punch to the back.

Marnie’s Grimsnarl picked up the toy ball and held it protectively. Both scrafty scooted to shield their tower of cards. Obstagoon took his nose out of a bag of crisps for a moment before shoving it right back in. Liepard yawned, purposely exposing her fangs, before laying her head on Toxicroak’s lap. Toxitricity peeked an eye open from his corner then continued strumming his chest. Morpeko jumped off the stage and scurried over to Aegislash and Skuntank.

She greeted them. Skuntank wheezed to her as Aegislash lifted his shield in a hello. Morpeko spoke with Aegislash a moment before turning to the rest of the pokemon. She took a deep breath and shouted to them her approval.

Malamar snorted but uncrossed his tentacles. Grimsnarl slowly took the ball back out. Neither scrafty moved from their hard work. Toxitricity waved idly. Liepard and Toxicroak and Obstagoon didn’t acknowledge the announcement, the former two napping and the latter still stuffing his maw.

Skuntank jerked his head towards Toxitricity's corner of the gym. Aegislash and Morpeko followed after. Grimsnarl and Malamar watched them closely.

Marnie took a bite of her hamburger. Around it, she asked, “Is that really Leon’s aegislash?”

Piers open the bag from Bob’s Your Uncle to dig out his order. “He is. He and Leon’s Mr. Rime got into a fight, and Aegislash wanted to be away.”

“So Leon asked you?” She swallowed.

Piers thought on his feet. “Dark and ghost types are pretty close when you get down to it. Born of night and the deepness of the soul and all that.”

“Shouldn’t he have asked Allister?”

Piers took a bite of his burger and slowly chewed. He swallowed and said, “Kid must have been busy. He’s still got school to go— just like you.” Piers smirked, leaning over. “And how’s that school work going, little sis?”

Marnie blushed. She huffed, snatched the bag from Piers, then marched to the stage at the other end of the stadium.

Even being a gym leader, Marnie still had to go to school like every other kid her age. Since she was still learning to juggle gym leader duties and school, Marnie fell behind in her classes and had to take extra lessons.

Piers had been the same when he took over the gym, but he usually skipped after-school lessons. She complained about the lessons often, and Piers offered an understanding ear.

He wasn’t above using this information against her, though.

With long strides, he followed his sister. He overtook her quickly. Holding his burger between his teeth, Piers hopped onto the stage and sat, his toes brushing the ground. Marnie walked up the steps to sit near him. She purposefully set the bag with their food on the side farthest away from Piers. He leaned across her to fish his chips out of the bag.

They sat in companionable silence, watching the pokemon as they ate their fast food.

When Marnie’s scrafty turned to open another pack of cards for their tower, Malamar raised a tentacle glowing in psychic power. With both scrafty backs to it, a card from the middle of the tower pulled itself out.

Piers’ scrafty gasped and tried to hold the wobbling tower together, but only managed to save the top two cards from falling. As the scrafty started to argue, Grimsnarl went to the wooden crate next to the stage. She sat her ball inside and began to dig through the pokemon toys until she found another ball. This ball was worn and patched up. She wandered over to Malamar to talk.

Skuntank, Toxtricity, and Aegislash lounged against one of the crumbling stadium walls as Morpeko chewed on a berry. They made friendly conversation until Grimsnarl and Malamar came over. Grimsnarl raised her ball.

Skuntank shrugged and spoke to Aegislash. Malamar sneered at Aegislash. Aegislash rolled his eye and pushed himself up. Skuntank slowly lumbered to his feet. Toxtricity shook his head. Morpeko tossed her berry up and caught it in her mouth before standing as well.

Piers nudged Marnie and pointed at the pokemon as they walked to the middle of the stadium.

Grimsnarl tossed the ball and hit it to Skuntank. Skuntank bopped it with his head. The ball dropped towards Aegislash. Aegislash raised an arm to hit it, but Malamar’s tentacle shot out and smacked the ball up. Aegislash snapped something at Malamar, who ignored him.

Piers chuckled to himself as the game of hot potato continued. Every time the ball neared Aegislash, Malamar or Grimsnarl made sure to hit it before he could. Of course, they were testing him. Being on the former champion’s team wasn’t enough to prove Aegislash worthy, even with Stuntank and Morpeko's approval.

Soon Aegislash had enough. When Malamar went to hit the ball for himself, Aegislash shadow sleeked behind him. He burst from the ground and slapped the ball towards Grimsnarl. The attack on her friend took Grimsnarl by surprise. She stumbled back trying to hit the ball but missed. For the first time since the game started, the ball bounced against the floor.

Skuntank cackled. Morpeko chased after the ball. Malamar stared at Aegislash, who held his ground.

Marnie started to push off the stage to break up the fight, but Piers put a hand out to stop her.

After a few tense heartbeats, Malamar coughed a laugh. He covered his beak and shook his head. Grimsnarl took the ball back from Morpeko. Seeing the newfound respect for Aegislash from Malamar, she went back over to the box to switch the worn, old ball, for a nicer ball with a pink and cream polka-dot pattern.

Marnie let out a breath. Piers tossed a chip in his mouth.

He knew things would work out well. Like his trainer, Aegislash was endearing in his determination.

He wondered what Leon was doing while the Spikemuth pokemon played. As late as it was, he was probably home, or maybe he was training with Mr. Rime for the contest. Piers could almost see him now working with Mr. Rime to pose in time with some pop song.

Leon worked hard for what he wanted. It's no wonder he became champ so young and held the title for nearly a decade. If Piers had that kind of drive, he wouldn’t have left Spikemuth fall into disrepair as he did.

He bet he could ask Leon to help him fix up Spikemuth, and not just the gym. The outside walls needed the myriad of penises and breasts painted over. He could do it, but it would be better with some company, particularly with company that had the energy of a sugar-high puppy. Enjoying the outside air, just talking and working—That would be fun. Piers would be willing to wake up early for that.

Piers reached into his chip container absentmindedly but found nothing but salt. He jerked out of his thoughts to see his last two chips disappear—one into Morpeko’s mouth and one into Marnie’s.

“The hell?” He held his hands out towards the empty container.

“Do you have a new girlfriend?” She asked bluntly.

Piers choked on his tongue. “What?” He shook his head. “No! Why would you think that?”

“A boyfriend? A non-binary friend?”

“No,” Piers assured. “I don’t have anyone.”

“Huh.” Marnie scratched Morpeko behind the ears. “You had that look on your face.”

“Look?” Piers’ stomach clenched as he asked, “What look?”

“That look.” Marnie pulled her pokemon to her lap. “The one you get before Morpeko and me find some gushy love song folded up on the living room floor. It happens every time.”

Piers’ ears grew hot. Twice, Marnie found his secret love songs twice. For that reason, he didn’t even write them on scrap paper anymore but in a nondescript notebook in his dresser drawer—which he hadn’t pulled out since he broke up with an ex gym trainer more than a year ago.

Morpeko stuck her tongue out in disgust at finding another love song. She clambered over Marnie’s arms to the chips container. Morpeko licked her paw, dabbed it in the leftover salt, and cleaned her paw before hopping off the stage to rejoin the game.

“I don’t have a look like that.”

“Yes, you do,” Marnie replied in a sing-song voice. “You get this far away look on your face and a little, tiny smile like you’re thinkin' of somethin’ soft. I only see it when you’re datin’ someone or,” her eyes widen in realization, “you gotta crush.”

Piers’ stomach unclenched and fell to his boots.

“You’ve got a crush, dotcha?” His little sister pried. “Who is it? Do they like you back? Can they like you back? Are they a trainer? What’s their pokemon team? Do you see them often?”

Piers' head spun, blurring the rest of Marnie’s inquiries.

No way. He was too old for crushes, for one thing. For two, if Marnie’s theory held any water, then his ‘crush’ would be Leon.

That wasn’t possible.

Sure, he admired Leon’s strength and his determination. His kindness towards pokemon and others was sweet if a little goody-two-shoes. He was much more clever than he first appeared. His athletic frame stole Piers' attention and he wouldn't mind leaning up against that strength-trained chest.

Oh. Arceus. No.

Piers’ face reddened as he cataloged his thoughts. He did have a crush. He had a crush on Leon. Leon was the Chairman of the League. Not only that, he was and still is the poster child for preppy, sporty trainers everywhere. Leon was the goal children were taught to chase if they wanted to compete.

Only the trainers from Team Yell ever wanted to be anything like Piers, a badass who sang to his own song, not the one society dictated.

Sponsors flocked to Leon like mothim to a flame for his perfect public persona.

Only the Spikemuth Chamber of Commerce ever sponsored Piers, and that’s only because they always sponsored the gym leader.

Leon was the light that the world idolized.

He was the darkness that fought back to prove to those that the shadows were protective and safe for people like him. He was a fierce dark-type trainer. He sang punk rock. He had a band of miscreants who would follow his every order.

He could not have a crush on Leon.

Yet, he did.

What if people found out? Arceus, if news got around he wanted some of Leon’s finely toned ass—

“Piers?” Marnie poked his cheek.

He jumped, losing his balance and tumbling off the stage.

At the thud of his fall, the pokemon stopped their game. Obstagoon tossed his crisps bag aside to barrel towards his trainer. He skidded to his knees, dramatically throwing his claws up and crying out as if Piers fell off a ten-story building.

Marnie hopped down. Crouching, she asked, “Did you break your face?”

Piers groaned loudly. “Dark void, open up and swallow me. I no longer want to live in this cruel world that would play my heart like a harp string and snap it with its sick, twisted irony.”

Once Piers went on with his dramatic monologue, the pokemon returned to their games, confident Piers was fine. Obstagoon patted the back of Piers’ head reassuringly.

Marnie crouched next to him. “Is the person you have a crush on that bad? Are they married or,” she lowered her voice, “old?”

“We’re the same age.” Piers didn’t lift his head from the ground. “He’s single as far as I know.”

Marnie poked his cheek. “So what’s the matter? Are you too scared to ask him out?”

“No. It’s worse than that.” Piers crawled into Obstagoon’s lap and leaned his back against the warm, somewhat smelly, fur. Obstagoon wrapped him in a hug. He’d seen his trainer confused and in a pansexual punk panic before. Piers needed all the comfort Obstagoon could give him.

Marnie tucked her legs under her and waited expectantly for Piers to clarify.

He sighed, slumping farther down Obstagoon’s lap. Obstagoon’s arm fur tickled his nose as he buried his face in it.

“I can’t ask him out,” Piers muttered. “He’s my opposite.”

“Opposite?” Marnie echoed.

“Opposite,” Piers repeated. He paused, then said, “I’m punk. He does ballet. What more can I say?”

Her brows furrowed. She opened her mouth, then shut it, opened, shut, then tilted her head with one eyebrow raised.

"He dances?”

Piers rolled his head away. “You kids have no culture.” He sighed. “He’s the kind of person every kid wants to be like. I’m the kind of person kids stop comin’ to community gyms to train because of.”

Marnie hit her fist into her palm. “Oh, I get it. You don’t want to drag down his rep ‘cause people think you’re a lazy delinquent.”

“Hey!” Piers bolted up, right into Obstagoon’s hanging tongue. He wiped the slobber off his forehead with his forearm. He jabbed a finger at Marnie.

“It’s the other way around. He’d pull mine up from a mysterious, cool rebel rocker.”

He cringed at himself. Out loud it sounded childish. What was he, a schoolboy?

Piers flopped back against Obstagoon, grabbed Obstagoon’s arm, and dropped it over his face.

“Suffocate me. Please. I need to die to escape this torment.”

With a humph, Marnie wrapped her arms around Obstagoon’s thick forearm and lifted. She looked down at her brother with a frown.

“That’s it?” She shook her head. “That’s sad.”

“You’re a kid. You don’t understand.” Piers countered, trying to pull Obstagoon’s arm back over his face.

Marnie wrinkled her nose and tugged against Piers’ attempts.

“I am not.” She dug her feet into the ground. “It is sad. If you’re a ‘mysterious, cool, rebel rocker,’ why should you care what anyone thinks?”

Piers dropped his hands to his lap.

Without the opposing force against her, Marnie fell backward, still clinging to Obstagoon’s arm. Instead of letting her fall, Obstagoon lifted his arm, leaving her hanging off the ground. He carefully lowered her, but she kept his arm pressed against her chest.

Piers pushed himself up to his feet. He patted the back of his shirt, throwing black and white fur into the air. Without a word, he headed to the stage and picked up the trash from their food.

“Piers?” Marnie hugged Obstagoon’s arm to her chest. “Are you ok? I didn’t break you, did I?”

Piers turned. “Yeah. Just fine.” He walked back, bag in hand. A smile spread across his face as he reached up and ruffled her hair.

“You’re right. I was being the opposite of cool.” He admitted, prying her hands off Obstagoon's arm. “Thanks for reminding me.”

Marnie was right. He was the cool, fierce master of dark-type pokemon. He became one of the strongest trainers in all of Galar without resorting to Dynamax in a pinch.

Why the hell should he give a flying ratata’s ass about what other people think about who he wants to make out with?

He still didn’t want people knowing about his contest days. The stereotype of elitist snob coordinators still hung too closely to contests. The attraction could excuse Leon, but he didn't have a good enough excuse for dressing skuntank in a tophat and glittery, purple bow tie when he was still a stunky yet. Maybe if the contest scene grew a little, he could try again, but until then best keeping that particular secret under wraps.

Marnie shrugged, aloof. “It’s whatever. Someone needs to help you keep your head spun the right way around. I'm the only one qualified for it.”

“What would I do without you?” Piers chuckled.

“Die, probably,” Marnie replied. “So can you ask this guy out? Does he like you at all?”

Piers shrugged.

He didn’t know if Leon liked men. As far as he could remember, Leon never dated anyone of any gender. Leon had always been laser-focused on training and being the strongest trainer in Galar.

But if he did like men, would he be interested in Piers? He didn't know, but given how much time they’d be spending together training for the contest, maybe he could figure it out.

Marnie, her ponytails somewhat righted, asked, “If you need help, Gloria and me could—”

“I’d rather step on a pincurchin,” Piers cut her off, crushed the paper bag into a ball, and tossed it to the side. It bounced and went right through Scrafty's new card tower.

"Sorry," he apologized.

Scrarfy sobbed and slumped back. Marnie’s scrafty looked towards him then sighed. She walked around and helped him pick up the cards, their friendship restored.

“I’ll tell you if I find out anything.” He pointed at the hot potato game still ongoing with his thumb. “Right now, though, you and me don’t need boys when we can play with the best pokemon in the Galar region, though.” To Grimsnarl, he shouted, "Oi, toss it to me!"

Marnie giggled as Piers took her wrist and led her towards the game.

----

AN: Shout out to my friend Sara for the help with this! You da best!!! ^-^)/ Next chapter should be next week? I'll probably post to A03 first though if you want less of a wait.

Also feel free to follow my art blog @uas-art if you enjoyed the chapter art.

#fanfiction #dnnz #gym leader piers #Champion Leon #piersxleon #multi chapter

[another-dr-another]

{Oh shit um. They lied about something else which proved they couldn't kill Kurokawa???}

Maeda - Now I get it!

Maeda - Process of elimination, right? We know timing was fine, since no one saw the culprit, and the drugging went off fine...

Maeda - So there must be other stuff we're overlooking.

Hatano - Well, as culprit, wouldn't they wanna try to shift the blame to someone else?

Yamaguchi - Odds are, they tried to convict someone a few times, but didn't go too far with it!

Hatano - What makes ya say that?

Yamaguchi - Tsurugi said he knew who they are, they already know they've made mistakes, so they try and get the classes opinion swayed to someone else!

Yamaguchi - But if they go too forceful, the class would suspect them, and next thing they know, they're being prosecuted,

Yamaguchi - And Tsurugi comes in to explain how they did it!

Kobashikawa - I retract all previous questions about the validity of your talent.

Taira - Yamaguchi certainly earned a place here with his past...

Yamaguchi - Eh?

Taira - ...Your mother hired me for a month or so to come by once a week and tidy up, after your first case.

Taira - Very very messy.... very good pay, by extension.

Uehara - Talent talk, talent talk, talent talk!

Uehara - Christ... Maeda, we're still solidarity on not knowing how we got in, right?

Maeda - For sure...

Maki - God I wish that were me.

Tsurugi - After like, therapy, my first priority when we get out is totally gonna be getting my talent changed.

Mekaru - Still odd to me that a school like Hopes Peak wouldnt factor something like that in...

Mekaru - Anyways, on the topic of school, Maeda, wanna go back to your little presentation?

Maeda - Huh?

Mekaru - Just a joke about how you're kinda just explaining to the class how things happened, like a presentation!

Mekaru - But anyways, I just figured we should get back on track, and you should keep going about the case.

Maeda - ...That's all I got.

Ōtori - Huh? Really?

Maeda - What's that supposed to mean?!

Hatano - Well, you've kinda been solving a lot of stuff up until now, I was expecting you to work it out...

Maeda - The sole experience I have with this is a week of debate prep in Elementary Sixth, and glorified crime shows I'd put on for background music!

Yamaguchi - Don't you have a violent past or something though?

Tomori - You've just assumed that about him...

Inori - I mean, if you haven't reached a conclusion, maybe we're looking at this wrong?

Tsurugi - Ah... that's not the case...

Hatano - Cmon Maeda! Show me how smart you are, but some passion in and think!

Maeda - You're all expecting too much of me!

Taira - Oh really?

Taira - What was everything leading up to this then, a lucky guess?

Taira - And now the good luck of getting so far is turning to bad luck of not putting it together... seems awfully karmic to me.

Maeda - I feel... sick...

Tomori - ...Makes sense, this seems stressful to say the leas-!

Maeda - ...

Tomori - Oh! Maeda, you're starting to hyperventilate, okay? Focus on me, try to ignore everything els-

Higa - Do we really have time for this? Let the freak cry in the corner or something, and move on.

Maki - Holy shit, do you actually think any of us are gonna agree with you?

Yamaguchi - Cmon dude, I know being in a room with elites can be scary, but you're freaking us out, pull it together!

Iranami - It doesn't work like that...

Maki - They don't have a point, but Maeda? You do kinda need to calm down, save the breakdown for later.

Iranami - ...Or like that, either.

Tsurugi - Hey, can everyone stop for a sec? It's overwhelming to have that kinda reaction and attention on you, especially when already breaking down.

Tsurugi - ...Good, good, thank you all! Now, Maeda? You hear me okay? Look at me if you can; you don't have to make eye contact, just look over here.

Tsurugi - Thank you!

Tsurugi - It'll be okay! Here here here, breath with me, okay?

Tsurugi - Tomori taught you 4-7-8 earlier, right? Let's do that together!

Tsurugi - In for 4, hold for seven, out for eight. Inhale...

Maeda - ...

Tsurugi - Hold...

Maeda - ...

Tsurugi - Exhale... there you go, you're already doing great! Keep doing that, lemme explain what we're gonna do.

Tsurugi - I know you're overwhelmed, so let's talk out just who the culprit is. Just a simple conversation!

Tsurugi - If you don't get the same thing I did, that's okay! You'll be bringing up things I haven't thought about, or things I need to change.

Tsurugi - And even if it isn't helpful, it's okay to make mistakes!

Tsurugi - Then, when you understand, you can explain it to everyone, if you'd like. I'll be there the whole time to back you up and defend your answer!

~*~

Tsurugi - So we've already established the culprit was thrown off and panicked, and was making mistakes.

Tsurugi - So, they repeatedly lied about things, to try and subvert the blame. And we just trusted what they said,

Tsurugi - Then when they kept being proven wrong, we didn't question why someone with their expertise would mess up.

Tsurugi - And in fact, it was only when we ignored what they were saying on the case, something they actively fought against,

Tsurugi - That we started to realize what had happened.

Tsurugi - They claimed that they weren't physically capable of the murder, but the wounds they inflicted and how they impacted me...

Tsurugi - And assumedly Kurokawa, would've enabled them to pull off the murder; there was no other reason for them to attack where they did.

Tsurugi - They couldn't lie about cause of death, because I was able to work that out, but they suggested a weapon they didn't use,

Tsurugi - When this student, especially known for being a bit... odd with how they work when it comes to their talent, would likely have a drill in their room.

Tsurugi - They've even tried to throw suspicion on others, but like what's been assumed, they didn't press too hard, and ultimately tried not to bring attention to themselves.

Tsurugi - When they were speaking up, it was either trying to distract us from a conclusion we were making, divide us on incriminating evidence,

Tsurugi - Or defend themselves when they seemed suspicious.

Tsurugi - I mean, even just a few seconds ago, they were trying to get us to change our minds on our facts!

Tsurugi - The culprit is someone who was interested in others and how they reacted to the motive, and is someone who acknowledged that they could've drugged me...

Tsurugi - It's always been... incredibly hard for me to handle this sort of thing, where someone who could've had a great life was manipulated into something bad,

Tsurugi - And knowing what lies ahead of the culprit, I can't help but feel terrible for them, especially if I'm right on their motive.

Tsurugi - But Kurokawa deserves justice, she shouldn't have died for caring!

Tsurugi - So, Maeda? Think you know who it is?

~*~

Maeda, narrating - ...

Maeda - Time to make my selection.

{Select the Culprit}

#sdra2 #dra #au #yuki maeda #fangan #fanganronpa #chapter 1 #class trial #deadly life #kiyoka maki #mitsuhiro higa #kizuna tomori #ayame hatano #kanata inori #kakeru yamaguchi #kinji uehara #satsuki iranami #haruhiko kobashikawa #akane taira #teruya ōtori #rei mekaru #tsurugi kinjo

[theythedisaster]

SAFE ZONE

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Words: 1,749

Warning: Slight Angst, Mentions of death

Summary:

Sometimes he could be a real pain in the ass. He could be annoying, angry, cruel and snappy, but Bakugo surely was always there whenever you needed him. He could also lend a very good shoulder on which to cry on. So you were in luck, because you really needed one.

 

He had never liked admitting things like these. Doing so was like going against his very being, but there was no way around it. 

   He was worried about you. 

   That was Bakugo's line of thought as he sat before the television in your shared apartment. His eyes stared at the breaking news, your form followed from a distance as you ran with two little boys in your arms. Tears ran down your cheeks. Your face was dirty, your hero costume almost unrecognizable, your hair had long left your always put together braid that he helped you with in the mornings. There was smoke everywhere, so much that he was sure it was mere luck that the camera man had the opportunity to catch the scene. But just like he could see it, everyone else could and it was gone in an instant. 

The sight of your flushed, wet cheeks made him feel uneasy. It had just been for a straight second, but he had seen tears. He had seen you cry many times before, since the academy days. So he was rather skilled at noticing the slightest changes on your face. Everyone else might have mistaken your crying eyes for irritated ones because of the smoke, but he knew better. He knew you better than anyone else. 

  Bakugo was sure that no one would suspect you, because a hero knew better than to cry in a disastrous situation. Especially you, [hero name], the always collected and strategically exceptional pro-hero. The one that had saved countless lives in some of the worst situations in these past four years of her pro-hero career. In every situation, you had managed to save everyone under your line of sight, giving you also the name of 'The protector'. 

    But that was exactly the problem. 

   There was no way that that title given by the own citizens hadn't gotten to you. He knew it put the utmost pressure on your shoulders, given you the idea of becoming the perfect hero. The one that would save everyone in which you laid eyes upon. 

   So, seeing you lose your collected demeanor was a big indicator that something was terribly wrong. 

   "We are reporting from the edges of the current battlefield. The pro-hero Deku has been holding off an unknown villain for the past hour as heroes [hero name], Uravity, Kamui Woods, Creati and  Froppy have joined forces  to rescue the victims of the primary attack." The slightly desperate voice of the reporter brought Bakugo back to his senses. The camera man seemed to try and get more shots of the scene, but the smoke wasn't going to let them. It was a wall behind the masked reporter. "There's a massive wall of smoke behind us, so we cannot really see anything past it. We don't know if our heroes and fellow citizens are safe and we certainly do not know for how much longer this will conti-"

  "Look out!" 

   Bakugo stood straight from a jump when he heard your voice for a second before the camera shut off. 

  "Reporter Ito! Reporter Ito! Is everything alright?" 

  The desperate shouts of the news hosts fell into the background as he stood there, struggling to breathe to calm himself down. His heart was racing and the hold he had on the remote proved to be too much for it to handle. Shattered, he let the remote fall from his hands as he sat helplessly on the couch. 

  Why of all days, did it have to be in his free week that this happened? He could have been there with you, with everyone. If he were there he knew that that villain would have been suppressed long ago. No one could manage a pair of heroes like him and that nerd joining forces. If he was there he would have most probably... 

   No, there was no reason to be throwing 'what-ifs' now. He had just woken up when he sat to watch the news and found out about the situation. There was no way he could know something like this would happen and there was no way he would get there in time now. It was almost at the other side of the country, a few hours at the least.

   Even if he hated to admit it, he was sure that Deku would take care of things like he always does. He knew he would prefer to die before letting any of his teammates perish again. 

   All he could do now was trust your strength and the strength of everyone else. It had always been difficult for him... Trusting people. But he had found that it was easier to do so with you. So at least, he would trust you with your own life. He knew he could do that much. 

 

 

   It seemed like an eternity, but night arrived at last and so did you along with it. The soft creak of the door announced your arrival to your 4 year long partner. 

   Your head was hanging lower than usual, your shoulders slumped forwards, your feet dragging. Overall, you looked as if you had been carrying insanely heavy baggage on your back for a long time. You didn't seem tired in the same way you did every day. This form was new to him, he had never seen something remotely similar coming from you. And it alarmed him. 

  The young man walked towards you, who stopped in the middle of the hallway upon seeing him. He stood there, observing you, making you feel tiny. You couldn't even bring yourself to look him in the face. You were certain that if you did, everything would crumble and causing him more worry was something you weren't really fond of.

You knew he had seen everything. He always wakes up just before 10 in his free days and immediately proceeds to watch the news. So there was no way he didn't get to watch the whole live broadcast. Word even got to you that they  managed to record you in action. He most probably even caught your slip up. 

  There was no way to know for how long the two of you just stood there, him observing you and you avoiding his eyes. But at last, he spoke. 

  "Hey." He said simply, reaching for your hand.  His voice low, a raspy whisper. Just as if it wasn't only the two if you. 

   Your body immediately relaxed after his warm touch. A strong relief washed over you when you heard his raspy voice. Your eyes finally found their way to his and it was then when you realized that you had slipped up and let your guard down once again. 

  Bakugo's face contorted with pain when he watched your eyes fill with tears. They spilled fast and smoothly. There was no doubt that they were filled with emotion. Which one exactly? He wasn't sure. He wasn't all too versed on detecting feelings himself. 

  His free hand grabbed the back of your head and pulled you into his chest. His embrace was quiet, but it spoke more than words could, told you so much more than what his mouth ever could. The softness of his gesture got to you. You crumbled. 

  And it was then that you really broke down. 

  "I- I couldn't save her! I couldn't," you choked, "keep them my promise." You sobbed loudly, louder than you had ever sobbed before. "I couldn't save their mother, Katsuki!" Your hands trembled on his chest, the hold you had on his shirt increasing with your cries. 

   His arms tightened around you, his face buried on your hair at the top of your head. At this moment, he wished he could take away your suffering. He wished he could say something that would calm your heart, but he knew there was nothing he could do other than lend himself to you. 

   He held you as you choked on your own cries, incoherent words left your hasty mind and aching heart. 

   It wasn't clear to you when, but at some point you exhausted yourself to sleep. When you opened your eyes, you were resting on top of an almost dozed Bakugo. His shirt was soaked with your tears, his face facing the ceiling as his body rested sideways on the couch. His hold around you still strong, protective. 

  You pushed yourself up from him, startling him awake in the process. He blinked at you, quickly lifting himself and supporting his body by his elbows. He watched you with a scowl, not liking the fact that you were avoiding his eyes again. 

  "I'm sorry." You apologized, keeping your eyes glued to the darker spot on your boyfriend's shirt.

  Said thing only got you a flick on the center of your forehead. 

  Your hands flew to the damaged spot, rapidly moving your gaze to meet Katsuki's. "What are you saying sorry for, idiot?" You just watched the tender look on his eyes, words not forming. He reached again, pulling you into him. "There's nothing to be sorry for. You tried your best. I bet she's grateful you saved her children." 

 He felt how you trembled, his embrace around you waist tightening. 

 You sniffed softly, and let his gentle thumb pick the tear that rolled down your cheek before facing your beloved. You dried the tears that followed with the back of your hand, but it was nearly futile. They just kept coming. You couldn't help it, the aching of your soul echoing through your whole being and forcing them out. Nevertheless, among those tiny tears, you offered him a small smile. 

 He offered you one of his own, running his hand through your hair. "Let's take a bath and go to bed. You need to rest." The gentleness of his voice was rather foreign for you, but not a complete stranger by any means. 

 Your boyfriend stood, offering his hand to help you out of the couch. And even after helping you out and up, he didn't let go.

 Maybe your heart was hurting and your soul mourning a mother that didn't belong to you, but would now never leave your memories. Maybe you wouldn't be able to stop hurting for a while, but with Katsuki by your side you knew you could go through it. This man really didn't know how much of an influence he had on you. He really didn't know that he was indeed, your safe zone.

#katsuki bakugo x reader #my hero academia #angst with a happy ending #pro heroes #aged up #my hero academy fanfiction #bakugou katsuki fanfiction #pro hero reader #prohero bakugou #established relationship #boku no hero academia

[fireflake-art]

HC: Apple Bloom

I've come across new, different ideas for AB, so I'm updating my Harmonyverse HC for her, with a new full-body adult design! Onto the headcanons~

Her parents, Pear "Buttercup" Butter and Delicious "Bright Mac" Cameo, died very close to their youngest daughter's birth. Buttercup was left terribly exhausted afterwards, with so little strength she couldn't even hold her newborn in her arms. Doctors feared she wouldn't make it. With what Buttercup accepted as her final breath, she gave their foal a name. Daisy Blossom. (Granny Smith would later give the filly a name fit for the tiny, sleek filly; Apple Bloom.)

Yet, Buttercup lived through it. She was still weak and tired, but she was alive. On the first day she was allowed to walk around Ponyville, her and Bright Mac took out their oldest, Johnny, to the market with baby Apple Bloom. A few minutes into grocery shopping, Buttercup fainted. Bright Mac raced to help her. Only Johnny saw the supply carriage bumbling towards them, and in that one second he could yell, the young colt froze in terror.

Following the funeral, Applejack vowed to always, always protect Apple Bloom and her family, and Johnny inherited Bright Mac's name and his work. All siblings were contracted to their only remaining grandparent, Granny Smith, after some fight from Bright Mac's best friend Burnt Oak, who was the godfather of the children.

Big Mac and Applejack developed quickly. They couldn't make mistakes in raising Apple Bloom, their last connection to their lost parents. Applejack became a constant helicopter to her, making sure Apple Bloom was comfortable, happy, and healthy. Big Mac was more loose than Jack, but he did take care of the baby a lot, as stubborn AJ took up a wealthy amount of the farmwork.

The more Apple Bloom grew, the more she dreamed of freedom and uninterrupted alone-time. She fixated over proving herself mature, so Applejack would loosen the leash a little, if not all the way. One day, a thought crossed her mind; cutie marks. They were handled as the last step into puberty! She needed to earn her cutie mark to be a big mare!

Soon, she found the only other blank-flanks, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle, and together they formed the Cutie Mark Crusaders. As roughly the oldest CMC (During the course of the show, Apple Bloom and her fellow classmates are preteen foals, while the Mane Six are in their 20s), Apple Bloom appointed herself the unofficial leader.

Apple Bloom was too young to remember her mother and father's faces from her own memories, so she always relied on pictures and stories from her family. The Apple children weren't aware that their mother wasn't an Apple, so they believed themselves pure-blooded. Applejack and Big Mac never questioned it... But it had confused Apple Bloom since she could think.

Apples were portrayed as strong, tall creatures. A mass of fluff, freckles, and muscles. True forces to be reckoned with. So why wasn't Apple Bloom?

Even before getting her cutie mark, AB was skinny, sleek, small and shimmery. She was curious and self-conscious. It was typical for the average Apple foal to have a growth spurt early into their tweens, and to come out as a new, fluffy and buffy pony. But she just wasn't.

That fact scared her. She hated the idea that she wasn't actually an Apple. That she was just some kid Granny Smith took pity on and fostered. How could she know for sure that Buttercup was her mother, or Bright Mac her father? Why didn't her real parents want her? Was she bad, somehow? Why wasn't she enough for anyone as-is? Not for Applejack, who wanted her to be a perfect, safe carbon copy? Not for her friends, who wanted her to be a commanding leader? Not for Anypony... No creature loved her truly, did they?

She had convinced herself that she was adopted when she met a mister Grand Pear. Finally, she got an answer to why her body was different. She simply had the athletic, slim figure of her mother, and that was okay. Apple Bloom was a little disappointed she wasn't a full Apple, but she was half-Apple, and that made her happy.

Luckily, tho, she did eventually have her growth spurt, late into her teens. Unfortunately to Bloom, this also attracted the attention of... suitors. Ew

Apple Bloom had always wanted to be so many things. Zecora's official full-time apprentice, the real leader of the Crusaders, the strongest Apple... And within a few years, she would achieve those dreams. She would build up her own future, packed with multiple professions (blacksmith, carpenter, engineer, farmer, potion brewer, dancer, fixer, head of a Youth Camp)... And those responsibilities would turn into an excuse as to why she didn't pursue a meaningful relationship.

Love was too messy for her. The idea of falling for somebody and them wasting her time wasn't a thought she favored. Romance was a fickle force, closer to Chaos than the friendship lessons she had been taught and had since mastered. She believed she had everything she wanted. That may have been true, if she wasn't terrified of falling in love.

She was scared. Terrified that if she found someone she really connected with, someone she built her life with and loved more than the stars, that that creature would be taken from her. No matter if the love was true, no matter if they were good and honest, even if they had a beautiful life together, that partner could be snuffed out. And it would hurt. So, so much. Enough that Apple Bloom would be left bitter, paranoid, depressed and alone.

It happened to Buttercup and Bright Mac. It could happen to anyone.

So Apple Bloom didn't have much of a love life. Sure, she had flings, but those were short and wild, with ponies she didn't actually love and that felt the same way about her. Her whirlwind fling with one Featherweight was never supposed to end in pregnancy. It was supposed to be uncomplicated summer fun. But life wasn't like that sometimes. Most of the time, it seemed. Now, because of her recklessness, a child was on the way, and she had no idea how to care for a foal, or a husband.

Featherweight was happy he was going to be a father, but at the same time, he never expected or wanted a baby with Apple Bloom. He only felt genuine friendship for the mare, and she felt the same. They had many long talks over what to do. Apple Bloom promptly crossed off the notion of an abortion before anybody had even mentioned it. Finally, they agreed to have and raise the baby together, as friends.

A week into the pregnancy, Apple Bloom revamped the Cutie Mark Clubhouse into a humble cabin. Featherweight moved in to care for her.

Nine months and a lot of chocolate-laced apple deserts later, Apple Bloom would deliver her first and only baby girl. As soon as she held the tiny filly in her arms, she felt something so fierce in her heart. She never wanted anything bad to happen to this little ball of fluff. She wanted her baby to have a full life, brimming with creatures that loved her. She had never felt something so powerful before the birth of her daughter... Buttercup would be her name, Apple Bloom decided. Maria Meadow Buttercup, after Granny Maria Smith and Pear Butter.

Apple Bloom loved Buttercup so much, she recognized the feelings she had been neglecting. She wanted to feel what love was like when it was romantic. Of course, her daughter was more important than dating for a long while, but after Featherweight moved out and could have Buttercup over at his apartment, Apple Bloom decided to try it.

AB didn't have much luck. Most of her (in hindsight, ill-picked) dates weren't very open-minded when she mentioned her newborn. It took only a few months for her to get frustrated with it. She slowly resented her even trying to find someone. She hated the rejection. She wanted real, true love, from a kind being that sparked something within her. Was that too much to ask?

Then one random day, she stumbled into an old friend. Diamond Dazzle Tiara, her old bully turned friend, who had changed into quite the business mare. She was working a manager position in Barnyard Bargains, her father's international retail industry. Humbly (or stubbornly, as Spoiled Rich would put it), Diamond refused to quit her job as the Ponyville Mayor's assistant. Apple Bloom remembered how convincing and snobby Mrs. Rich could be, and was secretly impressed Diamond had managed to subdue her.

Still, Diamond Tiara was obviously struggling. She needed a break. After Apple Bloom got a friend to fill in for Dia's shift, Diamond couldn't say no to a catch-up-coffee-date! (Which served as a subtle tell for Bloom; Diamond was single!)

Diamond Tiara had so much to spill. Apple Bloom was surprised to see the mare in such a frantic state. Where was the poised, graceful, cunning and confident young mare that Apple Bloom had said goodbye to when she went away for University in Prance? Diamond Tiara had changed, and with good reason.

The mare had been the bride of her university sweetheart, Snails (who would have guessed? Literally no one). They had been happy... until they weren't. And then Diamond had the dumbest idea she might have ever had. Saving their relationship with a baby didn't work. Now she was a divorced single mother with joint custody of their baby, Drama Queen, and, worse, she had had another daughter with wild ex-boyfriend Rumble, siring baby Loudmouth. (Diamond doesn't regret having her daughters, of course. She just wished it was under different circumstances.)

But, but, but, she was happy once she and life-long bestie Silver Spoon agreed to open a restaurant together. It was so fun being the boss! Being awesome bosses with her bestie! Being an awesome, good mother to her young children! It was amazing. She had been picking her life back together, and she had been happy.

Then her mother had to ruin everything even more. Diamond was somewhat afraid of Spoiled Rich. After the birth of Loudmouth, Dia had cut off communication with her mom. But she couldn't muster up the courage to say a much wanted 'no' when Spoiled Rich dropped by and pressured Diamond to go back to Barnyard Bargains. This wasn't what Dia wanted, she knew, but she couldn't find a way out. She needed out, she wasn't happy here, not as her mother's obedient pawn or as a respected employee of her dad's company.

Apple Bloom wasn't going to let her friend accidentally wreck her life. Apple Bloom and Diamond Tiara constructed a plan to help Diamond stand up to Spoiled Rich, and with support from friends and family, Diamond left Barnyard Bargains and helped Silver Spoon open more establishments, all while happily maintaining her assistant job and becoming a fitness coach.

Diamond Tiara soon moved in with Apple Bloom, originally as close friends... Until something more bloomed.

Other notes~

- Apple Bloom is now a flirty and fun, yet collected and stern mare. She's a good mother, probably the best out of the CMC. She graduated from needing some twisted version of freedom to actually having it, in the form of healthy independence together. Loves chocolate treats, charity work, detective novels, folk and hip hop music, mythology, trashy romantic comedies and cheap horror films, and horoscopes.

- Only rare ponies know Apple Bloom's full name, and that goes for a lot of Apples. They're a Clan of nicknames, basically.

- Apple Bloom isn't heavyset because of muscles, she is simply a plus-sized woman.

- Apple Bloom didn't attend University. She opted to have less on her plate during her pregnancy and the first few years of Buttercup's childhood. Now that Buttercup is a preteen and isn't as much as a hoof-ful as a baby pony, Apple Bloom takes online courses. She is aiming for a degree in carpentry, with minors in mechanical engineering and art.

- As a younger filly, Bloom preferred the calmer, quieter energy of her brother. Into childhood, strong, fearless and independent Applejack shifted into her idol instead. Still, Apple Bloom doesn't like to share either of her siblings, and was very hostile towards their respective partners at first, as well as new friends, old sweethearts, and the occasional friendly stranger. She is also very protective of Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, who she considers her first real friends. You bet she threatened the hell outta Tender Taps and Gilded Lily.

And she was even more pissed when Granny Smith got a girlfriend!

- Apple Bloom opened a Youth Camp for foals to try out different activities. These foals didn't have to be blank-flanks; it was opened to any kid.

- Her mentor Zecora broadened Apple Bloom's worldview farther than Applejack ever had. Zecora taught her about so many different plants, creatures, cultures, and most notably, religions. Zecora mentioned the belief of Magic (the Ponyverse term for real-world Wicca) to a teenage Apple Bloom, and from there on, Apple Bloom researched the hell outta it.

Magic was mostly a religion practised by non-unicorn ponies and species that were believed, by dismissive unicorns that spread it as the truth, not to be magically inclined. Apple Bloom was raised as a believer of Providence (a form of Ponyverse Christianity), and for a few years considered herself both a Witch and a Provider. She now defines as only a Witch. Wears a Wiccan necklace that promises protection.

- Tattoos do exist in MLP, and Granny was not happy when college-aged AB got roses on her arm. Granny wasn't that supportive of her second tattoo, either; Diamond Tiara's initials (but certainly not as mad as the roses).

- Humanverse Apple Bloom's name is Daisy "Blossom" Alma, and she is an Asian Australian American woman that rocks V-neck flannel crop tops and mom jeans.

- Part of the reasons why Bloom didn't want a shot-gun marriage was for Featherweight's best friend's sake, Pipsqueak. Pip turned jittery and awkward whenever Apple Bloom was around or the pregnancy (and the following newborn baby) was mentioned. Apple Bloom quickly realized Pipsqueak was deeply in love with an oblivious Featherweight, who was even more oblivious to the fact that he felt the same way. Shortly after their daughter was born, Apple Bloom match-made her baby daddy with his bestie, and those two are still together to this day.

- Apple Bloom is still friends with Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, despite Sweetie's house being in Canterlot while she frequently tours Equestria as a pop singer, supermodel and exotic dancer and Scootaloo traveling the world as a Scout to reform creatures that need to be taught friendship. Sweetie Belle's job is very time-consuming while Scootaloo's is both time-consuming and dangerous as hell.

Apple Bloom worries about them a lot, Sweetie because she's a recovering drug addict in an industry known for hardcore corruption and Scootaloo because of her reckless nature. Apple Bloom regularly checks in with her old dance partner/Sweetie Belle's also-celebrity husband Tender Taps, the power couple's quietly confident daughter Bella Danzatrice, Scootaloo's surprisingly stable and non-wild genius wife Gilded Lily (who's AB's step-niece), and their shy, smart son Orion.

- Dia and Snails' daughter Drama Queen formed a Sister Squad with half-sisters Loudmouth and Champion (Snails and Twist's filly), and soon brought in Buttercup. Since then, little Buttercup is a bit more spoken than she used to be, but is still lacking in confidence. She's a soft-spoken, gentle, sensitive filly that's at the top of her class. She is most comfortable when with close friends or close family. Like her mother, Buttercup juggles many hobbies, but mostly enjoys crafts and perfume-making. Buttercup requires a lot of encouragement because of her poor self-image. Apple Bloom is always, always patient with her.

And that's the new rewrite! I felt like I left too much out last time, and I sketched an adult AB and made it the base of her new HC: Character. I'll probably be making new ones for Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, too, since I've discovered new headcanons from other people that I like more than mine. Peace ✌️

#pastelglitches19 #harmonyverse #mlp headcanons #mlp next gen #mlpfim #mlp friendship is magic #mlp apple bloom #apple bloom #apple bloom headcanons

[pbandjesse]

I wanted to start this post about an hour ago but I finish watching hereditary and I was so horrified that I had to take a break and watch a couple videos. I mean they were videos about hereditary so it's not like I did much to fix the situation but stop. I'll come back and talk about the movie later in the post.

Today in general has been rough. I'm very tired. Working all week teaching and then doing 3 days in a row at ships is not going to be able to work in the future. I can do overnights but 3 solid 8 hour days after the emotional struggle of teaching, is just way too much for me. Today was very hard. There were good parts. But I feel very tired and I don't know how I'm going to make it through tomorrow. If I felt like I could get away with it I would ask James to switch with me. But honestly the whole day is going to be really really tough. And even though he's doing the lunch shift I don't think it's going to make much of a difference for me.

I slept okay. But I felt pretty terrible when I got up. I let myself stay in bed for an extra couple minutes and got dressed and made breakfast. Pack my lunch. I'm headed out. I got downtown and the river rank is almost finished being put together. I found out that it's $10 per skate but they have a season pass for $150. That might be worth it for me. Since my skating classes last year were just about that and only once a week. So if I get 250 as long as I go 15 times over the season it pays for itself. I'm not making a decision yet but I might be able to work at my budget depending on how long the season is. So I'm waiting to hear back from the email I sent to find out. But that would be really nice for me. Because I could go in the morning before I have to go teach and I would really really love that.

Work was okay. It was just exhausting and I felt very done. But me and Frank open the building. And I made my charge. He said I did a good job and I even gave him attempt on folding the tin foil. I started the day at the desk and mostly played online. Read the news. James came at 10:30 and got me a donut. It was pretty chilly outside and I had brought my wool coat out of storage this morning to wear. I felt very Shippy. And it was an okay day. I always liked working with James.

I was in charge of doing the firing today. And I wasn't not looking forward to it because I do want to be fully qualified on it. But as I was getting ready I realized we only had one primer. Was. We're supposed to have 4 firings this weekend. And if my firing didn't go well the first time we were out of luck. We only had the one chance. And of course I had the most people I've ever had in a crowd watching me. But between my ramming and Frank priming it over and over again. We had a good firing. And I felt very proud of myself at the end of it. Especially because it was right on time at noon.

I had lunch and watched videos. I still felt too tired and really just wanted to go home. But I tried to make the best of it. Having lunch helped. I'll talk to some really nice gifts and was able to share some of my knowledge and stories about constellation. And that was enjoyable. I was going to the desk for a while. And then me and James are outside together. And soon enough it was the end of the day. I felt bad that we didn't have a second firing because a couple people had wanted to see it but hopefully that gets dealt with. I'm not pleased that I'm going to be there tomorrow and have to find out what's going to happen about it. I really really wish I didn't have to be there.

I had been spending basically half the day contacting Marcus from access the elementary school about picking up the cat. And I gave him James's number so they could communicate. I sort of wish I had gone to James's house so that I could help get the cat in the carrier and give Marcus some tips. These Marcus didn't end up getting to him until almost 8. And I totally could have gone over there then done that. But what's done is done and I'm glad the cat is in his new home and I really hope he drives with him. He seems like a really sweet cat even though he needs his nails trimmed.

I had dinner and I did laundry. And while my clothes are in the dryer I took a bath. And put my movie on. Hereditary was one of the roughest movies I have ever watched. Like it's beautifully shot and the story was compelling and the characters were well developed. I felt every emotion that they were going through. Enough that was in the first 15 minutes I thought I was going to throw up because of something that happened to the characters and I cried. In a horror movie I cried at the emotions that these characters were feeling. It was way too long. And the ending was outrageous. I would not watch it again but I do want to read more about it and explore some of the themes. Because some of the parts of the movie were wonderful. But I would not sit down and watch the entire 2 hour 5 minute movie again. It was just way too much for me. And I have seen some shit. Like really bad shit and this movie really upset me. But I'm glad I watched it. Because I don't know it felt like I proved something to myself about being able to focus again. So it was nice to be able to watch an entire movie. After it was finished I called James because I couldn't text him my feelings about this movie. I just had a lot I had to say out loud. But I'm glad that we got to talk for a few minutes.

I finished putting away my laundry and I checked the mail. Just sent me a package with the cutest little squishy dinosaur. So now I'm for sure getting a clear backpack to keep all of my cute charm plushies in. But really I still feel nauseous and it's daylight savings so I'm getting an extra hour of sleep so I don't feel so bad staying up to watch videos for a pallet cleanser. I'm going to go wash my face and have a snack and continue to cuddle with sweet pea who has been so affectionate tonight. He keeps trying to push his face into my nose. Wish me luck getting through tomorrow because it's going to be a lot for me. I hope you all sleep well tonight. Good night

#ootd #work #sky #grass #good day #tired #hereditary #saturday

[andya-j]

It was the job of a lifetime for me, teaching people to speak English in Hanoi, Vietnam, and getting paid big money for it. In 1994, the war seemed long over, but for some, it was never going to end, soldiers becoming redundant, and innocent people becoming landlocked, their way of living and thought forever changed, so much so they could never rest, not until their job was done . Summer was in full swing there and two of my friends joined me, to help me settle in. They had been there twice before. Good old Jim Dyson and His wife John, short for Johnette. They were both older than me by about ten years. I was only twenty-six. An uncle of mine – Tom - had served in the Army during the war, got wounded at the Battle of Long Tan. He rarely spoke of it, but when he got drunk he did, and would troll off into his own little world, speaking in Vietnamese, because he had to learn the language, just in case he got caught. “ Eddie, “ he'd say, breathing alcoholic fumes on me, trying to look me in the eye, “ they tie ya to trees, boy. Then, they cut ya. From ya shithole to ya breakfast. “ Then, he'd look over his shoulder suspiciously, and smirk, “ We really should make a run for it. “ Uncle Tom was killed by a car walking to the shops in 1986. He had been sober for three years. Hurt my family deeply, Hanoi surprised me, because I thought I would be in a city of the past, with people selling rice, working bullock drays, on unpaved potholed roads, with throwback sixties bars, and tiny, pretty women in purple silk miniskirts promising to love me long time. It was nothing like that. The Dysons had warned me. It was very modern and very loud. And, man, it was loud. First day there, I saw a fight in the street. Two taxi drivers got into an argument over a potential fare and one stabbed the other in the back of the neck. The potential fare ran off and got on a bus. I wanted to step in and help the wounded driver, but Jim pulled me back, saying, “ No, Ed. It's their business. They don't like interference. Trust me. “ I trusted him, but I really think I should have helped. We settled into a hotel called the Hanoi Arms and I still had three weeks to go until I settled into the teacher's cottage. The Vietnamese government, crawling along as it was, had found me a permanent place to stay, which I was and will be forever grateful for. It was much like a modern bedsitter unit. It had an expanse to place a bed, a lounge, a desk, and television, which I never had reception for, unless it was a black screen with Viet music playing. The place had a seperate kitchen and bathroom, though. And it had electricity. I met the renevator – Tran – when I turned up the first time, with Jim and John. “ Ready. Ready soon, “ he said, smiling, covered in paint, a man in his late forties. “ You cook here. Big cook. “ He dabbed paint at the wall, then said, “ Here, man cook all time. Good for wife. Wife cook good, man cook better. Must cook better. No cook, no good. No cook, no wife, “ then he chuckled, like this was the local knowledge and a joke to him. Tran smoked a cigarette while he painted, the cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, never once using his hands to deal with it, inhaling and exhaling through his mouth, squinting through one eye. When the cigarette was finished, he spat the butt with expert aim into a brass pot. I have never smoked, so I found it fascinating, and when I finally moved in at the start of term, there was not a shred of cigarette smoke in the place. I never met Tran again. At the community school, where I would be working, I met the head of education. She called herself Miss Maggie. She was taller then most Vietnamese women, had long and straight black hair, with legs that ran to her neck, and she had the greenest eyes. Jim and John met her with me and they later told me that meeting an asian woman with green eyes is very good luck, like marrying a white woman with blue eyes. It's simply the polar cultural opposites of good fortune. Being only twenty-six at the time, I won't lie, I wanted to fuck Miss Maggie bad. She was hot. With three weeks to go before the start of a new term, Miss Maggie said, “ You should cycle. Go get cycle, love. “ She said love. My heart was beating fast. Then, she said, “ The people there. In the country, they need you. I don't need you here. I need you there. Introduce yourself, Mister Grantley. Be a teacher. “ “ Just call me Eddie, “ I said. “ No, you are Mister Grantley. You are a teacher, like I am, but I am better than you are. You know why? You are here, love, “ winking at me, knowing she was the boss, and that was all of it. Love... That word again. A learned word to soothe the nerves of the caucasian, like junkies use it to appease a dealer they owe money to, or to get product from, or to slide their foot through the door. We were attracted, I could see it, but she wanted me to do my job, earn the money, better her homeland, and prove it. “ Certainly, “ I said. “ It's a very good idea. I'll listen to your advice. Bicycle, was it? “ “ Yes, “ she said. “ Blend in. A motor car distinguishes you at my school. Get a bicycle. I see you have friends waiting for you. You should take them with you. I heard your other friend speaking Vietnamese. Make sure he goes with you. To be a good teacher, Mister Grantley, you must be like the students. If they crawl, you crawl with them, then they learn to walk. “ I understood her logic and that's why I eventually married her. Jim and John were quick to rent bicycles for us and off into the Vietnamese countryside we went, leaving the noise of Hanoi behind. Before too soon the roads became dusty, dirty, pocked with holes, and irrigations. We laughed at how much those road jolted our bones. We stopped at villages, the villagers coming out, speaking to us, telling us where to go, and where not go, offering us their babies at times, freaking us out, always marvelling at the shininess of our bicycles, sunglasses, and watches, touching the fabric of our clothes. At one place, into our fourth day of cycling, at a village I still cannot pronounce, they held Jim and Johnette down, by the side of their toppled bikes, yelling, machetes high, willing to decapitate them both, then the villagers laughed and let us go. We wanted to go home then, but Jim was pissed, “ Fuck these little cunts! Fuck them! “ “ Shut up! “ Johnette shrieked. Then, they came back, and took us, shoved us to the ground again. Right there in the middle of nowhere. “ Be cool, “ I told my companions, “ Just be quiet for a moment. “ ( Please... ), I said in Vietnamese, especially to the older angry man with the machete above me, his dark face scrunched to kill, and me already having wet myself. ( We will ), from remembering all my uncle Tom's drunken Vietnamese. I was here to teach it, not speak it. The angry man with the machete yelled, “ We will? We what? “ I asked, ( Teach speak please? )( Can we please help you? ) ( Hear me? ) He kicked my belly, called me a smarty pants, slapped the back of my head, and snorted that english was easy. The Americans taught him that. Jim was next. He grabbed Jim by the fringe and put the machete to my friend's throat, yelling, “ You! What you do? “ John was pleading with the men roughing her up and Jim was seething with anger, his eyes making it clear. ( I can rip every tooth from your head and fistfuck your mouth for this, ) Jim growled in clear and profound Vietnamese. The machete man let him go and stepped back, understanding exactly what Jim meant. First, he smirked, then he chuckled, slapping one of his pals on the arm, then he laughed at Jim, “ No, you cant! I won't let you! “ Then, everyone was laughing at us. I was thinking they were going to keep us prisoner, rape Johnette, behead us, all the terrible things my uncle Tom told me about, but within in a few hours, they had fed us, given us water, returned our bicycles, and sent us on our way. We were glad to be away from them and Jim and John bickered momentarily, but they made up quickly, and held each other crying. They wanted to blame me for it, but couldn't, because I never invited them. They invited themselves. Two days later, we encountered an old compound that may have served as a military base during the war. The walls were huge and grey, four towers standing high, but vacant. The place seemed deserted, so we ventured inside to look around. We quickly learned that this place had been a prison. There were hundreds of cells with broken doors and rusty bars, an executioner's gallows rotting away. In the massive courtyard we heard a door open at the far end and a small old man was looking at us, just standing there, shaking his head in disappointment. “ Hello! “ John called. The man looked shocked and upset when she called out, then spoke to himself, turning around, and darted back into his room. “ Spritely old fart, “ Jim said. “ Probably has a huge cock, too. “ John giggled and punched his arm. We knocked on the old man's door and it opened slightly, unlocked. “ Hello? “ I quizzed. “ Are you there? Can we please come in? “ There was a breeze and the door opened a little more, so I gently pushed it all the way open. The old man was unravelling bundles of rope, cutting them into lengths with a large knife, mumbling to himself. We entered and he seemed oblivious to us. His room smelled of kerosene. “ Are you the caretaker? “ I asked. John was amazed at the silk tapestry on the wall. Jim checked in a vase and coughed, “ I think those are human ashes in there. “ I was trying to decipher what the old man was saying, but for the life of me, I couldn't grasp his dialect, wondering aloud, “ What do you think he's saying? “ “ Sounds familiar, “ Jim said. “ Some shit about three ropes. “ The old man kept cutting the ropes with the knife, nimble about it, but also quite distressed, like we had made him get out of bed to do something he didn't want to do, as if us being there was a chore, never once ceasing his mumbling that same phrase over and over. I turned to Jim and he had John's arm, backing out the door in shock, motioning for me to follow them, Jim nodding his head, wide eyed in panic. He walked calmly to his bicycle, telling me to follow, don't look back, but I did look back, and as we rode away, I could see the old man wailing silently at us, on his knees, rope in hand. When the compound was out of sight, Jim stopped pedaling, taking a breath. “ That old guy is fucked, “ Jim said. “ I recognized what he was saying from this time I went to Thailand to visit a friend. Some prison guards were speaking to each other in a bar. That old man back there was talking Thai. He was wasn't talking about three ropes. Even for an old man, he is very dangerous. He was a prison executioner and he was saying he needed to hang three more, meaning us. That was a gutting knife he had. He was going to gut us and hang us, Eddie! “ In 1994, the war was long over, but for some...

It was the job of a lifetime for me, teaching people to speak English in Hanoi, Vietnam, and getting paid big money for it. In 1994, the war seemed long over, but for some, it was never going to end, soldiers becoming redundant, and innocent people becoming landlocked, their way of living and thought forever changed, so much so they could never rest, not until their job was done . Summer was in full swing there and two of my friends joined me, to help me settle in. They had been there twice before. Good old Jim Dyson and His wife John, short for Johnette. They were both older than me by about ten years. I was only twenty-six. An uncle of mine – Tom – had served in the Army during the war, got wounded at the Battle of Long Tan. He rarely spoke of it, but when he got drunk he did, and would troll off into his own little world, speaking in Vietnamese, because he had to learn the language, just in case he got caught. “ Eddie, “ he’d say, breathing alcoholic fumes on me, trying to look me in the eye, “ they tie ya to trees, boy. Then, they cut ya. From ya shithole to ya breakfast. “ Then, he’d look over his shoulder suspiciously, and smirk, “ We really should make a run for it. “ Uncle Tom was killed by a car walking to the shops in 1986. He had been sober for three years. Hurt my family deeply, Hanoi surprised me, because I thought I would be in a city of the past, with people selling rice, working bullock drays, on unpaved potholed roads, with throwback sixties bars, and tiny, pretty women in purple silk miniskirts promising to love me long time. It was nothing like that. The Dysons had warned me. It was very modern and very loud. And, man, it was loud. First day there, I saw a fight in the street. Two taxi drivers got into an argument over a potential fare and one stabbed the other in the back of the neck. The potential fare ran off and got on a bus. I wanted to step in and help the wounded driver, but Jim pulled me back, saying, “ No, Ed. It’s their business. They don’t like interference. Trust me. “ I trusted him, but I really think I should have helped. We settled into a hotel called the Hanoi Arms and I still had three weeks to go until I settled into the teacher’s cottage. The Vietnamese government, crawling along as it was, had found me a permanent place to stay, which I was and will be forever grateful for. It was much like a modern bedsitter unit. It had an expanse to place a bed, a lounge, a desk, and television, which I never had reception for, unless it was a black screen with Viet music playing. The place had a seperate kitchen and bathroom, though. And it had electricity. I met the renevator – Tran – when I turned up the first time, with Jim and John. “ Ready. Ready soon, “ he said, smiling, covered in paint, a man in his late forties. “ You cook here. Big cook. “ He dabbed paint at the wall, then said, “ Here, man cook all time. Good for wife. Wife cook good, man cook better. Must cook better. No cook, no good. No cook, no wife, “ then he chuckled, like this was the local knowledge and a joke to him. Tran smoked a cigarette while he painted, the cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, never once using his hands to deal with it, inhaling and exhaling through his mouth, squinting through one eye. When the cigarette was finished, he spat the butt with expert aim into a brass pot. I have never smoked, so I found it fascinating, and when I finally moved in at the start of term, there was not a shred of cigarette smoke in the place. I never met Tran again. At the community school, where I would be working, I met the head of education. She called herself Miss Maggie. She was taller then most Vietnamese women, had long and straight black hair, with legs that ran to her neck, and she had the greenest eyes. Jim and John met her with me and they later told me that meeting an asian woman with green eyes is very good luck, like marrying a white woman with blue eyes. It’s simply the polar cultural opposites of good fortune. Being only twenty-six at the time, I won’t lie, I wanted to fuck Miss Maggie bad. She was hot. With three weeks to go before the start of a new term, Miss Maggie said, “ You should cycle. Go get cycle, love. “ She said love. My heart was beating fast. Then, she said, “ The people there. In the country, they need you. I don’t need you here. I need you there. Introduce yourself, Mister Grantley. Be a teacher. “ “ Just call me Eddie, “ I said. “ No, you are Mister Grantley. You are a teacher, like I am, but I am better than you are. You know why? You are here, love, “ winking at me, knowing she was the boss, and that was all of it. Love… That word again. A learned word to soothe the nerves of the caucasian, like junkies use it to appease a dealer they owe money to, or to get product from, or to slide their foot through the door. We were attracted, I could see it, but she wanted me to do my job, earn the money, better her homeland, and prove it. “ Certainly, “ I said. “ It’s a very good idea. I’ll listen to your advice. Bicycle, was it? “ “ Yes, “ she said. “ Blend in. A motor car distinguishes you at my school. Get a bicycle. I see you have friends waiting for you. You should take them with you. I heard your other friend speaking Vietnamese. Make sure he goes with you. To be a good teacher, Mister Grantley, you must be like the students. If they crawl, you crawl with them, then they learn to walk. “ I understood her logic and that’s why I eventually married her. Jim and John were quick to rent bicycles for us and off into the Vietnamese countryside we went, leaving the noise of Hanoi behind. Before too soon the roads became dusty, dirty, pocked with holes, and irrigations. We laughed at how much those road jolted our bones. We stopped at villages, the villagers coming out, speaking to us, telling us where to go, and where not go, offering us their babies at times, freaking us out, always marvelling at the shininess of our bicycles, sunglasses, and watches, touching the fabric of our clothes. At one place, into our fourth day of cycling, at a village I still cannot pronounce, they held Jim and Johnette down, by the side of their toppled bikes, yelling, machetes high, willing to decapitate them both, then the villagers laughed and let us go. We wanted to go home then, but Jim was pissed, “ Fuck these little cunts! Fuck them! “ “ Shut up! “ Johnette shrieked. Then, they came back, and took us, shoved us to the ground again. Right there in the middle of nowhere. “ Be cool, “ I told my companions, “ Just be quiet for a moment. “ ( Please… ), I said in Vietnamese, especially to the older angry man with the machete above me, his dark face scrunched to kill, and me already having wet myself. ( We will ), from remembering all my uncle Tom’s drunken Vietnamese. I was here to teach it, not speak it. The angry man with the machete yelled, “ We will? We what? “ I asked, ( Teach speak please? )( Can we please help you? ) ( Hear me? ) He kicked my belly, called me a smarty pants, slapped the back of my head, and snorted that english was easy. The Americans taught him that. Jim was next. He grabbed Jim by the fringe and put the machete to my friend’s throat, yelling, “ You! What you do? “ John was pleading with the men roughing her up and Jim was seething with anger, his eyes making it clear. ( I can rip every tooth from your head and fistfuck your mouth for this, ) Jim growled in clear and profound Vietnamese. The machete man let him go and stepped back, understanding exactly what Jim meant. First, he smirked, then he chuckled, slapping one of his pals on the arm, then he laughed at Jim, “ No, you cant! I won’t let you! “ Then, everyone was laughing at us. I was thinking they were going to keep us prisoner, rape Johnette, behead us, all the terrible things my uncle Tom told me about, but within in a few hours, they had fed us, given us water, returned our bicycles, and sent us on our way. We were glad to be away from them and Jim and John bickered momentarily, but they made up quickly, and held each other crying. They wanted to blame me for it, but couldn’t, because I never invited them. They invited themselves. Two days later, we encountered an old compound that may have served as a military base during the war. The walls were huge and grey, four towers standing high, but vacant. The place seemed deserted, so we ventured inside to look around. We quickly learned that this place had been a prison. There were hundreds of cells with broken doors and rusty bars, an executioner’s gallows rotting away. In the massive courtyard we heard a door open at the far end and a small old man was looking at us, just standing there, shaking his head in disappointment. “ Hello! “ John called. The man looked shocked and upset when she called out, then spoke to himself, turning around, and darted back into his room. “ Spritely old fart, “ Jim said. “ Probably has a huge cock, too. “ John giggled and punched his arm. We knocked on the old man’s door and it opened slightly, unlocked. “ Hello? “ I quizzed. “ Are you there? Can we please come in? “ There was a breeze and the door opened a little more, so I gently pushed it all the way open. The old man was unravelling bundles of rope, cutting them into lengths with a large knife, mumbling to himself. We entered and he seemed oblivious to us. His room smelled of kerosene. “ Are you the caretaker? “ I asked. John was amazed at the silk tapestry on the wall. Jim checked in a vase and coughed, “ I think those are human ashes in there. “ I was trying to decipher what the old man was saying, but for the life of me, I couldn’t grasp his dialect, wondering aloud, “ What do you think he’s saying? “ “ Sounds familiar, “ Jim said. “ Some shit about three ropes. “ The old man kept cutting the ropes with the knife, nimble about it, but also quite distressed, like we had made him get out of bed to do something he didn’t want to do, as if us being there was a chore, never once ceasing his mumbling that same phrase over and over. I turned to Jim and he had John’s arm, backing out the door in shock, motioning for me to follow them, Jim nodding his head, wide eyed in panic. He walked calmly to his bicycle, telling me to follow, don’t look back, but I did look back, and as we rode away, I could see the old man wailing silently at us, on his knees, rope in hand. When the compound was out of sight, Jim stopped pedaling, taking a breath. “ That old guy is fucked, “ Jim said. “ I recognized what he was saying from this time I went to Thailand to visit a friend. Some prison guards were speaking to each other in a bar. That old man back there was talking Thai. He was wasn’t talking about three ropes. Even for an old man, he is very dangerous. He was a prison executioner and he was saying he needed to hang three more, meaning us. That was a gutting knife he had. He was going to gut us and hang us, Eddie! “ In 1994, the war was long over, but for some…

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