#i guarantee i’ll remember more later and kick myself

[therapyqueeeen]

realizing that a lot of my favorite male characters are mama’s boys

#miles molares #percy jackson #damian wayne #bruce wayne #jason todd #adrien agreste #felix graham de vanily #felix fathom #izuku midoriya #alucard castlevania #aaron warner #prince zuko #i know there’s more but that’s all i can think of off the top of my head #yuki sohma #i can’t believe i fucking forgot yuki sohma i’m a disgrace #that rat boy is the KING of mommy issues #i guarantee i’ll remember more later and kick myself

[persephones-wren]

hii love, love your fics so I just had to request again! Could request a Kaz andd reader where he says something mean to her without meaning it but shes really sad an stattes crying to jesper and he gets angry and tells Kaz to apologise? Angst with a happy ending,please!! Thanks a ton darling💗💗

Forgiveness (Kaz Brekker x Reader)

thank you for requesting again! school has been kicking my ass, so sorry for how long writing this took, but I hope you like it! :)

Warnings: mentions of catcalling, (small) injury, idk?

Genre: angst to fluff

Word Count: 1910

To say you’ve had a shitty day would’ve been an understatement.

Heading to the White Rose to see Nina, you’d been catcalled multiple times. Maybe you were being dramatic, but the comments felt more scathing than usual, and it had gotten under your skin quicker than you thought it would. You didn’t want to use Kaz’s reputation to scare them off, but it wouldn’t have mattered. You’d still be viewed as a possession, just one that didn’t belong to them.

You had snapped at the last stranger who’d given their perverse ideals of you, and that altercation had left you a lovely slash on your arm from defending yourself. You had temporarily wrapped it up on a scarf, but you knew you would probably have to wrap it with gauze on it when you returned.

When you had asked the clerk where Nina was, he said that he’d seen her leave, but she said nothing to him. Which meant the entire journey here was a waste, and that you’d have to head home without her guaranteed cooperation with the plan your boyfriend was creating.

“Kaz, she’s not there. Clerk said she went out, but he didn’t get where. It was a waste of a trip,” you sigh, throwing down your cloak on a random chair.

Kaz sighs, lowering his head as he writes out another part of the plan. “Really, Y/N? You couldn’t go out and look for her? She told us a couple days ago that she was going to start taking trips to the market at this time. You could’ve found her there.”

“I’m sorry?” you scoff quietly, but try to adjust your tone at the icy stare he gives you. You could’ve said that nicer, sure. “I didn’t think to look for her there because I didn’t know that, Kaz. Are you sure she told us that?”

“Yes, she did. Were you not paying attention?”

“I don’t think I was there,” you refute. “I would’ve remembered if she told me.”

“I don’t have time to talk to people who can’t do their jobs,” he mutters. “Just get out and waste time for now. Let me finish what I’m working on and we’ll find her together later.”

“The hell you mean I can’t do my job?” you protest. “I did what you asked. I went to go look for her, and she wasn’t there. I thought your instructions were not to stray from my path, because you wanted me home quickly and safely.”

“If you had any shred of common sense, then you’d know that I’d only say that because I’m supposed to care about you. I’d take information over your safety.”

You still. What?

He’s supposed to care about you? Does that imply he doesn’t? He would take information over your safety.

Does he want to break up?

Stop being dramatic. Kaz doesn’t play implication games with something like that. He’d tell you outright.

But he wouldn’t care for you if he got what he wanted.

“I-um, oh,” you take a shuddery breath. Your chest feels tight and your eyes are going to water. Kaz hates dealing with over-emotional people. He needs people who can keep their cool, people who can think their way out of things. You need to get out of here before he looks up at you. You’re useless, you’re an idiot, no wonder he said you couldn’t do your job properly.

Too late. He looks up at you, frowning at your silence, but you quickly turn away, still trying to hide your face.

You laugh, and even you can tell that it’s not genuine, just an attempt at trying to hide your wavering voice. “I’m fine, Kaz. Uh- yeah, yeah! We’ll go out later and-” your throat catches as you swallow harshly. “We’ll go out and look for Nina later. See you then.” You quickly brush your tears out of the way, opening the door and stepping out.

Your steps echo down the hall, and you try and find your way to your room through the tears that now stream down your face.

I’d take information over your safety.

You still don’t know if he means it. He’s angry, but- Kaz was usually extremely candid when he was upset.

He might’ve meant every word.

You don’t notice Jes in front of you, and as you pass him, he catches your arm.

You wince, his fingers land right on the slash, and he hastily lets go, looking at you with concern. Everyone was usually about as emotional as a rock in the Barrel. What made you cry like that?

“Y/N, you okay? What happened? Why did you flinch from me? Did I do something wrong?”

His face resembles a kicked puppy, and your heart constricts with slight guilt.

“No, no- it’s not your fault, Jes- your fingers landed right on a slash I got, that’s all.”

He looks at his hands, covered in slight blood. You tug at your soaked-through scarf and look at it, and it looks even worse than when you first got it. Your grimace. So much for getting him to worry less about you. “It looks a lot worse than it actually is.” Your words are frantic and stuttered, but you hope he gets the point.

“How did that happen? I thought with Kaz’s reputation, you would be untouchable. Why isn’t he taking care of you?”

You smile sadly. The mention of Kaz tightens your chest again.  “Guy scrapped with me for a little while after catcalling me. I didn’t want to use Kaz to defend myself- me, with him? He’d be even more of a target. And Kaz is a bit upset with me right now. He doesn’t know what happened.”

“Why the hell would he be upset?”

“I didn’t get the information he wanted,” your voice is small and weak. “And he said he’d rather have the information more than my safety.”

“Which is why you’re crying.” Jes’s face has a look of understanding.

“Yes,” you affirm quietly. “Today’s just been a bad day. I’ll be alright, though, really. I know Kaz doesn’t like dealing with weak people, so I thought I wouldn’t bother-”

“You’re not weak.” His voice gains a complete new edge, and his face is determined. You suddenly get a bad feeling. What’s Jes going to suggest you do? “We’re going to go confront him. Right now.”

“Jes, I look like I’ve been crying. I’d at least like to compose myself a bit.”

“No.” He makes sure he’s grabbing your other arm, before leading you back to Kaz’s office. “He needs to know how much he’s fucked up. He’s smart, but really,” Jesper sighs, “He’s an idiot. And you deserve better than that.”

Your heart warms at his words, but you’re still nervous as he leads you down the hall, and you’re definitely panicking when he opens the door without knocking.

Kaz looks up, and a brief look of surprise is in his eyes as he looks at Jesper. Why didn’t Jesper knock? And why would Jes need him, especially at midday? Wouldn’t he be out gambling?

Kaz prepares himself to hear something stupid. He doesn’t notice you standing behind him, and his attention drifts back down to his plan.

“What do you need?”

“Apologize.”

“For?”

“For being a bloody idiot and hurting your girlfriend.”

Hurting you? He looks back up to him, and this time, you’re standing next to Jesper.

“I didn’t-” Kaz starts, but your appearance makes him go silent.

Your expression is blank, but tear streaks clearly stain your face, and you clearly look like you don’t want to be confronting him. Jesper had put you up to this.

Were you too afraid of him to do it yourself?

What did he do for you to look like that?

“You didn’t do anything?” Jesper’s voice is incredulous. “She went to the White Rose to try and find Nina, and then you come home and treat her like she’s useless because she doesn’t get what you want. She’s your girlfriend, not a goon. Have some respect for her, yeah? She followed exactly what you said, to try and get home quickly and safely, and even then, she still gets hurt. Did you even notice the bleeding gash?”

“Jes,” you whisper, “it’s fine, really-”

He doesn’t listen, and grabs at your wrist to lift your arm, pulling down the scarf and revealing the bloody cut. Kaz blinks, concern and guilt briefly flashing on his face before he smooths back his expression.

How didn’t he notice? How did that happen?

“Y’know how she got that? Men were harassing her, and she fought one of them because she didn’t want to use your name as her shield. She was trying to prevent painting an even bigger target on your back. And then you go as far,” Jes laughs angrily, “as to say that she’s not worth more than information for your fucking plan? And through all of that, she leaves you alone because she doesn’t want to be an inconvenience to you. Your girlfriend thinks her emotions are burdening you. Get your fucking head out of your ass. Either you apologize to her, or she’s breaking up with you.”

You and Kaz are both left standing still, both watching as Jesper stalks back toward the door, opening it and slamming it shut.

The sound echoes through the silent room.

You don’t know what to say. Part of you feels vindicated, Jesper did the hard part for you, but part of you feels guilty- Jesper also made it a lot bigger than it could’ve been.

You let the guilt win out.

“I’m sorry, Jes’s wording was a bit harsh, I’ll take my leave, it’s really not that big-”

“Stay,” Kaz interrupts. “Please.”

You sit down on the chair next to his, and he turns to you, pulling out gauze and alcohol wipes.

“I can do it myself,” you say hurriedly. “I know-”

“You’re not a burden to me.” He avoids your gaze, he doesn’t want to see your reaction, in case he really would lose you after this. “Let me help you.”

“Okay.”

You hiss through your teeth as he cleans the gash, a small “sorry” escaping him as he continues. There’s still a silence hanging between both of you. He wraps it carefully, looking up at you when he’s done.

“Not too tight?”

“No,” you answer quietly. “Thank you, Kaz.”

There’s another silence between you.

“I care about you,” he says suddenly. “I wouldn’t trade your safety for anything.”

You know it’s his way of saying sorry.

“It’s okay,” you give a reassuring smile. “I know. I’ve just had a bad day, that’s all.”

“It’s not,” he argues. “If you ever need to defend yourself, use my name if it’ll get them to stop. I don’t care if it paints whatever sized target on my back.” You open your mouth to interject, but he continues. “I’m already a wanted criminal in Ketterdam. However much you increase the target by doesn’t matter, so long as you come home alright.”

“Okay,” you nod. “I will.”

“I love you, darling.”

Your eyes widen at his words. He doesn’t say it often, he knows that you already know that.

Jesper must’ve really shaken him.

“I love you too,” you reply softly. “Thank you.”

It’s his turn to look surprised. “For?”

“For caring,” you respond. “For being you. For loving me.”

A faint smile etches on his lips. “I always will.”

#shadow and bone #grishaverse #six of crows #six of crows x reader #soc kaz #kaz soc #soc x reader #kaz x reader #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #jesper fahey #thank you for the request! #request

[sevendeadlymorons]

Could you maybe do something about the brothers (and maybe Diavolo) with a MC that came from an abusive relationship in the past? You don't have to, but I really like your writing! So I figured I'd ask.

As a victim of past abuse myself, of course I’ll write this, darling

Brothers Reaction to an MC That Came From an Abusive Relationship

————————————

Lucifer

When you two first met, he quickly noticed how withdrawn you were from him touching you in any way and often flinching from him even remotely raising his hand around you

He never really planned on taking notice of your peculiar behaviour until you two officially started dating and the signs really started to get worrying...

He noticed the occasional signs of distress coming from you when he raises his voice or even just shows you basic affection and immediately decides to talk to you about it

He can hardly believe it when you slowly begin to tell him that you used to be in an abusive relationship and just can’t really fully recover from it

Who would dare hurt you. He’s honestly heartbroken for you and he can’t completely get over the anger he felt inside when you first told him

Takes time out of his day to regularly shower you in love and affection, and has began to start to ask you for permission first, as he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable

Compliments you pretty much every second. He wants to let you know he’ll never harm you and just how incredible you truly are

Mammon

When he first saw you; his first reaction was to immediately charge towards you, but he noticed how flinchy you were and he could’ve swore he saw a ping of fear flash through your eyes for a mere second

Tends to ignore all the signs, but does sometimes pick up on the way you tense up when he places a hand in your shoulder, and that honestly makes him really worried

When you two started dating, and you began to further stray away, and even reject his affection, he decides to ask why you’re so withdrawn from him

To hear you’d been in an abusive relationship in the past makes his blood boil and his heart hurt in a way he’s never experienced before

Why would anybody hurt you? You’d done nothing wrong... and you’re so kind?

He honestly wanted to break down and hug you tighter than he ever had before but restrained himself because he knew he may scare you, and he never wants that

Tries his best to give you time snd space when you want it, but doesn’t hold back when it comes to cute texts every 10 seconds, telling you how much he loves you

Leviathan

At first he thought you were just shy, like him, but when he saw the pained look in your eyes when he first insulted you, it just didn’t sit right with him

He quickly became the main person to stick around you and you two soon began to date. Neither of you were very touchy with eachother though, so it wasn’t until later into the relationship when he began to see the signs

He thought it would be cute to give you a surprise hug from behind one night, but immediately let go when he felt your entire body tense up and you spun around to turn him like he was about to hurt you?

He asked you what he did wrong but didn’t expect to hear about how you were previously abused

His heart practically sank at your words and he felt both worried and angry for you, and he couldn’t stop thinking about what cruel person would harm you in any way

He wants to see you improve and he really wants to be there every step of the way

He starts to refrain from touching you without your permission in fear of scaring you, but never forgets to send you multiple texts on how much he appreciates and likes you and constantly brings you random little gifts now

Satan

Couldn’t shake off the way you looked at everyone with this look of terror in your eyes, especially him. Even when he accidentally startles you, you look like you have this huge guard up that he can’t seem to break down

There was a time when he shouted at you for dropping a plate and you raised your hands to cover your face. He’s tried his best to never raise his voice around you again after that. He never wants to see that look again. Ever

When he started dating you, the once minor signs became more noticeable, and his acts of random affection always looked like they troubled you

He felt he needed to bring it up with you but he never honestly expected you to just let it all out to him. Hearing about your past made his heart hurt and he felt so much rage towards your abuser

He vowed right there and then to show you unconditional love, for as long as he lives. He’ll never treat you like how you were treated previously

He does research on how to help and what you may be feeling. He will help you. He wants to see you flourish

He tries not to be clingy as he knows space is important to you, but sometimes he just can’t stop himself from inviting himself in your room to read, or to show you a book or to play with the neighbouring cats with you

Asmodeus

Being around a whole load of different people and been in many relationships, he can always tell the signs early on. So seeing you withdraw yourself away from his affection is always an issue

He never likes to jump to conclusions though, so he thought perhaps you were just quite shy or didn’t like to be touched

But as you two got closer and eventually got together, he started to really notice the way you jumped and flinched at his surprise attacks of love and affection

Feeling worried, he asks you about it one night, his face completely dropping at the words that came out your mouth; anger and confusing swarming his emotions

How could people be so cruel? And to hurt someone as innocent and sweet as you? He wants nothing more than to show you how much better he is than them

Little by little, he’ll slowly begin to give you affection like kisses or hugs, constantly asking if you’re alright and if he’s allowed to touch you. He’ll slip in multiple little compliments every now and then just to boost you up and remind you how amazing you are and you should never forget that

He treats you well. You want a massage? On it. Nails painted? Absolutely. A shoulder to cry on? Any time you want. He just wants to help you because he can’t get enough of you

Beelzebub

Always wonders why you keep your head down around him. He can agree that he pretty much towers over you but he’d never intentionally hurt you...?

Tries to slowly introduce himself to you with different foods and warm smiles. He’s never felt happier when you smile back and eventually musters up the courage to ask you out

He’s affectionate over you straight away, asking for kisses and hugs, but doesn’t always notice how wary you are of his unexpected shows of affection

So when he came up behind you and wraps his arms around you one day, you stiffen up and attempt to push whoever was holding you still away. He notices this and lets go, apologising

You decide to tell him about how you were previously in an abusive relationship and he feels so hurt by what you were telling him, honestly close to crying. He slowly places his hand over yours and smiles at you

From then on, he swore to be your own personal body guard. He wants to protect you and keep you safe, and show you how imprortant you are to him and how much he really loves you

His random texts to you at god knows what time in the morning when he can’t sleep are always littered with emojis and kisses and just blatant tooth rotting sweet stuff that is guarantee to make you smile

Belphegor

Honestly took no notice of the clearly obvious signs of distress as, well, he did kill you once after all

When you flinched when his head hit your shoulder, or when his cruel sarcasm made your eyes turn into those of a puppies’ or even when he’d get all up in your space when napping and you turned as stiff as stone; he didn’t notice

Not until you two started dating though, and his affection increased, causing you to look as uncomfortable as you sound. He thought you were still just not over the time he murdered you though, but he presumed it was time to ask what was up

Never in his life would he have expected to hear you were a victim of past abuse. He thinks back to the shit he put you through and he has to stop himself from throwing himself on to you and hugging you as tight as he possibly can

He wants to find the person who hurt you and show them how it feels, how much they hurt you. He’s so angry but composes himself for you

He promises never to hurt you again, or let anybody else hurt you for that matter. He does his best to remember that you may not want to take a nap with him every hour, or you may not like his surprise tickle attacks either, and he’s ok with that!

He’ll be patient, as long as you let him love you unconditionally. He’ll never stop telling you how precious you are and how you didn’t deserve to be put through what you went through in the past

Diavolo

He guesses your lack of communication towards him is due to his position and his overall height difference from you. He supposes he can see how he may come off as threatening to you...

He didn’t realise coming up behind you to surprise you would be a bad idea when you turned around to face him quite suddenly with a slight look of panic in your eyes. It worries him, to say the least

When the day came when you two finally decided to date; the signs kicked in more clearly to him

It started off as small as jumping at the sight of him raising his hand, to flinching when he suddenly makes a loud noises, like laughter or just blatant yelling

Hearing for the first time about how you were treated in yoir past relationship was like getting an arrow to his chest. It hurt him like he’s never been hurt before. His smile fades as he thinks of what to do, but all he can think of is rubbing your shoulder as you cry

He will let nobody hurt you ever again. He’s on constant alert when it comes to you and always makes sure you’re happy and smiling. He’ll tell you jokes, and compliment you and text you funny things that’s happened in the castle throughout the day

Your health is the most important thing to him and he’ll be constantly checking up on you, and always asking for your permission to touch you, or at least letting you know when he’s about to hug you or kiss you

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me mc #obey me mammon #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo

[lorenfangor]

so @nikosheba and I fell down a bit of a fanfiction rabbit hole, coming soon to AO3…

When we finally got to the mall, Cassie and Jake were waiting at our usual table in the food court. Cassie was poking at a basket of fries, and Jake looked edgy and nervous. I couldn’t blame him. The last time we’d seen this place it was a bombed-out wreck.

“Marco’s not answering his phone,” he said when we sat down. “But I’m gonna stop by his place, see what’s up. Before we have to take care of that stuff.”

I didn’t smile, but I would have, if I was used to lips. Code, again, after not needing it for so long.

“I want to go alone,” I said, looking him right in the eye. I might have trusted him with my life and death, but I wasn’t about to let him argue with me on this. “He’s my dad. I want him to know I know.”

“Tobias…” Cassie said, but Jake raised a hand to cut her off. For once, I was glad - I didn’t need anyone worrying about my feelings this time. I knew what I needed to do, and I didn’t feel anything but certainty.

“You’ll haul ass with the cube after you see him? We’re not gonna have to deal with ‘kids setting off fireworks’ and snooping cops kidnapping my - Cassie?”

“Yeah,” I told him. “I’ll head back to the barn, give Cassie the cube, and tomorrow morning we can all start getting morphs.”

“Tonight,” Jake said. “All of us. We’ve got some serious planning to do before we can even think about sleeping.”

He looked at me, hard. He wasn’t really asking me if I was going to challenge him, but I knew that’s what he meant. Underneath the rounder face and bonier arms, he was still the same old Jake, and he’d learned too much about being a soldier.

I knew when to pick my battles. I backed down.

“Yeah, okay,” I said. “Tonight. You guys will wait for me?”

“We will,” Cassie said. “Rachel, you can help me make a list of all the morphs we’ll need while Jake goes to get Marco. And we can call around and tell people’s parents where they are.”

“Don’t bother,” I said. “I’m not gonna go back to my uncle’s.”

“You’re not getting stuck in morph again,” Rachel said.

“Absolutely not,” I said. I had no way of knowing if the Ellimist was a part of all this, and I didn’t feel like needing to find out. “But spending the rest of my time in seventh grade? Living with my idiot uncle? Like hell I’m doing that shit again.”

“Where are you gonna stay?” Cassie asked.

“I figure I can camp out in the meadow,” I said. “Ax will be here soon, anyway. I can stay with him.” That was one reunion I wasn’t really looking forward to. I kept telling myself there was no guarantee he’d remember anything, but I didn’t really believe it.

“Shit, you’re right,” Jake said. “We gotta go get him.”

“At least we know where and how this time,” Cassie said. “And no Pool raid means Visser Three won’t know there are ‘Andalite terrorists’ on Earth. We’ll have more time.”

“We will,” Rachel said. She sounded focused. Excited. More like her old self. “We could totally wreck their shit.”

“Later,” Jake interrupted. “Cut the chatter. We’ve got places to be.”

“Fine,” Rachel sighed, and then looked at me. “Actually, Tobias?”

“Oh, no,” Cassie said. “I know that look.”

“Oh no what?” Jake demanded, but Rachel waved him off.

“I’ve gotta take my boyfriend shopping,” she said. “No way am I letting him meet his dad dressed like that.”

Rachel dragged me to the Gap, Old Navy, a Payless, and a barbershop, and I came out of it with four different outfits, three pairs of shoes, and a haircut that she insisted made me look sophisticated. I knew better than to argue with her, but I was pretty sure I just looked like me.

“Okay,” she said at last, as I was changing behind a dumpster on the far side of the mall, “you’re ready. At least, you look ready. Way more ready than that hoodie-T-shirt-sweatpants ensemble.”

“It’s not like I’ve needed clothes the past few years,” I said. “And anyway, how am I supposed to know what looks good without you to tell me?”

She smiled, softly, in the way that meant I’d really charmed her. I hadn’t seen one of those smiles in a long time.

“It’s a good thing I’m here, then,” she said, and I looked at her and hoped she knew I was nearly smiling back. But we couldn’t stand around and chat. The sun was setting, and I couldn’t risk missing the crash.

“I’ll see you at the barn,” I said, angling my head at her like it was mine and not the human one.

“I’ll be there,” she answered, picking up the armfuls of shopping bags. “Go tell Prince Elfangor that I’m gonna kick Visser Three right in the dick for him, okay?”

“Yeah,” I said, warmth blooming up in my chest. “I’ll tell him you’re gonna send that slug straight to hell.”

#animorphs #animorphs fanfiction #animorphs au

[rivalsforlife]

The AAI Cast Takes On Twitter

Hello! For the release of ace attorney investigations 2 ten years ago, on the official AA twitter account, Capcom posted a bunch of tweets that were made to sound like they came from the characters themselves. You can still find them if you dig far enough, but it’s a bit of a pain to find and especially a pain to understand in English, so I decided to compile them all here and attempt to translate them. (They have also been “localized” in true ace attorney fashion.)

First, a disclaimer: I am absolutely NOT a translator and my understanding of Japanese is abysmal. I put the original tweets through google translate and then went through trying to make them legible, including looking up words and phrases when they didn’t make any sense. As a result, I can’t guarantee that this is completely accurate, and I definitely messed with phrasing a bit to get things to flow better or sound more in character. Hopefully the general gist of things should make sense! I’ll put the original Japanese text below the English one, and if you actually know Japanese and would like to properly translate it, please do so! I just wanted to get this out here as fast as possible.

If you want to view the original tweets, I’ve filtered them (mostly!) here in reverse-chronological order. There are tweets from the game staff at the end that I did not “translate”.

With that said, here are the tweets. (It is long, so most of it is under the cut.) The breaks are things I added that I believe were breaks in time on the actual account, and represent new scenes.

-----

<Edgeworth>: I was told to “tweet” what I usually think about to commemorate the release of “Ace Attorney Investigations 2”... What should I do?

<Kay>: Come on, Mr. Edgeworth! First, you need to introduce yourself!

<Edgeworth>: Oh. Sorry for the late introduction. My name is Miles Edgeworth, a prosecutor at the District Attorney's Office. Kay informed me that this is “Tweeter”. 

<Kay>: No! It’s pronounced "Twitter"!

<Edgeworth>: Is it "Tweeter"? I'm not very good at this kind of thing ...

<Kay>: Okay, moving on. Ace Attorney Investigations 2 is about to be released, and Mr. Edgeworth has a lot to say, right?

<Edgeworth>: Mm. Certainly, there are few opportunities like this, so this should be a valuable experience.

<Kay>: Then this Great Thief, Kay Faraday, will teach Mr. Edgeworth the fun of tweeting!

<Edgeworth>: I’m not very interested in that… but alright. More importantly, Kay, do you want to start working soon?

<Kay>: Yes! Then, we can play later!

<Edgeworth>: (Well, if you have any questions, do not hesitate to tweet.)

<Kay>: Mr. Edgeworth ... Your inner voice is in the tweet! Isn't that neat?

<Edgeworth>: Ah! Tweeter… I shouldn’t underestimate it. 

-----

<Edgeworth>: It's already 12 o'clock ... I wanted to take a break for lunch, but it seems that I won’t get the chance. The detective just reported a new case. I'm heading to the scene right now.

<Edgeworth>: Detective Gumshoe seems to have been in a hurry. He said he “lost something important”... It’s probably not something to worry about. I should concentrate on the investigation first. It takes a careful investigation to find out the truth hidden in the scene. There are many things that cannot be understood from desk work alone.

<Edgeworth>: I've arrived at the scene. Mm? It seems that some pencils have fallen near the victim.

<Edgeworth>: Search for the connection between information. That is the pursuit of "Logic". Assembling "Logic" is the key to the investigation even in Ace Attorney Investigations 2. “Something lost by Detective Gumshoe” and the “pencil left on the scene” ... There is one answer that can be derived from the two pieces of information.

<Edgeworth>: Detective Gumshoe! It seems that we found your lost pencil. ‥‥ Don’t leave extra evidence on the scene!

<Edgeworth>: Hmm ... Finally, the truth of the scene has come into view. This case will likely be resolved soon.

-----

<Kay>: Good evening! I came to play as promised!

<Gumshoe>: Welcome, Kay!

<Kay>: Huh? Gummy, are you also on Twitter?

<Gumshoe>: It’s popular among my detective friends. As long as my number of followers keeps increasing, I’m happy!

<Edgeworth>: What is a "follower"?

<Gumshoe>: Well, people who read your tweets. To put it simply, it’s like a friend group.

<Kay>: It seems that there are many people who are watching this tweet! Ehehe. That makes me kind of happy!

<Edgeworth>: Hmm. Friend group...? That sounds a little embarrassing, but thank you, followers.

<Kay>: Hmm. I feel that followers and friends are a little different. Well, as long as he’s happy.

<Edgeworth>: Let’s say that tomorrow we’ll spend more time with our followers on Tweeter.

-----

<Gumshoe>: I've been waiting for you, Prosecutor Edgeworth!

<Edgeworth>: Mm. Good morning Detective Gumshoe. It's rare for you to get to court earlier than me.

<Gumshoe>: That’s because I have to set a good example for my followers! I skipped dinner last night so I wouldn't be late.

<Edgeworth>: What does skipping dinner have to do with getting up early?

<Gumshoe>: Well, it sets a “belly clock”, so you wake up at breakfast time!

<Edgeworth>: (There are too many problems with that, and I don't feel like pointing them all out... I’ll just stay silent.)

<Gumshoe>: Mr. Edgeworth ... We can see the tweets of your inner voice, you know…?

<Edgeworth>: It's about time for the court to open. I'm heading into court without any uncertainty today.

-----

<Kay>: Hello everybody! I'm Kay Faraday, also known as the Great Thief Yatagarasu. Fufufu ... I’m actually in the gallery right now! I wanted to see Mr. Edgeworth and Gummy in court, and keep an eye on the enemy!

<Kay>: Oh! Mr. Edgeworth screamed, “Objection!” This is the 5th time today. The other lawyer is sweating now. The judge’s gavel is getting fierce! Eh -- what? “You can’t tweet in the courtroom…?” Hey!

<Kay>: Uh ... I was kicked out of the courtroom. As expected by the new rival of Ace Attorney Investigations 2, Justine Courtney! She seems like a kind judge, but also very observant.

<Kay>: This is an unexpectedly strong enemy! Mr. Edgeworth, are you okay ...?

<Edgeworth>: Kay. What were you doing in the gallery today?

<Gumshoe>: I was surprised to see Kay being kicked out of court!

<Kay>: I didn't think that tweeting was prohibited. As a Great Thief, this is the ultimate mistake!

<Edgeworth>: If you have time to regret breaking the rules of the court, use it to learn a little more about them.

<Kay>: If I had to leave the court anyways, I wanted to have a cooler exit, befitting of a Great Thief!

<Gumshoe>: … I don’t think she regretted breaking the rules. 

<Kay>: Anyway! You’ve already finished your work today, right?

<Edgeworth>: Yes, I finished my work in the courtroom today. It looks like we can have a nice holiday.

<Kay>: So, why don’t the three of us go play together! Bowling, karaoke, game centers, etc.!

<Edgeworth>: No ... I'm not very good at such things.

<Gumshoe>: Since it’s Friday night, why don’t we play around and recover from working hard! I think watching movies would be fun!

<Kay>: Yeah, you worked so hard this week! Now, let’s go play!

<Edgeworth>: *sigh*. Whatever I say, it’ll be a waste of time… If we must, at least make it a movie.

-----

<Gumshoe>: This Saturday morning is a nice time for a walk! I sometimes take a walk with Missile to build strength and give him training. As the “partner” of Prosecutor Edgeworth, I want to be useful in Ace Attorney Investigations 2!

<Gumshoe>: When investigating with a metal detector or collaborating with Missile, I will be second to none! Hey, Missile! Hmm? Is a scent bothering you? Aaaaa! Mi-Missile has run away! He must’ve smelled food.

<Gumshoe>: When this happens, I have to rely on the odor to chase after it! This is part of the investigation process! Uh… I lost him right away. When this happens, I have to prepare sweets that Missile likes to lure him in! …  I’m so overwhelmed.

<Kay>: It’s a shame to keep Missile as a police dog. He stole away Samurai Dogs from this Great Thief and ate them…! I was trying to eat with Ema.

<Gumshoe>: Sorry about that, pal. By the way, what were you doing together? Collecting fallen leaves…?

<Ema>: We’re grilling Samurai Dogs on this fire we made from scientific chemicals!

<Gumshoe>: Huh. Scientific chemicals, pal…? Mi-Mi-Mi-Mi-Missile! Do you feel alright?

<Kay>: It’s fine! He ate it before we started the fire.

<Gumshoe>: Oh. I wish I got to have some...

<Edgeworth>: It’s not good to use chemicals to play with fire, Ema. Scientific research is important, but please use moderation.

<Ema>: Yes! Moderation! By the way, are you going somewhere?

<Edgeworth>: Yes. I have some business. ... I don't have much time, so excuse me.

<Kay>: ... Mr. Edgeworth, where are you going?

<Ema>: Fufufu. In this case, we can follow his footsteps! Using the power of science… in moderation!

<Kay>: Alright! Let's follow him… in moderation!

<Gumshoe>: They both have a strange definition of “moderation”...

-----

<Kay>: That overwhelming scale! I think I’m going to cry! That’s a first for an orchestra concert!

<Ema>: The powerful sound of brass instruments and the splendid melody of woodwind instruments! Scientifically speaking, changing between different sounds is what makes music good.

<Edgeworth>: Umm. While I was looking forward to today, I didn't expect you two to follow me.

<Kay>: I wanted to bring Gummy as well, but he had to walk Missile, so he couldn’t come with us.

<Edgeworth>: The detective can still hear the “Ace Attorney Investigations 2 Orchestra Arrangement Collection” CD. You can pre-order one at E-Capcom.

<Ema>: I already pre-ordered it, of course! I’ll also get the 1:10 figure of Mr. Edgeworth!

<Edgeworth>: A 1:10 figure of myself? I don't remember measuring my height, but ...

<Kay>: That's because I stole Mr. Edgeworth's height perfectly!

<Edgeworth>: I'm a little hesitant to say it in the orchestra hall, but let me just say one word.

<Kay>: "Objection!"

<Edgeworth>: Wha…? How did you --!

<Ema>: This must be the famous technique of the Great Thief, stealing the words right out of his mouth! How informative!

-----

<Edgeworth>: I have no plans today, so I will spend my time reading at a nearby coffee shop. Naturally, I want to relax on Sundays.

<Edgeworth>: I’m drinking high-quality black tea in a comfortable sunny place. Today is going to be a good day off.

<Edgeworth>: Speaking of which, the other day, a follower named “Wendy” greeted me here on Tweeter. I don’t know how to return messages, so I haven’t done so yet. Let me thank you here. Ms. Wendy, thank you for following me.

<Oldbag>: E… Edgey-pooooooo! I finally found youuuuuuu!

<Edgeworth>: Gah! What are you doing in this coffee shop ...!?

<Oldbag>: No way, Edgey-poo! Just now, didn’t you say this on Twitter? Didn’t you just say “Ms. Wendy, thank you”? You made this old lady so happy! I just ran around all the coffee shops and searched for you everywhere, Edgey-poo. The power of lo

<Edgeworth>: Do you talk too much to fit on Tweeter? So, “Wendy” was you! No matter how many coffee shops you visit, there’s no way you found me so easily… Are you hiding something?

<Oldbag>: If you say that without evidence, you’d tarnish the title of “prosecutor!” I have nothing to hide from my dearest Edgey-poo!

<Edgeworth>: Hmm… Even without evidence, if I read your reactions and feelings, I can expose the truth while only using my words.

<Oldbag>: Oh, I heard about this, Edgey-poo! Isn’t it called “Logic Chess”? I know everything about you, Edgey-poo!

<Edgeworth>: What do you mean by “I know everything?”

<Oldbag>: You see, it’s because I’m a security guard. Recently, because the whippersnapper who was there before me got fired, I was temporarily guarding the prosecutor’s office. At that time, I just so happened to see your address, Edgey-poo.

<Edgeworth>: …………… I didn’t even need to pull out information, and you’re already telling me the answer!

<Oldbag>: Oh. It was a slip of the tongue. I thought I would get to see Logic chess.

<Edgeworth>: Well, could you see it in Ace Attorney Investigations 2? Please excuse me, I have very important business to attend to.

<Oldbag>: You mentioned that you have no business today! Today, I will never let you go!

-----

<Edgeworth>: Ngh… That was quite the disaster today.

<Edgeworth>: I was too careful just because it was a holiday. I was neglecting my remarks and wasn’t vigilant of those around me ...

<Edgeworth>: Mm? Now “Tweeter” is showing something from “Wendy”. … “Sorry. - Wendy.” … I’m not going to respond to that!

-----

<Gumshoe>: Prosecutor Edgeworth, did you hear? Agent Lang is coming from the Republic of Zheng Fa!

<Edgeworth>: Hm. Is he also involved in an international case? I didn’t have the opportunity to talk to him for long the last time. If I have time, I’ll go greet him.

<Gumshoe>: The last incident was a difficult one. I couldn’t talk much with Agent Lang’s subordinates, either.

<Gumshoe>: There are 100 people who know about it.

<Edgeworth>: If you tried to talk to everyone, the sun would set before you did.

<Gumshoe>: To be honest, I gave up trying to remember my own face and name.

<Edgeworth>: That’s just being lazy!

-----

<Lang>: Yo, Mr. Prosecutor. It's strange to see you in a place like this.

<Edgeworth>: It's been a long time, Agent Lang. I never thought we would meet again at a restaurant like this.

<Lang>: I just happened to see this place while I was looking for somewhere I could go alone.

<Edgeworth>: Alone ...? That’s unusual for you. Aren’t you usually with your subordinates?

<Lang>: Well… Lang Zi says: “To know the feelings of a lone wolf, you should leave the pack.” Sometimes I do things on my own.

<Edgeworth>: Is that so? However, I see a contradiction right there on your table.

<Lang>: Hah! Is that the prosecutor’s famous “deduction”?

<Edgeworth>: For someone eating alone, you ordered a lot of “platters”, which seem to serve over twenty people.

<Lang>: Arooooooo! ‥‥Oops. It seems I have a habit of ordering too much. If you don’t mind, Mr. Prosecutor, would you take a little?

<Edgeworth>: It seems that you’re not very good at acting alone.

-----

<Kay>: Eh? Agent Lang’s coming here again?

<Edgeworth>: Ah, yes. Unlike before, though, it seems like he’s acting alone for some reason.

<Kay>: Isn’t that because it’s difficult to sneak around with too many people? It’s an important rule for a Great Thief!

<Edgeworth>: He is an “international investigator”, not a “Great Thief”. … Anyway, he seemed to come to this country for some purpose.

<Kay>: Then, we might meet him again at a crime scene.

<Edgeworth>: Even if we both desire to pursue the truth, our paths often run counter to each other. If I meet him in the field, we may argue.

<Kay>: That’s nice. I also want a rival that will change me as a person! Ahh… I wonder if they’re out there… the rival who wants to hunt down the Great Thief!

<Edgeworth>: If you want to be arrested so badly, ask Detective Gumshoe.

<Kay>: Ugh! You just don’t get it!

-----

<Kay>: It's finally February!

<Edgeworth>: Oh. So it is...

<Gumshoe>: I'm looking forward to February 3rd!

<Gumshoe>: At our police station, we will sow beans for the bean-throwing festival! February 3rd is a precious day when you can eat soybeans for free!

<Kay>: Every year, I challenge myself with how many beans I can throw! “Out with the demons, in with the fortune, and in with the Great Thief’s treasure!”

<Edgeworth>: Did you forget the most important thing?

<Kay>: I was just kidding! Of course I remember what’s happening February 3rd!

<Gumshoe>: There is no reason to forget the release date of Ace Attorney Investigations 2!

<Edgeworth>: Mm ... I hope.

-----

<Edgeworth>: It’s three days before the game goes on sale. I hope the followers look forward to it as well.

<Edgeworth>: Investigating in winter is necessary, even if it’s cold, and you can’t catch a cold before the game goes on sale. Ergo, please take proper measures against the cold.

<Edgeworth>: Speaking of which, Detective Gumshoe wears the same coat all year round. Doesn’t that get cold? Ah… maybe it’s just that his salary is too low to buy anything else.

<Edgeworth>: ……… Should I invite Detective Gumshoe for dinner? What little I know about his eating habits worries me. I don’t think he’d eat instant noodles in winter… 

<Edgeworth>: There is a handmade udon restaurant near the prosecutor's office. The taste is satisfying for a reasonable price. ‥‥‥‥‥‥ Though, when it comes to inviting Detective Gumshoe, I shouldn’t limit myself to just noodles.

<Edgeworth>: Mm. I tweeted that it was only 3 days before the game’s release, but it was 2 days. I worked all night in the office yesterday. It seems my sense of time has gone haywire.

<Edgeworth>: What I tweeted then was contradictory… Pardon me. Thank you, followers who pointed that out.

---

<Gumshoe>: This pork roast is delicious! This is my first one of the year!

<Edgeworth>: Detective Gumshoe. Stop eating while tweeting!

<Gumshoe>: I've been eating only plain pasta this year. I couldn’t help myself!

<Kay>: I could, but I still tweeted!

<Edgeworth>: It may not be instant ramen, but his eating habits are always in crisis.

<Gumshoe>: Ugh... every time I make a mistake while investigating, the cost of living becomes a crisis.

<Kay>: But the one who is in the most danger right now is Mr. Edgeworth, isn't it? I saw it in a commercial! He’s having his “biggest crisis!”

<Gumshoe>: I heard it too ... What kind of mistake did you make, sir?

<Edgeworth>: Don’t compare me to you! I don’t know what it is, but I’m not afraid of any crisis. No matter what happens, I simply do what I think is right.

<Kay>: As expected of Mr. Edgeworth! Well, you can always count on this Great Thief to help you in an emergency!

<Gumshoe>: Of course, I will help too! If you want to manage your living expenses in a crisis, sir, just leave it to me!

<Edgeworth>: First, could you try helping me as a detective?

-----

<Kay>: By the way, Mr. Edgeworth, what kind of person is your father?

<Edgeworth>: … Why would you suddenly ask such a question?

<Kay>: I just asked Mr. Shields. He said your father was a very good person! I also respect my dad, so I was a little curious about yours.

<Edgeworth>: When I was a child, he was someone I highly respected, and… the kind of man I aspired to be.

<Kay>: Huh? Is it different now?

<Edgeworth>: ……… About that… It’s difficult to explain. If you want to know the answer, please wait until tomorrow.

<Kay>: I see! The answer is hidden in Ace Attorney Investigations 2. I’ll be sure to steal the truth about Mr. Edgeworth!

-----

<Kay>: Gummy! Please decorate it from the right side!

<Gumshoe>: Here it is! Oh no, the decoration fell!

<Edgeworth>: What are you doing in my office in the middle of my workday?

<Gumshoe>: I’m off duty, but since today’s the eve of the release date, I’m preparing a party!

<Kay>: It's almost time to tweet! Mr. Edgeworth, please work and just ignore us!

<Edgeworth>: If you truly want that, then please stop climbing on my desk. … I’ll finish work soon, so please wait until then. 

<Kay>: Eh! Are you going to help us?

<Edgeworth>: I would like to celebrate.

<Gumshoe>: That’s helpful, sir! Then, I’ll be sitting on the sofa and waiting until it’s time!

<Edgeworth>: ‥‥‥‥‥‥‥ Just wait in the corridor.

-----

<Gumshoe>: Cheers for the release of Ace Attorney Investigations 2!

<Edgeworth>: Hmm ... This party for the eve of the release is rather nice.

<Kay>: Ehehe. Tomorrow, we’ll give it our all!

<Edgeworth>: Umm. Thank you very much.

<Kay>: This is the last of our tweets ... It's a little regrettable.

<Edgeworth>: But I’m glad I had this opportunity to directly express my gratitude for the week. Those who were watching our tweets… let me thank you again.

<Gumshoe>: I still have something to talk about, but we’re already out of time!

<Kay>: But the eve of the release has only just begun! After this, you can talk to the development staff of “Ace Attorney Investigations 2” directly!

<Gumshoe>: Oh! Is that the plan?

<Kay>: I’m certain, because it’s information I stole from Capcom! It seems like it will start around 18:00!

<Edgeworth>: I do have a lot to ask, but let's leave that to the followers. Well then, excuse us for now.

<Edgeworth>: If you have any questions for the development staff, please quickly send them in!

------

Translation notes first:

The localized foods are as follows: 

dorayaki -> Samurai Dogs (since Missile also has a habit of eating those, though I don’t believe the original was dorayaki?)

somen -> instant ramen

katsudon -> pork roast

shirataki -> plain pasta

The “bean-throwing festival” is Setsubun, a festival where you toss soybeans and eat some in order to toss out bad luck and bring in good luck (to my understanding, please correct me if I’m wrong). What Kay said (minus the Great Thief part) is one translation of  a phrase you shout while throwing the beans. I obviously gave up on trying to localize this.

------

Original Japanese (minus breaks):

〈ミツルギ〉：『逆転検事２　発売直前記念』として、私が日頃思っていることを“つぶやく”ように言われたのだが‥‥どうすればいいのだろうか？

〈ミクモ〉：ダメですよミツルギさん！まずは自己紹介からしないと！

〈ミツルギ〉：ム。紹介が遅れてすまない。私の名前は御剣怜侍、地方検事局で検事をしている。ミクモくんに教えてもらったのだが、これが“ついたー”というものなのだな。

〈ミクモ〉：違いますよ！“ツイッター”ですってば！

〈ミツルギ〉：“ついったー”か。こういったアレは、あまり得意ではないのだが‥‥。

〈ミクモ〉：まあまあ。逆転検事２も発売間近ですし、ミツルギさんも言いたいこといっぱいあるでしょ？

〈ミツルギ〉：ム。確かにこういった機会は少ないから貴重ではあるな。

〈ミクモ〉：それじゃ、この大ドロボウ・一条美雲ちゃんが、つぶやく面白さをミツルギさんに教えちゃいますよー！

〈ミツルギ〉：そちらはあまり興味がないが‥‥まあいいだろう。それよりミクモくん。そろそろ仕事を始めたいのだが？

〈ミクモ〉：はーい！　それじゃ、また後で遊びに来ますね！

〈ミツルギ〉：（まあ、気になったことがあれば気軽につぶやくとするか）

〈ミクモ〉：ミツルギさん‥‥。心の声がつぶやきに出てますよ！興味津々じゃないですか！

〈ミツルギ〉：なッ！ついったー‥‥あなどれんな。

〈ミツルギ〉：もう１２時か‥‥優雅にランチといきたいところだが、そうもいかないようだ。先ほど刑事から新たな事件の報��が入ったのでな。いま、現場に向かっているところだ。

〈ミツルギ〉：イトノコギリ刑事は、“大事な物をなくした”と慌てていたようだが‥‥どうせたいした物ではないだろう。いまは捜査に集中するべきだ。現場に隠された真実を知るには、入念な捜査を必要とする。デスクワークだけでは分からないことも多いのだ。

〈ミツルギ〉：‥‥現場に到着だ。ム？被害者の近くに“えんぴつ”が落ちているようだな。

〈ミツルギ〉：情報同士の共通点を探す。それこそが《ロジック》を追うということだ。逆転検事２でも《ロジック》を組み立てることが捜査の重要なカギを握っている。現場に残された“えんぴつ”と“イトノコギリ刑事がなくした物”‥‥２つの情報から導き出せる答えは１つ。

〈ミツルギ〉：イトノコギリ刑事！キミが無くしたというえんぴつが見つかったようだ。‥‥現場に余計な証拠品を残さないように。

〈ミツルギ〉：ふむ‥‥‥‥ようやく現場の真実が見えてきた。この事件は早急に解決できそうだ。

〈ミクモ〉：こんばんわ！約束通り遊びにきましたよ！

〈イトノコ〉：いらっしゃいッス！ミクモちゃん！ 

〈ミクモ〉：あれ？ノコちゃんもツイッターやってるんだ？

〈イトノコ〉：刑事仲間の間でも流行ってるッスよ。フォロワーもどんどん増えて、うれしい限りッス！

〈ミツルギ〉：‥‥“フォロワー”とは何なのだろうか？ 

〈イトノコ〉：えーと。自分のつぶやきを読んでくれる人たちのことッス。簡単に説明すると“トモダチの輪”って感じッスかねえ。

〈ミクモ〉：このつぶやきを見てくれている人たちも、たくさんいるみたいですよ！えへへ。なんだかうれしいですね！

〈ミツルギ〉：ふむ。トモダチの輪‥‥か。少々恥ずかしくもあるが、ありがたいことだな。

〈ミクモ〉：うーん。フォロワーとトモダチとはちょっと違うような気もしますケド‥‥。ま。喜んでいるみたいなのでいいや！ 

〈ミツルギ〉：明日も“ついったー”で、フォロワーに恥じぬ時間を過ごすとしよう。

〈イトノコ〉：お待ちしてたッスよ！御剣検事！

〈ミツルギ〉：ム。おはようイトノコギリ刑事。私よりはやく裁判所に着くとはめずらしいな。

〈イトノコ〉：フォロワーのみんなに、カッコ悪いとこを見せられないッスからね！遅刻しないように、昨夜は夕飯を抜いておいたッスよ。

〈ミツルギ〉：夕飯を抜くのと早起きをするのに、何の関係があるというのだ。

〈イトノコ〉：すさまじい“腹時計”で、朝ご飯の時間に目覚めることが出来るッス！

〈ミツルギ〉：（問題が多すぎて、指摘する気にもなれん。‥‥ここはあえて黙っているとしよう）

〈イトノコ〉：御剣検事‥‥。心の声のつぶやきが自分にも見えるの、分かってやってるッスよね‥‥？ 

〈ミツルギ〉：そろそろ開廷の時間だ。余計なセンサクをしていないで、法廷に向かうぞ。

〈ミクモ〉：みなさんこんにちは！大ドロボウ・ヤタガラスこと一条美雲です。ふっふっふ‥‥実はいま、傍聴席にいるんですよ！敵情視察も兼ねて、ミツルギさんとノコちゃんの法廷姿を見ておこうと思って！ 

〈ミクモ〉：あ！ミツルギさんがまた『異議あり！』って叫んでる！今日はこれで５回目ですねー。相手の弁護士さんも汗だらだら流してますよ。裁判官の木槌も激しくなってます！えーとなになに？“法廷内でのつぶやきは却下しま‥‥す？”え。ちょ、ちょっと！ 

〈ミクモ〉：ううう‥‥‥‥法廷内から追い出されちゃいました。さすがは逆転検事２の新ライバル“水鏡　秤”さん！優しそうな裁判官だと思ってユダンしていました。

〈ミクモ〉：これは思わぬ強敵ですよ！ミツルギさん、大丈夫かなあ‥‥？ 

〈ミツルギ〉：ミクモくん。今日は一体傍聴席で何をしていたのだ。

〈イトノコ〉：法廷から追い出されるミクモちゃんを見て、ビックリしたッスよ！

〈ミクモ〉：まさかつぶやきが禁止とは思いませんでした‥‥。大ドロボウとして、一生の不覚です！

〈ミツルギ〉：後悔するヒマがあるのなら、法廷のルールについてもう少し学んでおきたまえ。

〈ミクモ〉：どうせ退廷させられるのなら、もっとカッコ良く立ち去りたかったです！大ドロボウとしては！ 

〈イトノコ〉：‥‥そっちで後悔しているとは思わなかったッス。

〈ミクモ〉：それはともかく！　今日はもうお仕事終わりなんですよね？

〈ミツルギ〉：今日の法廷で仕事は一段落ついたからな。気持ちよく休日をむかえられそうだ。

〈ミクモ〉：せっかくだから、いまから３人で遊びに行きましょうよ！ボーリングとかカラオケとか‥‥ゲームセンターとか！

〈ミツルギ〉：いや‥‥私はそういったものはあまり得意ではないのだが。

〈イトノコ〉：まあまあ。金曜日の夜はパーッと遊んで、仕事の疲れを癒すものッスよ！映画とかもいいッスねえ！

〈ミクモ〉：今週もお仕事お疲れ様でした！さあさあ。遊びに行きましょう！

〈ミツルギ〉：まったく。いまのキミたちには何を言ってもムダのようだな。‥‥せめて、映画にしてくれたまえ。

〈イトノコ〉：土曜日の朝は散歩日和ッスねえ！ミサイル。体力作りとミサイルの訓練も兼ねて、たまに一緒に散歩してるッスよ。御剣検事の“パートナー”として、逆転検事２では自分も役に立ちたいッスからね！ 

〈イトノコ〉：金属探知機を使った捜査やミサイルとの連携なら、誰にも負けないッス！ねー。ミサイル！ん？何か気になるニオイでもあるッスか？ああああッ！ミ、ミサイルが走って行っちまったッス！ミサイルは食べ物のニオイがすると突っ走っちゃうッスよ。

〈イトノコ〉：こうなったら自分もニオイを頼りに追いかけるしか！こっちも捜査のプロッスからね！うぅ‥‥‥‥‥‥さっそく見失っちまったッス。こうなったら、ミサイルが好きなお菓子を用意しておびきよせるッス！‥‥本末転倒な気もするッスけど‥‥。

〈ミクモ〉：警察犬にしておくには惜しいですね、ミサイル。まさか大ドロボウから“どら焼き”を盗み食いするなんて‥‥！せっかく、あかねちゃんと２人で食べようとしてたのになあ。

〈イトノコ〉：おどろかせてすまねッス。ところで、さっきは２人で何をしてたッスか？落ち葉をこんなに集めて‥‥。

〈アカネ〉：ヒゾウのカガク薬品でおこした火を利用して、あったか～い “焼きどら焼き”を作ろうかと！

〈イトノコ〉：え。カガク薬品ッスか‥‥？ミミミミミサイル！お腹の調子は悪くないッスか！

〈ミクモ〉：大丈夫だよ！火をおこす前に食べられちゃったから。

〈イトノコ〉：ほっ。だったら良かったッス。

〈ミツルギ〉：ぜんぜん良くないだろう。カガク薬品を使って、公共の場で火遊びなど。あかねさん。カガクの研究は大事ですが、ほどほどにしていただきたい。

〈アカネ〉：はい！ほどほどにします！ところで、どこかにお出かけですか？

〈ミツルギ〉：ええ。少し用事がありまして‥‥。あまり時間がないので、失礼します。

〈ミクモ〉：‥‥ミツルギさん、どこに行くんだろうね？

〈アカネ〉：ふっふっふ。そんなときは足跡を辿ればいいんですよ！ほどほどにカガクの力を使って！

〈ミクモ〉：よーし！ほどほどに尾行しましょう！

〈イトノコ〉：２人とも‥‥ほどほどの使い方がおかしい気がするッス。

〈ミクモ〉：あの圧倒的なスケール！涙なしには語れません！オーケストラコンサートなんて初めてです！

〈アカネ〉：金管楽器の力強い音と、木管楽器の華麗な旋律！音のカガク変化を起こすことで、音楽は作られているんですね‥‥。

〈ミツルギ〉：うム。この日を楽しみにしていたかいがあったというものだ。‥‥まさか、キミたちまでついてくるとは思わなかったがな。

〈ミクモ〉：ノコちゃんにも聞かせてあげたかったな−。ミサイルの散歩があるから、一緒に来られなかったんですよね。

〈ミツルギ〉：刑事には、サウンドトラックＣＤ「オーケストラ・アレンジ楽曲集　〜奏でられし逆転〜」を聞かせるとしよう。いまからでもイーカプコンで予約出来るだろう。

〈アカネ〉：あたしはもちろん予約済みです！御剣検事さんの“1/10フィギュア”もバッチリゲットしますよ！

〈ミツルギ〉：私の1/10フィギュア？身長などを測られた覚えはないが‥‥。

〈ミクモ〉：そりゃもう、わたしがミツルギさんの情報をバッチリ盗んでおきましたからね！ 

〈ミツルギ〉：オーケストラホールで言うのはいささかためらわれるが‥‥一言だけ、言わせていただこう。

〈ミクモ〉：“異議あり！”‥‥ってね！

〈ミツルギ〉：な‥‥なぜキミが言うのだ！ 

〈アカネ〉：これが有名な大ドロボウの技“言葉を盗む”ですね。勉強になります！

〈ミツルギ〉：今日は特に予定が入っていない。近くの喫茶店で読書をして過ごすとしよう。‥‥さすがに、日曜日ぐらいは落ち着いて過ごしたいからな。

〈ミツルギ〉：心地よい日の当たる場所で、上質の紅茶を飲む‥‥。今日は良い休日になりそうだ。

〈ミツルギ〉：そういえば、先日“カオルさん”というフォロワーから、ついったーでアイサツされたのだが‥‥。アイサツを返す方法が分からなかったので、まだ返せていないのだ。ここで改めて礼を言わせていただこう。カオルさん、フォローしていただき感謝する。

〈オバチャン〉：ミ‥‥ミッちゃぁああん！やっと見つけたよぉおおお！

〈ミツルギ〉：ぐッ！ど、どうしてあなたがこの喫茶店に‥‥！

〈オバチャン〉：やだよミッちゃん！こないだこのツイッターとやらでアイサツしたじゃないか。さっきも“カオルさん、感謝する。”って言ってくれただろう？オバチャンうれしくなっちゃってねえ。ついついそこいらの喫茶店を巡ってミッちゃんを探しちまったのさ。愛のチカラっ

〈ミツルギ〉：は、早口すぎて“ついーと”におさまっていないではないか！しかも、“カオルさん”とは‥‥‥‥あなたのことだったのか！いくら喫茶店を巡ったといっても、こんなにカンタンに見つかるワケはない。‥‥何か隠していることがあるのではないか？ 

〈オバチャン〉：ミッちゃんったら、証拠もないのにそんなこと言っちゃ検事の名がすたれちゃうよ！オバチャンがミッちゃんに隠し事なんてするわけないじゃないのサ！

〈ミツルギ〉：フッ‥‥証拠品がなくとも、あなたの反応や感情を読み取り“言葉のみ”で真実を引き出してみせよう。

〈オバチャン〉：ああ。それならオバチャンも聞いたよ、ミッちゃん！《ロジックチェス》っていうヤツだろ？オバチャン、ミッちゃんのことなら何でも知ってるんだからね！

〈ミツルギ〉：“何でも知っている？”‥‥とはどういうことだろうか？

〈オバチャン〉：ほら。オバチャン警備員だからさ。このあいだ、前に勤めてた子がクビになったっていうから臨時で検事局の警備をしてたんだヨ。そのときにミッちゃんの住所がたまたま目に入っちゃってサ。

〈ミツルギ〉：‥‥‥‥こちらから情報を引き出すまでもなく、自分で答えを言っているではないか！ 

〈オバチャン〉：あら。つい口が滑っちまったヨ。せっかくロジックチェスが見られると思ったのに残念だねえ。

〈ミツルギ〉：そ、それは逆転検事２で見ていただけないだろうか。私は用事があるので失礼する！

〈オバチャン〉：今日は用事がないってつぶやいてたじゃないか！今日という今日は、オバチャン絶対に逃がさないヨッ！ 

〈ミツルギ〉：く‥‥今日はさんざんな目にあった。

〈ミツルギ〉：休日だからといって気を抜きすぎていたな。自分の発言や周囲の警戒を怠っていたとは‥‥。

〈ミツルギ〉：ム？また“カオルさん”から私あてに“ついーと”が来ているな。『残念無念　カオル』‥‥と言われても、断じて誘いに乗るつもりはない！

〈イトノコ〉：御剣検事、聞いたッスか？ロウ捜査官が西鳳民国から来ているみたいッスよ！

〈ミツルギ〉：ほう。また国際的な事件に関わっているのだろうか。彼とはあまりゆっくり話す機会が無かったからな。時間があればアイサツぐらいは行くとしよう。

〈イトノコ〉：前回の事件は大変だったッスからねー。自分も、ロウ捜査官の部下の皆さんとはあんまり話せなかったッス。

〈イトノコ〉：なんせ知ってるだけでも１００名はいるッスからねえ。

〈ミツルギ〉：‥‥全員と話そうとすれば、日が暮れてしまうだろうな。

〈イトノコ〉：正直、顔と名前を覚えるのもあきらめたッス。

〈ミツルギ〉：すべてをあきらめているではないか！ 

〈ロウ〉：よう。検事さん。こんなところで会うとはキグウだな。

〈ミツルギ〉：久しぶりだな、ロウ捜査官。まさか、このような飲食店で再会するとは思わなかったが。

〈ロウ〉：どっか１人で落ち着ける店を探してたら、たまたまここが目に入ったんでな。

〈ミツルギ〉：１人‥‥？キミにしてはめずらしいではないか。いつもの部下たちは一緒ではないのだろうか？ 

〈ロウ〉：まあな‥‥。狼子、曰く！“単独犯の気持ちを知るには、群れを離れるべし”ってな。オレだって１人になるときはあるさ。

〈ミツルギ〉：ほう？だが、それにしてはキミのテーブルにはムジュンがあるようだ。

〈ロウ〉：ハッ！検事さんお得意の“推理”ってやつかい？

〈ミツルギ〉：１人で食べるにしては、注文した料理は“大皿”ばかりで、量はどう見ても２０人以上に見えるのだが？

〈ロウ〉：うおおおッ！‥‥しまった。いつものクセでつい頼みすぎちまったようだ。よければ検事さん、少しもらってくれねえか？ 

〈ミツルギ〉：‥‥１人で行動するのは、あまり得意ではないようだな。

〈ミクモ〉：ええ！ロウさん、またこっちに来てるんですか？

〈ミツルギ〉：ああ。以前と違い、なぜか１人で行動していたようだ。

〈ミクモ〉：それは、やっぱり大人数だと忍び込むのが難しくなるからじゃないですか？大ドロボウの鉄則です！ 

〈ミツルギ〉：彼は“国際捜査官”だろう。‥‥なんにせよ、彼には目的があってこの国に来ているようだったな。

〈ミクモ〉：それじゃ、また現場で会うかもしれませんねー。

〈ミツルギ〉：真実を追い求める気持ちは同じでも、時にはぶつかることもある。もし現場で出会うことがあれば、戦うことになるかもしれないな。

〈ミクモ〉：いいなあ。わたしも自分を高めてくれるようなライバルが欲しいです。ハア‥‥どこかにいないかなあ。大ドロボウを追い詰める好敵手！

〈ミツルギ〉：‥‥逮捕されたいのなら、イトノコギリ刑事にでも頼みたまえ。

〈ミクモ〉：もう！そういうことじゃないんです！ 

〈ミクモ〉：ようやく２月になりましたね！ 

〈ミツルギ〉：ああ。いよいよだな‥‥。

〈イトノコ〉：２月３日が楽しみッス！

〈イトノコ〉：ウチの警察署では、節分の豆まきをやるッス！２月３日は、タダで大豆が食べられる貴重な日ッスよ！

〈ミクモ〉：わたしは毎年、投げられる豆をどれだけ受け取れるか挑戦してるんですよ！“鬼は外、福は内、大ドロボウは盗み”って感じで！ 

〈ミツルギ〉：‥‥一番大事なことを、忘れているのではないだろうか？

〈ミクモ〉：冗談ですってば！２月３日といえば、もちろんアレですよね！

〈イトノコ〉：逆転検事２の発売日を忘れるワケないッス！

〈ミツルギ〉：ム‥‥ならばいいのだが。

〈ミツルギ〉：発売まであと３日。フォロワーの方々も楽しみに待っていてくれたまえ。

〈ミツルギ〉：冬場の捜査は、寒くてかなわないな‥‥。発売前に風邪を引くわけにはいかん。しっかり防寒対策をしなければな。

〈ミツルギ〉：そういえば、イトノコギリ刑事は年中同じコートを着ているが、寒くないのだろうか‥‥。ああ‥‥単に、給与が下がりすぎて買えないだけかもしれないな。

〈ミツルギ〉：‥‥‥‥夕食はイトノコギリ刑事でも誘うとするか。彼の食生活は、はた目から見ていても不安になる。まさか冬にそうめんを食べていることはないだろうが‥‥。

〈ミツルギ〉：検事局の近くに手打ちのうどん屋がある。リーズナブルな値段の割に、味も満足のいくものだ。‥‥‥‥いかん。イトノコギリ刑事を誘うとなると、ついつい麺類にばかり考えがいってしまうな。

〈ミツルギ〉:ム。さきほど発売まであと３日とつぶやいたのだが、発売日はあさって‥‥あと２日だったか。昨夜は、執務室で徹夜仕事だったのでな。日付の感覚が狂ってしまったようだ。

〈ミツルギ〉:私としたことが、つぶやきが“ムジュン”していたとは‥‥失礼した。指摘してくれたフォロワーの方、感謝する。

〈イトノコ〉：カツ丼美味いッスぅううう！今年初めてのトンカツッスよ！

〈ミツルギ〉：イトノコギリ刑事。つぶやきながら食べるのはやめたまえ！

〈イトノコ〉：自分、今年は水炊き鍋で“しらたき”ばかり食べてたッスからねー。

思わず叫んじまったッス！

〈ミクモ〉：叫んだんじゃなく、つぶやきですけどね！

〈ミツルギ〉：ソーメンではなかったが、彼の食生活はいつも危機的状況だな。

〈イトノコ〉：うう‥‥捜査で失敗するたびに、生活費がピンチになるッスからね‥‥。

〈ミクモ〉：でも、いま一番危機が迫っているのは、ミツルギさんのほうなんじゃ？

ＣＭで見ましたよ！“最大のピンチ”だって。

〈イトノコ〉：自分も聞いたッスよ‥‥。いったい、どんな失敗をしちゃったッスか！ 

〈ミツルギ〉：キミと一緒にしないでくれたまえ！

身に覚えはないが‥‥ピンチを恐れていても仕方がないだろう。

私は、自分の信じる道を行くだけだ。

〈ミクモ〉：さっすがミツルギさん！いざとなったらわたしも力を貸しますからね。大ドロボウとして！

〈イトノコ〉：もちろん自分もッス！ピンチな時の生活費のやりくりならお任せッス！ 

〈ミツルギ〉：‥‥せめて、刑事として力を貸してもらえないだろうか。

〈ミクモ〉：そういえば。ミツルギさんのお父さんって、どんな人なんですか？

〈ミツルギ〉：‥‥なぜ、いきなりそんな質問を？

〈ミクモ〉：さっき信楽さんに聞いたんですよ。ミツルギさんのお父さんは、すごく立派な人だったって！わたしもお父さんを尊敬してたから、ちょっと気になっちゃって。

〈ミツルギ〉：幼い頃の私にとっては、尊敬すべき相手であり‥‥目標でもあった。

〈ミクモ〉：あれ？いまは違うんですか？ 

〈ミツルギ〉：‥‥‥‥どうだろうな。一言で説明するのは難しい。この答えを知りたいのならば、明日まで待ってくれたまえ。

〈ミクモ〉：なるほど！逆転検事２に真実が隠されている‥‥と。ミツルギさんの真実、私が盗んじゃいますよ！

〈ミクモ〉：ノコちゃん！そっちの飾りは、もっと右よりでお願い！

〈イトノコ〉：こっちッスね！あ、飾りが落ちたッス！ 

〈ミツルギ〉：昼間から、人の執務室で何をしているのだ。

〈イトノコ〉：今日は非番ッスからね！明日の発売日に向けて、前夜祭の準備をしてるッスよ！ 

〈ミクモ〉：そろそろ、つぶやく時間もなくなって来ましたからね！

ミツルギさんは気にせず仕事をしててください！

〈ミツルギ〉：そう思うのなら、机の上にのぼるのはやめていただきたい。

‥‥もう少しで仕事が片付くから、それまで待っていたまえ。

〈ミクモ〉：え！ミツルギさんも手伝ってくれるんですか？

〈ミツルギ〉：私とて祝いたい気持ちはあるのだ。

〈イトノコ〉：助かるッス！

それじゃ時間までソファーに座って待ってるッスよ！

〈ミツルギ〉：‥‥‥‥‥‥廊下で遊んでいてくれないだろうか。

〈イトノコ〉：逆転検事２発売に向けて、乾杯ッス！ 

〈ミツルギ〉：フッ‥‥前夜祭というのも良いものだな。

〈ミクモ〉：えへへ。明日には、わたしたちのカツヤクをお見せできるんですね！ 

〈ミツルギ〉：うム。感慨深いモノがあるな。

〈ミクモ〉：わたしたちのつぶやきも、これで最後になるんですね‥‥ちょっと名���惜しいです。

〈ミツルギ〉：だが一週間のあいだ、このような機会をいただけて良かった。直接、感謝を伝えることが出来るのだからな。私たちのつぶやきを見ていた方々。‥‥あらためて礼を言わせていただこう。

〈イトノコ〉：まだまだ話したいことはあるッスけど、もう時間ッスからね！

〈ミクモ〉：でも、まだ前夜祭は始まったばかりですよ！なんと！このあと「逆転検事２」の開発スタッフに直接質問ができちゃうんです！ 

〈イトノコ〉：へえ！そんな企画があるッスか！

〈ミクモ〉：カプコンから盗んできた情報だから、確実ですよ！１８時ぐらいから始まるそうです！

〈ミツルギ〉：私としても聞きたいことはたくさんあるのだが‥‥そこはフォロワーの方々に任せるとしよう。それでは、私たちはこれで失礼する。

〈ミツルギ〉：開発スタッフに聞きたいことがあれば、どんどん追及してくれたまえ！

#ace attorney #aai2 #(no spoilers though!) #miles edgeworth #kay faraday #detective gumshoe #my posts #really hoping there isn't some egregious error in there hahaha! #also hoping someone appreciates it half as much as I do #but even if no one does this was fun to look at

[anntoldst0ries]

None shall sleep (Ethan x MC)

Book: Open Heart 3, post Chapter 5 Pairing: Dr Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr Noelle Valentine) Word Count/Rating: ~1.8k, T Summary: In the privacy of the diagnostic's office, Ethan & Noelle reflect on recent changes around them. Category/Warnings: Fluff, None Trope: And there was a bit of Hurt/Comfort

A/N: This chapter reminded me of things that have never been addressed... so this is a story of how things left unsaid all collided in my head. Hope you enjoy.

Also - yes, Ethan Ramsey can sing arias. Is anyone still truly surprised by the fact that this guy can do anything?

There is something mesmerizing about watching the lights of day go out, overpowered by darkness, ablaze with colours - from the depths of blue, through indigo, navy and all the way to pitch-black.

About how, in a sense, it washes away all the bothers and allows you to start anew with the next rise of the almighty sun.

Ethan Ramsey was hoping for this exactly, maybe more than ever, but all the signs showed it wasn’t in the cards for him.

Or at least not today.

He stared into the void, interwoven by occasional human figures passing by through the front lobby. No voices of the day were able to reach him on the 7th floor of his kingdom. Behind the glass wall, he was almost in a different world.

It had been yet another day that brought him more gritted teeth, holding himself back and resigned sighs, than actual satisfaction from helping those who counted on him. All these ‘activities’ were not only annoying but also highly energy-consuming.

Bringing the index and middle fingertips to his pulsating temples, he started to compress and massage them in small circles, trying to soothe the pounding inside his skull. He could hear the blood rushing through the highways of his veins, the sound almost drowning out all external stimuli.

But there were certain sounds his expert ear was trained on, the ones he would’ve recognized even in his sleep.

Like the one reaching his ears right now, the sound of the door handle being pressed.

With his back facing the door, he couldn’t see who was trying to impose on his much-needed solitude. But since the unexpected guest did not precede their ministrations by knocking, the possibilities narrowed down significantly. There were only two people on the premises of Edenbrook who could invade his personal space without a modicum of manners.

“Can I help you?” He modulated his voice to ensure the tone was expressing two things: annoyance and irony in the otherwise polite question.

“I’m sorry.” From all the voices, this one he did not expect to hear now. A melodic tone was joined by a scuffle of retreating steps. “Do you want me to go?”

Ethan curled his lips in a tiny smile. They both knew she wasn’t apologetic and that he wanted anything but her to leave.

“No, it’s just that there are only two people in this hospital that wouldn’t bother knocking and I thought it was one of them paying me a visit.”

“Let me guess… Zaid and Baz?”

“No, but in terms of concept, you were actually close…just another type of evil ‘twins’."

“Oh, you mean his majesty King Bloom & his annoyance Dr Carrick?”

“Even as a joke, it sounds creepy and horrible.”

“Well, count me as a third now. Heads up though, I will only stop knocking after twilight.”

It was clear as crystal Ethan’s already specific sense of humor had less than ever space for amusement.

“I brought you this.” She put a brown paper bag on his desk, which immediately revealed the aroma of something delicious. “I figured you’re probably gonna stay here all night, so I thought I’ll pop over and check on you.”

He didn’t say anything, staring into the darkness. Not because he didn’t want to - he simply didn’t know what. This simple gesture was very touching and filled him with gratitude. But he was lacking the right words.

Then, for the first time since she’s interrupted his train of thought, he turned around to look at her. Tired and with puffy eyes, she’d still put everyone else to shame. Even on the worst of days, the light radiating from her turned heads and made the room brighter.

She extended a hand and when their fingers touched, he felt this weird, tingly feeling that has traveled from his palm, through his arm and neck, and then straight to his core.

Pressing him gently against the edge of the desk, she took his glasses off. Then loosened his tie and nonchalantly disheveled his hair. Ethan wouldn’t let anyone else in the world touch them, let alone put them in a state of such disarray.

With her, all the rules existed only to be broken.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on in this big brain of yours?”

“Smart move, Valentine. You’ve pacified me so that now I will have no choice but to tell you whatever you want to know.”

“You always have a choice, let’s just hope you’re gonna make the right one.”

Ethan nodded, no sound escaping his lips. She knew she’d have to take it upon herself to get any information out of her stubborn converser.

“So, how are you holding up? I want an honest answer."

“I’ve been better.”

“I thought so.”

“It’s just that… Tobias is driving me crazy. His presence really tests my patience… I don’t know if I would’ve stopped myself from punching him had it not been for you.”

“Why thank you, I didn’t know my therapeutic services were that good.”

“They are.” Ethan cleared his throat. “But it’s… not just that.”

Dead silence lingered between them and he knew he had no other choice but to continue.

“The only reason why I haven’t wiped this ridiculous smirk off his face yet is that whenever I look at him, I… I see you in that room with Travis. I’m trying to remind myself that, as much as I hate to admit it, he was crucial to finding the cure on such short notice.”

“Ethan…”

“I already told you” - he interrupted her as if not to stop the words from flowing, afraid they may be trapped forever otherwise - “that there was so much more at stake last time Tobias set foot in Edenbrook.”

She took a deep breath, her eyes going slightly wider.

“The truth is, for me… everything was at stake. I would’ve done anything he’d asked me to, I’d have forgiven him if it meant saving you.”

Elle turned still, all her body movements, her breathing and even her blinking ceased.

It was one of those moments that mean so much but leave you with so little to say.

Using the power of non-verbal communication and their deep affinity, she bestowed on him the most gentle, loving and grateful expression her face could muster after yet another exhausting shift.

Ethan extended his arm and before she realized it, her back was gently pressed to the older doctor’s chest. Having wrapped her slender frame with his broad shoulders, Elle inhaled his familiar aroma. He smelled of comfort and felt like a safe harbor. He nudged her hair with his nose and placed a featherlight kiss on the crook of her neck. She smelled of calmness and felt like coming back home from a long journey.

“So,” - he murmured directly into her ear - “whether you like it or not, I am using you to soften the blow every time I look at Tobias’ face.”

“I think I can live with that.”

“But I can’t guarantee it will always be enough, he is a cocky son of a bitch.”

“Let's make a deal then. I see how much it costs you and I’m not telling you to trust Leland or forgive Tobias, I still believe you should be cautious. Let’s just wait and see where this goes, I think we’ll know sooner rather than later. In the meantime, we should focus on what matters the most, our patients.”

“Where is the deal part?”

“If it turns out you were right, I will hold Tobias and you will punch him. Deal?”

“I believe it should be the other way round. Declan Nash’s face told me your right hook is exquisite, Rookie.”

They both laughed at the memory which seemed so distant now, almost as if it's happened in another lifetime.

But Ethan went quiet again and she felt his body tense up, his arms tightening gently around her. It wasn’t very obvious, but she knew. It still came as a shock how well she actually knew him.

“Ethan? What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Ethan.”

“I’m sorry, I am not the most cheery companion today. You’re probably better off not spending too much time with me before you turn into a cynic.”

“Dr Ramsey, what a pathetic attempt of trying to get rid of me. You’ve never been the most cheerful type and I’ve survived your gloomy companionship, hell, I think it grew on me over time. So I should be ok today, too.”

It looked like silence was very much their third companion today.

“I’m thinking about Francis.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“I’m thinking about how hard it would be not to see. So many beautiful things, colors, all turning into nothingness.”

“I take it you mean the opera?”

“That too, but let’s just say I’ve learned to appreciate things that are right in front of my nose… literally and figuratively.”

The butterflies started somersaulting in her stomach.

“I didn’t want to add more to your plate at the time, but I’ve already felt this way… when we diagnosed Caroline and Leland.”

It was funny that, despite his obvious animosity towards Bloom, whenever his wife was in the picture, he spoke about both in an almost affectionate way. His doctor’s instincts were kicking in, because first and foremost he was a doctor who had his patients’ best interest at heart.

“The thought of not being able to touch you…it reminded me of touching you through the layer of hazmat suit. And now with everything Francis has been through, I just can’t be bothered to think about anything else but you. This is my true personal connection to this case.”

It was her turn to be speechless.

Ethan tightened his grip over her once again, this time protectively rather than out of stress. Slow hum started filling the air, the melody soon joined by lyrics, which he sang in fluent Italian; a private concert, performed for her and her only.

Tu pure, oh Principessa

Nella tua fredda stanza

Guardi le stelle

Che tremano d'amore

E di speranza**

She remembered their patient’s face, which seemed calmer once Ethan started singing the aria before the depths of illness contorted it with pain.

Francis' husband's words echoed throughout her head.

Even though the man holding her in his arms didn’t say it, there was no need.

She knew.

He will always be here.

And she will always be here, too.

-----

** Lyrics - aria "Nessun Dorma" (‘None shall sleep’) from the opera "Turandot".

Translation:

Even you, oh Princess,

In your cold room,

Watch the stars,

That tremble with love

And with hope.

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@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

#ethan ramsey x mc #open heart #open heart fanfiction #ethan ramsey #playchoices #ethan x noelle

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LUNATIC PARADE ;; Ayato Route ー Chapter 2

ー The scene starts in the hotel room

*Rustle*

Yui: Nn...Hm...?

*Rustle*

Yui: ( ...I wonder how long I slept...? )

Ayato: Zzー... Zzー...

Yui: ( Ayato-kun’s still asleep. I better be careful not to wake him up... )

*Creaaaak*

Easy...There.

ー The scene shifts to the balcony

Yui: Hm...?

( ...What’s this smell...? )

( Somehow there’s this really nice scent coming from downstairs. ...A food vendor of some sorts, perhaps? )

*Groooowl*

Yui: ( ...Guess I’ll go take a quick look... )

ー The scene shifts to the wagon area

Pretzel vendor: Aah, miss! What do you say? Are you hungry for a freshly-baked pretzel?

Yui: ( Wah...There’s more different kinds of pretzels than I thought... )

Pretzel vendor: I studied the art of the pretzel for an extended time over in the human world, so I can guarantee the taste.

They’re quite popular amongst my customers down here as well. So, which one would you like?

Yui: ( Hm...What should I do? I can’t decide... )

*Rustle*

Yui: Um...Which one would you recommend?

Pretzel vendor: A recommendation, huh? ...I’d love to say I would recommend them all but...Let’s see...

Male punk A: Oi, old geezer. Give us one of those pretzel things as well.

Pretzel vendor: ...Aah In that case, please get in line over there.

Male punk B: Aah!? We’re askin’ for some right now. Come on, hand them over!

*THUD*

Yui: ...!

ー The crowd grows restless

Yui: ( What’s their problem...? )

Pretzel vendor: Don’t be ridiculous! I’ve got other customers waiting in line. ...!?

*THUD*

Male punk A: ...Oi, old geezer. Who do you think you’re talkin’ to, huh? You want us to get in queue? 

Male punk B: If you keep tryin’ to get all cute with us, we’ll ensure you’ll never do business here again, understood? Take that!

*THUD*

Yui: ( This is outrageous...! )

E-Excuse me...!

Male punk B: Aah? What’s this chick’s problem...?

Yui: Why would you try and pick a fight with this man when he has done nothing wrong at all...?

Pretzel vendor: ...Miss...!

Male punk A: Hah...Hilarious. This chick’s tryin’ to get in our way, see?

Male punk B: ...Seems like it. We can’t let her get away with that though.

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyaah!

( H-He’s so strong...! Oh no, at this rate...! )

???: Don’t touch her!

*THUD*

Male punk A: Uwaah!!

*Thud*

Yui: ...!?

Ayato: Oi, the fuck are you...? Don’t be tryin’ to mess with my woman!

Yui: A-Ayato-kun...!

( Don’t tell me...He jumped down from the hotel’s veranda...!? )

Male punk B: O-Oi...! You alright, mate!? ...Now you’ve done it!

Ayato: What? ...Wanna throw some fists? Fine by me? I’ll be your opponent if you’re that insistent on gettin’ your ass kicked!

Male punk B: ...F-Fuck...! Oi, let’s go!

Male punk A: Y-Yeah...Oi, we’ll remember this!!

ー The two punks run off

Ayato: Phew...Geez...Oi, Chichinashi!

Why did you sneak out while I was asleep? I was worried, you know!?

You got lucky I just so happened to look outside at the right time, but do you realize what could have gone down if I didn’t...?

I know you’re not bein’ targeted now that you don’t have your heart and all.

But that doesn’t mean you should go wanderin’ off on your own.

Yui: I-I’m sorry...

Pretzel vendor: Calm down, you. Please don’t be too harsh on her, okay?

Ayato: Aah? And who are you...?

Pretzel vendor: As you can tell, I’m the owner of this stall. Thanks to her, my precious shop wasn’t destroyed.

*Rustle*

Pretzel vendor: ...This is the only thing I can offer, but consider this my way of thanking you. Enjoy it together, okay?

Yui: Eh...?

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: ( We got so many pretzels...! )

Ayato: You sure?

Pretzel vendor: Yes, of course. Please enjoy the Parade while you can.

Yui: Thank you very much!

Ayato: ...Hmph. Well, guess I’ll have one since we got them for free anyway...

Yui: Yeah. Shall we go sit down on one of the benches over there then...?

ー They sit down

Ayato: Nn...This stuff’s not half bad, considering it’s pitch black. 

Mmh...What flavor is this though? Oi, Chichinashi. You have a bite too.

ー He leans in

Ayato: Here, open your mouth.

Yui: Eh? ...Nn...

( ...He just forced it inside...! )

*Rustle rustle*

Ayato: Hehe. How is it? Pretty good, right?

Yui: Nn...Yeah...I wonder what it could be...? It tastes a little like...black sesame?

( The vendor from earlier did say he got his training in the human world... )

Ayato: Haah? Black sesame here in the Demon World? Well, I guess it’s fine. It’s not bad and that’s what matters.

So? What are we gonna do now? We have to clear the assignment given to us by Walter, right?

Yui: Yeah...

( ...Our ‘wrongdoings’... )

( ...It has to be... )

Say, Ayato-kun? I’ve been thinking ever since...

Ayato: ...? What...?

Yui: While we were running away from the Gatekeeper after coming to the Demon World.

We caused trouble for many people, didn’t we...?

Ayato: Trouble? ...Did we?

Yui: We broke into the basement of someone else’s home, knocking over their cupboards...

Ayato: ...Oh. Now that you mention it, that did happen, didn’t it...?

Yui: So I thought maybe that’s what the Count meant with our ‘wrongdoings’...

Ayato: Hmm. Let’s assume that’s what he meant...What should we do then?

Yui: ...I’m not quite sure myself, but for now, I guess the best we can do is go and apologize...

Ayato: Haah? Apologize? That’s...

Yui: But...The Count said we should redeem ourselves so...I don’t think there’s much else we can do but say sorry...

Ayato: Hmph, I don’t like the sound of that.

Yui: ...

Ayato: But, well, I don’t exactly have a better idea either. Guess I have no other choice but to roll with your plan for now.

Yui: ...Ayato-kun...!

Ayato: ‘Kay, let’s get goin’ right away then.

Yui: ...Yeah!

( Thank you, Ayato-kun. )

ー The scene shifts to the underground passage

Yui: ( It was around here, right...? )

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyah!

Ayato: Shh, quiet!

Yui: ( ...? )

Ayato: Oi, take a look. The atmosphere’s not quite the same as yesterday.

*Knock knock*

Suspicious man A: ...It’s me. Open up.

Suspicious man B: Everyone’s present, right? ...Don’t worry, nobody should have followed us down here.

*Clunk*

Yui: It’s that room...Right?

Ayato: Yeah. I’m sure of it. It’s the basement we broke into yesterday.

I don’t know why, but they were bein’ all secretive. What’s going on?

Yui: ( Ayato-kun’s right, something seems a little off... )

*Rustle*

Yui: Anyway, it’d be bad if we were to get yelled at again for interrupting, so perhaps we should wait here for a bit?

Ayato: Che. We have to wait down here in this gloomy place?

Oi, Chichinashi. Help me kill some time. Nn...

Yui: Eh!? Hold on! Not here...!

*Rustle*

???: ...Well then, we will put our plan into action tomorrow night.

Yui: ( ...Hm? I can hear a voice from the other side of the door... )

Ayato: Come on, scoot closer.

Yui: ...! Ayato-kun, be quiet for a second...! 

ー She pushes him away

*Thud*

Ayato: ...!?

???: ...Exactly. While everyone else is too preoccupied with the Parade.

???: ...I will act as the decoy. ...As for the location, is Zartan’s Mouth okay?

???: Yes, I do not mind. However, there’s a few issues...

Yui: ( ...Is this some sort of strategy meeting...? )

Ayato: ...Oi, Chichinashi...You little...

You sure have some guts to push me away like that!

I’m gonna have to suck you right here, right now then! Come here!

Yui: A-Ayato-kun! Hold up...!

???: ...Who’s there!?

*THUD*

Owner: ...You two...You’re the people from yesterday!!

Ayato: ...!

Yui: ( T-They saw us!! )

Suspicious man A: ...Did you hear us just now!? Which means...You two must be spies, right!?

Ayato: Aah? Spies? The fuck you talkin’ ‘bout?

Yui: Spies? ...You’re wrong! We simply came here to apologize for what happened yesterday...!

Suspicious man B: Shut up! We can’t let you run free now that you’ve heard our plan!

Yui: We’re speaking the truth! We really did come here to say sorry for yesterday!

( Please believe us...! )

Owner: To apologize, huh...? Oi, brat. How about you?

Ayato: Aah!? Who do you think you’re calling a brat!? Don’t fuck with me...

But it’s exactly as she said. We did kind of invite ourselves in yesterday...

Owner: ...I see. Well, but...

You heard our plan. Furthermore...

You did quite the number on me yesterday. You can say sorry all you want, I’m not forgiving you.

Yui: ( No way...! )

Ayato: A number...?

Owner: Hmph...You knocked over one of the cupboards when you ran away, didn’t you?

My precious key broke in the process. See?

*Rustle*

Yui: ( ...It’s snapped right in half... )

I-I’m so sorry...!

Ayato: ...Hah. That’s all?

Oi, old fart. Gimme that key for a sec. I’ll fix it.

Then you’ll forgive us, right?

Owner: ...Well, I would. If you can fix it, that is.

Ayato: Aah? That’s a piece of cake, isn’t it? You just take it to a locksmith and have them fix it for you.

Yui: ( It really is that easy...right...? )

( However...Something seems a little... )

Owner: Hmph. You seem rather confident. I’ll leave this key in your care then.

*Rustle*

Owner: However, you only have until tomorrow. If you fail to repair the key by then...

Ayato: Hah, don’t worry, one day is plenty. See you later, old fart.

Let’s go, Chichinashi.

*Rustle*

Yui: Y-Yeah...

( I have a bad feeling about this...I hope it’s just my imagination... )

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the wagon area

Ayato: Let’s see, a locksmith, locksmith...Aren’t there any ‘round? ...Guess we just gotta ask someone.

???: Welcome!

Ayato: Ah, oi. Mister! Is there a locksmith somewhere ‘round here?

???: ...! You’re that brat from yesterday...!

Ayato: Ah...?

Yui: Ah! 

( This guy, if I recall correctly...! )

ー A flashback ensues

Ayato: Oi, Chichinashi! We’re takin’ a shortcut! This way!

Crepe vendor: Crepes! Who’s hungry for some fresh crepes?

Ayato: Get out of the way!

*THUD*

*CRASH*

Crepe vendor: Uwaah! My stall!

ー The flashback ends

Yui: ( From back then...! )

Crepe vendor: Oi! How dare you destroy my stall back then!?

Ayato: Haah? The fuck you talkin’ ‘bout? Anyway, hurry up and tell us where we can find a locksmith!

Crepe vendor: And why exactly should I do that?

Ayato: Aah? Excuse me...!?

Yui: ( ...! )

Selection

→ Stop him by tugging onto him (☾)

*Thud*

Yui: Ayato-kun! You can’t!

*Rustle rustle*

Ayato: ...Let go! What’s your problem!?

Yui: Calm down...!

*Rustle rustle*

→ Stop him by shouting

Yui: Ayato-kun! You can’t!

Ayato: Shut up! You keep quiet!

Yui: ( He totally forgot! )

You don’t remember how you flipped this man’s stall upside down while we were on the run yesterday!?

Ayato: Hm? R-Right...Now that you mention it, I vaguely remember somethin’ like that...

Yui: Mister! Let us apologize for what happened back then. We truly feel sorry...!

Crepe vendor: Hah! It’s a little late to apologize now.

Yui: But...We really need you to forgive us...!

( If not, we can’t complete the Count’s assignment... )

Crepe vendor: Hmph. You sure say some strange things, young lady. I’m sorry, but I don’t plan on forgiving you any time soon.

As a result, I lost half a day of business yesterday. My sales figures are doomed!

???: Calm down, sir. Don’t be so hasty.

Yui: ( ...That’s... )

Crepe vendor: ...You’re the guy who sells pretzels...

Pretzel vendor: I happen to know those two.

They helped me out when I was being pestered by a duo of punks this morning.

Crepe vendor: ...These two did?

Pretzel vendor: Yes, exactly. So, what do you say? Why don’t you do me a favor and forgive them?

Yui: ...!

Crepe vendor: ...But still...I can’t just forgive them for free...

Hm...I suppose it can’t be helped. What do you think of this offer? You have to run the shop for half a day in return.

Ayato: Run the shop? You mean the crepe stall?

Crepe vendor: Yes. I was actually just thinking of going to watch the Parade with my wife. 

If you two can take over the shop in the meantime, I’ll forgive you for what happened yesterday.

Yui: Really...!? 

Ayato: Hm, a crepe stall, huh...? Well, I don’t mind. Sounds kinda fun.

Yui: I’ll help out too! Thank you very much!

Pretzel vendor: Glad to hear! Good luck, you two.

Yui: Thank you too, sir!

Crepe vendor: I’ll teach you how to make the crepes, so come here.

Yui: Yes!

( Seems like he’ll forgive us somehow. Thank god...! )

*TIMESKIP*

Ayato: ‘Kay, let’s get straight to business. Of course, I’ll be in charge of making the crepes.

Yui: Yeah, sure.

( Fufu. Despite his complaints from earlier, he’s very motivated right now! )

ー Ayato starts baking the crepes

Ayato: Here I go! Voila!

*Plop*

Yui: Ah, Ayato-kun! If you pour on that much batter at once...

Ayato: Ah? I’m sure it’ll turn out fine somehow! Now I just gotta make it round...Huh...?

*Pshhh*

Ayato: Fuck, it’s not workin’ at all...The fuck’s goin’ on...?

Yui: A-Ayato-kun, at this rate...

( ...Actually, this smell... )

*Pshhhh*

Yui: ( ...I knew it, it’s burning!! )

Ayato: Che, fuck...This isn’t workin’ out at all. Fuck this! I’m done! It’s up to you now, Chichinashi!

Yui: Eh!? H-Hold up...!

( ...Geez, in that case...! )

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: ( ...Seems like I got the hang of it somehow...Thank god. )

Female Vampire E: Those look delicious. May I have one crepe?

Female Vampire D: Me too~!

Yui: Y-Yes! I’ll make one right awaーー

( ...What do I do? The shop suddenly got crowded. )

???: Ah-ahー Guess I can’t trust you alone with the store like this. I’ll help you out a lil’.

Yui: ...! Ayato-kun!

( Thank god, he came back...! )

Ayato: ...Oi. You over there, which flavors do you want? Make it quick!

Female Vampire E: A-Are you talking to me...? Then, caramel and...

Ayato: Hah, think again!

Yui: Eeh!?

( How could he treat a customer like that...!? )

Ayato: ...Hmー Let’s see. While I’m at it...There.

*Splatter*

Ayato: Yeah, lookin’ good! Behold, Ayato-sama’s special edition blood-drenched crepe!

Yui: Blood-drenched...!?

( There’s lots of strawberry sauce oozing out from the sides...! )

( I’m sure this will upset the customer... )

Female Vampire F: W-Wow! I’ve never seen such an innovative crepe before!!

Male Vampire D: For real...! This crepe encompasses everything a Vampire loves perfectly...!

Male Vampire E: I’d like one of those as well, sonny!

ー More customers crowd around the stall

Yui: ( A long line formed in front of the shop in no time...! )

Ayato: Hah, if you want one, you better wait there patiently!

...Oi, Chichinashi! Keep on baking those bad boys!

Yui: R-Roger...!

( I can’t quite explain why, but Ayato-kun is something else... )

*TIMESKIP*

Crepe vendor: Geez, you really did me a huge favor. Seems like the store did great business thanks to you two!

Ayato: Hah, Yours Truly made those crepes, so what else did you expect?

Crepe vendor: Haha. Anyway, let’s forget about what happened yesterday. I’ll tell you where you can find a locksmith as well.

Yui: Really?

( Thank god...! )

Thank you very much!

ー The scene shifts to Diamante Fountain

Yui: ...Hmー I’m pretty sure it should be somewhere around here...

( According to the map the crepe vendor drew for us, the locksmith should be on the plaza with the fountain... )

Ayato: Oi, hold up one sec.

Yui: Eh? ...Kyah!

*Rustle*

Yui: ( W-What...? )

Ayato: Hehe, Chichinashi. You’ve got some cream stuck on your face, you know? Just how frantic were you back there?

Yui: Eh!? 

*Rustle rustle*

Ayato: Che...Don’t move. I’ll get it for you...

Nn...Nn...

Yui: ( ...He licked it off...! )

Ayato: ...Heeh, not bad. What you’d expect from a famous place. However...

*Rustle*

...I prefer this. Nn...

*Smooch*

Yui: Nn...!

( Ayato-kun, we’re in public right now...! )

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: A-Ayato-kun...! Now’s not the time to mess around...!

Ayato: Oh? Oi, check that out! That shop has a signboard in the shape of a key. Couldn’t that be the place?

Yui: Eh!? Ah...You’re right. It might be.

Ayato: Let’s go take a look!

ー He walks towards the store

Yui: ( ...! I feel like he just skillfully talked his way out! )

*Knock knock*

Yui: Excuse me!

Ayato: Oi! Anyone ‘round!?

*Thud thud*

Yui: ( Could they be closed...? )

Flower shop owner: Yes, if you’re looking for the locksmith, he has been on vacation for quite some time.

Yui: Eh...!?

Flower shop owner: He always closes his shop during the Parade because he has very few customers at this time of year.

Yui: ( N-No way... )

Ayato: Fuck! We finally made it here and the bastard’s on holiday!? Fuck that!

Ahーah. There goes all of my motivation...I’m already exhausted after all the shit that went down today...

Yui: ( ...Now that he mentions it, I’m a little tired too... )

Ayato: Say, Chichinashi. We have until tomorrow to get the key repaired, right?

Yui: Yeah...

Ayato: Let’s go on a full-on search for the locksmith tomorrow then.

For one, I doubt we’ll have an easy time finding a stranger amidst this large of a crowd.

Yui: ( He does have a point... )

( Besides, Ayato-kun really tried his hardest today, from helping fend off those punks to selling crepes as well... )

( I want to give him some time to rest... )

Yui: ...Right. Let’s head back to the hotel early todaーー

Ayato: Idiot. Who’s so stupid to return to their hotel room at this hour?

Yui: Eh?

Ayato: Why don’t we have a look ‘round the Parade now that we’re here as well?

I’m sure things will work out if we give it our all tomorrow. That being said, let’s get goin’!

*Rustle*

Yui: Ah, wait, Ayato-kun...!

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to Saint Nore Park

Ayato: Ahー The Magic Carpet ride really is the best! So, where should we go next?

Yui: ( Ayato-kun looks like he’s having fun. ...I’m glad. )

( We still have a whole lot of issues to tackle, but the Parade only happens once a year, so I want him to be able to enjoy it a little... )

Ayato: Oh, they’ve got something interesting goin’ on over there. Oi, let’s go!

Yui: Yeah!

ー The scene shifts to the venue

Ayato: It’s on! Let’s see who can make their way out of the House of Mirrors first!

Yui: Sure!

Ayato: Hehe. I won’t lose! I’m goin’ in this way. See you at the exit!

ー Ayato runs inside

Yui: ( Okay! I have to try my best so I don’t lose either! )

ー The scene shifts to the House of Mirrors

Yui: ( Hm... )

( Everything looks the same, so I feel as if I’ve just been going in circles this whole time... )

*Riiiiing*

Yui: ...!?

ー It flashes white before her eyes

Yui: ( W-What’s going on...!? I feel dizzy all of a sudden... )

( Did the House of Mirrors make me feel sick perhaps...? )

*Riiiiing*

Yui: ...! 

( ...No...I’m not just dizzy... )

( There’s something wrong...With my heart...With the Kleinod... )

*Riiiiing*

ー Yui collapses

*Thud*

Yui: ( Everything’s going black...before my eyes... )

( ...Ayato...ku...n... )

*TIMESKIP*

???: ...Lady...Young lady...

Yui: ( ... )

???: ...Young lady...Hang in there, young lady...!

Yui: ( ...Somebody’s calling me...? )

ー Yui wakes up

Yui: ...Uu...Hm...?

Vampire gentleman: Aah, thank god! You regained consciousness!

Yui: ( Ah...Right. I fainted in the House of Mirrors... )

Vampire gentleman: I was shocked to find you passed out here! Did you come with someon...ーー

ー Ayato runs up to them

Ayato: ...Oi! What are you doin’ to her!? Back off at once!!

*THUD*

Vampire gentleman: Uguh!?

Yui: ...! Ayato-kun!?

*Rustle*

Ayato: Yui! Are you okay!?

Oi, you bastard! She’s mine! Try to harm her and you’ll regret it!

Vampire gentleman: Kuh...Harm her...? I simply...

Ayato: I don’t need to hear your excuses! I’ll beat you to pulp right now! 

Yui: ( ...! He’s definitely got the wrong idea! )

*Rustle*

Yui: Ayato-kun! You’ve got it all wrong!! It’s a misunderstanding!

He only helped me out when I was feeling unwell...!

Ayato: Aah...? What didya just say...?

Vampire gentleman: ...Hmph! So this is what I get for trying to be kind...!? I’ll excuse myself now!

ー He walks away

Yui: Ah...

( He left... )

Yui: You can’t deny that you went too far just now, kicking him out of nowhere...

Ayato: Che, I had no other choice, did I...?

From my angle, it looked as if that bastard was tryin’ to suck your blood or somethin’...

...Geez, I was waitin’ by the exit but you just wouldn’t show up, so I came lookin’ for you...

Yui: ( ...Ayato-kun... )

I’m sorry for making you worry...

Ayato: Oi, more importantly. I heard you were feelin’ unwell...? Are you alright now?

Yui: ...Yeah, I’m fine now...

*Riiiiing*

Yui: ...ーー!?

( ...Again... )

Ayato: ...!? Oi!

Yui: ( I can’t...My consciousness is... )

ー She faints again

Ayato: Yui!

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: ( ...What’s happening...? My body feels light... )

???: ...Yui...!

ー She wakes up in the hotel room

Yui: Uu...Hm...?

( I’m at...the hotel...? )

Ayato: Ah! You finally woke up...?

Yui: Ayato-kun...I...

Ayato: You passed out. It gave me a scare. I carried you back here for now.

...Are you alright?

Yui: Yeah, I’m fine now.

Ayato: Mmh. Glad to hear that. Don’t push yourself, ‘kay?

*Rustle*

Yui: ( ...He’s stroking my head... )

Ayato: ...Haah, anyway. It’s already late, so just stay in bed, ‘kay?

Yui: Yeah, I will. I’m sorry for causing you so much trouble.

Ayato: ...It’s fine. Besides, I never thought of it like that.

I don’t care as long as you’re safe and sound...

Yui: ( Ayato-kun...I’m so happy... )

( ...Now that I’m feeling more relaxed, I can suddenly feel the fatigue kicking in... )

*Rustle rustle*

ー She falls asleep as the scene shifts to her dream

Yui: ( ...Where am I...? )

( Could it be, again...? )

Mysterious man: ...Hello there, it’s been a while.

Yui: ( This voice... )

Are you...Count Walter, perhaps...?

Mysterious man: ...Fufu. I wonder?

Yui: ...

Mysterious man: That Ayato...He seems rather attached to you.

He jumped the gun and kicked a man he had never seen or met before, what am I going to do with him?

Yui: ...You were watching, it seems...?

Mysterious man: Yes, I saw everything...I wonder why exactly he seems so devoted to you?

Yui: Why...?

Mysterious man: Yes. Have you never asked yourself that question?

Yui: Well...

Mysterious man: Do you perhaps think...He is doing it out of love for you?

Yui: ...

Mysterious man: Fufu, seems like I am correct. However, if you do, I think it is time you think again.

Yui: ...What do you mean?

Mysterious man: That man, you see, only ever thinks about being the best there is.

Therefore, he does not want to lose you, the person who has a heart like nobody else does. ...Am I wrong?

Yui: ...That’s not...!

( Is he implying that Ayato-kun only protects me because of my heart...? )

( That just can’t be...I mean, Ayato-kun is...! )

He isn’t that kind of person. He really does... (1)

( It’s not because of my heart...But because he cares about me as a person... )

Mysterious man: ...Kuku...Hahaha...!

Yui: ...What’s so funny?

Mysterious man: Oh no, my bad. I was just thinking what a foolish, pitiful girl you are...

Do you truly believe a Vampire such as himself is capable of grasping the meaning of true love?

...If you do, you are gravely mistaken.

ー Yui wakes up

*Rustle*

Yui: ...Haah...! Haah...Haah...

( ...Was that a dream just now...? )

*Rustle*

Yui: ...Ayato-kun...? 

( ...He doesn’t seem to be around...Did he head out, perhaps...? )

ー She recalls her dream

Mysterious man: Do you truly believe a Vampire such as himself is capable of grasping the meaning of true love?

...If you do, you are gravely mistaken.

ー The dream sequence ends

Yui: ( ...That’s not true. Ayato-kun isn’t like that. )

( I have faith in him... )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー 

← RETURN TO CHAPTER 1

→ PROCEED WITH MAIN STORY [CHAPTER 3]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #1 [W/ REIJI]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #2 [W/ LAITO]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #3 [W/ AZUSA]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #4 [W/ CARLA]

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #ayato sakamaki #dark fate #diabolik lovers translation #dfayatochapter2

[britishassistant]

@emyluwinter submitted:

It's very, very bad.

I probably already need to write some specific greeting, so that you understand that this is me again. I think something like " And here you are again a freelance newspaper worker writing about the life of a Yuu reporter!!" Today you will read a rather stressful and difficult passage, an article, a mini-script? I suggest you stock up on handkerchiefs.

This day was completely different. Grimm suddenly didn't show up for breakfast, and disappeared somewhere. None of the neighbors even saw him this morning. But Yuu definitely remembered that they went to bed together. How they covered themselves with a blanket, how they turned out the lights and fell asleep after a hard day's work. Yuuken's phone hadn't been answered for several hours, which was very unlike him. Also, the cameraman did not show up for the shooting of the report. No one in the office knew what was going on, and no one knew where he was. Yuu could feel everything inside him twisting into a tight knot of tension and despair. It seemed less and less like it was just a coincidence.

- Please let it be a misunderstanding. - Yuu consoled himself with these thoughts. But their intuition literally screamed that things were very bad. Everything goes wrong.

Even the villains seem to have decided to take a sudden day off for villainy. For a couple of hours, Yuu had been trying to call Yuuken or find Grimm. But there were no traces, no notes about the abduction. All his nerves were taut as strings. Almost choking, Yuu looks in horror at the black raven feather on his desk. This is Crowley's doing. It's a lousy case scenario. Things are bad, very bad. But what did he want from them? Why suddenly now?No matter how many questions were asked in Yuu's mind, there was no answer. A few hours later, Yuu found himself in the heart of the lair of the terrible leader of the villainous league of Crowley. Their anger was boundless and Yuu literally wanted to break the neck of this restless crow, which does not want to leave him alone. - what do you want, old crow? They decided to ask the question right away and not waste time. Fearing that it will be disastrously small to provide assistance. - Oh, Yuu, I'm so glad you decided to join me tonight. Would you like some tea? - Crowley sat quietly in his large, massive, and gaudy-looking throne chair. While they themselves were sitting on a simple chair. It was as if he was doing everything he could to show how helpless and small Yuu was compared to him. - If by join, you mean that your thugs kidnapped me and dragged me here by force, almost trashing my apartment and scaring the entire neighborhood. Wouldn't you... go fuck yourself?! Why did you suddenly think to kidnap me?what do you need?!

Yuu well understood that now is not the best idea to give vent to their anger and irritation. But they were on edge all day and the stress was stronger than usual. It had all been piling up like a snowball... for so long and so painfully. - Hush, hush, baby bird, I don't think you're in a position to let your emotions run wild right now. But I'm so kind that I'd rather not notice this little outburst of anger - Crowley indifferently took a sip of amazingly expensive tea from an equally expensive cup and saucer. - What do you want? - Yuu literally gritted his teeth to get to the bottom of it.One part of them was thinking about escape options, the other was praying that nothing happened to Yuuken and Grimm and they were kidnapped by another villain from the seven, waiting for either the Prefect or the reporter to come. They may be villains. But they are not so stupid as to harm the people dear to Yuu. They might as well have tried to kidnap Divus Cruel, but they would have been brainless in the next few hours, even if they had been very lucky not to be tortured half to death by his experiments.

- I'm glad you asked! You see I am so gracious that I will tell you my beautiful plan. As you recall, you are my biological heir. This is a very responsible and serious position in which I will need to make sure that after me there will be a leader who may even surpass me. It would be such a wonderful arrangement of affairs! Yuu wanted to punch that old crow even more. Crowley continued. - And as you must understand by now, all my previous persuasions have failed. As well as the idea that you went through adversity at birth. Yuu didn't like what he was talking about with them. - That's why!For the past few months, I've patiently let you enjoy the life you're used to. Make friends and family, get a job that you like. Even get a strange pet. And I had an amazing idea!If you couldn't get through the hardships when you were still a child, then I can easily arrange it now to break you the way I need to! Crowley chuckled smugly. Meanwhile, Yuu had the feeling that he was watching some kind of nightmare that they couldn't wake up from. - break me...what..What are you talking about? - Yuu could barely whisper their question. A chill swept through his body as quickly as if they had fallen under one of Charon's freezing traps.

But it wasn't ice. This was their terror with fear. Crowley puts his hands together and leans on his desk. - Do I sound so vague to you? Oh, you seem so happy that I'm giving you this opportunity to enjoy your peaceful days as a civilian. But I decided that it was time to stop with these children's games. Crowley presses a button on the remote control and a screen with security cameras turns on behind him. Yuu's stomach clenched in shock and horror. They screamed abruptly getting up from the chair and holding their hands over their mouths in fear, they looked at the bound Yuken and Grim, worse, Crowley did not stop.... in another screen  were...their parents. They were also abducted and tied up.

Crowley went on with his plan.

- All I had to do was take everything you hold dear and brutally eliminate it in front of your eyes. As long as you're a weak cub, you can't stop it.

No wonder they talked about Crowley's monstrous reputation, Yuu almost choked on their own tears and despair.

- no...No, don't touch them!!They have nothing to do with it!! - Yuu pleaded, literally burning the old crow with his eyes.

- I told you I didn't want your money, your position, and I certainly don't want to be your heir!"!You already have 7 candidates choose one of them, why do you keep interfering and threatening me to kill my loved ones?!? - Because I'm kind enough to give you a little choice."

The Yuus recoiled from him. Again, this dirty manipulation. He's going to brainwash them, that's for sure.

- The choice is cub. You stay and I teach you as my heir, how to manage my affairs and the craft of villainy. Or ...

Yuu suppresses a ragged sigh. They didn't even notice the tears running down their cheeks and their shoulders shaking.

Crowley truly reveled in the sight and the sense of his own superiority.

- I will kill these people slowly and painfully until you learn everything, and you will see every day how your mistakes cause pain and suffering to your loved ones.

It was as if a vacuum had appeared in Yuu's head. Either way, Crowley gave them no choice. He had planned it all from the beginning.

- where...Where's the guarantee that if I stay, you won't kill them at the same time?where is the proof that they are not dead? Crowley laughed merrily, and Yuu felt helpless and weak for the first time in his life. Things are too bad, Yuu can't think of a single option for saving everyone, including myself.

- Great question!!You see, if you voluntarily stay, they guarantee me that you will not try to escape in the future and that you will be a diligent student.

Yuu thought for a second that Crowley had put an invisible noose around his neck and was pulling it tighter and tighter. Like a puppet master's collar or strings.

- If you try to escape and somehow find them in my labyrinth lair. - Crowley pressed another button on his remote control Yuu looked at the other wall and saw a reflection of himself. Terrified, their cheeks glistening with tears, as if they were lost and broken. Just like Crowley wanted.

The leader of the League of Villains gets up from his desk and takes Yuu by the shoulders and turns their face to the camera.

- Your beloved Dair Crowley and our charming reporter Yuu are on the air. Yuu stubbornly refused to look at the camera and was riveted by the eyes of his loved ones. Even through their tears, they could see that they were still fine. Yuuken played with Grim in words to pass the time. I don't think Grimm did very well, but he tried.

And his parents...

Yuu sobbed softly and barely smiled. Their father was humming a tune inaudible to their ears and kicking out a rhythm with his feet. And their mother, their kind, sweet mother, sang with him.

They were afraid, they did not know what they would do to them and whether they would live. But they sang.

Crowley was talking and talking to the camera, but they weren't listening. Yuu is too tired to be strong, too tired to be in the midst of these evil-hero fights, to be involved in these conflicts. They just wanted to live the peaceful life of a citizen, a friendly neighbor. Instead of being in their worst nightmare right now, which Yuu didn't know how to get out of.

Crowley dug his sharp nails into Yuu's cheeks very painfully,forcing them to forcibly turn their heads towards him and the camera.

- Do as I say. - Crowley whispered menacingly, as if about to kill him.

The Yuu felt that they were so brittle and broken that if Crowley pressed any more, their bones would crack just like they are now. - So my dear viewers, I will be so kind as to answer your main question!!Your favorite reporter and friendly neighbor has a unique opportunity. Stay with me as a hostage voluntarily and save your family and friends, or I'll have to persuade them with my own words ... -  Crowley's eyes darkened and Yuu for the first time was afraid for the loved ones because Crowley wasn't always such a jerk.

- in kind and gracious ways. How about holding the whole city hostage? Ah probably you are now enveloped in a beautiful fear of not knowing that if the Yuu refuse, I will kill every civilian-Crowley specifically emphasized this point.

"Every single one of them, one by one, until the Yuu eventually agree. Ask why I need it?You see, I have some plans for this naughty child..

Yuu groaned softly as Crowley's other hand, with its sharp fingers, gripped his forearm very painfully, digging its nails through his clothes into the skin and scratching it.

- a monster.. - Yuu whispered softly, no longer holding back his tears. They were literally breaking down by the second. On the other side of the screen, the Leviathan in his lair dropped all the papers from his hands and turned pale with the realization of the whole situation. Crowley decided to go the route of violence if he was tired of Yuu's refusals. And the worst scenario he could have imagined came true..

- Err?!?Azul!!The shrimp is crying!I don't like it!! Floyd said angrily, not looking up from the screen.

- What are we going to do? -  Jade looked at his boss expectantly. Azul sat down unsteadily on the arm of his chair.

- Crowley literally says to all the villains do not interfere or I will kill him.. - Azul replied softly, feeling a cold sweat break out on his skin... None of the villains knew what to do or what to do. But everyone swore to themselves that they would never bring Yuu to such tears. To such a terrible state... I will end my passage here. I want to hear your impressions, thoughts, and ideas!!Open to everything!

It's so great to hear that you like what I write!

...well.

Well.

You were right about needing tissues!! Holy hell, this is serious End Game level work!! This is definitely building up to a dramatic conclusion!!

Crowley seems to hold all the cards here! He’s got Yuu’s family and friends (and who he thinks is the Prefect’s secret identity) hostage so that the reporter can’t fight back or be saved, and he’s got Yuu so the supervillains can’t make a move unless they want Yuu’s death on their heads. It seems like all hope is lost...

...Though I notice Crowley hasn’t exactly factored in what a certain Uncle and other honorary family members on the board of the League, or the three mysterious old men who own Yuu’s apartment will have to say about this...

Or the fact that the Prefect may not be as contained as he thinks...

#submission #emyluwinter #twisted wonderland #twst #supervillain au #dire crowley #twst crowley #twisted wonderland yuu #twst yuu #azul ashengrotto #twst azul #floyd leech #twst floyd #jade leech #twst jade #enma yuuken #twst yuuken #twisted wonderland grim #twst grim #anita radcliffe #roger radcliffe

[forasecondtherewedwon]

3 Simple Rules for Dating a Centenarian

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes Rating: T Word Count: 2374

Summary: After seeing Steve's shield handed over to some stranger, Sam calls up Bucky, certain he's the one person who can properly commiserate. He doesn't really expect Bucky to answer though (the guy's become a bit of a recluse), or to hear the hints that he might be missing Sam as much as Sam's been missing him. Not that he'd ever say it straight out.

Sam is almost completely still as the feelings rattle through him like a roller coaster’s last run on a derelict track. He only lets it out—the blend of frustration, betrayal, and regret—in the way his fingers squeeze his knee through his jeans, skin damp against the denim. Keeping his hands clasped, and watching those clasped hands, was more grounding, but he needs one of his hands to hold the phone to his ear, and that activity is getting pretty damn tired.

Bucky’s voicemail clicks on for the third time in a row.

“Bucky,” Sam says, “I know you prefer calls to texting, so what are you doing ignoring me, man? Haven’t used your cell in so long that you’ve forgotten how to hit the answer button? At least it rang. That’s something, I guess.”

He sighs away from the speaker where it won’t be recorded for Bucky to hear later. Maybe he did divert his message from the snarky sarcasm he was planning to leave the guy, but Bucky doesn’t need to hear him sigh on top of that.

For a few moments, Sam taps his foot along with the muffled music of his nephews’ video game coming through the closed door. He knows the boys’ routine (and if he ever forgets, he sees the copy Sarah has on the fridge door) and that this isn’t their usual scheduled time for whatever they’re playing out there. Best guess: Sarah wants them hogging the TV so she won’t be tempted to peek at that government-sanctioned shitshow. Sam can’t blame her. Actually, he wonders if she blames him. The disappointment was so clear in her eyes before he stopped making himself meet them. He thought he was doing the right thing when he handed the shield over. Are there people out there who think he’s let them down, or just his sister? Just himself?

He can’t talk to Sarah right now and he’s thankful that she’s giving him some time to himself, but as soon as he got it, he realized he didn’t know what to do with it. Just like that shield. Dialing Bucky over and over—tapping in every number every time because that appears to be part of this pity ritual he’s performing—seemed like the thing he should do. Probably won’t answer. That asshole is terrible at staying in touch. Still, Sam’s heart feels a little heavier with every word closer he gets to the end of this message. Feels like he’s trying to keep the thing afloat in his chest, like his parents’ boat down at the dock. This is what he knows he should do when everything in him wants to sink—reach out, talk to people. Kinda self-sabotage when he picks the one person almost guaranteed not to answer.

Oh, he’ll hear back from Bucky eventually, probably a handful of choppy texts sent in the middle of the night two weeks from now. Sam knows his pattern; Bucky’s chattiest between 3am and 4am, so chatty that what are likely intended as longer blocks of text arrive in broken fragments because he wants to make everything into neat paragraphs, like he’s writing a damn letter, instead of just getting to the point, but he hits send too soon. Sam would teach him—with plenty of mocking and name-calling, but he would teach him—only while he’s been running ops all over the planet, Bucky’s shrunk his own world way down. He’s gone local to the extreme and it aggravates Sam, even though Bucky isn’t his responsibility, isn’t his other inheritance from Steve. It’s sorta just easier to feel like Bucky is a misplaced bequest than to acknowledge that maybe he misses the guy and his sharp-shooter’s eye and his caveman hair. He can’t keep calling him.

“Thought I’d give you a heads-up,” Sam says, voice weary with this half-true excuse. “Maybe you already saw.” He clears his throat and says quickly, “Anyway, guess I’ll hear from you when I hear from you.”

He’s pulling the phone away from his head and has barely ended the call when it’s ringing in his hand. He answers and catches Bucky’s voice saying his name before it’s even back up to his ear.

“Bucky?” Sam says. “You have a senior’s moment and forget where you left your phone?”

“Nah,” Bucky says. “I saw it was you and decided to ignore it.”

“But you called back.”

“You wouldn’t quit calling. Seemed like you needed me to tell you directly to knock it off.”

“Jackass.” Sam’s gaze darts to the door, but it’s still shut. No chance Sarah saw him grinning over this easy banter. Always the banter with this idiot. Always easy. He sniffs and turns his chair away from the black TV screen. “Did you see that joker on the news?”

Bucky’s either less self-conscious or more inept because he sighs right into the mouthpiece, an exhausted breath in Sam’s ear that has his fingers fleetingly digging into his knee.

“Couldn’t believe that shit,” Bucky tells him in a rough voice. He’s clearly holding back his own feelings about today’s events and, from the sounds of it, they’re more along the lines of anger, hurt, and a simmering desire to wrench the shield from the arm of the new Captain America. “You know that thing’s supposed to be yours.”

“You saying I should’ve done something to stop it?” Sam demands.

“Coulda.”

Sam forces his shoulders to drop, draws a slow breath in and pushes it back out.

“It wasn’t mine anymore, if it ever was. I gave it to the Smithsonian. They sealed it in this glass case and added it to the exhibit.”

“Not a very tight seal.”

“Guess not,” Sam agrees.

“You shouldn’t have turned it over,” Bucky says. Sam’s silent, frowning, and Bucky goes on. “Forget about the shield being given to somebody else—it shouldn’t have even been in a glass case. Doesn’t belong there.”

“I do just fine without it,” Sam assures him. The practicalities of carrying that shield around are more straightforward to discuss than his yawning uncertainty in the face of Steve’s legacy and his place relative to it. “The shield would only get in the way of the wings.”

“You and those wings.”

“Hey, they carried me over Tunisia recently. Show some respect.”

“Didn’t hear about that,” Bucky says in a tone that’s difficult to interpret, though Sam squints thoughtfully as he listens.

“Yeah, well, I shouldn’t even be telling the likes of you, but it was discrete. As far as the major players are concerned, I was never there.”

“So it was illegal?”

Sam’s head tips back as he laughs hard.

“Why, you wanna turn me in?” he jokes. “Working on the government’s trust? What’s the next level up from a pardon? Knighthood?”

“You are such a pain in the ass,” Bucky groans, which really does make Sam smile.

“I’m sure it would’ve been illegal if you were there,” he says automatically. Too fast, his imagination fills it in, a fictional alternative materializing in his mind. Him and Bucky, cocky in reckless freefall. Him and Bucky, fighting back-to-back in a plummeting aircraft. Sam screening Bucky from enemy fire with his wings. Bucky deflecting a stray bullet with his arm before it could hit Sam.

“Nah, I can’t do that no more.”

“Uh huh. I’m sure you’re an angel.”

“Anybody get hurt?” Bucky asks.

Sam glances through the window at the blue sky, the truck rolling unhurriedly past with the driver’s arm hanging out to catch the sun. Beautiful day. He remembers a kick that sent a guy through the door of the plane, sucked out into the sky, another guy tossed aside who tried to fight him in midair, and a helicopter aflame as it went down. He shrugs and figures Bucky’ll hear the gesture in his voice.

“Nobody who didn’t know the risks.”

“Of going up against Captain America?” Bucky probes. Sam rolls his eyes.

“You know, that would almost be a compliment if you got my name right.”

“Don’t tell me you’re not using the name just to avoid compliments from me.”

“I honestly can’t say which one would feel more wrong,” Sam says, passing a hand over his head as he leans back in his chair, “calling myself Captain America or hearing a little overdue praise from you.”

“I’m not really a words guy. Ask my therapist.”

Sam sits with that for a second. He’s happy that Bucky’s talking to someone. He needs it, badly, after decades of violence and being belted into the passenger seat of his own brain. It’s more than Bucky’s ever admitted to him before, but Sam would bet—and bet big—that seeing some stranger named as Steve’s successor today has gotten to Bucky as much as it’s gotten to him. Something like that is bound to open Bucky up a little. He’s the only other person Sam can imagine the news having such a monumental impact on.

“You could try words,” he goads, not wanting to leave Bucky hanging more than a few seconds after his admission. “What else do you have if you don’t feel like being a human action figure?”

“I have my system. My rules.”

“Oh yeah? What rules?”

“Three of ’em,” Bucky informs him. “Nothing illegal. Nobody gets hurt. Making amends for the actions of the Winter Solider.”

“You don’t have to make amends for something you—”

“Don’t. It… helps.”

And who is Sam to question what’s helping Bucky? After the multiple-lifetimes’ worth of hell the guy’s been through?

“Good for you, man,” Sam offers softly.

“Save it, Sam.” The words are clipped but light. Sam grins.

“No words for me either? You more comfortable with me sticking to actions? How are we supposed to talk to each other when you don’t come to Tunisia with me?”

“Wasn’t invited,” Bucky quips back.

“You mighta been if you answered your phone more often. I’m not gonna send you the details to a covert operation in a text.”

“You wanted me in Tunisia?”

“You get shit done,” Sam acknowledges simply. You wanted me in Tunisia? echoes in his head. His heart’s bobbing like a buoy now. You wanted me in Tunisia? You wanted me?

“Not like that.”

“‘Not illegal,’” Sam repeats. “‘Nobody gets hurt. Making amends.’”

“Right. Can’t do any of that.”

“Well, I’m glad this regime’s working for you, but you have to admit it’s weird that I saw more of you when we were fighting alien hordes.”

“What can I say?” Bucky asks in a tone that seems to consciously flatten the charm out of it. “I’m old-fashioned now.”

Sam snorts.

“You were old-fashioned then.”

“I assume you had a team on the ground.”

“I had to,” Sam says over the sound of a squabble in the other room. Immediately, he can hear Sarah’s voice rising slightly above, breaking it up. Just like that, there’s the looping music of the video game again. She’s raised those boys well. “Couldn’t wait around for you.”

“I might show up if you asked me on better dates.”

“It wasn’t a date, it was a goddamn op.”

It’s startling to hear the sound of laughter. Not hearty, deep, rich, or loud, but definitely laughter. Bucky laughs? Sam backtracks a minute. Bucky makes jokes? About dating? About the two of them dating? Evidently, that is something he’s capable of, along with returning calls during daylight hours.

Sam shifts in his seat.

“You could come around sometime,” he suggests, nervously rubbing a hand up and down his thigh. “If you like fish and you’re ever in Louisiana.”

“I do like fish,” Bucky says. “I’ve been going to this sushi place a lot lately.”

It’s not his taste that surprises Sam—it’s the readiness with which he responds to the invitation. He would’ve sooner guessed that Bucky would tell him to shove it up his ass. In a joking way, but still.

“On dates?” Sam asks, telling himself he’s providing some good-natured hassling and that it has nothing to do with the odd feeling he got when Bucky’s joke about them dating caught up with him.

“One. Mostly, I go with Mr. Nakajima.”

“And that’s not a date?”

Sam laughs and wishes he could shut his own mouth as firmly as he’s (many times) told Bucky to shut his.

“I’m pretty sure he’s in his eighties, so he’s more age-appropriate for me than most people, but I murdered his son,” Bucky says grimly.

“Amends?” Sam guesses, adjusting his tone to cope with Bucky’s emotional switchback.

“I haven’t told him yet, but, yeah, I’m working on that.”

They’re both working on something, Sam thinks. Both confronting something that feels too big to tackle—the decision not to announce himself as the new Captain America, guilt for assassinations Bucky had no control over but which span the better part of a century. Sometimes it seems to Sam that they go up against the easiest situations as a team and face the hardest stuff alone. But he called Bucky, and Bucky called back.

“You could bring some of those amends down here and trade them for a snapper dinner,” Sam proposes, aiming for irritatingly cheerful to pull Bucky back out of the dark.

“What do I have to make amends to you for?”

“Being a dick. I’ll text you my sister’s address.”

Sam swiftly ends the call. There are two possible sources to which he can attribute the small surge of adrenaline he feels: hanging up on Bucky and the fact that he might’ve just asked him on a date. When Sam dialed, he knew it was because he didn’t want to do this alone, but he thought that meant watching the appointment of an upstart Captain America. Although he believed he could count on Bucky’s understanding today and for the near future, asking him down to have dinner with Sarah and the boys (or tricking him into it, since he didn’t exactly say it’d be a thing with the whole family) lengthens the timeline. Near future? Inviting Bucky to meet his family and see where he grew up means recognizing that he’ll be in his life a little longer. Alone? Sam might forget the meaning of the word.

#my writing #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #sambucky #Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes

[imaginedhaven]

Reluctantly Rooming: Part Twelve

Link to Masterpost

I didn’t think I’d have this done so quickly, but here we are!

Content/Warning: While not intended to be a main focus of the work, this chapter does contain discussion of sexual orientation and the revelation of a side character as a trans man (who is almost assuredly not trans in the original canon). While I definitely want to be as respectful as possible even though I’m only barely broaching the topic, I cannot claim to be trans myself, so if I’ve gotten something wrong in my admittedly-minimal talk about it please tell me!

Today’s prompts:

Aelin getting stood up for a date

and

Inappropriate exclamations during an innocent massage

~*~*~

Aelin crossed her legs, leaning forward with an interest she was struggling to feel. “So, Ilias, you said you’re here for work? What is it you do?”

Ilias grinned a little too sharply at her, amusement flashing in sea-green eyes. “I work in… private security. I’m afraid I can’t say more than that.”

“Right.” She began to fidget with the skewer that had held her drink’s cherry, searching for something else to say.

“You seem uncomfortable. Want to get out of here?”

Oh gods, was he really…? Yes, he was leaning in, and the way his eyes flitted down her torso and then back up meant he was saying exactly what she thought he was saying.

“You know, if I’m being honest I don’t know if this is going to work,” she blurted out. “I mean, with you being based so far west of here, and traveling all over for your work… I’m not looking for forever on a first date, but maybe something a bit more stable than that.”

Ilias’ brow furrowed, then he nodded with an easy grin. “Fair enough. I definitely can’t promise stable.”

~*~*~

It had been a while since Aelin had been on a date with a woman, but she knew without a doubt that wasn’t the cause of the nerves settling in the pit of her stomach as golden eyes flashed at her from the barstool beside her. “Can I ask you a question that’s probably a bit rude?”

Her companion—Manon, that was her name—merely raised an amused eyebrow.

Aelin blurted out the question that had been at the tip of her tongue for the past several minutes. “Do you find that people being both scared and turned on is a normal reaction around you, or is it just me?”

Manon smirked, flicking her platinum braid over her shoulder. “It’s what I aim for,” she replied with a flash of sharp teeth.

Aelin laughed. “Okay, if I’m being honest we’re probably a terrible romantic match, but I like you. This is probably weird, since we’re on what’s supposed to be a date, but I have this friend who I think would absolutely love you…” Aelin trailed off, scrolling through the pictures on her phone.

Pointed nails dug into her shoulder as Manon peered at the screen. “I’m interested.”

Aelin blinked. “I haven’t told you anything about Elide.”

“I can see what I need to know about her from the way she’s holding herself in that picture. I’m willing to meet if she is.”

“I’ll introduce you on the condition that you teach me that trick you used on the guy you passed on your way in.”

“Deal.”

“You’re the best.”

“I know.”

~*~*~

Aelin sighed from the corner of the bar, shaking her head as Lysandra gave her a questioning stare. Ress was late. Incredibly late, not just something she could attribute to traffic.

She swirled the whiskey in her glass, watching the amber liquid to stop herself from checking her phone for the fifth time in as many minutes. He would show up if and when he showed up, and she was determined to not be bothered by it even though it bothered her immensely.

Maybe she should take Lysandra up on her offer to set her up. It couldn’t be worse than her experience trying to find people on dating apps.

Finally, her phone chimed as the screen lit up with an unfamiliar number. Aelin, it’s Ress. I’m so sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it. There’s been a huge disaster at work and apparently I’m the one who gets to clean it up.

Aelin sighed. Well, at least he’d texted her.

~*~*~

“Three flops in as many weeks, Lysandra, I think I’m cursed.” Aelin sighed and nestled further into the couch. “I mean, I went on a run today to try and calm down. Who goes on runs?”

“Rowan goes on runs,” her friend replied wickedly. “And I told you from the start that dating apps were hit or miss. This isn’t college anymore.”

“I didn’t have to worry about it in college,” she reminded her.

“That’s right, you were doing that thing with Sam where you thought you were a lesbian and Sam hadn’t fully come to the realization that he was a guy yet. You know, I still can’t believe you two wound up staying friends after how that fell out.”

Aelin grimaced. Some days she couldn’t quite believe it, either; she had hardly been graceful about it in college. “It took a lot of distance and a lot of growing up,” she admitted. “And a lot of admitting that I said a lot of things I didn’t mean.”

“Anyhow, if you’re ready to hear my ideas, I could set you up with Archer.”

Aelin frowned, rubbing at a sudden cramp in her calf muscles. “Is that a person’s name, or a profession?”

“It’s his name. I can help you with that, if you want.” Lysandra leaned forward and took over, deftly massaging her leg.

“And how exactly do you know this Archer?”

“I worked with him at that massage parlor in Rifthold.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?” Lysandra’s brow furrowed in confusion.

Aelin scowled. “No one from Rifthold.”

Green eyes softened in understanding. “He’s not like—”

“I don’t care. No.”

Thankfully, her friend dropped it there, instead focusing on working the knot out of her sore muscles. “I could also set you up with Rowan.”

Aelin groaned. “Oh gods, Lys. No.”

“What do you have to lose?”

“My dignity? My ability to live with him, and therefore my home?” She turned her head just enough to glare at her friend, otherwise remaining practically boneless as she sprawled across the couch.

Lysandra laughed. “You think Aedion wouldn’t kick him out over you?”

“I don’t want it to come to that. So no, you’re not setting me up with him.”

“But you could go on runs together, and when you push yourself too hard he could probably carry you home.”

“You’re a terrible influence. Remind me why we’re friends again?”

“Because you’re a worse one,” her friend grinned. “Besides, I can do this.”

A few deft strokes of Lysandra’s hands had the tension leaving her leg, and she moaned in relief. “Gods, that feels so good.”

“See? Everyone likes my hands, they’re one of my best features.”

“Don’t get all smug with me—yes, right there!”

A loud noise near the doorway had them both freezing and looking over, only to discover that Rowan had gotten home early and looked absolutely mortified. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Aelin, you have a room.”

Aelin blushed hotly as she played back the last several moments of their conversation. Exactly how much had he heard? Hopefully it was just the last part; as awkward as it was, it was easier to explain than her misplaced attraction to him. “As trite as this sounds, it’s not what it looks like.”

“So you haven’t brought one of your recent dates home?” As odd as it was to think, she was relieved by the scowl on his face; the expression combined with his words indicated that he hadn’t heard them talking about him.

“Gods, no. This is Lysandra. From the bar, remember?”

Bless her, Lysandra stood and waved with a grin. She was less thrilled with what her friend proceeded to say, though. “Your friend here pushed too far running and hurt her leg. I was just helping with that.”

Immediately Rowan’s gaze fixated on her legs, obviously searching for any obvious sign of injury. Aelin sighed. “I’m fine, buzzard. It was just a muscle cramp.”

He nodded, the motion sharp and jerky, and strode into the kitchen, fetching a glass of water with almost mechanical precision. “I guarantee you didn’t drink enough water before you ran. This should help prevent it from coming back.”

She scowled, but obediently sipped from the glass after he handed it to her. “I thought you weren’t supposed to right before running. Doesn’t that upset your stomach?”

“I’m talking about yesterday, Aelin. You should be keeping well-hydrated on a daily basis if you’re going to take up running.”

“You just want me to drink more water,” she accused. “That sounds made up.”

“Just try it,” he replied. “You’ll thank me later.”

Her head jerked back toward the living area at the sound of a door closing, only to find that Lysandra had taken the opportunity to quietly let herself out. Her friend grinned and waved from the driveway when she saw her, clearly realizing she was caught and utterly unrepentant.

Aelin sighed and turned back to Rowan, who was watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite identify. “You’re really okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “I just needed something to help me not think for a while after these shit dates I’ve been on lately, and I’m told drinking alone is a sign of having a problem.”

The corner of his lips quirked up in the barest hint of a smile. “They must’ve been really bad, to make you consider running as a viable option.”

Aelin shrugged. “I mean, I’ve had worse, but I’ve also had better? It was just one miss after another, you know?”

He glanced at her again, then turned toward the refrigerator. “I think I have everything we need to make pasta, if that’ll help you feel better.”

“You’d actually make me pasta?” She frowned; there had to be some kind of catch. There was no way he would simply allow that many carbs to be on his stovetop at the same time.

“I would,” he replied, heading toward the pantry and grabbing…

“Wait, that’s not pasta,” she blurted out. Gods, she knew there was a catch.

He laughed, rolling up his sleeves before grabbing their eggs as well. “It’s not pasta yet.”

“You can’t seriously mean—” There was no way he was actually making pasta from scratch. There was a reason it came in boxes, she was sure of it.

“I can and I do. Now either stop talking and watch or get out of my kitchen.”

Aelin chose to watch, and the play of muscles in his forearms as he made and kneaded his own pasta dough was almost enough to make her forget about why she’d thought it was a good idea to try dating again in the first place.

Almost.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou @mymultiversee @swankii-art-teacher @rowansfirebringer @livsdriverslicense @courtofjurdan @danibutterr @woollycat22 @rowaelinismyotp @sleeping-and-books @acciowests @stardelia @anidealiveson

#rowaelin #haven writes #reluctantly rooming

[atths--twice]

Picture of Love

Scully finds a picture in Mulder’s wallet and her curiosity is piqued as to why he has kept it all these years.

Continuing with the Year of Prompts, here is the next one. Based off a prompt that this picture of Gillian was actually a picture of Scully which Mulder took and then held onto for years. 

I hope you enjoy it. This was so much to write.  

“The pizza will be here in a few.”

“Okay. There’s cash in my wallet,” Mulder called from somewhere in his bedroom and Scully smiled as she looked around the apartment, but did not find it.

“Nope. Didn’t find it. Is it in here?” she asked, walking into his room. He turned around quickly, moving a box from a teetering stack in the middle of the room.

“I…” He set the box down and felt his back pockets.

“Oh, well I could have done that,” she said with a smile, walking close and putting her arms around his waist, her hands sliding into his pockets.

“Oh,” he said with surprise. “Yes, that’s a much better way to find it.” He moved his hands and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her as she squeezed his ass through his jeans.

Laughing into his mouth, she pulled back and smiled, moving her hands to the small of his back and holding tight as they rocked  back and forth.

“Still haven’t found it,” she murmured against his mouth and he hummed, kissing her once more before he pulled back and began searching for it.

“I’m sure I had it earlier.”

“I would hope so,” she stated with a smile. He grinned and walked out of the room, her trailing behind him. “I already looked out here.”

“So you said.” He turned to her and raised an eyebrow with a smile and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Are you implying I didn’t look hard enough?”

“Not… exactly. More that you don’t know all the places I like to set things.” He looked at her again and she crossed her arms with an eyebrow raised.

“Where else should I have looked aside from the desk, the desk drawer, coffee table, here on the empty dining room table, or the kitchen counter?” She ticked them off on her fingers and he grinned as she tilted her head.

“I’d say you have all the places covered.”

“Uh huh.” She smiled as she crossed her arms again and he snapped his fingers, leaving the room and walking back to his bedroom. She followed again and watched him pick up his pants from earlier that day.

“Yup, here it is.” He took it from his back pocket and handed it to her.

“How did you not remember that you’d forgotten to take it out of your pocket?” She shook her head and he stepped toward her.

“Well… someone was eager to remove my clothing when she arrived.” He looped his arms around her, lifting her off her feet as she squeaked in surprise and wrapped her arms around his neck. “The whereabouts of my wallet was the last thing on my mind.” He kissed her and she melted into him with a moan, knowing he was absolutely correct.

Knock knock knock

“Damn,” she murmured and he kissed her before setting her down.

“I’ll be out in a second.” She nodded and walked to the front door, opening Mulder’s wallet and talking out two twenties as she did.

Opening the door, she paid the delivery guy and took the pizza and large salad from him, setting it on the dining room table, her stomach growling.

“Here’s your change,” the guy said, handing her some bills. She gave him a tip and he thanked her with a nod before she closed the door.

As she put the money back into the wallet, the corner of something caught her eye and she pulled at it, knowing how Mulder liked to save his good fortunes as he ate his fortune cookie. She smiled as she saw that there were a few and with a tug they came out, as something larger fell face down onto the floor.

Setting the wallet and fortunes onto the table, she bent down, picked it up and turned it over. Her eyes widened in surprise at the item in her hand. It had not been what she was expecting and a gamut of emotions passed through her as she stared at the old folded picture.

“Mmm… I can smell that pizza from the bedroom. God, I’m starving,” Mulder said as he walked into the dining room and clapped his hands with a smile. “We doing plates? No plates?” He stopped as she handed him the picture. He took it and sighed, looking at it and then at her.

“Why do you have that in your wallet?”

“Seriously? Why wouldn’t I?”

“I guess I should have said ‘how long have you had that in your wallet?’ That would have been more accurate.” He smiled and looked at the picture again.

“Since that case.”

“What? Mulder…”

“When we came back and I got the film developed… it was the last one on the roll-”

“I remember.”

“Right,” he said with a smile. “Right. Well… I had this picture and I liked it and so I kept it.”

“In your wallet?” she asked softly and he nodded, looking up at her.

“I… I didn’t plan on keeping it there. I had all the photos laying out in the office and as I got to this one, I was looking at it when I heard you coming in, so I hid it. And then well, I’ve kept it in my wallet.”

“But why did you feel you had to hide it? I knew you took it. I knew it was there.” She shrugged with a smile and took the picture back, looking at her younger self smiling happily back at her, her arms wrapped around a greenish blue light pole, and her fingers locked together. “I remember this case. That old suit especially.” He chuckled as she made a face and looked up at him.

“I didn’t want you to find me staring at it like some kind of creep.”

“I wouldn’t have felt that way.” He stared at her and she smiled. “I might have teased you and then wondered why you had, like some kind of… oh...” They both laughed and he nodded.

“Do you want to know why I’ve kept it for so long?” he asked softly and she shook her head. “No?”

“I know why. You were desperately in love with me.” She shrugged and he laughed heartily.

“I was. But, that wasn’t exactly why.”

“Was?” He smiled and brushed her hair back, his thumb trailing down her cheek.

“Definitely not was.”

“Hmm,” she hummed with a smile. He nodded, moving his hand and she grasped it, squeezing and then letting it go. “Tell me.” Nodding again, he sighed.

“That case… it was the first real one back after you’d been so sick, not counting the one in Florida.”

“You mean the failed team building weekend?”

“Don’t even bring that up,” he shivered and she laughed. He shook his head and she waited, searching his face. “I’m so glad we missed that weekend.”

“Yes, staying the night in a forest with you injured, was much more enjoyable than a wine and cheese reception.” She rolled her eyes and he nodded.

“I’m glad we agree.” She shook her head and he winked at her. “Although, I was an idiot when it came to the wine and cheese portion of our evening.”

“Oh… you were indeed.”

“And I’ve apologized for it. Kicked myself for it too. Many, many times.”

“Oblivious,” she whispered and he nodded with a deep sigh. “What you missed. I had the sexiest underwear on that night too.” He raised his eyebrows and she shrugged.

“Sexier than… than the black ones from the other night? Because those… I really liked those.”

“I noticed,” she said with a grin. “But you were telling me something. So go ahead.”

“We’ll be circling back to this conversation later.” He gave her a look and she shrugged noncommittally, a teasing smile on her lips. “Oh, we will be. I guarantee it.”

“Should we talk while we eat?” she asked, gesturing to the pizza.

“No. Not yet.” He took the picture back and smiled as he looked at it. “After that time in Florida, I saw that you were stronger than you had been. You were happier, lighter and while you didn’t walk around grinning all the time, I could see it.” He looked at her and she smiled.

“I’d nearly died,” she said softly and he nodded.

“Yeah. That was a lot of it, but it was different too. It was…”

“I was alive. Given another chance,” she said with a sigh, knowing the other reason why there had been a difference in her, although he obviously did not.

Maybe not then, but he did now.

She had told him recently as rain fell heavily outside one night. Laying in his arms on the couch, his fingers running through her hair, her arm around his waist, the three words had slipped off her tongue easier than she had ever thought possible. The weight of them had felt huge until she had said them and it actually felt light, as though she had been saying them for a lifetime; not vocally, but in millions of different little ways.

His hand had paused in her hair and she had felt him stop breathing, his heart pounding loudly against her ear. Then his fingers had begun to move again and he had taken in a shaky breath.

“I love you too, Scully,” he had whispered and she kissed his chest as she pulled tighter to him, thunder rumbling low outside.

She looked up at him and he was smiling softly. Before he could say anything, she wrapped her arms around him and sighed as she listened and felt his heart beating, his arms holding her close as he hummed softly.

“I was given a second chance,” she repeated, needing him to know. Her voice was muffled against his shirt that smelled of clean laundry and his own unique scent. “And… I was falling in love with you. How could I not be happy?”

“Scully…” he breathed and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

“I should reiterate that I was falling in love with you again, or continuing to be.” She pulled back and smiled at him. “I was going to live and I loved you. I didn’t know how to say it, but I felt it. I was happy.”

“Which I could see in this picture of you,” he said softly, releasing her to look at it as he still held it in his hand, smiling and shaking his head. “I didn’t know for sure what it was, but I loved seeing the happiness in your eyes. You were healing, getting stronger, and you were still with me.”

“What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You almost died.” He looked at her, his eyes sad. “Because of me, my quest, my…”

“Mulder-”

“It’s true. You had every right to leave and yet you stayed. You were there, right beside me. I…”

“Did you not hear me say I was continuing my descent into loving you?” He exhaled a breath with a small smile and stared at her with a shake of his head.

“You-”

“I couldn’t leave you, any more so than I could leave myself.” She smiled, placing her hands gently on his chest. “Above the work, above all else, I couldn’t leave you. God help me, but I need you, just as much as you need me.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” he whispered with a shake of his head and she smiled with a nod.

“I do,” she whispered back and he squeezed her hand that rested over his heart. He sighed as he shook his head again, staring into her eyes.

“I love you.”

“And I love you,” she replied. He nodded and moved his hand to stroke her face. Her eyes slid shut as his lips touched hers gently, kissing her twice before he pulled back and smiled at her.

“Can I have that picture?” she asked and he nodded. She took it from him and picked up his wallet. Folding the picture, she began to put it away when he stopped her.

“Wait. You have to put the fortunes in with it.” She looked at him and he nodded. “But read them first.” Setting his wallet down with the picture, she opened the fortunes one at a time and read them out loud.

“Happiness is within your reach. You will soon find what you truly desire. Do not dwell in the past, look to the future.”

“The last one is my favorite,” he said quietly, as she picked up the final one and felt tears stinging her eyes before she read it out.

“Love will find you and make you complete. Don’t let it go.” She shook her head and looked at him, blinking back her tears.

“Every one of those reflect that picture to me, so they need to stay together.” She nodded, closing them up again and put them all back into his wallet, shutting it and laying it on the table. Sighing, she looked at him again.

“You constantly surprise me, Mulder. Constantly,” she whispered and he smiled, reaching for her, his hands resting lightly on her hips.

“Is that good or bad?” he asked in a teasing tone.

“It’s good. It’s very good,” she answered, her tone serious, her hands holding his face. “You never cease to amaze me.”

“I hope I never do.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” she said, echoing his words back to him and he grinned as she smiled back. Raising up to kiss him, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

His stomach growled against hers and she laughed. Pulling apart, they went to get plates and bowls, glasses of water, utensils, and napkins, before they sat down to eat, smiling happily at one another, their knees bumping under the table.

Laying in his bed later, her head on his chest, his fingers running through her hair, she looked at his wallet lying on his nightstand. She smiled as she thought of the picture held within, the folded creases forever permanent, as it rested beside the fortunes he had kept for years.

She thought of how often he had taken it out and looked at it, not needing to read the fortunes as he would have had them memorized. The image of him doing it filled her heart with happiness.

“Constantly surprised, Mulder,” she whispered and he hummed.

“Look to the future, your happiness is within your reach,” he whispered, pulling her even closer.

She smiled as she closed her eyes, nuzzling into him as she heard a crack of thunder, lightning flashed, and rain began to fall, his fingers once more running through her hair.

#The X-Files #XF Fanfic #Year of Prompts #Season 7 #Established Relationship #Partners to Lovers #Fluff #Fluff and Humor #Sharing #Love #Falling in Love #Kissing #Happy #Sharing a Bed #Sleeping Together #Snuggling and Cuddling

[elsanna-shenanigans]

August Contest Submission #18: The Concrete Rose

Words: ca. 5,500 Setting: mAU Lemon: No CW: Angst, brief Hansanna

October 12, 2019

From the second Elsa saw her roommate, she knew she would become her muse.

Douglas Academy of the Arts produced hundreds of graduates every year already with an astounding, artistic reputation. Anyone that had a future in the arts ran through Douglas Academy first. But that prestige came at a price, success at all costs meant that almost everyone was cold and cutthroat; no one was a classmate, everyone was competition.

It was a mantra that all the students bought into except for two people: Elsa and her roommate Anna. From a simple handshake and a peace offering in the form of a chocolate bar (“The vending machine accidentally gave me two, how lucky is that?!”), Anna stood out from everyone else in Elsa’s eyes.

They became quick friends despite how drastically different they were. Elsa was reserved and stayed in her head a lot, Anna loved people and spoke every thought that came to her. Elsa was constantly second-guessing her decisions and had a keen eye for details, Anna was more impulsive and loved seeing the bigger picture. Elsa was a sculptor who kept her works secret until they were finished, Anna was a dancer who would always post videos of her practicing for her latest performance.

The one thing they had in common was their need to support the other.

One day well into their first semester, Anna barged into Elsa’s room with a flyer that she’d gotten in almost all her classes: an advertisement for the 3-D Art Showcase in three weeks. “You’re doing this, right?” she asks, pushing the flyer in front of Elsa’s face. “You’re entering a thingie into the thing?”

Elsa plucked the flyer out of Anna’s hands and turned back around in her chair, “Not a chance. I heard first years get eaten alive at these showcases, I’ll wait until next year.”

“Oh come on! You’d kick so much ass if you entered something. Remember that clay canary you made me?” Anna pressed her palms against Elsa’s shoulders, which almost knocked the pencil out of the unexpecting sculptor’s hands.

Elsa shook her head, “That was different. I’d have to make like… something fancy and intricate if I want to even be considered for the showcase.”

“Well, can’t you at least try? Please?” Anna slid her hands down so she could wrap her arms around Elsa’s shoulders from behind. “I can help you just like you helped me while I was rehearsing my first interpretive dance.”

It took a while for Elsa to get used to Anna’s touchiness, but she learned to accept it. This was just another thing that added to Anna’s eclectic personality, and besides Elsa was a big fan of the rosemary body wash she was using. “Anna, all I did was press play on your speaker.”

“Which helped out a lot!” Anna assured her. “You know how much energy I could have wasted doing that myself?”

“… not a lot?”

“Just think about joining, okay? Knowing you, I bet you probably have like five ideas running through your head and when you pick one, I’ll do whatever I can to help turn that idea into something concrete.”

Well if thinking about it was all that Anna was asking her to do, then Elsa could do that. Less commitment that way. And she was right, of course, there were five ideas floating around in Elsa’s mind but none of them she could latch on to and say that that was the one to work on. “Alright fine,” she said after a dramatically heavy sigh, “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s my girl! Oh shit, I’m gonna be late for rehearsal!” Anna sprinted out of Elsa’s room to grab her dancing shoes. Before slamming their shared door shut, she said, “If you eat my spaghetti, I’ll kill you!”

November 5, 2019

There was something that Anna told her that day which stuck with Elsa much more than she thought it would.

Turning an idea into something concrete.

What if she sculpted something out of concrete? It was a near guarantee that a lot of the sculptors entering the showcase would be using clay, recycled metals, or wood; using concrete would probably help her stand out and better her chances of being picked. After a researching how to make this work, and some choice words of encouragement and dancing from Anna, Elsa set to work getting everything she needed for her crazy idea.

There was still, of course, one glaring problem: What was she going to sculpt?

Her answer came to her during Anna’s first performance of the semester. It was an interpretive dance that told the story of a young gladiator fighting for the freedom of his sister who was enslaved by a vindictive landowner. Her ability to tell this story without words (not even in the song she chose) wowed the audience and inspired Elsa as she waited for every beat of the story she’d seen Anna tell maybe a hundred times in their dorm.

Elsa decided to recreate one of the poses Anna did where she jumped in the air and punched her arm out like she was thrusting a spear into an unseen adversary. It was a painstaking process that tested her dexterity and her patience even more so, she shut herself in her room until it was finished. In the end, the sculpture was much smaller than she wanted it to be because she underestimated how much concrete mix she actually needed. And a piece of Anna’s skirt chipped off because it refused to stick to the wire mesh. Still, overall she was very impressed with herself.

And so it seemed was the showcase committee, because she was given one of the last remaining spots on the showcase floor.

Elsa somehow found a way to keep Anna from seeing it beforehand, so when she went with her roommate to the showcase, her reaction was genuine.

Anna gasped, “Holy shit, is this me?! She’s so pretty!”

Everyone in the building looked at them with judgmental glares, especially the judges. Elsa didn’t mind all that much, she wasn’t expecting to take a ribbon home, this was more about proving she could hang with Douglas’ best and to thank Anna for supporting her these past few months.

“I ran out of time to add details to the face, so I kept it blank,” Elsa explained. “I hope it doesn’t look too creepy.”

Anna shook her head, “No, I love it! It’s like… it fits so much with Henry’s character, the gladiator I mean. He presents himself as this nobody that could be anybody, like Henry is just a faceless idea, but he stands for justice and integrity, which can speak to anyone.”

Elsa smiled, her heart fluttering from the feeling of being understood. “I’m glad you were able to see that. I think I’ll steal that explanation when the judges come over.”

“Fine, but if you win a ribbon then you’re buying me dinner. For believing in you and for being your muse.”

“Pssh, you are not my muse.” How in the world did Anna already know that?

Anna squeezed Elsa’s shoulders and smiled, her eyes seeing right past Elsa’s thin resistance. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Michaelangelo.”

The judges came around a few minutes later to ask her some questions and write notes on their clipboards. Anna wanted to talk her roommate up so badly but settled on providing moral support right next to Elsa as she answered the questions concisely and with the professionalism that got her into Douglas Academy in the first place.

She didn’t win a ribbon, but decided to take Anna out to dinner anyway.

December 26, 2019

“I think concrete should be your thing,” Anna said before taking another long sip of her hot chocolate.

“My thing?” Elsa asked.

“Yeah, like the thing that makes you stand out from everyone else. The thing you’re known for. Da Vinci had his inventions and paintings, Degas painted ballet dancers, you could be the concrete rose.”

Elsa chuckled, “Concrete rose? That sounds more like you than it sounds like me.”

Anna gasped, “Why Ms. Elsa, you best be careful or I might just take that as a compliment.”

“Uhh you should because it was.” Elsa gently kicked her foot forward to keep the front porch swinging. They drank their hot chocolates in silence, relishing in that post-Christmas bliss. Elsa’s family was always a little more dysfunctional around the holidays, but when Anna told her she’d be spending her Christmas in the dorms she knew that couldn’t happen. Her best friend deserved a real Christmas for the first time in forever.

When their mugs were empty, Anna spoke again, “Thank you for letting me come with you. I… maybe I would have felt a little lonelier this Christmas. And I’m happy that I’m not.”

“Anna, you’re my best friend- heck, you’re like the sister I never had. I can’t leave my sister hanging, you know?” The confession is so raw and unusual for Elsa that it doesn’t feel right coming from her lips at first, but the more this moment sat the better it felt.

She looked to Anna, her red cheeks were a sign that the cold was finally getting to her. “I had a lot of foster siblings growing up… none of them liked me all that much.”

“Well that’s their loss.”

“Thank you, Elsa. Really. Everything you do means a lot to me, I hope you know that.”

Elsa smiled and tapped her shoe against Anna’s, “Everything you do means a lot to me too.”

Anna brought the empty mug back to her lips. “So, if we’re sisters, does that mean I get to steal your clothes and burst into your room to tell you stupid nonsense?”

“You mean you don’t already do that now?” The force that Anna pushed her with almost sent Elsa off the porch swing.

October 21, 2020

Elsa and Anna complemented each other’s strengths in a way neither of them ever expected. The 3-D showcases happened four times a year, and Elsa entered every one of them with the support of Anna. There were also four major dance performances throughout the year, and Anna entered every one of them with Elsa’s support.

Anna had taken second place for interpretive dancing at the last competition, but Elsa was still looking for her first major win. She felt confident, however, in her entry for the upcoming showcase.

“I mean I love it of course, but it’s ambitious,” Anna said while looking over Elsa’s sketch. “How are you gonna carve out the bird and the cage at the same time?”

“I was thinking of making the cage and bird separate, and then putting them together,” Elsa answered. “If I get the dimensions right, I can hammer some nails underneath the cage so it stays put.”

“Hmm, alright well you sound like you know what you’re doing.” Anna handed back the sketch. “And I’m gonna support you a hundred percent. No matter what.”

“I know you will,” Elsa said while putting her arm around Anna’s shoulder. “… I think this is the one.”

“I think so too,” Anna said proudly. “And when you come back with a ribbon-”

“You’re buying me dinner.”

Anna gasped and wriggled out of her best friend’s arm, “Rude!”

Elsa rolled her eyes, “Oh please, half my budget is spent feeding you. I’m sure you can afford to buy me dinner one time.”

She saw the gears turning in Anna’s mind, trying to come up with a rebuttal, but in the end she groaned and said, “Fine, I’ll take your bum ass out for dinner, sis.”

Elsa worked harder than she ever had before, inspired once again from seeing Anna’s latest performance. It was a soliloquy in dance form, about a bird who’d spent their entire life on the move and in the hands of many owners, but never once being allowed out of its cage. It paralleled Anna’s life story: the foster child from New York who was only getting her first taste of freedom now. She paid special attention to the bird’s eyes, wanting them to emulate the longing and ambition she saw in her best friend.

The process resulted in a lot of tiny cuts and a couple of sleepless nights, but it was all worth it in the end. She won second place at the showcase.

True to her word, Anna took her out for dinner that very night on the condition that Elsa wear the obnoxiously huge, red ribbon. They had to stick it on her shirt with a safety pin. “Alright, where does Madame Second Place want to go for dinner?” Anna asked, dressed in an adorable skirt and blouse combo.

“I was kinda joking, you know?” Elsa said. “You don’t actually have to buy me dinner.”

“Oh please, you can’t get cold feet now. I mean you’re already wearing the ribbon, that’s like… I don’t know, it’s like when your high school prom date puts the corsage on you. It’s official, no backing out.”

Elsa raised an eyebrow, “What so you’re my prom date now?”

Anna pursed her lips, “Well maybe not for prom, it’s too late for that. But I’ll be your date if you want me to.”

That answer leaves Elsa speechless.

“Ooh, I know where we can go!” Anna added before Elsa could finish catching up to the millions of thoughts running through her mind. “There’s this really good Mexican place downtown. I heard they sell this burrito that’s the size of your forearm, and I have long forearms so I wanna see that. Sound good?”

Elsa blinked and said absently, “Yeah, let’s go.” They walked side by side to Anna’s car, all the while Elsa pretended she wasn’t seeing her best friend in a brand new light.

May 15, 2020

It’s a scary feeling to know that you’re in love with your best friend. Even scarier when you’ve considered them your sister for almost two years now. It’s like being strapped in to the world’s best roller coaster against your will. Sometimes it’s exhilarating and you think maybe this isn’t so bad, but most of the time you’re screaming and want to get off.

Elsa’s been on the same damn ride for months now and it hasn’t gotten any easier. But she’s accepted it, which is something she never expected.

All of Anna’s errant touches, her smiles and glances, and even just the way she says “we”… Elsa has second-guessed each and every single one of her behaviors. And yes, she would probably stop overthinking if she’d just talk to Anna but she doesn’t know how. It’s hard enough trying to have a regular conversation with her now, it’s nearly impossible approaching her with a talk about their feelings.

And even so, she’s accepted the fact that she’s fallen in love with her best friend. For the past two years, they’ve been nearly inseparable, there’s no one in the world she knows better or cares about more than Anna. Falling in love with her felt almost inevitable.

But did Anna feel the same way? Well, she’d find out soon.

For the last 3-D showcase of their second year, Elsa had been working on a particularly special project. It didn’t have to do specifically with Anna’s last performance, but it was dedicated to her nonetheless.

Rising from a slab of concrete, she sculpted out a finely detailed rose, complete with a realistic crack where the stem breaks out and defined petals spiraling into the rosebud. It represented Anna’s ability to grow and flourish from a life of a constantly uncertain home life and rough nights on the streets.

At the base of the concrete slab, she wrote ‘For Anna, for everything’. When Anna notices the inscription, that’s when Elsa would tell her how she feels.

She shut herself out from the world for a particularly long time; Anna only saw her when they were walking to classes together, and even then Elsa remained tight-lipped so as to not spoil the surprise. Her patience had to be rewarded, she figured, or else this would have all been for nothing.

When the showcase finally arrived, Elsa waited anxiously for Anna to show up. She said she would be running late because she needed to meet someone, but that was fine because it gave Elsa more time to figure out what she’d say to the judges. Which in turn helped keep her from pacing around the showcase floor like a lonely, lovesick puppy.

When the judges came, she defended the lack of complex expression and vibrancy of her piece by quoting Henry David Thoreau’s opinion on simplicity. And she covered the etching with her hand because that was one question she’d rather not answer just yet. At least not to them. The judges looked impressed with her answers and one of them even mentioned that she had a knack for giving life to her sculptures. The high from that compliment should have lasted her throughout the entire day, but it was shot down almost immediately.

When the judges left, she saw Anna walking towards her. But she wasn’t alone, she was with a guy.

And they were holding hands.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, I was waiting for this guy to get his fucking shoes on.” Anna patted the guy’s chest with a coy smile. He was tall, proper, and with fashionably thick sideburns. The way he wore his t-shirt and jeans looked awkward, as if he was ripped straight from a 19th century portrait and was forced to wear modern clothes to blend in.

“Hey in my defense, I didn’t know I was going to the showcase until you texted me like half an hour ago,” he said while wrapping her arm around Anna’s shoulders.

“Lies. And propaganda.” Anna turned to Elsa with a softer smile on her lips, which was just another hit to Elsa’s already bruising heart. “Again, I’m sorry I was late but I figured it was time for you two to meet. Elsa, this is Hans. We’ve been dating for a month now.”

A month?

A… a month.

Elsa’s doing her best to remain polite and cordial, but it’s hard when her entire body feels like it’s crumbling onto the floor. She extends a hand out anyway, wincing when Hans takes it with more strength than she’s expecting. “It-It’s nice to meet you, Hans. Anna’s lucky to have you around.” The words come out of her mouth like a rejected poison.

Anna talked some more, so did Hans, and maybe Elsa nodded and smiled when she needed to, but for the life of her she couldn’t tell you what the hell they talked about. When it came time for the… couple to examine Elsa’s sculpture, Anna beamed at her with that same pride that was on her face since day one and Hans said she did a good job. Elsa kept her hand over the inscription the entire time.

She won another second place ribbon. When Anna noticed the inscription, Elsa said it was a thank you for being a wonderful friend. Each word felt like pulling teeth.

September 4, 2020

They met at the campus coffee shop while Elsa was isolating herself. Ironically, Anna was going there to get a hot chocolate to surprise Elsa.

She brought Anna and Hans together.

It was a very lonely summer for Elsa. Since Hans lived in New Jersey, it wasn’t that hard for him to visit Anna whenever he wanted, which is exactly what he did. They spent almost every moment of the summer together, and while Elsa pretended to be happy with getting texts, the occasional phone call, and a surprise weekend visit from her best friend, none of it could stop the constant ache in her heart.

Move-in day for their third year was especially brutal, she unpacked absentmindedly while listening to Anna and Hans joke around and kiss when they thought she wasn’t looking. She tried all summer to let go of the feelings for Anna and to just be happy for her, but it felt like the more she tried, the more she held on.

“Alright, that’s the last box.” Anna wiped her hands on her jeans and looked at Elsa and then at Hans. “Let me just change out of this gross, sweaty shirt and we can get something to eat?”

“Of course, babe.” Hans kissed her and walked out of the girls’ dorm, Elsa finally let go of the breath she’d held since they started moving their stuff in.

“You’re coming with us, right?” Anna asked.

Elsa wasn’t expecting her to to talk to her, and she had to take a second for her mouth to catch up with her mind. “Uh no that’s okay,” she finally replied. “You two enjoy yourself, I want to unpack all of my stuff before I eat.”

Anna raised an eyebrow, “Are you sure? If you’re worried about being a third wheel, trust me it’s not gonna be like that.”

Elsa tapped her fingers on the stacked boxes in front of her. “No, I’m just not hungry yet. That’s all.”

“Well… alright, but I’ll bring you back some food and I won’t take no for an answer.” Anna peeled off her shirt and disappeared in her room to find a new one. From somewhere inside the room, she added, “We’ll hang out sometime soon okay? Just the two of us.”

October 1, 2020

'Sometime soon’ turned out to be nearly a month later. It wasn’t for lack of trying, but with the third year at Douglas being notoriously difficult, they needed to spend a little more time adjusting to the bigger workload and busier schedules. And any free time Anna did have was taken up by Hans…

Elsa continued to pretend to be okay, and she actually relished how busy their third year was going to be because it gave her something else to think about. A six-page essay on contour ate up time she was going to spend thinking about the sexual innuendo Hans was 'accidentally’ adding to him and Anna’s conversations.

The busy times couldn’t last forever, though, and Anna and Elsa finally found some time to spend together- just the two of them- one night on top of one of Douglas’ parking garages. It was a place they’d gone to many times just to get away from the staunch air of pressure and competition in every corner of every building underneath them. This was a place for them to breathe, a home away from a home away from home.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around as much lately,” Anna said, breaking the silence from their lack of conversation. “It’s just that this is the first relationship I’ve been in and… I don’t know, it’s exciting and new. Not that things aren’t like that with you, it’s just-”

“Anna, you don’t have to apologize. Whatever time I get to spend with you is just fine.” Elsa bites her tongue before she can say that she still wishes she had more time with Anna.

“I just don’t want you to feel like I’m neglecting you, that’s all.”

“Well, you’re not, so it’s okay. I’m okay.”

“Okay…” Anna scooted closer to her, their bare elbows touching made the nerves in Elsa’s arm tingle and send shockwaves through her entire body. “Sooooo, you want to know what I’m doing for my next performance? You know, so you can start figuring out what you’re gonna do for the showcase.”

Elsa looked away, “I don't… I think I’m gonna skip the showcase this time.” She wanted to say she was going to skip the showcase this year, but that would have set off too many alarms in Anna’s head. She could deal with the one alarm she saw going off behind her best friend’s eyes.

“How come?” she asked.

“It just looks like it’s gonna be a real busy year, and I think I need to focus on getting through it. Once I can do that, then I can start thinking about sculpting again.”

“I… see.” Anna looked out across the campus. “And that’s the only reason?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?” Elsa wondered if there was something she said, or some visible part of her full of pain that she’d forgotten to cover up.

Anna shrugged, “No reason. Just wondering.”

Elsa didn’t have it in her to pry, so she also went back to looking at the buzzing nightlife of Douglas Academy. With luck, they wouldn’t have to address this ever again.

November 30, 2020

Luck remained on Elsa’s side for nearly two months, and then they returned from Thanksgiving Break. Anna had declined her invitation to spend Thanksgiving with her, and instead she spent it with Hans’ family. Who, as it turned out, was exceptionally rich.

Anna spent a good hour gushing over their massive house with the hot tubs (plural) and rooms as big as their whole dorm, and then talked about all the people that were there for Thanksgiving dinner and how amazing the food was. Knowing Anna’s struggles, Elsa tried to remain supportive while she gushed over Hans and his family and his really nice house. And then she said something that should have remained a thought.

“Sounds like you dodged a bullet not joining me for Thanksgiving.”

Anna pounced on that out-of-character remark immediately. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Gosh, what could she say that wouldn’t sound passive-aggressive? Elsa decided on, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by that. I’m really glad you had a good time on break.”

For a second, that looked like it would work. And then Anna closed her eyes and sighed, “Oh god… you don’t like Hans.”

Elsa didn’t say anything, which is the worst thing she could have said.

“Elsa, we’ve been going out for months now. Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I…I guess I…”

Anna sighed and waved her hand, “Never mind, I guess it doesn’t matter. Look, I like you both so I don’t want things to feel awkward or whatever. What can I do to help? I want you to like Hans so that things don’t suck between us.”

There’s nothing Anna needed to do, this was a problem that Elsa had to deal with on her own. That’s what she wanted to say to her best friend. But instead, there was another disconnect between her brain and her mouth and she said something that was bound to make things worse, “You don’t even know why I don’t like him.”

Anna nodded, “You’re right. So why don't you like him?”

Elsa wrung her hands together, “Anna, we shouldn’t talk about this.”

“What? But you’re the one that brought it up.”

“I know, but it’s just not… this won’t end well.”

“Is this one of those things where the protective older sister hates every guy her sister dates and thinks that no one’s good enough for her?”

“No,” Elsa replied. And under her breath, she muttered, “I wish.”

“Elsa, we’re the only two people in your room. I heard that.” She scooted across the bed to get closer to Elsa, their fingers nearly touching were enough for Elsa to feel like her arm was on fire. “Just… tell me what’s wrong. Please?”

Though it felt like the wrong thing to do, Elsa pulled her hand away. “I don’t know if I can,” she replied. “Can we drop it please? For now?”

“… okay.”

December 13, 2020

This was the longest time Elsa and Anna had gone without talking to each other. Sure, they were polite and fake when Hans was hanging out in their dorm, and they still said good morning and whatnot to each other, but they hadn’t made an effort to really talk to each other in two weeks.

Knowing this was her fault, Elsa set out to craft an apology to Anna. After deciding on recreating the canary she made her during their first year, this time in concrete, she went to work quickly on creating the mesh outline for it. One night, during this process, she heard a knock on her door. A knock that could only belong to one person.

She took a deep breath and then opened her door. “Hey Anna,” she said far too generically.

“Do you love me?”

Elsa tensed up so much she almost tore her doorknob off. Any answer would have been a good one, but instead she remained frozen in silence.

“Hans and I had a fight and he said…well I mean he thought that… areyou in love with me?”

Still as a statue, much like the concrete rose Anna’s holding in her hand, Elsa somehow found her voice long enough to say, “Anna, I didn't…”

Anna nodded, and in the darkness of their shared loft Elsa could finally see that her best friend had been crying recently. “I should have known. I’m sorry.” She walked away, pressing the concrete rose closer to her chest, and disappeared into her room.

January 20, 2021

Though their relationship had hit an all-time low, Elsa felt it was wrong not going to Anna’s performance. She still very much wanted to support her best friend even if they still weren’t talking all that much. But Anna smiled at her the other day and that… gave Elsa hope somehow? Either way, it was enough to get her to stop being a coward and show up to the performance.

She arrived at the auditorium just in time to see Anna walk on to the stage, but not with enough time to find a seat. So she stood by the entrance awkwardly as the music began playing through the speakers. What conspired for the next five minutes was the most poignant expression of heartbreak and longing that Elsa had ever seen in dance form.

It started off as a simple ballroom dance, and though Anna had no partner you wouldn’t realize it in the way she moved. But her mystery partner continued to pull away no matter how many times Anna chased after them. When the partner disappeared, Anna continued to dance alone and while her moves were perfect and calculated, she let her posture slump with every break in the song. By the end, she’s nearly dragging herself along the floor hoping to make it to the end of the song, all the while reaching out for someone. Something. The song ends with her laying on the floor breathing heavily and the audience erupting in applause.

And for the first time in a very long time, Elsa felt a jolt of inspiration.

February 15, 2021

Elsa sat by the base of her sculpture. The judges had come to talk to her long ago and spectators were slowly trickling out of the building, but she couldn’t leave yet. In fact, she’d wait all night long for Anna if she had to. The note she left underneath Anna’s door even said so.

This had to be the fastest yet most detailed sculpture she’d ever created and there were no doubts as to what inspired her. Time continued to tick away, and Elsa continued to sit.

Finally, after an eternity, she saw the familiar silhouette of her best friend walking through the door. She was wearing the same skirt and blouse that made Elsa fall in love with her in the first place.

Quietly, Anna closed the gap until they were a couple of feet apart. “I got your note,” she said softly.

Elsa nodded, “I watched your performance.”

“Oh, I… I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.”

“I was in the back of the auditorium. But it was beautiful, I’ve never seen anyone move like you do. I’ve never seen anyone express heartbreak like you did.” Elsa wrung her hands together, “I’m sorry if this is inappropriate, but did you and Hans…”

Anna nodded, “A couple of months ago, actually. But my performance, it… wasn’t about him.”

“It wasn’t?”

“No, it…” Anna took her first glimpse at Elsa’s sculpture and it completely threw her off. “Oh my god.”

Immortalized in concrete was Anna in a stunning ball gown, her face content while she swayed in the arms of her dance partner. Except unlike the gladiator sculpture, Anna’s partner was completely visible.

And it was Elsa.

“I know it’s a little forward, but it didn’t feel right having you dance alone,” Elsa replied. And with much less confidence, she added, “Is that okay?”

Anna looked at her, confusion settled on her face. But then that confusion chipped away slowly but surely until a beautiful smile was seen in its place. “It’s perfect,” Anna replied, “Y-you did it again.”

Elsa blushed, “Well, I do have a pretty wonderful muse.”

“Well, I think that muse owes you dinner. What do you say?” Anna reached out her hand, eyes telling her that this was what she wanted.

“She doesn’t owe me anything.” Elsa took her hand and a lovely, warm feeling enveloped her. “But I’d be glad to go with her.”

Anna squeezed her hand and said, “Then it’s a date.”

Elsa’s sculpture won first place that day.

#elsanna #submission #august 2021 contest #prompt: flowers

[thejilyship]

11. A Step Behind You

Hey everyone! I wanted to post this last week, but I only just got the internet situation figured out, so thank you for your patience! This is the third prompt that I’ve written for Jilytober from my list that you all voted on! 

Muggle office romance au

WC: 2.2k

James just wanted to get home before Sirius, Remus and Peter ate all of his mother’s Christmas biscuits. 

He had tried to steal a couple before heading into the office, but Mia Potter had insisted that he had to wait until tonight and then kicked him out of the house after she caught him in the kitchen ten minutes later, again, trying to knick a biscuit before he had to go to work. 

Also, he was angry that he had to be in the office this close to Christmas in the first place. 

He typed away at his computer, wondering why his boss had been so adamant that he wanted James in the office, when he clearly could have finished up these reports at home.

There were a few other people scattered through the office, looking just as miserable as he felt. 

He was falling into a hypnotic state, hearing nothing but the sound of the keys at the ticking of the clock. Still thinking about the Christmas biscuits. 

And then, out of the corner of his eyes, a flash of red. 

His breath hitched and he whipped his head around, spotting her rushing down the hallway. 

He didn’t know her name, he only saw her every few weeks, and he’d never been able to work out which department that she worked in. He didn’t want to be a creep either, so he couldn’t try too hard. He had just kept hoping that they would eventually run into one another. 

Now, she was carrying a watering can. 

And that just felt like the kind of thing he was allowed to follow her down the hallway to ask about. 

He jumped up from his chair, work and biscuits pushed from his mind, as he followed after her. 

“Excuse me!” He called out, spotting her at the other end of the hallway.

She stopped short, her hair swinging back and forth like a pendulum in her plait. She spun around to face him. “Yes?” 

“What are you doing?” He asked, his hand jumping to his hair now that she was looking directly at him. Her eyes were green. He hadn’t noticed that before. They were a brilliant shade of green as well. 

She looked down at the watering can and then up at him. “I’m surprised no one else has asked me yet,” She gave him a small smile and his heart skipped in his chest. “I came in to pick up my plants before Christmas break, but then I noticed that almost everyone in my office left plants here, so I thought that I would just water them so they’re not all dead when everyone comes back next week.” 

“Oh,” James blinked, not knowing what he had thought her answer was going to be, but the one that she’d given him was just so damn sweet. “Would you like some help?” 

She smiled again, dimples forming at the corners of her mouth. “I’d love some help.” Then she waved for him to follow her and turned around, continuing down the hallway.

James jogged after her so he could catch up. 

And he found out that she worked on his floor. 

For the last few months, all he had to do was follow her down this one hallway and he would have found out that she worked in billing, on the same floor as he did. How had they not ran into one another?

“My name is Lily, by the way.” She said, turning to look over her shoulder as she stepped into the first cubicle in the room and then turned to carefully pour water on a fern on the corner of the desk. “I’m not sure that we’ve met before.” 

“We haven’t.” James said, and then he furrowed his brow. Did he say that too quickly? “I’ve seen you around before, but I didn’t know that you worked just down the hall here. My name is James.” He knew that he needn’t have said all of that and he could feel his ears warming. 

Luckily, she didn’t notice his embarrassment, because she was now focusing on a second fern on the other side of the desk. “Well, I walk past your office almost every day, so I’ve definitely seen you around before.” She looked up and smiled at him, and then she was off to the next cubicle. 

He blinked after her and then followed her again. “What can I do to help?” 

Lily shrugged her shoulders. “I was hoping that you wouldn’t get wise on me, but I only have one watering can. I was hoping to keep you around for the company so that I could ask you for a favor in a few minutes.” 

James had already been intrigued by this girl but she had him on her rope now. He crossed his arms over his chest. “The company? And what if I have important things I should be doing right now?” 

She turned to face him fully, smiling with her dimples again. “Then you probably wouldn’t have offered to help me water plants. Here,” She handed him the watering can and then riffled through the top drawer for a pad of sticky notes and a pen. “Go to the next one, I’ll be right there.” 

James didn’t even question why he was listening to her, he just did as he was told. Which, if anyone who knew him could see him just then, they would think that was very strange. James Potter never did something just because he was told to do it. 

But now he was watering plants, and Lily was following behind him with the sticky notes and the pen. 

“What are you writing?” He asked after the fourth desk. 

“Goodbye notes.” She said, drawing a very embellished heart. 

“But they won’t see these notes until they see you again. Aren’t we watering the plants because-” He stopped and pushed his glasses up his nose. “You said that you were coming to collect your plants.” 

Lily nodded. “I did say that. I got a new job that I started after the new year. My last day was yesterday.” 

James frowned and Lily smiled at him. 

“This is where most people would congratulate a person.” 

“Right,” James nodded, “Right of course, congratulations! Where is your new job?” 

“At a primary school a few blocks west of here,” Lily smiled. “I’ve finally gotten my degree finished, so I get to start teaching!” 

“In the middle of the year?” 

“Yes,” Lily grinned. “One of the teachers went on maternity leave a week ago, so I’ll be taking over her classroom until she gets back.”

“Well that worked out perfectly!” He should have tried to talk to her before today. 

“Yes,” Lily was still grinning and James’ heart was still jumping around in his chest. “I’ve actually had a string of good luck lately.”

And now she was about to tell him that she had a boyfriend and demolish his hopes even further. 

“Like when you asked me what I was doing. That was lucky.” 

James narrowed his brow. He hadn’t been expecting that. “Why was that lucky?” 

“Because I’d never had a reason to go into your office, so I’d never had an opportunity to talk to you before. And I’m never going to have a reason to come back into this building, so,” She shrugged and the peeled off the sticky note and stuck it to the pot that James had just watered. “I don’t know, I’ve got nothing to lose here so I might as well be honest, yes? I think you are rather handsome.” 

James blinked at her, taken aback at her straightforward comment, but also completely shocked that she had noticed him in the same capacity that he had noticed her. 

“Biscuits?” He said stupidly and Lily wrinkled her nose in confusion. 

“Excuse me?” 

“I- I,” His hand was already buried in his hair at this point and he furrowed his brow. “That isn’t what I meant to say.” 

“I thought not,” Lily nodded and then started tapping the pen on her pad of sticky notes. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable-”

“You didn’t.” He said quickly. “I think my brain just- listen,” He dropped his hand from his hair to his side and thens et the watering can down on the desk. “I have obviously noticed you around the office before, and a moment ago I was just kicking myself for never trying to catch you in the hallway.” 

She was smiling again, and James took that to be a good sign. “And you said biscuits because…” 

“My mum is having a holiday biscuit party tonight. I’ve been thinking about them all day.” He shook his head. “Which sounds dumb, but I’m trying to ask you if you’d like to come with me. Unless that’s a terrible idea. I’m saying it outloud and it sounds like it might be a terrible idea.” 

Lily’s smile disappeared. “Is it a terrible idea?” 

“I just asked you to come to a family Christmas party for a first date, that definitely sounds like something that will scare you off.” 

“But it’s a biscuit party.” 

“Yes.” 

“I like like biscuits and I’m not afraid of meeting people either. How many biscuits could I eat before people look at me weird?” 

James started smiling again. It felt very nice to know that his intuition about this girl had been right. “I mean, so long as we don’t see the biscuits that you eat again, no one is going to look at your weird.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “So you want to come then?” 

“Yes,” Lily nodded, poking his arm with the end of the pen. 

“Do you have an ugly Christmas jumper?” 

“Of course.” Lily bounced on her heels and James laughed. “I love Christmas parties and it’s been a while so I’m very excited. Let’s finish up here so I can get home and change!” 

James laughed again and nodded, “Alright, let’s go.” And he picked up the watering can again and headed to the next desk, now even more anxious to get off work.

He still didn’t think that it was a good idea to bring Lily on a first date where not only Remus and Peter would be, but also Sirius and his mother. It actually seemed like a terrible idea when he remembered that Sirius and his mother would be there. It was almost a guarantee that they would scare her off. 

“Are you sure you want to come? I can take you-”

“I’m sure I want to come,” Lily cut him off, peeling off another note and sticking it to another coworkers desk. “The fact that you’re second guessing so much only makes me want to come more.” 

“Giving me a hard time already? We haven’t known each other for more than twenty minutes.” James sighed as he moved on to the next plant. “You’re going to fit right in at this party.” 

She looked over at him, her eyes sparkling. “I knew I was going to like you.” 

“Yeah, well, just remember that when my mum starts asking you how many kids you want.” 

She laughed out loud, startling him slightly, but then he was chuckling along with her. 

“Six.” She said suddenly, looking back at her sticky notes.

“Six?” James’ eyes widened. 

“Four?” Lily offered, looking back up at him. “I’m not entirely sure, but I know it has to be an even number more than two. I was one of two, and my sister and I don’t get along. I think if there were a few more siblings, then we would have had more people to fight with and it would have been spread out more.”

“I was an only child growing up, so my mother will be thrilled with that answer.” 

“Excellent.” She poked him with the pen again. “Alright, I think that’s everyone. Can you help me carry my things down to my car? I don’t know how I managed to accumulate so much stuff over the last year.” 

“Of course,” James set down the watering can and followed her to a counter on the back wall that had two boxes, one full of plants, the other full of books and trinkets. The contents of either box could comfortably fit into the other. “This isn’t so much.” 

“I had a bigger box that I took home with me yesterday.” Lily admitted. “But I uh,” She cocked her head to the side and eyed him before picking up the box with the books in it. “I wanted to make sure that I had enough stuff left here for two boxes so I could ask you for help.” 

“You know,” James picked up the box of plants. “For someone who hasn’t had the nerve to just walk into my office and talk to me, you’ve got a lot of nerve.” 

Lily laughed, “Yes, well, you’re bringing me home to meet your family. My confidence has been bolstered.” 

And as he followed her down to her car, carrying a box of plants that she’d packed separately just so she’d have a reason to talk to him, his heart skipping happily in his chest and his cheeks already sore from all the smiling he’d been doing, he had a feeling that he was stepping into the rest of his life. 

Because he was quite certain that there weren't many places that he wouldn’t follow Lily. 

#jily #jilytober #muggle au #jily au #office romance au #jilytober 2020 prompts

[liibrii]

Chapter 3: In the light, your name

Ojiro Aran x fem!reader

Series Masterpost || Ch. 1 || Ch. 2

wc: 4.7k

warnings: time skip spoilers, swearing, internalised guilt and shame, intrusive thoughts, self doubt, drinking.

a/n: this only took forever cause I got carried away (what a surprise). if you wanna be tagged in future chapters lemme know, and as always feedback is greatly appreciated! 

A step forward, two steps back. Like a dance, just like his mother taught him, dancing and laughing back home, only this dance holds no joy, only cruel turns and twirls and your hand slipping from his as fate whisks you away.

“One Ace special coming up!“ Osamu places a plate of freshly made onigiris in front of Aran. They look amazing, as if taken directly out of one of those fancy cooking books. The practice had been especially gruelling that day and yet Aran has no appetite. All he wants is to go home and sleep. He would have, if Gao hadn't dragged him to the newly opened Tokyo branch of Onigiri Miya.

More out of politeness than really being hungry he takes a bite. It's good, much better than ones he remembers Osamu bringing to practice. “Woah, this is tasty!“

Osamu practically beams at Aran's praise. Even he has changed, notices Aran. Has he grown a little? The grey of his hair is gone, and he smiles so much more. Aran doesn't remember ever seeing him so talkative.

Has everyone changed so much while he wasn't paying attention?

While chewing he pulls phone from his bag, in some silly hope there'd be a message from you. But the screen is empty and seeing his screensaver is almost a mocking to his hopes. What else did he expect? People don't always mean what they say, but a storm doesn't mean to blow away roofs either.

Lost in his thoughts Aran barely takes notice when Gao says his goodbye and other customers slowly start leaving.

Osamu closes the shop then places two more cans of beer on the counter. Without much enthusiasm Aran opens the can and pours the fizzling liquid into a glass. Which drink was it, third? Fourth? For a moment he considers telling Osamu everything. About you, how he feels and how he screwed up. Just to get it out there. But Aran knows Osamu talks to Atsumu, and Atsumu never learned what keeping a secret means. So he blames his sour mood on practice.

 Even if Aran was a good liar Osamu'd see through his little ticks. They've been the same ever since elementary school and so obvious; the nervous scratching of his nails, rubbing of his neck. Ever since he'd grown a beard he added rubbing it to the list.

“I should probably get goin',“ says Aran before downing half the glass in one long gulp.

“What's a few more minutes?“ Osamu doesn't bother pouring his beer. “I'll clean up later. Don't have any other plans anyway.“

A low chuckle leaves Aran's lips. “Life goin' that good, yeah?”

“Could say that. Could be far worse. How about ya?“

Aran massages his temples. He's getting light headed and still he takes another long sip. “Like ya said, could be far worse. Had a rough couple weeks. Women, ya know?“

Osamu hums and nods, wisely. “Women. Got dumped, did ya?“

“In a way...“

“What happened, did ya forget her birthday or somethin'?“

Aran laughs. Oh no, he knows exactly when your birthday is. “Said somethin' stupid.“

“Just somethin'? If she gets upset so fast then maybe she's trouble.“

“Wasn't like that. She trusted me and I... had a bad day and took it out on her.“

Osamu takes an onigiri Aran hasn't touched yet. “Have ya apologised?“ He asks with his mouth full. “Should start with that,“ he continues after Aran shakes his head, “treat her to dinner. I know some good restaurants if ya want. Or better, cook somethin' yerself.“ He opens the browser on his phone. “What's her favorite food?“

Aran tells him. “Whichever recipe ya find I can tell ya right now I can't cook it.“

“I found a few even Tsumu can make,“ laughs Osamu still scrolling through his phone. “What's she like? More into fancy stuff or more homey? Fried rice's easy but not very fancy, more of a safe bet. Maybe with an omelette. I can show ya how to make it to look like a panda. Success guaranteed!“

“How can omelette look like a panda? It's yellow.“ 

“A yellow bear then,“ Osamu shruggs before putting away his phone. “Does she like bears?“

“Does- I ain't sure...“

“Ya don't know?“

“No! Why would I? Is that what ya ask folk ya take on dates?“

“Usually I ask what they think about apple curry.“

“I don't think she likes apple curry... Or maybe she does...“ He gloomily stares at the empty glass in front of him. “Gimme one more.“

Osamu obliges and pours him one more, deciding this is the last one for him. Aran's eyes are getting glassy and he dreamily observes the white foam before downing half the glass.

“We went down to the Kamakura beach,” he says, scratching at his immaculate fingernails. “She looked s' pretty in the sunset... She likes sunsets... I think. Ain't sure 'bout anythin' these days.“

“Everyone likes sunsets,“ nods Osamu. “Never trust people who don't like seein' sunsets. I'm tellin' ya, buy her some udon. Or bring her here, I'll give ya a special discount.“

Aran bursts into laughter. “He'll know then...“ Osamu leans his head to the side, wondering what his old teammate meant by that. “She's ex of a friend.“

“Ow,“ is all Osamu says. That explains everything. You don't date a friends' ex. “Sorry. She sounds great.“

“Yeah, yeah she is... Kinda almost like a whasit's called again, kotatsu? Warm...“ He's just blabbering now, his mind a hazy labyrinth of disconnected thoughts. He misses you, he misses you so bad, and he fucked up, and he doubts cooking you a dinner would repair the damage he's done. Once it would be pretty easy to bribe you with the right snacks but you've changed. You've changed so much he still fears he doesn't know you at all. “Hey Samu? Hav' I changed?“

“Yea? I doubt the old Aran-kun wouldda come to me for advice.“

Corners of Aran's lips perk up. Why is his glass empty? “Yer a good guy ‘Samu. Can ya call me a taxi? I've got practice t'morrow.“

He has to stop visiting Onigiri Miya on the evenings Aran thinks on another morning after drinking and talking with Osamu till late night hours. The cool breeze of the early morning hours is refreshing but isn't doing anything to ease the hammering in his head. Sky without a cloud promises the day to be sunny and hot. Aran's just glad he found his sunglasses ad that the gym has air conditioning.

There's a distant ringing in his ears. Ringing that doesn't stop and causes other people on the train to send him sideway looks. It's because his phone is ringing but he's too focused on trying not to throw up to notice. He only does so once he's walking the short walk from the train station to the gym. Seeing your name over the 'missed call' almost makes him drop the phone. He calls you back, frantically tapping his fingers on his arm, hoping you'll pick up. You don't.

The sun is too bright. Pouring rain would be more appropriate to his mood. Aran's glad he can hide from the warm rays inside the gym. No matter his mood volleyball always takes his mind off things, and even now he hopes it will help him see things more clearly. The thought of you has become a wind chime, singing at every little thing that makes him think of you. Staying focused on the ball in front of him is harder than expected. But first and foremost he's a professional volleyball player with a new season just around the corner. He can't let his team, his fans down. Since your first year of high school you've been his supporter too. He can't let you down.

When his phone rings again he’s in the middle of receiving drills and this call too goes unanswered. Instead your message waits for him.

           (9. 45) Aran are u free this Sunday? the shrine down the street is holding a festival. wanna come?  

A wide smile spreads over his face. He's more than happy to come he writes back, his smile spreading even wider when only a few moments later you text him place and time.

“Ojiro what are you looking at?“ Gao peers over his shoulder and Aran quickly puts his phone away.

“Nothin'“

“Nothing, ey? Does the nothing have a name?“

Aran rolls his eyes and heads for the showers, ignoring the teasing laughter of his teammates. Honestly, he's too excited to see you to care.

Aran glances on his phone to check the time. Five more minutes and he'll be only ten minutes early. He kicks the small stone form the pavement onto the road. Then he straightens his shirt. Maybe this colour wasn't the right choice after all, maybe you would've liked the red one better. Once in passing Akagi said red looked good on him. He sends you a short message, letting you know he's already here.

Minutes later he catches the sight of your figure manoeuvring between visitors flocking towards the many stands. “Sorry, I got worried all the best mochi'd sell out,“ you apologise, pointing to plate full of different kinds of mochi in your hand. “Samu isn't here yet?“

“No.“ His heart clenches. He didn't even think about the possibility of you inviting anyone else. “He's probably just late,“ he quickly adds, “let me call him.“

“Always late,“ you complain, “tell him I got his mochi but if he doesn't appear soon I'll just eat them myself. Want one?“

He declines the sweet and you shrug. While he waits for Osamu to pick up he avoids looking at you. The call goes unanswered. “I'll send him a message.“

“Tell him every minute he's late is a free onigiri,“ you mumble, your mouth full of delicious mochi. “And he's paying for drinks. I saw a stand with soya smoothies up the street. And a stand with takoyaki.“

“Have ya mapped out all the food stands?“ chuckles Aran.

“Well you know Samu, food is his best motivator. You sure you don't want one?“

He gives in and takes the matcha one. He watches with a fond smile as you stuff an entire mochi in your mouth.

“What?“ you mumble when you catch him staring.

“Ya look like a hamster.“

You roll your eyes in an effort to cover the smile creeping on your face. “Very funny. How's life?“

“It's fine,“ he nods, awkwardly.

“Good.“

“Yeah.“ He rubs his chin. The beard is getting a little long. He glances over at you. He should say something. But what? “I'm really sorry about what I said,“ he finally utters. “I do care. About you.“

“We all say things we don't mean, right?“ The soft look in your eyes makes his throat tighten. He hurt you and yet here you are. Reaching out, again. “It's all water under the bridge. Besides, I really missed hanging out with you. So, where do ya wanna go?“

“Shouldn't we wait for Osamu?“

“Nah. It's his fault for being late, he'll find us. And he better buy us those smoothies. Want one more mochi? You should really try the chocolate one, it's amazing.“

Never again. Aran doesn't want to see you hurt ever again.

The festival is crowded, which is to be expected in Tokyo, and he keeps an eye out for you. The last thing he wants is to lose you somewhere in the sea of people. He stays close, quietly delighting in seeing your excitement over different attractions of the festival. A few times your hand brushes against his, sending a shiver down his spine.

Osamu never shows up, messaging about an hour later he got stuck at work, promising you both as many onigiri as you'd like the next time you come around Onigiri Miya. “A shame. I was hoping to hang out with him while he's still in Tokyo.“

“He'll have time in the future,“ says Aran, doing his best to ignore the pang of jealousy in his chest.

“Probably. But will there be fresh soya smoothie for him to treat me to?“

Aran buys you the smoothie you so crave, grinning upon seeing your excitement. You walk around the festival grounds and from time to time he steals sips of your smoothie. You pout and nag he should buy one for himself but don't stop him. 

As night falls you search for a good place to watch the fireworks from. Just after they start Aran puts his hand on the small of your back to gently push you forward so you'd see better. But you don't budge and he bumps into you, his chest to your back. The sounds of festival fade, as if the crowd disappeared and all that remains is you, looking at him, fireworks reflecting in your eyes. The softness of your gaze causes his heart to do somersaults. You snicker and flick his nose.

Tease, he thinks and tickles you. He wishes he could properly put his arms around you and rest his head on your shoulder. He wishes he was here as more than just your friend. He wishes he alone would be enough of a reason for you to always have the same soft look in your eyes.

But if Kita, the perfect Kita Shinsuke, Kita who knew you better than anyone wasn't enough, how could he be?

His hand lingers on your arm for a heartbeat longer. He could try, he could always love you with all he has and hope you'd love him back, hope he could be enough. But if he failed... he'd only hurt you more, wouldn't he? And you've been hurt enough.

During lunch break his phone rings and his hearts jumps, hoping it's you. But instead Osamu's name is written over the screen. A bit disappointed Aran picks up.

“Aran-kun whatcha doin' this Saturday?“ Not even a'hello'. So many years and still so rude.

“Practice till afternoon, then watchin' a movie.“

“Amazin'! Want some company?“

A boys' night out? Why not? It would be nice to spend some time with someone who wasn't his teammate. “'Course.“

Osamu laughs. “Knew ya would. I happen to know someone interested in a blind date. I'll tell her to meet ya at the cinema.“

“What? Osamu I'm not really one for blind dates-“

“The ex of a friend. She's Kita-san' ex, isn't she?“ Aran's silence is an answer enough. “Ya asked me for advice. This is it, go out, try meetin' someone else. Whatever you want to have with her it won't end well.“

Aran knows. He knows all that. He knows you returning his feelings would be the worst case scenario. Sooner or later he'd have to tell Kita. “I know,“ he says. “I know that.“

Osamu doesn't answer immediately, waiting if Aran will add anything else. “Just go on this one date, see how it goes.“

“I'll think about it.“

He does think about it. The entire day in fact. Meeting someone new would be nice and who knows, she might be the one he's waiting for. A part of him, the guilty part that's been way too loud in the past weeks, stays firmly against the idea. Searching for the right one when you're right here. What if this blind date is just a crazy fan who somehow found her way to meeting him? And what about you, it asks? It would be cruel wouldn't it, leading you on while going on dates behind your back.

But he isn't leading you on, Aran argues with the voice inside his head, you're just a friend anyway. He cares about you yes, but only as a really good friend. Osamu is right, you should never be more than that. You're Kita's ex. And you don't date your friend's ex. So why break his heart further?

           (17.48) I'll go on the date. send me time and place.

That's the thing about making plans, the moment you make them something else comes up. Just the following day his phone rings, making his heart flutter when he sees your name.

“Hey.“ Your voice alone makes him smile. “I, uhm, I have a request.“

No beating around the bush. It makes Aran wonder if you've been hanging with Osamu so much you picked up his habits. “Oh, do ya?“

“Yeah. It’s is a bit awkward... Listen, I have a very important exam next week but my roommate's gonna have her boyfriend over for the entire weekend. Let's just say earplugs aren't helping and leave it at that, yeah? So, could I maybe crash at your place till then? I just need a quiet place to study. I can sleep on the couch! Or the floor, I really don't care!“

“'Course ya can,“ says Aran without hesitation.

This is how we finds himself sitting with a bunch of your notes in his lap, you leaning on his back explaining one of the questions. There are at least 4 empty mugs on the desk of his living room. He hopes you've left some coffee for breakfast.

He's amazed by how naturally you fit into his life. Almost like the space beside his shoes in the closet was meant for yours and the jacket hanging beside his was always meant to be there. You've even found your favourite mug already. The bedroll on the floor of the living room is the only reminder you're only crashing at his place for a couple of days. If you asked he'd let you stay longer.

The next morning you wake up the same time as him, sipping your first cup of coffee for the day, half asleep and draped in the hoodie he strategically left on the counter last night. You don't even raise a brow when he takes your phone and asks you to unlock it. “I'll send ya a playlist. Just some classical music. It's good for studyin'.“

“Sure,“ you answer in a groggy voice. “Have fun bouncing the ball around,“ you wave him off when he gets ready to leave.

Your sleepy face makes him smile for the rest of the day. Practice runs longer than usual and he returns late, stepping over two stairs at the time. The lights are still on when he enters but there's no answer when he calls out. He finds you behind the desk, so absorbed in your notes you don't notice his approach. When he places his hands on your shoulders you jump and shriek. “Aran!“ You remove your headphones. “Do you want to give me a heart attack?!“ He laughs and you smack his leg before he sits on the floor beside you.

“Is the material so interestin'?“ He looks over your many notes and pushes an empty mug to the edge of the table.

“I was listening to music,“ you rub your eyes. He notices they look a bit reddish. He takes your phone and clicks the play button and music continues. It only takes him a moment to recognise the piece.

“Dmitri Shostakovich, Waltz number 2. My mom's favourite. Used to dance to it with dad every Thursday.“

“That's sweet.“

He stands up and offers you his hand. “Come, ya need a break.“

You take his hand without question, only raising your brow when he places his left hand on your back. “Ya have to put your hand on my shoulder,“ he grins to your more than apparent confusion.

“Oh, right,“ you mumble. “I can't really dance you know. Not waltz at least.“

He gently holds your right hand in his and gives you a reassuring squeeze. “Don't worry, I'll teach ya. I start with my right foot forward, ya step back with yer left, yep, just like that, then my left foot forward,“ you jump in surprise when he turns you around, “and the first turn, now yer right foot forward, then left, and turn. See, it ain't hard.“

“Easy for you to say,“ you disagree, your eyes fixed on his feet and your mind preoccupied with trying not to step on his toes.

“Just follow my lead,“ grins Aran, gently pulling you a little closer.

He counts the steps and beats in his head and step after another you relax and follow his lead. All those Thursdays when dad wasn't home and mom pulled him into taking his place are finally paying off.

“I didn't know you could dance so well.“

Aran laughs at your words and gently pushes you into a twirl under his arm. “I guess there's a lot ya don't know,“ he says when he pulls you closer again. 

You follow his steps and soon begin catch on the slightest of his moves. Music changes but you don't let go so you dance on through his living room, off beat and saying quiet 'Sorry's,' every time you step on his toes. The way your brows furrow when you mess up is adorable but Aran doesn't give you the time to ponder over the mistake, pulling you into the next turn with ease and certainty of someone who has danced these steps countless times.

When the last song ends Aran leaves his hand on your back. You're so close, your hand in his. Looking and smiling at him. His eyes linger on your lips. It would take so little to close the space between you. So little that would change so much.

He pulls away.“ Do ya want tea?“

“Don't I always?“ you muse and head to put the water on, then open the cupboard but the last cups stand on the highest shelf and even on your tiptoes you can't reach them. Aran gently pushes you to the side and reaches for them. “Here.“

He pours himself a glass of water then pulls his phone out to check the time. Shit. The blind date. That's today! He glances over at you, making your tea, humming the melody of the last song you danced too. His heart drops.

What is he doing? He can't... This is getting out of control. He clenches the glass tighter. You're so close, he wouldn't even have to fully extend his arm to tap your shoulder. If, right here and now, he told you how he feels, how would you react? He lifts the glass to his lips. Probably not in the way he wants you to. A leap of faith, one that could take him anywhere. To the love of his life, he thinks watching you stir, or to the stone to shatter the friendship you both tried so hard to rebuild. A risk he doesn't have the courage to take.

The half empty glass he leaves in the sink draws your attention. You watch Aran head for the bedroom and you don't think much of it. It's his apartment, he can do what he wants. It's only when almost ten minutes pass that you decide to poke your head through the door to see what he's up to. The clothes he's wearing certainly aren't what one would wear for staying at home. “Going somewhere?“ you ask, curious as to why he's wearing a pretty alright polka dotted shirt.

“I have a date.“ He awkwardly fixes his collar. He doesn't want to meet your eyes.

There's a short silence before you answer. “A date? In this shirt?“

Your judgemental tone makes him turn. “What's wrong with this shirt?”

You scrunch up your nose. “It gives you that,“ you wiggle your fingers, “successful businessman in his forties looking for a wife vibes.“

“What's wrong with that?“

“What's wrong with-?! Aran! You're a professional athlete!“ You enter his bedroom and start looking through the closet. “Don't you get invited to fashion shows and stuff? One would expect you'd get some fashion sense purely through osmosis. Ouch!“ you yelp when he playfully smacks your shoulder. “Here, this one.“ You hand him a shirt of dark violet colour.

He takes it from your hands and inspects it. Then he hands it back. “I like this one better. And I'm runnin' late already anyway.“

You shrug and hang it back. “As you wish Mr. CEO. Wait, are you bringing your date back here?! Shit, I need to clean up my stuff.“

“Relax. I'm not bringin' anyone back. It's a blind date anyway. Ya keep studyin' alright? I'll be very disappointed if ya don't get the highest mark.“

“What do you mean a blind date? Damn, I didn't expect that from you player boy,“ you tease and it's a distraction enough for Aran to miss the forced smile.

“Osamu's idea.“

A small “Ah,“ is all you reply at first. “Get going then, being late is the worst you can be on the first date!“ You push him out of the room. “Have fun, don't say anything stupid, and don't only talk about volleyball.“

“It's not my first date y/n, gosh, stop bein' such a mom. Why are ya so excited anyway?“

“Probably too much caffeine.“

When he returns you're still up. You have two cups of tea ready before he even takes his shoes off.

“So, how was it?“ You push the cup across the table. “Come on, come on, no need to be shy,“ you grin, “tell me!“

Aran rolls his eyes at your sudden excitement. “It was nice, but nothin’ special,“ he tells you.

“Just nice?“ You tap your fingers on the table. Aran recognises the rhythm, it's one of your favourite songs. You sent it to him a few days ago. “Dating must be harder now that you're famous,“ you say, absent-mindedly. “Or is it easier?“

Before answering he takes a cracker from the bowl on the table. “Harder,“ is the answer he settles on. “Ya never know if they're attracted to ya or yer status. What about ya?“ He focuses on chewing crackers and taking small sips of tea, anything to keep from glancing at you.

“Ah you know,“ you sigh, “have enough other problems at the moment. College is messing with my head enough already. Why put another person in the mix?“ This time Aran doesn't miss how your voice trembles, and how you rub your forehead. Maybe you just have a light headache. You do look exhausted.

He changes the subject, feeling the talk of dating is quickly approaching dangerous territory. “How are ya feelin'? With studyin' and all?“

You lean on your hand. “Could be much worse. It's just a lot. Probably should have started with studying earlier.“

“But with work ya didn't even have enough time, right? Don't be too hard on yerself.“

“Actually, I quit. I thought it would help me focus on studying,“ you say upon seeing his questioning gaze.

“Ya know what will help ya study better? Some good night's sleep.“ He takes your empty cup. “I'll do the dishes, ya go ready for bed. No talkin' back,“ he points his finger to your face, “ my house, my rules. No stayin' up past midnight.“

“It's one in the morning.“

“Past time for ya to go to bed then young lady.“

After that you don't protest and before he even finishes doing the dishes you're snuggled on your bedroll and half asleep. Seeing you fills him with warmth. He could get used to this, coming home to you every night. He turns the lights off.

When he lays in his bed he wonders what's with the sinking feeling in his chest. There's anger. Why were you so excited for his date in the first place? Why did you look almost disappointed when he said it was nothing special? He hugs his pillow, thinking he'd much rather it was you in his arms. You must be soft. If only you'd be here, his nose filled with the scent of your shampoo. Teeth of shame sink in his heart. Why does he have to feel like this?

He wants you to be jealous. It's so damn childish, he knows that. It's something his teenager self felt when you hugged Kita after a game but only gave him a high five and a head pat.

How long is he going to keep lying to himself? He's in love with you. Not the you he remembers. You here and now. You sipping your fourth cup of coffee, you frantically flipping through notes wearing one of his old hoodies. That at least hasn't changed; you still steal any hoodie you can get your grabby little hands on. Not steal, he corrects himself, borrow. You borrow them. For an undetermined period of time.

He buries his face in the pillow. You're not the always cheerful manager he remembers anymore. But you are still you.

Tag list: @aonenthusiast @rosecaffelatte @kara-grayson04

#ojiro aran #ojiro aran x reader #ojiro aran imagine #ojiro aran x y/n #aran x reader #aran x y/n #aran x you #hq #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu x reader #inarizaki x reader #inarizaki x y/n #all that is gold #libri scribbles

[destiniesfic]

132 Hours, Chapter 4:

“I think I have a plan. But…”

Cardan sits forward. “But?”

“I don’t know if it’ll get you out.”

Previous

Read chapter 4 on AO3, or read below:

“You know what?” I ask abruptly, some time later.

Cardan picks up his head. “What?”

“I need to use the bathroom.”

His brow furrows, and then he looks vaguely panicked for the first time. “Um, right. Well, it’s not a big space, but I can turn around—”

I sigh. “No. Why don’t you go knock on the door and ask them to take me outside?”

Cardan blinks at me. “Oh,” he says. “You don’t want to try that yourself?”

“You’re the alpha.” I shrug. “They’re more likely to listen to you than to me.”

“Huh. Yeah. Good point.” He looks at me a little longer, head cocked, and then a grin breaks across his face like a sunrise. I feel my cheeks warm and hate that some cruel trick of fate assures that even though I know he is one of the world’s worst human beings, a small, primal part of me will always find him attractive. “How’s it feel?”

“How does what feel?”

“Bossing me around. Seems to come pretty naturally to you.”

I roll my eyes. I don’t need anyone else reminding me that I’m the world’s worst excuse for an omega. Being valedictorian sealed that. Valerian sealed that. My smart mouth sealed it, too. “Shut up, Greenbriar.”

His grin widens. “That the best you got?”

I glare. “Stop talking if you want the part of you that apparently makes you so ‘superior’ to me to remain intact.”

“A little vague, but we’ll workshop it.” Cardan pushes himself to his feet. With his long legs, it only takes him two strides to cross the room to the door. He glances at me. “If they shoot me, it’s your fault.”

“I’ll cry big, fat tears at your funeral.”

“You’d better write a kick-ass eulogy. You’re a good speaker, right? I don’t really remember graduation.”

Probably drunk, I think. Or high. “Can you just knock?”

Cardan raises his hand and deals the door three hard raps, so loud I nearly jump. He waits a beat, then says, “Oh, no answer. Well, I guess I’ll—”

“What is it?”

This time it’s a woman’s voice that comes through the door. Cardan and I glance at each other. “Bathroom,” he calls. I notice the way he instinctively pitches his voice a little lower, trying to sound more adult, more alpha. “Both of us. And I’m thirsty.”

There’s another pause, then the woman says, “Step back, then. Against the far wall.”

Raising both his hands, Cardan retreats until his back hits the wall. I stand, too, awaiting whatever might happen when the door opens.

But when it does, I am momentarily taken aback. A small woman stands there, holding a different pistol, one better suited to her hand than the man’s. Like the scarred man, she too has a distinct appearance: her brown skin is dappled white from vitiligo, and her hair, too, is a shocking white cloud of curls around her face. She’s pretty, I realize. Totally out of place holding a gun in a hostage situation.

She is holding a gun, though—smaller than her companion’s, so they aren’t trading off—and keeps it fixed on Cardan even when she looks at me. “You first,” she says. “Through the door. Come on.”

I do need to pee, but this is what I really want: a chance to get a glimpse of the space outside of our small room. I nod and take cautious steps, edging myself around her and out of the door, careful not to make any moves that would seem threatening and spook her into firing that gun. But she keeps it trained on Cardan until I am out, which is when she finally turns away from him.

She keeps the barrel of her pistol aimed at me as she secures both locks, and I look around. It is a larger open area and in the middle is a round plastic table with four chairs. In one of the chairs sits the scarred man, playing Solitaire. He looks up. “What’s this?”

“Bathroom break,” says the woman, taking my arm. It’s comical—she’s tiny, barely comes up past my shoulder—but she’s the one with the weapon. I let her lead me through the main space, which is mostly bare. Aside from the table and chairs, I see a mini-fridge plugged into one wall, and stairs that lead out of the basement.

I hope my escort is going to take me upstairs so I can get a sense of the situation, but I am not that lucky. Instead she steers me past the tables to a short hallway on the other side of the main space. There are two doors, and she motions me toward the first one.

“In there,” she says.

I don’t thank her, because what point is there in thanking my abductor? I just open the door and go inside. The bathroom is just a bathroom, but it has toilet paper and a functioning toilet and a sink and paper towels, which is all I need at the moment. There is also a shower stall in the corner with a frosted glass door, which makes me think that this is the basement of a house after all. The room we are being kept in might have once been a very small guest bedroom, or a storage room.

Someone has left bar soap in a little tray in the sink. It looks old and grody, its color faded to an unattractive pale green, but I soap my hands up anyway after I finish my business, and then I splash water on my face. I always keep a spare elastic around my wrist and use it to pull my hair, now an unruly tangle of loose curls, back from my face. I am glad I thought to wear a sweatshirt over my black tank top—I’ll probably need that to stay warm when night falls. I stare at my face in the mirror until my vision splits, and then shake my head. I cannot crack now. I can’t. I will get through this. I have been through worse. A terrible car wreck, a rocky transition to a new home, years of bullying that culminated in something worse. I can survive this, too.

So I go back outside, where the woman takes me by the arm and leads me back to my prison. I don’t protest. I am quiet, and hopefully look dazed and a little scared. No one can know I’m already planning to escape, that I still have my wits about me.

My escort undoes the locks, then pushes me back into the room, and, with the gun trained on Cardan, she says, “All right. You next.”

Cardan, who had taken up his position in the corner again, scrambles to his feet. His eyes flick over me, head to toe, like he’s judging me for looking disheveled when he himself isn’t much better off. I listen for the click of the locks, and am only a little disappointed when I hear them.

Blessedly alone, I sit on the edge of the mattress, inventorying what I know. The main obstacle will be whatever lies upstairs, but I don’t think there is any way to convince our captors to take me out for fresh air. Maybe I can claim a condition? Asthma? I doubt they would buy it.

It only takes a couple of minutes for the door to open and Cardan to come back in, the small woman at his back. He holds a bottle of water fresh from the mini-fridge, condensation already gathering on its surface. I am glad to see the water, hoping I can steal a swig and banish the greasy feeling of cold McMuffin from my mouth once and for all.

“In,” the woman urges Cardan, and he takes another step inside the room so he’s well clear of the door. I think it’s weird that he doesn’t protest, or talk back to her like he did to me, but he had been stalling then, and now there’s actual danger.

I am starting to realize that when he doesn’t hold power in a situation, Cardan Greenbriar is kind of a coward.

This should make me feel smug, but I would rather have a brash alpha to use as a shield while we make our escape. It’ll be fine. Alpha or not, hopefully I have enough brashness for the both of us.

The woman looks from me to Cardan, then back to me. Her eyes look almost kind. “I am sorry about this,” she says. “We were only meant to take him.”

“Um,” I say. “Oh.”

“It shouldn’t be too much longer.”

“That’s… good.” I look at Cardan, who seems as baffled as I am. “You could always just let me go?”

The woman sighs. “The boss says it’s not an option anymore. But don’t worry. If you keep cooperating, you won’t be in any danger. Either of you,” she adds, looking at Cardan.

“Good to know,” Cardan says. “Although I’m not sure why I should trust the promise of a person who kidnapped and drugged us.”

Her lip twitches. “Fair enough,” she says, and then she closes the door and locks it.

We both exhale our relief. Cardan sits back down in his corner, takes a large swig of water, then screws on the cap and rolls the bottle across the floor to me. “Good thinking,” he says. “One, because it would suck to have to pee on the floor, but two because now we have a sense of where we are.”

“Yeah,” I said, only half-paying attention. I unscrew the bottle cap and take a sip of cool, clean water. Then I lower my voice. “I think I have a plan. But…”

Cardan sits forward. “But?”

“I don’t know if it’ll get you out.”

He frowns, but somehow doesn’t sound surprised when he just says, “Oh.”

“Haven’t you noticed? They’re only scared of you. They only train the gun on you. They don’t think of me…” I shrug one shoulder. “Well, at all, but definitely not as a threat. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. As far as they know, I chose the wrong boy to kiss on a beach.”

“Yeah.” Cardan rubs a hand over his face. “Yeah, okay. So I’m the big, bad alpha… and the decoy, while you slip under the radar. And then I get to follow you, maybe. If we’re lucky.”

I am surprised to find that I feel a little bad for him. A few hours ago, I would have been fine leaving him to rot, but then we spoke more words to each other than we have maybe in our entire lives, and now I’m not so sure. I say, “You probably get to follow me, it’s just not a guarantee. But I still think it’s worth trying.”

“Anything is,” he says, surprising me. “You know why?”

“Why?”

“They’re not wearing masks.”

I stare at him for a moment, then dread pools at the bottom of my stomach, a cold egg someone’s cracked open in my chest. “Either they’re consummate professionals who’ve managed to wipe themselves from every database, or…”

“Or we’re not supposed to be around to tell anyone what we’ve seen.” Cardan’s mouth presses into a thin line, grimmer and more serious than I’ve ever seen him.

“Okay,” I say, trying to ignore my heartbeat as it speeds up. “Okay, let’s—okay. So we make our plan and carry it out. That’s what we do.”

“We carry out our plan,” he says, a gloomy echo, “or die trying.”

Silence falls over the room like a blanket of snow, but I take a flamethrower to it by asking, “Really?”

“What?”

“Being dramatic doesn’t help. We have to focus on getting out of here. So.” I wave my hand. “Stop that. No one’s going to kill you, except maybe me if you keep getting on my nerves.”

He looks at me, his eyes darker now, in the unlit basement, than they were even last night on the beach. “Who’s going to stop them from killing us? You? A little omega girl who doesn’t know when to quit?”

“I’m not little,” I snap. God, why is he like this? “And yeah, it’s a good thing I don’t know when to quit, because apparently that’s all that stands between you and suicidal sulking. So stop being so Shakespearean tragedy and help me.”

“I could never do theater,” Cardan muses aloud, letting his head fall back against the wall. “Wasn’t alpha enough for me, apparently.”

I frown at him. “Plenty of alphas do theater. Our school had a great theater program.” I would know—I volunteered as a stagehand enough times as a freshman and sophomore. It was something else to put on a college application, and I liked moving in the dark, not being seen but making everything run smoothly. But eventually I had to stop, too. Madoc never said outright that it was a waste of time, but…

“My brother didn’t like it,” Cardan says, like he’s finishing my thought. He picks at some loose plaster on the wall.

I end up just looking at him for a minute, mostly because I am shocked to hear him sound wistful. I didn’t know he was capable of it. “I think you would have been good,” I say, surprised to find I mean it. I mean, he has the looks, and he’s certainly proven to have a flair for the dramatic.

He turns his head to look back at me, and just like that we had zigzagged back from enemies, or rivals, or whatever we were, to allies. “I always thought so, too.”

---

“So,” Cardan says. “I stand in the door.”

“You do,” I affirm. “You make sure that whoever opens the door, all they see is you.”

“And you’ll be beside the door, out of sight,” he recites. “So you can grab them, disarm them, and pull them in.” He blinks at me. I’ve begun to notice the gold edging his near-black irises, the whole spectacle framed by dark eyelashes. I feel like if I look long enough, I might be able to pick out other colors in them. Eyes like black opals.

“Jude,” he says, like it’s the second time he’s said my name. “Earth to Duarte, hello. Can you actually do that?”

I blink too, shake out of it. “In theory.” I’ve only had to use what I’ve learned on martial arts mats or in boxing studios a few times outside of my lessons, and never on anyone actually armed. But I’m relatively small, so I’ve been taught specifically how to go against people stronger, taller, faster. And I’ve only ever frozen once.

“What if it’s two of them at the door?”

“It won’t be. It’s been one at the door, one at the table all day. You noticed too, right?”

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “So, the tricky part. You lock person one in the room, I go for whoever’s at the table.” He sneers. “‘Go for.’ Like, what, a linebacker?”

“Again, you’re an alpha.” I did not in my life ever think I would be giving Cardan a pep talk, much less this pep talk. “Use those reflexes.”

“My reflexes are rusty.”

“You’d better oil them fast.”

He exhales audibly. “Okay. So I grapple with—whoever’s at the table, under the hope that they’re surprised enough when their buddy gets grabbed that they’ll be slow getting out the gun. And if they do?”

“You’re too valuable to kill until they have your money.”

“They could wound me.”

I roll my eyes. “I could wound you. Suck it up.”

Cardan chuckles softly and touches his side like he’s already imagining bruises blossoming there. “Ouch.”

“You’ll only be without me for a few seconds,” I reassure him. “You draw focus, keep them on the ground, and then I’ll show up, hopefully armed. Then we’re good.”

“And if we’re not good, you just leave me. You just run.” He gives me a weirdly intense look. “Right? I’m the one they want, anyway.”

“It won’t come to that,” I say.

“But if it does.”

“Cardan.”

“I have concerns.”

I bite the inside of my cheek before I can tell him he’s an idiot if he doesn’t have concerns. “What are they?”

“The third man. I haven’t seen him since yesterday, and you haven’t seen him at all. We know what the other two are like, but you have no read on him and I don’t really trust mine.”

That is a good concern, although I’m loath to give Cardan any credit. It had crossed my mind too, along with the possibility that Cardan might have been too drowsy while he was coming out of his drugged haze and made a mistake. But even if he was in a stupor, it isn’t likely that he mistook a scarred man of medium height or a short woman for a tall man with no scars at all.

“Maybe he’s the ringleader,” I suggest. “He might have left once we were settled in.”

“Might have,” Cardan agrees, but he sounds unconvinced.

We pass the rest of the day like that, in our precarious truce. When one of us has an idea, we speak up, trade it back and forth for a while. And then silence again. It would be incredibly boring, and almost is without my phone, except that Cardan is right: this might be literally life or death.

Our captors let us out a few more times to use the bathroom. In the evening, they bring us cold, dry pre-packaged deli sandwiches from a supermarket and an extra pillow and blanket for Cardan, because I am on the mattress and there was only supposed to be one of us. Cardan just accepts the bedding and food, quiet for once. I know he’s wondering the same thing I am: whether they still mean to kill us, or whether we’re worth more alive.

When the light has totally vanished from our tiny window and we have both exhausted our store of potential plans, Cardan unties his shoes, props his pillow in the corner, and starts making himself as comfortable as possible on the floor.

“What are you doing?” I ask, before my brain catches up to my mouth.

“I think this is called ‘sleeping,’” he replies. “I thought everybody did it, but I guess with all those AP classes and mock trial and…”

I roll my eyes. “It’s a big enough mattress,” I say. “Just don’t touch me.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” I scoot to the side of the mattress, the one closer to the wall, and turn onto my side, away from the spot I’m vacating for him. “Before I change my mind.”

Cardan seems to realize I actually do mean it, so about half a second later I feel him crawl onto the mattress and flop down. And just as he’s groaning, “God, that is better,” even though the mattress is old and stained and doesn’t smell great, I realize I’ve made a gigantic mistake, because my body is a live wire and not even for the reason he’d think.

I glance over my shoulder at him, and although it’s hard to make out details in the dark, I can see that he is also on his side with his back to me, his midnight curls a stark contrast against the pillow. Breathe, I tell myself. For about five years, Cardan could not have been clearer that he does not want me in any conceivable way, and we’re not in the danger zone yet. There is no “safe” in our situation, but I am at least protected from that.

“I can feel you staring,” he says to the empty air.

Startled, I almost bite down on my own tongue. I turn back around and curl my knees to my chest. I don’t want to ask. Asking would be the worst thing in the world. Asking would be admitting to fear, and naming fear gives it power.

But I am spared when Cardan says, unprompted, “I’m not going to try anything, Jesus.” The Don’t you know that? hangs unspoken in the air between us, because I should know it, seeing as he’s been telling me I stink for years. That while his kind ostensibly was made to dominate mine, my chemicals do not agree with his, and so he would never stoop to that level.

I get it. And sure, it stings to be unwanted, but not so much now, because I can sleep through the night with Cardan at my back and really, truly not worry about being prey. “Right,” I say. “Good. Because you’re the last person in the world I’d want that from, anyway.”

“Yes, you’ve made that clear.”

Never mind that he made it clear first. I burrow into my pillow as best I can. “Well, enjoy your uninterrupted sleep.”

I expect a smart remark from him, but there’s nothing but a sigh. Then, because I am listening carefully, I hear his breathing grow long and even, and I realize he actually has fallen asleep. He isn’t too nervous, too tense to be kept awake. I am both of those things, but also exhausted, so I guess I can understand that eventually, exhaustion has its way.

It’s weird that twenty-four hours ago he was one of the people I hated most in the world, someone who stood in for the system that had scorned me my whole life. He still might be, outside these walls. But for now he’s just a boy, sleeping at my back.

I close my eyes, and sleep too.

Next

#jurdan #judecardan #jude x cardan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #the cruel prince #the folk of the air #tfota #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #jurdan fanfic #mine: fic #fic: 132 hours

[bisou-doux]

The Starving Games ft. Freddie Weasel: AKA Pt. 1 of my Hunger Games x Harry Potter crossover series (OC x Fred Weasley)

Warnings (None of these are really graphic, but feel free not to read if any of these things make you uncomfortable!!): Blood, knives, knife wound, character death(s), severe injury mention (lost limbs), dead animal mention?? (a rat) 

This is the first fic I’ve ever written! I got the idea from a post I saw from @wand3ringr0s3 Comments and criticism are GREATLY appreciated and it’d be really cool to get some feedback on my writing style!! 

a/n: Also if I do write more, this is gonna be an enemies to allies to lovers situation bc I <3 angst 

Tagging my mutuals: @ourloveisforthelovely @darthwheezely @amrtxntia  @anchoeritic @kellsslut @whizboingies @beiahadid

Darkness. Pure black. I hear noises coming from somewhere. Muffled. Echoing through the endless void around me. The noises become louder. Someone is talking. The more I listen, the louder and clearer they get. Clear enough that I can almost make out the words. Suddenly, everything goes deafeningly quiet. My ears start ringing. But then, a single voice echoes through the silence, “Seph?”. I recognize it immediately. “Maeve?” I call out. “Seph? Is that you?” she responds, her voice shaky with fear. “Yes, yes, Maeve, it’s me. Where are you?”

“I don’t know.” she responds, panic rising in her voice. “Seph, I’m scared.”

“I know. I know, kiddo,” I swallow hard, “Hey. Hey, listen, I’m gonna find you, okay? Just stay calm.”

My heart is racing. I look around for some sort of clue, but nothing but complete darkness surrounds me. I tentatively reach my hand out in front of me. My fingertips graze something. Something cold. I take a step forward and reach out again. My hand finds what feels like a thin chain. I roll it around in my fingers before pulling down on it. The space is immediately flooded with blinding white light. I blink a few times to adjust my eyes to the sudden brightness. I’m at home; a tiny one room flat that I share with my mother, sister, and our cat. Except it’s empty- no furniture, not even a door. I see my sister standing a few feet in front of me, her hands bound together by a thick rope. “Maeve!” I rush towards her. “Seph!” she cries. As I reach out to hug her I’m pushed back by an invisible force. I look up and there she is- standing inside a giant glass dome. I take a few steps back, trying to register what I’m seeing.

“Shall we draw the names?” I whip my head around to see a woman in a magenta frock standing on the other side of the room. Her dress is covered in so many frills and flounces that she takes up half the flat. On her head is a ridiculous blonde wig that must add at least two feet to her height. Her face is covered entirely in white powder, with her cheeks overly rouged, and her top lip painted magenta to match the dress. She looks like a very posh clown.

“I-I’m sorry what?”

She laughs airily, “The names, darling. Surely you remembered?”

“Remember what?”

She tsked then pulled out two smaller versions of the glass dome from the frills at the front of her dress. They each had a small slip of paper in them. “Go on. Pick one.” Her voice was incredibly high-pitched, and she spoke with a capitol accent. I stepped towards her and hesitantly reached into the bowl in her right hand. I unfolded the slip of paper, ‘Maeve Whitlock’. I stared at the name in confusion.

“I don’t understand.”

“Will you take her fate as your own?”

“What do you mean? What fate?”

The woman let out another laugh, this one high and cold, it echoed around the entire room and caused the floor to shake. Suddenly, I heard Maeve call out to me, “SEPH!” I looked back to where she was in the dome. There was a dark, shadowy figure standing behind her, holding a knife to her neck. Her hands and feet were bound to a small wooden chair, and her mouth was now gagged with a dishcloth. I ran towards the dome, panic rising further in my chest. “MAEVE!” I shouted desperately. She looked at me fearfully, tears rolling slowly down her cheeks. I banged and kicked and rammed my body at the glass so hard, I should’ve shattered something. But it was no use. I looked back to where the woman had been standing, but she was gone. The shadowy figure stood still, holding the knife to my sister’s neck.

“LET GO OF HER YOU FREAK!” I cried, banging my fists against the dome. Maeve was panicking now, her chest rising and falling rapidly, tears running down her face, her muffled pleas penetrating through the glass. “MAEVE.” I cried out; my voice cracked as the salty tears streamed down my cheeks. But I was too late. The dark figure suddenly slashed the knife across her throat, her cries stopped and she slumped down into her seat, eyes still half open, blood now seeping into her blouse. “NO!” I screamed, sinking down to the ground. The glass squeaked as my hands dragged down over the exterior. I looked back up towards the shadowy figure, only to see it was no longer there. In its place I saw myself, a satisfied smile on my face. I heard the clownish woman’s disembodied laugh echo through the flat, “What a pity,” the voice said, “you could’ve saved her! But now, I’m afraid, you must face the consequences of your actions.” The clone slowly raised the hand still holding the knife, and pointed directly at me. Suddenly, I felt the cool touch of metal against my throat. The other me winked, and I felt the blade drag deep across my neck. I started to choke, the blood pooling into my airways. I instinctively brought my hand up to the wound. My vision started turning black around the edges. I looked down to see the front of my dress already soaked in red. The last thing I saw was my own hand, holding the knife, droplets of blood falling steadily from the tip of the blade. Then, everything went dark.

My eyes shot open. All I saw was fur, and something was blocking my breathing. I sat up quickly, and the ball of fluff leapt off my face. The cat looked up at me from his new place on my lap- those big amber eyes practically staring into my soul- and meowed loudly. I sighed in annoyance. “Stupid cat.” I grumbled as I lifted him up and let him jump to the floor. I rubbed my eyes and tried to slow my racing heartbeat. My body was covered in a sheen of cold sweat. I looked down at the bed to see my sister still sleeping soundly beside me. I took a deep, shaky breath and stroked the top of her head, moving away some of the stray hairs lying across her face. I glanced over at the digital clock next to me, SUNDAY: JULY 4. 8:26 AM. Today was Reaping Day; no wonder I had that horrible nightmare. This would be my 4th year participating in the drawing, it was Maeve’s first. How unlucky it was that her twelfth birthday had only been three days prior. If she’d just been born a few days later, she could’ve been spared for another year.

I sighed and swung my legs over the side of the bed. My mother was already awake, sewing some buttons back onto Maeve’s school shirt. “Hi, mom.”

“Hi, sweetie. Did you just wake up?”

“Yeah, just now.” I yawned.

“Is Maeve still asleep?”

“Yeah.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost 8:30. Should I wake her up?”

“No, it’s okay,” she sighed, “let her sleep some more. I’ll wake her up soon.” She held up the shirt to examine her work, “Still needs a few more stitches…” She held the needle between her teeth and reached down to her sewing basket to grab another spool of thread. I looked down as I felt the cat’s bushy tail brush past my ankles. I knelt down and scratched behind his ears.

“Did you feed Tulip yet?” I asked. The fluffy, tricolor, flat-faced cat was now sitting at my feet, purring contentedly.

“Didn’t have to; he caught his own breakfast. A huge rat, which he so lovingly dropped on my pillow this morning.” My mother replied.

I stifled a laugh.

“Since you’re already up, go ahead and shower. I’ve laid out your clothes for you on the kitchen table, so when you’re done, just change into them and come back here so I can do your hair. Okay?”

“Okay.”

She smiled at me then went back to her work. I grabbed some soap and a clean towel from the small shelf near the entrance and walked out. “Make sure you don’t use up all the hot water!” she called out as I closed the door behind me. “Don’t worry, I won’t!”.

We didn’t have our own bathroom- there was one toilet and one shower per floor, which could be shared by anywhere from 5 to 20 people. There were 5 apartments on each of the 4 floors- all one room- with one bed, a stove, a sink, a small table and chairs, and some shelves for storage. Each apartment had a heater and air conditioner, but they were never guaranteed to work when you needed them. Sometimes only one side of the building would have heating, or only certain floors had AC, or only specific apartments. Often, the whole building wouldn’t have either for days at a time. The same thing happened with the water and electricity. You could never fully rely on any of the appliances being in working order. As a result, we shared a lot with other apartments. If someone’s stove wasn’t working, they could just knock on a neighbor’s door and use theirs. If only one apartment on our floor had heating during the winter, there were no objections when everyone else would come over and make themselves at home. It made it feel like we were all one family, and it was customary to refer to many of your neighbors as your aunt or uncle. This was common throughout the District, as almost everyone aside from the mayor and peacekeepers lived in small, rundown tenements, expanding outwards from the city center, which was home to the Justice building. Here, in District 8, we produce textiles. There are 6 factories in total; one of which is entirely dedicated to making peacekeeper uniforms. We typically start in the factories at 14, splitting the day between school and work. We aren’t assigned specific jobs until we turn 18. Until then, those in charge of production make requests for certain numbers of workers, and we go wherever we’re needed. Once we finish school, we’re assigned permanent job positions based on both our aptitude tests and our performances in various factory tasks. The better you do on the aptitude test, the better (or at least safer) your job will be. Those with the highest scores tend to be assigned as desk jockeys- where the risk of dying on the job is fairly low. Those with the lowest scores are sent to work in the most dangerous parts of the factories; you can always tell who works there because chances are, they’ve lost some part of their limbs...or face...or they’re, you know, missing a hand...Then there’s those whose scores fall somewhere in the middle; if they have a specific skill, like baking, or perhaps healing, they’re assigned a job based on that. The rest are assigned mid-level factory jobs, which were still dangerous, but the chances of getting to keep all your fingers were significantly higher! (But not guaranteed).

When I turned on the shower, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the water was delightfully warm. It took everything in me not to keep standing there, enjoying the warmth, until the water would turn cold. I shivered as I stepped out of the shower and quickly wrapped my towel around me. I walked swiftly down the hall and flung open the door to the apartment. I grabbed my outfit from the kitchen table. A white trapeze-line dress ending an inch or so above my knees, long billowy sleeves pulled tight at the wrists, and a mock turtleneck with tiny ruffles adorning the edge. My shoes sat on the floor next to it; dark blue suede ankle-boots with small square heels.They were a birthday present from my mother; most definitely from the black market. I got dressed and pulled up a stool in front of my mother’s chair. She combed through my curls as gently as she could, but I still winced when she pulled too hard at a knot. She braided four small plaits at the front and sides of my hair, pulling them into two larger braids that she twisted together and pinned to the back of my head. She handed me the mirror. I looked into it and smiled, “It’s beautiful. Thank you.” I turned around and hugged her tightly. She smelled of soap and clean linen, and something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on- all I knew was that it was comforting and warm. I held on a little longer than usual. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling her scent. She brought her hand up and gently stroked the back of my head. We both knew what could happen today...I tried my best not to think about it. Maeve soon came back from the shower and changed into a mod-style purple dress and black mary janes. My mother braided her hair in a similar style to mine, adding a small flower clip at the side. She looked us once over, nodded, then stood at the mirror and added a few pins to secure her own hairstyle. She sighed, “Ready?”

“Yeah.” “Yeah.” my sister and I said in unison.

My mother chuckled lightly as we stepped through the threshold.

We walked the few blocks over to the underground and boarded the train headed to the Justice building. The train car was packed. Everyone was dressed in their best (and most colorful) outfit. These types of clothes were only worn on special occasions; those above working age wore grey coveralls to work and school, and something drab and ill-fitting otherwise. As we exited the train car, I kept a tight grip on Maeve’s hand. As we emerged from the underground, our eyes were bombarded with light, and I squinted as the brightness flooded my vision. When my eyes adjusted, I spotted the registration table. I gave my mother a brief hug and went to join the girls’ line with Maeve. Soon, we’d reached the front. I looked down at Maeve, “You want me to go first, kiddo?”

She glanced up at me with wide eyes, then stared forward and shook her head. 

“You sure?”

“Mhmm. I just wanna get it over with.”

“Okay.” I hunched over and whispered into her ear, “You’re gonna be fine, I promise. It’s not as bad as you think. I’ll see you in a few minutes, yeah?”

She nodded. I gave her hand a squeeze and watched her walk up to the table. I heard them speaking faintly and a few minutes later, she turned around to look at me, a nervous expression on her face. I gave her a reassuring nod then headed over there myself. 

The woman at the table sat there with a bored expression. She looked to be in her 30’s, but the heavy dark circles under her eyes seemed to age her quite a few years.

“Last name?” She said. She didn’t bother to look up at me. 

“Whitlock.”

“Whitlock…” she muttered, flipping through the pages, “Right, Whitlock. Persephone?” 

“Yeah.” 

She crossed my name off the list. “You’re sixteen?”

“Yes.” 

“Okay,” she sighed, “Hold out your hand, please.” She took a small device next to her and clipped it onto my index finger. I winced when I felt the needle prick my skin. She unclipped the device then stamped my wrist with the capitol’s sigil. 

“You can go join your age group, fourth line from the left.”

“Thanks,” I muttered.

She paused, then looked up at me sympathetically, “And um, good luck.”

I nodded and gave her a curt smile before heading over to join my peers. We were arranged by age and gender, boys and girls separate, all standing in rows in front of the stage. I stood waiting, and mindlessly watched the rows slowly multiply. I didn’t know how much time had passed, but soon enough, I looked up at the stage to see a woman in a bright magenta pantsuit. The hem of her skirt was decorated with a flounce of fabric, and she wore a light pink blouse underneath her suit jacket. The front of it contained so many ruffles, you could hardly see her neck. Her hair was pale blonde, and styled in a way that made it look like a cloud sitting on top of her head. Her face was powdered white, save for her blushed cheeks and glossy lipstick. Her lips were absurdly over lined, both painted a shocking fuchsia that closely matched her outfit. She approached the podium with tiny steps and cleared her throat daintily, “Welcome, everyone, to the reaping ceremony for the 59th annual Hunger Games!” People remained silent; the only reaction being a cough from someone in the crowd. She cleared her throat once more, “As always, we shall begin by watching a special film from the capitol, telling us the history and origins of this unique tradition, and to remind us why we are all standing here today.”

At her words, the two televisions turned on to display the Capitol’s sigil. It faded out, and a film about the glorious history of Panem started rolling. I tuned out and stared blankly at the rows of people ahead of me. When the film concluded, Ms. magenta up at the podium clapped enthusiastically. She was the only one. “Oh, wasn’t that wonderful?” She exclaimed, “What a rich history this nation has.” 

I scoffed, that’s one way to put it, I thought. 

“Now, as always- ladies first.” She stuck her hand into the large glass bowl on the right side of the podium and shuffled her hand through the slips of paper before snatching one up. She gingerly unfolded the paper and held it delicately between her index finger and thumb. 

She cleared her throat and read out the name, “Maeve Whitlock.”

I felt my heart stop in my chest.

No. 

My eyes darted through the crowd and I saw people make way for her as she slowly walked to the stage, shaking with every step. Images from my dream flashed through my mind- most poignantly, the image of me watching helplessly, as a dark shadowy figure slashed a knife across my sister’s throat. Panic rose in my chest; my heart beat so loudly in my ears that I barely heard myself shout, “WAIT!” Everyone turned to look at me. My breathing sped up as I suddenly felt at a loss for air, “I volunteer.” I added, my voice cracking slightly, “I volunteer as tribute.” Maeve looked back at me with pleading eyes and shook her head furiously. I avoided her gaze and stared straight ahead as the crowd parted to allow me through to the stage. I paused to grab Maeve’s hand and squeeze it tightly. I cradled the back of her head and planted a kiss atop her forehead. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment as I shakily released her from my grasp and allowed the other girls in the crowd to place a comforting hand on her shoulders as they quietly pulled her away from me. I walked up to the stage and slowly climbed the short flight of steps to then take my place just behind the glass bowl from which my sister’s name was drawn. I can’t believe I’m about to be shepherded to my untimely death because of a stupid glass bowl. I felt my hands getting clammy, and I held to the hem of my dress to keep them from shaking. Ms. Magenta smiled and stepped towards me, “And what is your name, dear?”

“Persephone Whitlock.” I stated.

“And you are…?”

“Her sister.”

“Her sister! Oh, well, of course you are!” she remarked, “Well, that was a very brave thing you just did, Persephone. I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say that this was a truly inspiring moment! Well done! And may the odds be ever in your favor.” she smiled brightly and turned towards the crowd. There were a few measly claps, but they quickly fell silent. “And now, let us draw our male tribute.” She stepped over to the glass bowl on her left and repeated the process. I stared blankly past the rows of people; only when she read the name was my trance broken, “Frederick Weasley.” A tall, redheaded boy emerged from the crowd. I stared as he made his way up to the podium. I recognized him from school. I didn’t know him well, but I knew he had a twin brother- George, I think- who’d lost an ear in a factory accident a few years prior, and was thus ineligible to compete in the Games, as his injury would be an unfair advantage to the other tributes. Apparently, he’d been checking the cogs underneath a broken machine when it somehow turned on and cut his left ear clean off. It was formally reported as an accident, but it’s been rumored that he did it on purpose. There were no witnesses, so no one can say for sure, but if it was intentional, I can’t say I blame him for doing it. There are very few ways you can get out of the games if you’re under 18- something as extreme as losing an ear would certainly fall under that category. I stared at the redhead as he took his place behind the other glass bowl. He was tall, at least 6 foot 4, and seemed to tower over my own 5 foot 10 frame. I’d always thought I was fairly tall for my age, and was used to surpassing most adults in height; but standing next to him, I felt like a child. His entire body was long and lean, but I could tell from the way his shirt clung to him that he was not just skin and bone. He had a well-structured face. Round brown eyes, thin lips, a prominent, romanesque nose; his jaw was clenched as he stared straight ahead and refused to look at me. Him and his brother were known for pulling pranks and cracking jokes at school- there was a strange, impish quality to his features that unintentionally revealed his penchant for mischief. Every inch of his cool, pale skin was covered in freckles. Despite his pallid complexion, his cheeks always seemed to have a slight blush to them that made everything about him appear bright and lively. However, at the present moment, his face had been drained of all colour, save for a rather sickly green tinge. No wonder he doesn’t want to look at me- poor kid looks like he’s about to puke. Ms. Magenta finally stepped forward, “Excellent! We now have our two lovely tributes! Both of whom will now be escorted into the Justice building to await further instructions; Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!” And with that, the Capitol’s sigil was once again displayed on the TVs, and its anthem blasted through the speakers. Suddenly, I felt four hands grab me by the arms and forcefully pull me backwards. I stumbled slightly, and looked up to see the two peacekeepers responsible. They continued to pull me across the stage before practically shoving me down the stairs and onto the cobblestone street. From the corner of my eye, I could see that my fellow tribute was receiving the same gentle treatment as they dragged- I’m sorry, escorted him- to the large, looming structure behind us. As they “escorted” me towards the building’s heavy brass doors, I looked back frantically, trying to spot my mother and sister. But the crowd had gotten rowdier, and they were all being jammed together as the peacekeepers continued to push them away from the stage. My breathing quickened, and I could feel the blood pumping through every vein in my body. When we reached the threshold, the brass doors opened to reveal a high-ceilinged marble hall, and a rush of cool air escaped them. So THIS is where all our air-conditioning goes, I thought to myself. Every sound echoed through the building’s marble interior. I craned my neck upwards and tried to take in every opulent detail as I was dragged down a hallway and shoved into a small room, where the peacekeepers finally released me from their vice grip. “Wait here,” one of them said. They both left and shut the door behind them. I massaged my sore upper arms. “You didn’t have to pull me so hard, you know!” I shouted at the door, “not like I was planning on going anywhere!”. I sighed and stepped back from the door. “Assholes,” I muttered to myself. I plopped down onto a green velvet armchair and examined my surroundings. The walls and ceilings were paneled in rich, mahogany wood. The square panels above me were covered in intricate carvings, complementing the elaborate crystal chandelier hanging in the center. While I assumed the floor was wood, it was hard to tell because of the heavy oriental rugs that adorned its surface. There were two large windows behind me, both framed by plush velvet curtains. They were the same emerald green as the chair, and were tied back with a thick, gold rope that had tassels on the end of it, so as to allow in natural light. There was not much furniture in the room aside from two armchairs- one of which I already occupied- a round, wooden coffee table between them, and two empty bookshelves inlaid in the wall on either side of the room. A thin blue vase containing a single white rose sat in the center of the coffee table. The smell of it was unnaturally overpowering. Something about it made me uneasy, so I carefully pushed it to the far side of the table and shifted away from it. I unconsciously started chewing on my lip. I couldn’t sit still. Sitting there shaking my leg, or playing with the hem of my dress, wasn’t helping. I let out a frustrated groan and jolted up from my seat. I continued to chew my lip as I restlessly paced back and forth across the room. The heavy rugs didn’t hide the creaking of the floorboards as I stomped across them. After what felt like hours, I heard the door creak open. I stopped in my tracks and ran to the door to greet my mother before she’d even entered the room. Her and my sister enveloped me in a bone-crushing hug which I eagerly returned. The peacekeeper standing behind them cleared his throat. We slowly let go of each other and turned to face him. “You have ten minutes to say goodbye- not a second more.” he said in a gruff voice. As my mother and sister stepped fully into the room, the peacekeeper roughly shut the door behind them and left. 

END OF PART ONE

a/n: If you’ve made it this far,  1. Hi, I love you 2. Will I write more for this series? To quote John Mulaney, “Who’s to say?”. 

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