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hartigays · 3 years

Note

I’m laughing thinking about Ward going through the 5 stages of grief after learning Rafe has a boyfriend

ward cameron when rafe tells him he’s a raging homosexual:

fic under the cut!!

the dinner table is silent, save for the noises of forks and knives clinking against porcelain.

rafe stares down at his steak, mouth watering but refusing to eat it. he has plans later, after all, and steak is not kind to his bowels, despite how delicious it may be going down.

his bowels do not need to be in a twist for what’s in store for him later.

barry would probably murder him in the front yard of his trailer - it has been a week since they’ve been able to see each other, after all. and as barry had so eloquently put it on the phone earlier, rafe needs to be prepared to be “taken down to pound town, back around, and down again”.

not like anyone at the table needs to know this, but rafe imagines he’ll get questions soon enough about his lack of enthusiasm towards his meal.

almost as if she could read his mind, rose fixes rafe with a calculating look and asks, “rafe, why aren’t you eating? that’s a perfectly good steak, i don’t want it going to waste.”

going to waste, rafe thinks with an internal snort. everything in this house goes to waste - it’s just part of living on figure eight. everything is disposable, everything is replaceable.

“rafe, eat your steak,” ward insists with a sigh, not looking up from his plate. “i’m not in the mood tonight.”

in the mood for what, rafe has no idea. ward is acting like rafe is a fussy 4-year-old who he has to constantly battle with to eat his peas, when in reality ward couldn’t give less of a shit about what rafe does or says or eats on a daily basis, so long as it’s not making the family look bad.

the thought alone has rafe gritting his teeth, glaring across the table at his sorry excuse for a father.

“i’m not hungry,” rafe lies, folding his arms across his chest.

ward sighs again, like this 2-second conversation has pained him greatly, still not looking up. “i’m not arguing with you, rafe. eat the damn steak or leave the table. no one is in the mood for your sulking.”

rafe makes a face, then rolls his eyes. “i’m not sulking. but whatever, i have to be somewhere anyway.”

he scoots his chair back, ignoring sarah eyeing him warily from the seat adjacent to his.

“be somewhere? it’s almost nine,” rose questions. she raises her brows at rafe expectantly.

rose is looking at him like the stern stepmother she pretends to be, acting like she actually gives a shit where rafe is going, when the question was really only asked to ensure that whatever rafe is doing, it won’t reflect poorly on everyone else.

never mind that rafe is nearly 20 years old and can go wherever he pleases. he’s also gotten sick of this notion that every move he makes will somehow make them all look bad and tear the family apart. despite the fact that sarah is the one who’s openly dating a pogue, one who’s basically a walking red flag.

barry may live on the cut, but at least he doesn’t brand himself the king of pogueland.

rafe narrows his eyes at rose before making a split-second decision.

“well, my boyfriend gets off work late, so yeah. i have somewhere to be at nine,” rafe says offhandedly, like it’s no big deal, like everyone already knew he was a massive fruit who’s been on his knees for his local coke dealer for the past six months.

the sounds of silverware clattering onto plates fills the room, and rafe feels ridiculously satisfied with himself for getting a reaction. he loves to see these idiots squirm.

he’d rather see them all choke on rat poison, but barry is insistent that he won’t continue fucking rafe if he goes off and kills his whole family.

barry is lucky rafe loves him, because honestly, not being allowed to murder people who irritate him is kind of a buzzkill.

“you- who- your what?” ward sputters, the first to break the heavy silence.

“my boyfriend,” rafe repeats slowly, enunciating, treating ward like he’s the stupid, petulant child he constantly claims rafe is.

rafe watches ward’s face go from pale, to pink, to violently red. there’s a set to his jaw and rafe just knows ward would give anything to leap across the table and wring rafe’s neck right this very moment.

“no, nope, absolutely not,” ward snaps, furious in his denial. “not my son. no.”

“ward- ” rose starts, but ward cuts her off with a swift wave of his hand.

“do you realize how this will look for us if anyone finds out?” ward spits, holding his fork in a white-knuckle grip.

sarah actually speaks up on rafe’s behalf, which is probably the most shocking reaction rafe has gotten so far.

“dad, come on. it’s 2021,” she says with a sigh, shaking her head. “besides, rafe being gay is probably one of the only good things about him. or, wait, are you bi? or gay?”

sarah questions rafe casually, like this information doesn’t come as any kind of shock to her. rafe makes a mental note to revisit that later, along with her comment about it being one of his only good traits. she’s looking at him almost in earnest, and for a brief moment rafe is transported back to a time when he actually liked his sister.

“not that it’s any of your business,” rafe starts, glancing at her, “but i’m gay. thanks for asking. anyway, like i said, i have somewhere to be, so- ”

“not a big deal?” ward hisses, cutting him off, clearly still stuck on sarah’s surprising defense of rafe’s sexuality. “not a big deal? sarah, it’s- no, see? no. we aren’t talking about this.”

Despite his own declaration, Ward continues, “what about all those girls? all those girls you hung around with? the ones you brought around? you know you can still have them over from time to time. i know we talked about respect and responsibility, but i suppose a man does need to let loose every now and then, and if it’ll help- ”

this time, rafe is the one to cut ward off, not in the mood for his pathetic attempt at bargaining.

“dad. dad. i’m gay,” rafe says firmly. “forget about the girls. it wasn’t what you thought.”

ward opens and closes his mouth several times, trying to form some sort of coherent response. then, he buries his face in his hands, groaning.

“why is it always something with you, rafe?” ward mumbles through his hands, sounding defeated. “can we not just have one day? one day without your life overshadowing everything we’ve worked towards?”

rafe rolls his eyes at ward’s dramatics. “how does me liking dick ruin anything for this family?”

“rafe, wheezie is right here!” rose admonishes. wheezie just chokes on her water, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

“sorry, wheeze,” rafe tells her, feeling only a little bad. “but i’m just saying. half the guys on figure eight go both ways. it’s seriously not a big deal.”

ward finally looks up at rafe, crossing his arms before staring for a long stretch. long enough that rafe starts to turn to go, itching to get away and back to the one person who doesn’t make him want to rip his hair out.

“fine,” ward finally says just as rafe turns on his heel. “fine. but don’t- don’t expect me to meet him. or like him. and for the love of god, don’t bring him to important events. whoever he is, he’s bound to draw attention.”

that’s very, very true. and rafe has every intention of dragging barry to the next auction or gala or what the fuck ever, clad in one of his stupid sleeveless t-shirts and basketball shorts and his hair in a messy, tangled bun - the whole nine yards.

he’s dying to see the look on ward’s face when he shows up to some black-tie event with barry the cocaine king slash dirty mechanic slash army vet in tow.

“so is that it?” rafe asks, sounding bored even to his own ears. “can i go now?”

ward still looks like he wants to slam his head through the nearest window, but he nods. accepting the truth that rafe has forcibly laid out before him, albeit reluctantly.

rafe nods back, turning and walking away with his hands stuffed in his pockets, whistling a tune that’s far too cheerful given the looks on everyone’s faces as he exits the dining room.

his favorite is ward’s, still looking angry and defeated and resigned to his acceptance of rafe’s preferences all at once. rafe hops onto his motorbike, yanking on his helmet with a smile.

barry will be proud of him, he thinks. not only did he finally come out to his family, but he also didn’t feed them rat poison during the process.

baby steps. he’s taking them one at a time, very carefully, and he thinks that’s something at least.

maybe barry will reward him for his efforts, rafe wonders, just before revving his bike to life and speeding off the property.

rafe deserves a reward, in his own personal opinion. and after all, his opinion is the only one that matters, really.

maybe barry’s, too, but only when it suits rafe. if that happens to be more often than rafe would care to admit, well. that’s between him and Jesus.

the night air is cool as it whips around him, and rafe looks forward to the warmth of barry and his shitty little trailer, not sparing a single thought about the mess he just left in his wake.

rafe presses harder on the gas, heading towards home.

#rafebarry #outer banks #i hope this along the lines of what u were wanting nonnie!!#thank u for the req mwah 💋#my fics #ask #anon

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sanris3 · 3 years

Text

A fine line

Pairing: reader x san Genre: friends to lovers(?)/angst Summary: You realize you're in love with your best friend San and unsure how to approach it. Playing with the thin line between friends and lovers. author notes: This is my first piece in a while, I hope everyone enjoys it! in a silly goofy mood at 5am Word Count: 1.6k

The both of you definitely started off on the wrong note. When you and San were first introduced to each other, it was difficult to get close to him. He radiated this intimidating aura and with your shy self, there was no way you'd approach someone like him. You had mutuals through a couple friend groups, it was only natural that you'd end up friends. However, there had been a misunderstanding through a mutual friend and you never thought to clear the air.. because after all, you weren't in a position to fight for the friendship anyway. The both of you left it as it is. Fast forward to 2 years later and the two of you are closer than ever. There was a stark difference between your personalities, hobbies, hell- even the way you both processed things were different. But oddly enough, you guys make it work. You were the epitome of 'opposites attract.' You'd never expect that a toxic relationship would deem you two as inseparable. San struggled a lot and you were there for him whenever he needed a shoulder to lean on. No one understood him but you oddly did. Looking at his situation, you found yourself looking in the mirror recognizing you had been in his position just a year ago. You desired to be there for him. You were reminded of the turbulent moments and unexplainable behaviors that took place- and unknowingly, you began to prioritize him. Not in a romantic way- more so, just ensuring San is doing okay because after all, he is your best friend. All you could think about were the empty moments you experienced when you went through the same thing, you didn't want him to believe no one understood him, because you did. How delightful would it have been if you had someone like this to root for you back then? San allowed himself to become comfortable with you. Sharing each vulnerable thought was a common conversation you two had and honestly- it was fascinating to learn how aware he was about his emotions because all this time, you believed he was emotionally constipated. Even after being friends for so long, the conversations you had never reached the depth that they did now. This was a sign he genuinely acknowledged you to be his closest friend. You'll never overlook the excitement you experienced at the realization he trusts you at his most vulnerable moments. It was happiness. This is what it feels like to have a friendship reciprocated. Vulnerable. Stable. Consistent. Several months go by and that relationship ends. You adhere to his side until the end, making sure he's completely taken care of; and even though it's challenging, you walk him through the emotions, keeping him together at his roughest moments. You had become his pillar. And that's exactly what you did, until, he suddenly cut off contact with you. You understood his heartbreak. He needed time to heal, but that time apart managed to lead through the most confusing part of your friendship. You missed him terribly but what could you do? He needed his space and you respected that. You hear from him for the first time for what feels like forever and you notice something is off. There's something about his aura that shifted- and you couldn't figure it out. Both of you are nervous to talk to each other after the sudden break but as always, you get through it and pick up on the flow once again. But this time it's different. There was a new feeling of awareness in your stomach when you got a notif from him- and for so long, you assured yourself it was because you missed him. Which was true. (at least for now.) There were many instances where you wanted to reach out and invade his space but that would only harm your friendship, and that was the furthest thing you desired to do. But you couldn't help yourself, you grew anxious that he would disappear on you again and started attaching yourself to him a different way and it was a scary feeling because you knew where this would lead to. "She was my person. It was rocky but I've never loved anyone so hard," he says amidst another vulnerable conversation. You try to bring him comfort by wrapping your arms

around him, gently pulling him in for a hug as he sobs again for the night. Your hands rub against his back, gently finding a pace. You feel his grasp on you tighten, hands clinging to you like you'll slip away. But you stay there, bringing him all the comfort he needs, he was still healing. There was that feeling again. Like always, you brushed it aside and never dared to ponder upon it. For the first time, your heart sinks when he's talking about her. It's a good day for both of you. Throughout your hangout you're able to pick up conversations like before, San is starting to smile again and joke a lot more often, the bright San you knew was returning and you were genuinely happy for him. "I knew you'd turn out okay, if I did, you would. It just took some time." you blurt out in the middle of silence as the two of you are watching a movie. He stops in his tracks to turn towards you, "Thank you." His lips curve up into a warm smile with his arms reaching out, unexpectedly pulling you into his arms. "You know, I'm sorry for disappearing. You've been nothing but good to me through everything. I'm grateful to have you around, I promise I'll return everything." You go along with it, loosely wrapping your arms around his frame. "It's okay." You answer with a pause before continuing. "I missed you a lot." "I did too."

There it is again. That feeling. As time went by, it was growing difficult to ignore the little jump in your heart seeing anything of him. A text? A call? Hanging out? Your wavering heart couldn't ignore. The overwhelming feeling was too much for you to handle so that day you ignore San for your sake. You took the day off to think about your feelings for the first time. Why him? Why now? It was hard to understand the sudden change in heart. You pondered over and over again if this was true. Overthinking leads one thing to another and the next thing you know, you're on your bed crying endlessly in the sheets. Out of all people, your feelings were stirred up by Choi San. For the next few months, it was a brutal game of push and pull. Not between you and San, but you and yourself. Slowly, you were filled with frustrations no one but him had answers to, it was driving you insane; One moment you would see San as a friend, then it would be more than that. The friendly gestures you were recieving from him were transforming to a different meaning in your heart. The pet names, the random compliments, the sporadic oversharing- oh you wished that it would stop. But a part of you knew you were acting like this due to the fact you were hyper aware of your feelings.

At one point you wondered what it would be like to feel his lips against yours. It was a confusing cycle you couldn't stand to seperate from him. How bad could it be if you started and ended things on your note? But if you revealed your heart, what if it backfired? There was a chance you'd lose your best friend and it was too risky to cross that line. You were desperate enough to go on dates, and of course, San encouraged you through all of them. There was a clear answer to your questions but the little hope you had in you, kept praying. Just maybe. You wanted San to feel the same way. Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, or you were tired of stringing yourself along- so you initiated the conversation about dating again. Of course, you were extremely careful with how you apporached the situation; One mess up and it'll change the dynamic of your bond forever. You thought about what would happen far ahead. Sure he accepts your feelings and there's might be connection but what if you guys aren't compatiable as lovers? would the both of you have the courage to love like you haven't been hurt? "San- Can I ask you for advice on something? Or not really advice.. but your input." The brunette gears his attention towards you fully, emmitting the same flustering feeling in your stomach. But you don't react physically.

"Is it something serious?" "Yeah sort of-" "Is this another joke you're play-" "I'm serious!" "Okay, what's up?" "what do you think about dating a friend?-" "what?" "just answer the question." "I'm scared it'll happen again." " yeah same, I get you." The both of you return to the movie, carrying on like the conversation didn't happen. The air turned thick. At one point the comfortable silence grew suffocation. Did he catch on or are you thinking too much? For the first time you realized how dangerous that fine line between friends and lovers were. In the end, you didn't want him to take responsibility for your actions. Why should San suffer because of your feelings? that was the last thing you wanted. Sure, you won't be able to kiss him and hug him, or feel his embrace in a much more intimate way- but he was by your side and that mattered. With that, you were happy and content. Even if his heart wasn't yours. "San?" "Yeah?" "I'm really grateful you're my best friend." "I could say the same."

#san scenarios #san angst #ateez scenarios #ateez angst #choi san #ateez x reader #san fic #san smut #ateez smut

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anxiousnerdwritings · 3 years

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yess can you please write yan headcanons for archie!!!

Yandere Archie Andrews Headcanons

Archie is completely obsessive and extremely delusional. He’s very sweet and warm in the beginning but as his obsession progresses so do the lengths he’s willing to go to keep you by his side. He loves and cares for you so much that is physically hurts him to be anywhere but with you.

The relationship can be suffocating. He can be suffocating. But Archie can’t help it he just wants to smother in his love and appreciation. You’re bound to want some kind of space or at least room to breath. You may start pulling away from him, abounding his touches or whenever he tries to cling to you. You love him, you do, but you need a break too. Archie will try to understand and give you what you need cause that’s what a good boyfriend does but he doesn’t like it one bit.

Stalking is a crucial element in Archie’s obsession. He needs to know what you’re doing and who you’re talking to when you’re not with him. You probably have no idea that he’s been stalking you before you even knew his name but he knew everything about you. He won’t stalk you as much once the two of you are in a relationship because he’s always by your side. But once you do start pulling away he’ll step up the stalking again, only this time he’s more determined then ever to keep an eye on you.

Archie was content enough to leave things be in his daily life when the two of you were dating but once that came into question he had to take an initiative. by the next day he’ll have his class schedule completely changed to match yours. He’s in all your classes and he’s even sitting right next to or behind you in every single on. That wouldn’t be too creepy if it weren’t for his constant staring. You can feel his eyes burning themselves into your back or the side of your head and you could have sworn all the seats in the proximity of you were taken.

Your phone will blow up with constant calls and texts. He’ll even write you letters, leaving them in your locker, your car, your house. He’ll leave them wherever he knows you’ll find him. He wants you to talk to him, he needs you to. He needs the reassurance that the two of you aren’t over with, that it’s only temporary. His calls, texts, voicemails and letters will get progressively concerning and frightening very quickly. He’s unraveling and all he knows is you. He doesn’t know what to do without, he’s completely lost.

You’ll notice that something is off with him fairly quickly, he’s just not the same. You’re not sure what it is but it’s concerning. The look in his eye isn’t that same warm and loving one it was before, it’s something darker and primal than you have ever seen before. Archie will withdraw from everyone around him, closing himself off. It gets to the point where Veronica, Betty and Jughead are asking you to take him back or at least talk to him. They’re worried and now so are you. But this is all a ploy to get you to come back to him, whether Veronica, Betty and Jughead are in on it who knows.

Any consideration of interacting with Archie go out the window when you catch him more than once parked outside your house. Sometimes he stays sitting in his car and other times he’s standing outside of it staring up into your window. There was a time where that was cute and or romantic but things aren’t the same anymore. If Archie is really trying to get you back then he’s not doing a good job. He’s pushing you further away. The two of you aren’t even really broken up, you just want some room to breath without him breathing down your neck.

Archie is fairly good at keeping his true intentions under wraps. People only see him being upset because that’s what he wants them to see. He thought maybe you’d feel guilty enough to come back to him and then the two of you could act like nothing ever happened but you weren’t playing along. He may be able to keep himself composed but not for too long, he’s becoming unhinged and he’s only going to be all the more unpredictable.

He’s not going to let you go. The first time he laid eyes on you you were his and he was yours. Anyone who even mentions your name or that you’re single now, Archie will fight them. He’s throwing punches and he’s aiming to do some damage. There won’t be anyone to hold him back either. He could never bring himself to hurt you, not intentionally but he can hurt other people just fine, especially if they’re meddling in your relationship.

There will be more disappearances to hit Riverdale then ever before. Everyone is on guard, so are you. At first it all seems surreal but eventually it really sets in for you and you’re scared. But Veronica, Betty and Jughead are all there for you and so is Archie. It’ll all be okay, he’s here now and he’s not going to let anything happen to you, never. He’ll stay by your side to ensure your safety. But little does everyone know Archie he’s been the one behind all the disappearances and murders. It was all for you, to get close to you again and rekindle your guys’ relationship.

If you do ever try to leave him again he will breakdown. He’ll get down on his knees and beg you not to walk away. He’s crying, holding onto like you’re a life line and you are. You’re his everything and he’s not living without you.He’s a good actor too and you’re bound to fall for those tear stained puppy dog eyes but again it’s all just a show put on to keep you with him. He loves you, you’re his world and he’s not going to walk this earth without you. And he’ll make damn sure that never happens. You’re his endgame after all.

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alfredosauce50 · 3 years

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whenever youre free, can you write yandere 2p china headcanons? im just thinking abt him 👉🏽👈🏽

Yandere 2p! China headcanons

Getting together with you was hard enough. But now that you’re his, he can’t go back to being a second choice he’s always been. He’s never letting you go.

Zao doesn’t have a single yandere characteristic by default, but when he does, ooh boy. It’ll take some time for him to deviate from his normal personality and mental stability, but given enough paranoia and infatuation, he will start losing his sanity, then, his ability to distinguish between right and wrong. And the terrifying thing is, he doesn’t even know it. By this logic, he is by far, the craziest yandere you’ll ever have the misfortune of encountering.

(There isn’t a lot of fanart on 2p! China so have this fanart of Wei Wuxian for visual purposes)

Home life

He’s very into kissing, so much that he’ll sneak some in while doing the most mundane things. When he talks to you, he will hold your waist and fill the brief moments of silence with kisses. In his eyes, having his lips on yours while a conversation happens is being ‘productive’ as he makes the most out of being with you. Before anything escalates, which ends up happening more often than you’d prefer, you’ll pull away and clamp a hand over his mouth. He’ll lick your hand and laugh at your reaction.

He bathes with you. He could’ve gone with the more economical option of showering, but he’s far from broke. And plus, he can do so much more while sitting down. You usually stay on the opposite end of the tub, but he’ll pull you onto his lap and whisper this in your ear, “Don’t be shy, kitten. This is your throne.” As you sink into his embrace, which ends up hotter than the water you’re submerged in, he will caress your back and make out with you. Once you’re pleading for air, he will pull away and trail a tongue up your neck instead. When you’re with him, he never actually lets you catch your breath, ever.

Zao is very mindful of your comfort. Perhaps not when it comes to something sexual, per se, but he will always bring you a blanket if it gets a little chilly. If you forget to put socks on, he will put them on for you without asking. Whenever you go out, he will bring a bag with him and most of the things inside are either yours or for you.

Spoiling you is a given. He can’t imagine a better way to put his hustle to good use--to give you things you want. Even if you don’t ask for anything, he never fails to get you something you end up loving. But there is one thing he won’t ever let you touch. Substances. Zao is so overprotective in all aspects of your life, he doesn’t even like you drinking. He’s a little more lenient on weed, and will let you have a few puffs of his joint.

He always covers up at home, and will get a little flustered if you catch him indecent. Zao doesn’t wear a lot to bed, like tank tops and underwear, so he isn’t shirtless very often. The only time he doesn’t get embarrassed is when the mood is... You know. And he’s doing you-know-what with you. Otherwise, he will call you a pervert, but really, he’s teasing you more than expressing embarrassment. Because clearly, that’s rich coming from him.

Yeah. It’s not news how big of a pervert he is. Nor is he ashamed of it. Any dirty thought that crosses his mind, he will never fail to relay to you. It leaves you mortified when he tells you what he wants to do to you, in detail, especially when he isn’t being self-aware. Save that for when you get home, you idiot! But the private sphere only makes him even worse.

He calms down at night, thankfully, and lays in bed with you on his chest. This is where his love language starts speaking to you. Connecting to you emotionally and mentally is how he shows he loves you. This takes place in long, deep, and random conversations, and if not, he will just captivate you in his dark eyes and stare at you endearingly. “What are you thinking about, kitten? I hope it’s something related to me~” Then, he’ll dig his hands through your hair and massage your head as he breathes you in until he gets intoxicated with you.

When he gets jealous

He’s the type to get so jealous, it becomes suffocating for him--especially when he doesn’t outwardly show it. So whenever anyone remotely shows interest in you, he’ll keep his cool for the most part, but will get very irritable and clingy. It doesn’t matter how subtle they were, it could’ve been a single glance, even, but alarms will go off. He will pull you into a tight embrace and bury his face in your neck until they leave. You don’t really mind because he isn’t giving anybody trouble, but you do find it cute when he immediately returns to his soft side afterwards.

Zao isn’t the biggest fan of conflict, even if he’s more than capable of it. Instead, he will gravitate towards his intelligence and cunning to outdo anybody he hates. Stalking is definitely on the table if he needs to get to know someone, then, when it comes down to it, sabotage. He will do anything to keep them busy so they wouldn’t have to see you. And he succeeds every time without you finding out.

Unlike most SO’s, it’s easier for him to get jealous over friends than love interests. He values the emotional aspect of your relationship with him the most, and gets very upset if you bond with people other than him, platonically or not. To make up for it, he demands your attention and ensures the time you spend with him is two times more fulfilling than whoever it was you were with. This is the fundamental reason why he’s more susceptible to getting jealous--literally anybody is a rival in his eyes.

This is all the more reason to be so much more paranoid and restless than other typical yanderes.

When you argue

He doesn’t agree with you on a lot of things, so it’s like talking to a brick wall. Objective subjects are easy to get through when it’s straight up facts, but if the topic is about what he can or cannot do in the relationship, save your breath. You will never get through to him. When he feels entitled to something, he takes his own side, regardless of what you feel about it.

Nevertheless, he will do the bare-minimum of leaving you alone in the meantime when you’re upset. That’s how he somehow respects this boundary he just crossed. But a few hours later, he will go back to normal, which means he will be affectionate even when you’re not in the mood. This cues the second phase of the fight. While you’re trying your damndest to push him away, he will corner you, physically and mentally.

While he hugs you tight, he will force you to look at him while you cry. It’s invasive and suffocating, but the night always ends with you making up with him. Be it kissing or other means. It’s unfair, but no matter what he does, you can’t help giving in to him. And he knows this very well. That’s why he keeps doing it.

Psychology + When he snaps

He is much more intelligent than he lets on. Even though he already knows you like the back of his hand, he studies you every day. If you asked him what you were thinking about, he could probably guess it. That’s what makes him such an intense lover. You can’t hide anything from him if you tried. Hence, he has a terrifying amount of control in the relationship, and he will use it to his advantage.

Zao is a good multitasker. He can juggle his ‘job’ and hobbies while keeping you in the palm of his hand. There is absolutely nothing you can do without him finding out, and this is precisely how he keeps himself miles ahead of you.

As everything progresses, he will tolerate less and less. His love language is how much quality time he gets with you, along with emotional connection. Eventually, he will start ruling out the prospect of you having any of these things with anyone besides him. That includes friends, so he will start isolating you from them, all until the only soul you are truly close to is him. Soon, you will have to rely on him for everything, which he absolutely loves. He will make himself the only person in your life.

As this continues, he will become obsessed with the idea of your co-dependency on him. Zao always loved looking after you, but he isn’t satisfied with that anymore. Being your own person? Hell no. Every single thing you do, he will be in the backdrop. If not, he will be next to you, and start influencing your own thoughts until you can’t even trust yourself.

At this point, he is manipulating you to accept everything he does. And he succeeds a lot of the time, especially when he’s so unfazed. You start wondering if you should be this unfazed, even when what he’s doing is wrong.

If one of your friends tries to intervene, he will make sure they won’t see the light of day ever again. He has a lot of connections, and combined with how cunning he is, he can get them to disappear with the snap of his fingers. He will keep doing this until every single person in your life is gone if he has to.

Zao acts purely on his own desires. It’s his moral compass. Right and wrong will blur together so long as it’s for you, and there’s nothing he won’t do. Murder is as casual of a topic to discuss and do as having breakfast.

A lot of psychopaths would at least get the thrill of doing something so heinous, but he won’t give a shit. He won’t bat an eye. He won’t feel the smallest shred of remorse and carry on like nothing happened. But what he will feel is satisfaction.

If you find out what he did

You can cry all you like. He’ll only feel remotely guilty because you’re heartbroken, but it passes pretty quickly when he’s happy with what he’s done. You could try running away too. Try. But he always finds you. It doesn’t matter if you leave the country and go into hiding. He will follow you to the ends of Earth for the rest of his life. What can he say? He loves a good chase. It’s a fun game of cat and mouse he knows he’ll win.

Every time he finds you, he’ll sneak up to you from behind and whisper, “Are you done, now? Let’s go home already.” If you try to run away again, he’ll just catch you and hold you tight, even while you’re thrashing in his arms. “I can do this forever, kitten. You have nobody else to go to, and nowhere else to be. So don’t waste your energy and come back with me.”

Response to ask:

Of course :) I’m honored you submitted an ask to me after thinking about him 🤗 He’s definitely one of my favorites! Zao’s gotta be the most fleshed out 2p next to Allen. Since 2p’s aren’t canon, they rely solely on the fandom’s interpretation and ability to dish out content on them. I haven’t seen any proper yandere stuff on Zao, so I think this is a first. And boy, he’s a terrifying one for sure. I feel like he embodies the worst of the yandere trope because he’s into psychological manipulation. Worst isn’t the right word, actually. I believe ‘accurate’ is a better way of describing it. This is what a real yandere looks like.

#yandere #yandere headcanons #headcanons #hetalia #2ptalia #2p!china #2p china #2p china headcanons #Axis powers ヘタリア #axis powers hetalia #request #ask answered #hetalia fanfiction

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animeyanderelover · 3 years

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This will be the last basic Hc’s for Black Butler. But if you want to see basic Hc’s for a character from Black Butler I didn’t write about yet you can of course send a request in. Please enjoy!

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, delusions, paranoia, stalking, clinginess, manipulation, sabotage, gaslighting, isolation, blackmailing, bribing, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of killing

Yandere Black Butler Hc’s

Lau

🚢When I think of Lau I think of the manipulative type. His goofy side can trick everyone and the s/o is no exception. His way with words is also really interesting and he can wrap the darling pretty easily around his finger. Also a stalker, but not he is stalking you, it’s Ran Mao. She watches his s/o wherever they go.

🚢Also the obsessive type, he makes sure that Ran Mao finds out every single detail about his darling and reports it to him. He’s also very touchy, it’s even worse than with Ran Mao! His hands will always be on some part of the s/o’s body.

🚢He is most of the time very calm and composed and even when he is jealous he would never show it, still having his closed eyed smile on his face. But he would somehow interrupt whatever conversation the darling had with the other person and would somehow lure the s/o away from them. If someone really tested his limits than he’ll give Ran Mao a sign to pay this person later on a small visit.

🚢As mentioned above if someone pushes their luck with him he makes sure to send Ran Mao after them. This guy has clearly some propensities for violence and if someone really angered him enough he might even order Ran Mao to bring them to him alive so he can torture them a little bit too. But most of the time he lets Ran Mao do all of the dirty work.

🚢Lau will take his time with kidnapping the darling, trying at first to win their heart with his harmless act and if he success with that he won’t kidnap them. But if they start to avoid him, have interest in someone else or might be in danger then he tells Ran Mao to get them. After that there’s no chance for them to escape him anymore. He takes them wherever he goes to and now the s/o will always sit on his lap whilst Ran Mao stands beside them. If Lau isn’t out he locks them somewhere up and makes sure that Ran Mao watches them.

🚢You will never realize his sinister feelings for you until it’s too late and no one else will expect how insane this guy can really be. He’s awfully calm with you and no matter how much you scream and yell at him, the smile will never leave his face. Not the worst one I guess, if you have a wish just tell him and he’ll ensure that your wish will be granted as fast as possible.

Ran Mao

🌺Ran Mao is the stalker and obsessive type of Yandere. This girl makes sure to watch her darling from early morning ‘til late at night. She’s obsessed with her s/o’s every habit and movement and since she watches them at all times it won’t be hard to figure very much out about them. Might even steal the one or other thing from them just to have something that reminds her of them.

🌺Also a lovestruck type. The s/o is in her eyes a true beauty and whenever they mention that they want something, even if it’s meant as a joke, Ran Mao will immediately disappear and will only come back when she has what her darling asked for. Also the clingy type, this girl will always hold onto them as if her life depends on it.

🌺Ran Mao doesn’t show much facial expressions when somehow takes her darling’s attention away from her, but believe me on the inside she’s boiling and already planning how to eliminate that obstacle.

🌺Ran Mao is ready to kill everyone who comes too close to her darling for her taste or somehow possess a threat to them or their relationship with her. She’s a trained assassin and it’s a living nightmare for those she hunts down.

🌺She would only kidnap her darling under some extreme circumstances, the most likely scenario is when she confessed to them, but they rejected her for some reasons. That’s when Ran Mao takes them with her.

🌺Even though she kills for you she isn’t a bad Yandere to have. Her clinginess is sometimes just a bit suffocating, but overall a really caring and harmless one, at least to you. I can’t say the same about the people who dares to hurt you.

Angela Blanc

👼Angela is a delusional and obsessive Yandere. In her eyes the s/o is the only pure person in London and in the whole world and that it’s her job to protect this pure soul. That makes her naturally obsessive with them, feeling the huge need to find out everything about her darling, about what exactly makes them so pure.

👼Also very manipulative with the darling, talking them into avoiding people and spending more time with her, trying to keep them away from “unclean” humans. She’ll also guilt trip them, acting like a submissive woman who just wants the best for the s/o. She is also a worshipper, the purity of her darling is everything for her.

👼Her jealousy is a bit different than from others. I think from both of her angel sides she’s more maniac about the whole purify thing what makes her more than paranoid when other people spend time with her darling, tainting them with their filthy presence. She can’t and won’t accept that!

👼As mentioned above she’s terribly paranoid with her darling and sees everyone as a threat for her s/o’s purity and makes sure to wipe every dirty human who dares to even look at the s/o out.

👼Her paranoia and desire to keep her darling clean will lead her to kidnapping her darling very soon. She just wants to keep them safe from all this awful dirty humans. Her darling will surely understand that, right?

👼She would never lay a hand on her darling because she would never hurt such a clean human. But she’s still a terrifying Yandere to have. You’ll never see a human in your life again and her speeches about how she’ll keep you safe and how she’ll purify this dirty city are in my opinion enough to give you some ugly nightmares at night. Who the hell said that having a guardian angel is a good thing?!

Pluto

🐺This guy is a demon hound and has some typical traits of his animal side in his Yandere traits. For example the possessive and clingy part. That’s not even a question, is it? This guy is incredibly territorial with his s/o and sooo clingy as well. It’s even worse than with Sebastian! This guy is literally glued to his darling’s hip.

🐺Also the lovestruck Yandere. Never in all of this posts I posted so far was the phrase being a lovesick puppy more fitting than in this. Pluto is the s/o’s obedient dog, ready to do everything they ask him to.

🐺His jealousy is terrible. His possessiveness and clingyness and the fact that he’s basically an animal makes this really bad. He doesn’t even has to see his darling with other people, as soon as he smells another person’s scent on them that isn’t his, he’s already “jealous”. When his darling is talking to other people this guy’s grip on their hip will tighten and he’ll growl dangerously at the other person. If that doesn’t work then be prepared for seeing something you wish you hadn’t.

🐺I already mentioned it above. This guy kills basically everyone that isn’t him if they don’t leave the s/o alone. As I said, if he senses another smell on you he’ll remember that smell later on to hunt that person down and rip them apart. He even kills someone when you’re with him and expects you to praise him after that! He’s confused when he smells the fear on the darling. He only protected them, didn’t he? I think from all the Black Butler characters he’s the most obvious about it since he often comes home covered in blood and with something pretty shocking in his mouth, bringing a “small gift” for his darling.

🐺His form of kidnapping is a bit different. Most of the time he’s okay with clinging onto his darling’s grip, but if Pluto senses another smell on them that isn’t his or if he thinks they are in danger he’ll transform into his demon hound form and run to a cave in the forest. He keeps you there and only lets you out after you’re covered in his scent again or until he made sure to erase whatever had endangered the s/o’s safety.

🐺He’s one of the worse ones simply because in his eyes he does nothing wrong and because he’s so horribly obvious with it all. No chance that you can escape him, he has your scent burned into his memory and if you don’t want to be chased by a demon hound who burns everything in his way down don’t even try it! This guy would find you even if you would travel to the ends of the world.

Prince Soma

🍛Oh god! This guy is together with Finny one of the most delusional ones, mixed together with the clingy and lovestruck type. The thought that you might not even see him the way he does doesn’t even cross his mind. Arguments are useless because it’ll go into his one ear and will go out the other ear. Privat space? What’s that? He doesn’t leave the s/o alone and is so weak for them. Soma spoiles his darling to the rotten.

🍛Also a worshipper. For him the s/o is his god/goddess that he has to worship. He’s also very touchstarved and wants always some kind of physical contact with the s/o.

🍛It’s almost too easy to make this guy jealous. He’s a really spoiled brat and as soon as he notices that the s/o looks at someone else he’ll throw a tantrum, yelling at the other person who took his darling’s attention away from him. Honestly, it’s so childish and embarrassing. And this happens at least five times a day!

🍛Soma doesn’t kill people. He relies more on Agni and his high position. For goddess sake he’s a prince! Most of the time Agni is enough to scare anyone away from his darling. But if he sees how someone tries to take them away from him or harms them in any way then this person will get first of all beaten up by Agni and then Soma will ruin their lifes with his power.

🍛He never sees it as kidnapping. He thinks of it more as finally being able to keep his darling safe and spoil and love them like the prince/princess they are.

🍛Would never hurt you, but his delusions are the problem here. There’s absolutely no chance that you’ll ever be able to convince him that you don’t love him, he’ll just brush it off as you wanting more attention from him which he happily gives you. Try to see it from the positive side, at least this guy will grant you whatever wish you could possibly have.

Agni

🤜Agni is in my opinion the aware type of Yandere. Even though it took a while for him to develop such strong feelings the moment he had them was the moment he knew that they weren’t normal. I can see him as the overprotective one as well. He had not the most prettiest past and that makes him naturally more protective over the s/o.

🤜Also the lovestruck one. For this guy his darling is like the sun, the moon, the stars. Prince Soma might have given him a new life, but the s/o gave him a reason, a meaning to this life.

🤜Agni feels bad for feeling this way and has already much patience, he needs it to not go crazy with Soma. So he can hold on for a good amount of time. It takes a lot to make him jealous, but I think even then he wouldn’t do anything about it. He chooses to suffer silently.

🤜As mentioned he feels bad for feeling this way and is shown as a very calm individual so he’ll try to not kill, it brings back memories of his past. But he has a breaking point and if that point is crossed it will get ugly. If his darling gets seriously hurt he’ll start seeing red.

🤜He would only kidnap you if something really bad happened for example you getting seriously hurt. That would be the breaking point for this guy. He’ll take his darling to make sure that something like this will never happen again. Agni is the type to apologize for all of this, feeling terrible for not being there to protect them and feeling bad for kidnapping them. Then why did you do it?!

🤜Overall one of the better ones. He knows that his behavior is wrong, always listens to your complaints and considering them and making sure to take care of all your needs. He’s even ready to take you out, but promise him to stay close to him!

Ash Landers

▫️Even though he and Angela are somehow the same person I decided to write a separate Hc for him since both of them are also somewhat different. But just like Angela he’s a delusional one, seeing in his darling the perfection he always wanted. Also possessive, he just found the most pure soul he has ever seen in his life, do you seriously expect him to let them go just like that?

▫️He’s the manipulative type, he already uses his manipulation on the queen to bring her to do what he wants and he’s ready to use manipulation on his darling as well to ensure that nothing can taint their clean soul. A pure worshipper, seeing the s/o as perfection itself.

▫️Similar to Angela he sees every other person as a threat that could dirty the s/o’s purity. That is his jealousy. But surprisingly I can also see him as someone who will feel sour when his darling tells him about how much they admire someone else. He wants to impress his darling and when they like someone else he’ll boil with jealousy.

▫️Just like Angela he’s ready to destroy every person who might taint your clean soul, but as mentioned above he also kills when you tell him that you like someone else, killing this person brutally because they dared to make a spot in your heart which he believes is only reserved for him. For him that’s an almost even worse crime than trying to dirty you!

▫️This one will kidnap his darling very fast because similar to Angela his desire to keep the s/o pure will get him paranoid, not that bad like Angela, but still. He’s also as mentioned the possessive type and hates when the darling is talking about someone else that isn’t him. Like this he can make sure that he’s the only one the s/o can think about.

▫️From both of the angel sides he’s the less worse one because he is a little bit less maniac about this whole purifying thing. But overall he’s still one of the worse ones from all. From both of his angel sides Ash is the one who’s more eager to fight which means he’s even more willing to kill and is more brutal than Angela. And just like Angela his speeches about how he’ll make sure to clean this world and how he’s going to protect you will give you some nasty nightmares.

Keinz Drocell

🪆Let’s give it a try with this guy. The first thing that comes to my mind is the manipulative type. Keinz is very insidious as shown when he lured Elizabeth into coming to him. The same counts for the s/o. He’ll lure them into coming willingly to him. Also possessive, he’s a puppet and normally doesn’t have emotions so if you give someone like him someone that lets him feel something you can be sure that he’s never going to let this person go.

🪆Also the obsessive and stalker kind. Something about his darling made him feel something and he decides to watch them secretly to find out what exactly makes his insides tingle whenever he thinks of them. He becomes quickly obsessed with everything they do every little thing that might have looked normal in the eyes of others is to him a masterpiece what gives him the traits of a worshipper as well. He sees the s/o as a masterpiece, one in a kind.

🪆I like to believe that his darling managed to spark some emotions in him and that’s the bad part. If someone who doesn’t normally have emotions feels something it’s going to feel intense for them. Same goes for Keinz. He normally doesn’t have emotions, but the darling changed that. For them he has emotions and whenever he sees them talking to someone else it feels like his whole body is on fire, he’s burning with jealousy.

🪆He killed already a lot of people for his master and has no problem with killing people for the s/o as well. As mentioned above if he feels something he feels it intense and even though he doesn’t understand this feeling he has whenever someone spends time with the darling he does know that he doesn’t like that feeling and the easiest way to make sure that he doesn’t need to endure this again in the future is to get rid of the source of this feelings.

🪆This guy will kidnap the s/o after watching them for a while. By then his feelings for the darling have grown too strong for him to endure any longer and he feels the desperate need to keep them with him. He isn’t really sure why he feels this burning desire, but he knows for sure that if he doesn’t do what his brain is screaming at him to do he might just go insane. As if he isn’t already.

🪆This guy is creepy. He often just sits there and stares at you for hours straight without even blinking and it’s very eerie when he turns his head 360 degrees around and doesn’t even realize that it gives you the chills. He likes to show you his little “collection” of puppets and often brings you along when he makes them. He also likes to give you a little show with them. The song he uses to control the puppets will hunt you in your deepest dreams. The only good thing is that he doesn’t want to turn you into a puppet as well!

Charles Grey

🤺Charles strikes me as the obsessive and manipulative Yandere. It is really not easy for this guy to become interested in someone so if someone actually manages to make him a Yandere for them than you can bet that this guy will feel excited and thrilled about it. Most of the time he feels a little bit bored, but not with the s/o. He wants to satisfy his curiosity about them. He’s also very manipulative with the darling and can be very mean with his words, but if he gets them to do what he wants to then he’s fine with it.

🤺I can also imagine him as the delusional and clingy one. He thinks of himself very highly and is overall a very arrogant and self confident guy what leads me to the belief that this guy thinks that he’s the only one, the perfect one for you! No one can love, treat, care and protect you better than he can! He’s very clingy what comes from his obsessive trait. When he’s near his darling he has the best chances to observe their actions and movements, getting to know them better like this. He also enjoys being near them.

🤺This guy gets paranoid whenever he sees the s/o looking at someone else. He’s the one they should look at! He’s the one who’s perfect for them! Even though he flips out on the inside he manages to look calm on the outside. I mentioned that he can be very cruel with his words, remember? He won’t use them on his darling, but on the other person, talking down on them with an almost disgusted look on his face, making the other person feel worthless.

🤺This guy definitely enjoys fighting a lot and he’s very paranoid when it comes to his darling. Both of this isn’t a very good mix so be glad that he needs to hold himself back most of the times because he’s one of the Queen’s butlers. He only kills someone when they spend too much time with the s/o or when he knows that they like his darling or his darling likes them. Then he’ll come over for a short “play”.

🤺This guy wants to kidnap you badly, but decides to try it at first in a smarter way. Charles has to hold a reputation after all. He asks your parents for your hand in marriage and it’s nearly impossible for your parents to say no to this. I mean, he’s rich and comes from a high position so who wouldn’t agree to this?! If that doesn’t work he’ll most likely blackmail the s/o, using his power to force them into an engagement.

🤺Soo arrogant and filled with himself, it’s frustrating with him! Of course he can be a gentleman if he wants to be and of course he spoils you, but this ego of this man is too much. He always expects you to tell him how good looking, great and talented he is and you aren’t allowed to even talk in a admiring way about another person that isn’t him!

Edward Midford

🎩In the Anime I didn’t see much of him, but I’ll give it a try. I think he’s an aware Yandere, knowing that his feelings aren’t supposed to be that strong. Also the lovestruck type, even though he doesn’t want to show it openly because it’s somehow embarrassing for him. He can’t let others know how much the s/o has him wrapped around their fingers.

🎩Also the overprotective and possessive one. He’s already very overprotective and possessive over his sister, but with his s/o it’s way worse. They’re just so precious to him and he can’t bear the thought of losing them.

🎩Possessive Yanderes are bound to get jealous very fast, but he tries to hold in for as long as he can. He doesn’t want others to see how unhealthy his feelings actually are and will watch his darling’s interaction with other people whilst gritting his teeth. But when his limits are crossed he’ll grab the s/o’s hand drag them quickly somewhere else where he can spend some time alone with them.

🎩Killing is a no to him even though he sometimes desperately wants to do it. But he can’t risk to ruin his and his family’s reputation or even worse ruining his good image his darling has from him. This guy comes from a rich family with a lot of influence and he’ll use that to put a lot on pressure on people who harmed his darling or tries to take them away from him.

🎩Similar to Charles he would try to set up an engagement between his darling and him. His family would support and try to convince the darling’s parents as well, knowing how fond Edward is of you. And there’s a more than likely chance that your parents will say yes because who wouldn’t say no to such a handsome and charming man? If that doesn’t work he’ll use manipulation, bribing other people into cornering the s/o or their parents into some tricky situations and then he suddenly steps in and helps them. He doesn’t like using such dirty ways to get to the darling, but it’s all for the s/o’s sake. He only wants to ensure that he can protect them.

🎩One of the better Yanderes from this list. He respects your wishes and is such a gentleman for you. He also spoils you here and there with small gifts and shows his tender side to you and only you.

#yandere black butler #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere lau #yandere ran mao #yandere angela #yandere angela blanc #yandere pluto #yandere keinz #yandere keinz drocell #yandere soma #yandere prince soma #yandere agni #yandere ash #yandere ash landers #yandere charles #yandere charles grey #yandere edward #yandere edward midford

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inkslingersworld · 3 years

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Zusammen: Part V

Hey people! Sorry about the hiatus, I just moved back to my hometown and things have been kind of hectic lately. Glad to be back to writing my Zusammen AU! In case you need to refresh your memory, links to the previous installments are at the bottom of the post. I’ve enjoyed all of Zusammen’s parts so far, but I had a particularly fun time writing this one. Have fun reading!

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Just as Gabriel had thought, Nathalie was furious when he told her about the situation with Adrien and his newfound interest in finding out about Emilie. Gabriel was certain that if he hadn’t sent Adrien out to spend time with Kagami, he would’ve heard everything.

“I can’t believe your behavior, Gabriel!” she cried exasperatedly, sounding very much like his mother.

Gabriel attempted to explain again. “Nathalie, you don’t understand! I had to make it seem like I was searching for Emilie, not hiding her!”

“And may I ask why?” Nathalie asked sourly.

Gabriel was struck speechless for a few seconds.

“Why?!” he repeated, a hint of mania in his voice. “Nathalie, you know damn well why! If I told Adrien what really happened, he would find out that I keep his mom in a glass coffin in a butterfly garden, and that I have a side gig as Hawk Moth!”

“Maybe it’s time he found out!”

“No, it’s not time he found out!” retorted Gabriel. “It’ll be time for Adrien to find out once I gain the Ladybug and Cat Miraculouses and bring Emilie back!”

“Gabriel, open your eyes!” urged Nathalie. “You’ve been Hawk Moth for four years, and you’re no closer to getting those Miraculouses than when you first started!”

“Are you doubting my abilities to ensure the return of my wife?” Gabriel said through gritted teeth.

“Maybe I am!” responded Nathalie defiantly.

Gabriel sighed. “Look - Adrien and I don’t have the most stable relationship to begin with, you know that. If he finds out I’m Hawk Moth, he may never speak to me again!”

“Give him your reasoning!” said Nathalie. “I’m sure if he knew why you started doing this, he’d understand!”

“That’s just it!” Gabriel shouted. “Adrien had too kind a heart for his own good! He’d never be able to justify threatening innocent people for the sake of one person, no matter who that one person was! He’s too... noble.”

“Well if that’s the case, you need to change your approach!” Nathalie said.

“How?!”

“I don’t know, find some other way to bring back Emilie!” she yelled.

“There is no other way to bring Emilie back!” Gabriel yelled in return.

“What about the Guardian?!”

“The Guardian is Ladybug!!”

“So?!”

“So, I don’t think she’d be too keen to buddy up with Paris’s tormentor all of a sudden!”

“Maybe if you explained your reasoning!!”

“SHE’D NEVER LISTEN!! AND IF SHE DID, IT WOULD JUST BE THE SAME ISSUE WITH EXPLAINING IT TO ADRIEN!!”

“What do you propose, then?!” asked Nathalie angrily.

“I propose we continue doing what we’ve always done!!” answered Gabriel, kicking one of the chairs in Nathalie’s office out of frustration.

“We can’t!” interjected Nathalie. “You’re getting nowhere and you’re alienating your son! I really wish you’d tell him yourself rather than let him find out by snooping around!”

“I told you, I’ve already destroyed all the evidence of Emilie’s disappearance being connected to me!” said Gabriel, his voice cracking.

“You can’t be sure of that!” said Nathalie. “You’ve slipped up before! I think you should be honest with Adrien and consider a different approach!”

“NO!” Gabriel screamed, his usually neat hair now frayed. “ADRIEN WILL STOP ME!! I WON’T LET ANYONE STOP ME!! NOT MY SON, NOT LADYBUG, NOT CHAT NOIR, NOT YOU!! I WILL BRING EMILIE BACK IF IT KILLS ME!! AND I WILL BRING HER BACK MY WAY!! I AM SICK OF YOUR SUGGESTIONS!! IF NOT FOR YOUR FOOLISH MOLLYCODDLING OVER ADRIEN BEING SAFE, I WOULD HAVE SUCCEEDED IN GETTING THE MIRACULOUSES BY NOW!! BRINGING EMILIE BACK IS THE ONLY WAY TO KEEP ADRIEN SAFE!! I - AM - DOING - ALL - THIS - FOR - HIM!!”

There was silence, only perpetrated by Gabriel’s heavy breathing. Nathalie’s eyes were wide and wet.

“You’re not doing this for Adrien,” she said softly. “You’re doing this for yourself.”

All of a sudden, Nathalie’s expression hardened into a glare - the same glare that Adrien had given Gabriel less than an hour earlier. Before Gabriel could say a word, Nathalie marched over to her desk, yanked open a drawer, snatched out a file of papers, and shut the drawer again before making her way back to Gabriel. She shoved the papers to his chest, giving him a death stare all the while.

“Nathalie, what are you doing?” Gabriel asked hoarsely.

“Gabriel Agreste,” said Nathalie, choking a bit on the words, “I hereby resign as your secretary.”

Gabriel scoffed. “Nathalie, you can’t be serious.”

As if seeing this as a challenge, Nathalie all but ripped off the Peacock Miraculous and announced, “Duusu, I renounce you.”

The kwami confused face transformed into one of shock before she disappeared. Gabriel’s hearbeat quickened - Nathalie wasn’t kidding.

“Don’t be stupid, Nathalie,” he said, trying to reason with the woman who, up until now, had been his assistant. “I need your help! I can’t do this without you!”

“I though that if not for my ‘foolish mollycoddling over Adrien being safe’, you would’ve succeeded in getting the Miraculouses by now,” said Nathalie acidly.

Gabriel sighed. “I’m sorry I said those things. I want you to stay.”

“Haven’t you listened to The Rolling Stones, Gabriel?” asked Nathalie. “You can’t always get what you want.”

Panic seeped its way into Gabriel’s mind as he watched Nathalie descend the steps towards the front entrance. She opened the door on the left, but turned back to him before walking through it. A few tears travelled down to her chin.

“I’ll consider coming back once sort out your life, your supervillain alter ego, your handling of Emilie’s current state, and your relationship with your son,” she called out shakily.

And with that, Nathalie Sancoeur departed Agreste Mansion.

Gabriel did not move - Nathalie was sure to return any second now, admitting to her idiocy of abandoning him and Adrien.

After ten minutes had passed, Gabriel still hadn’t lost hope - even if Nathalie wasn’t coming back because of him or Adrien, she’d left all her stuff there! Surely she’d at least come back for her stuff!

It took Gabriel Agreste half an hour of staring at his own front door to realize that Nathalie was never coming back.

He was alone.

Part 5 of my Zusammen AU!

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dreamsmp-au-ideas · 3 years

Text

Oh, that bit about Karl’s powers and XD’s company at the beginning of the overwatch timeline made the karlnapity brain go brrrrrrr, bro!! Very long post ahead!!!! And I know the chatfic is coming soon, and I totally understand if you wanna reserve the blog’s attention for that once it comes out because I am also extremely excited for it, so publish this whenever you want!! Also good luck with the title and summary!!

So like, it’s a few years after Overwatch fell, and Sapnap, Quackity, and Karl are more or less content! They feel for Sam and the other original members, they do, but Overwatch and the omnics honestly weren’t a very big part of their world. They all made it through the omnic crisis just fine, and now they’re just going about their lives in the relative peacetime. They’re even engaged, vague plans of a marriage someday cobbling together bit by bit, but they’re in no rush. They’re happy!

And then Karl finds out about this interesting experiment that’s looking into real, live, actual time travel. Like!! Karl was psyched enough when space travel started getting big again; he knows just about everything there is to know about Horizon One for someone who’s never been there. If time travel turns out to be real? Karl wants in, and he wants in now.

Sapnap and Quackity are half-convinced it’s a scam or a gimmick or something. Sure, they personally knew what amounted to a superhero team a few years ago, but there’s a difference between a small group of skilled fighters and literal time travel. Especially since it’s an XD-sponsored endeavor, Quackity is certain there’s some catch. If nothing else, it’s probably a way to waste a lot of people’s time and money to get XD some good press again.

But Karl is so excited to check it out, neither of them want to try particularly hard to shut him down. They decide they’ll keep an eye on it, obviously, just in case, but they wish Karl good luck and a good time. So he heads out with high hopes and a little suitcase, promising to call every night and to see them soon.

And for the first few days, it goes great! Karl does call them every day and talks for at least an hour about everything he’s learning about this theoretical time travel and how it’ll work: a ship called the Slipstream, which is supposed to use teleportation technology to travel between places in negative time, thus creating functional time travel. Sapnap and Quackity reserve their doubts, but Karl’s having the time of his life either way, and they’re glad to hear him so happy. Especially when he tells them that he gets to get in the ship and take it on a test flight tomorrow - not to try out the time travel yet, but just to make sure he knows how to fly it. Karl gets to fly a ship!! He’s gonna be an actual pilot!! He’s so excited!!!

Karl hangs up that night, clearly over the moon, and Sapnap and Quackity resolve themselves happily to at least four hours on the phone tomorrow night, hearing all about the flight and how it went and what Karl is looking forward to.

And the next night, the hour comes, and Sapnap and Quackity settle on the couch with snacks and drinks, ready for a good long listening session. They wait for the phone to ring. And wait. And wait.

After an hour, they reason that maybe the test flight took longer than expected. Maybe Karl is tired out from flying it. Maybe Karl got distracted. Maybe he forgot to charge his phone. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Either way, it’s not like they had agreed that he’d call at this specific time. So there’s no need to worry. They’re not worried.

Another hour passes. And then another, and another, and soon midnight finds Sapnap and Quackity, sitting in the kitchen with mugs of tea long since cooled, watching a phone that won’t ring. Looking up the experiment or the Slipstream doesn’t bring up any bad news, which sets them both a bit at ease; no news is good news, right? At least for now?

Uneasily, they decide to go to bed. Karl will have to have called or at least texted by morning, surely. And if not, they’ll call him, and then they’ll call the number they were given for questions about the experiment. There’s no reason to worry.

Despite having no reason to worry, when morning comes without word from Karl, Sapnap and Quackity worry. When they call Karl, it goes straight to voicemail. When they call the number for the experiment, it’s disconnected. When they look up the experiment and the Slipstream and XD in general, they notice what they hadn’t last night: not only is there no news, there’s no mention of the experiment. The website Karl had learned about the experiment from is gone. XD’s website makes no mention of time travel. Even with all of Quackity’s investigative power, as far as the world wide web is concerned, there has never been a ship or shuttle with the name Slipstream.

It’s like the whole project never existed at all, and Karl Jacobs along with it.

Thus begins Sapnap and Quackity’s investigation. They call anyone who will listen, telling them that Karl is missing and it’s almost certainly the fault of XD and his company and please please please help them find out what happened. They become the most annoying thorn in XD’s side in months, calling every division in every company several times over, demanding answers. At one point, they’re discreetly contacted and offered hush money if they just drop it, and Sapnap has never screamed so loud in his life as when he told them exactly what they could do with that money. Quackity immediately tries to follow up, tracing the offer to gather proof that something must have happened if they’re trying to cover it up, and only runs into a brick wall. XD is infuriatingly good at covering his tracks.

What finally marks the turning point in their investigation is XD’s most common underestimation: common human decency between strangers. Quackity and Sapnap are anonymously contacted by someone who was working in the experiment’s division and heard about their search, someone who has access to Slipstream plans and blueprints. Through them, Quackity and Sapnap learn that Karl vanished because he was pressured into activating the time travel function on his test flight, despite the fact that it wasn’t ready yet. They’re also given early blueprints for the Slipstream, which include some of the plans for the time travel mechanism.

It’s this mechanism that Sam is able to study and rework and reverse engineer, eventually leading to the development of the chronal accelerator, which should, in theory, bring Karl back.

And it had been a rough time for Quackity and Sapnap, spending nearly all of their free time trying to gather resources and to find the truth and then to help Sam however he needed. They’ve undergone their respective breakdowns, supporting each other through them: Sapnap kept Quackity from burying himself too deeply in his work and his research, getting him to sleep and eat regularly. In turn, Quackity made sure he was available for Sapnap to talk and vent to, redirecting his steadily burning fury to constructive outlets. They’ve settled into an uneasy but manageable rhythm of getting through the days, haunted though they are by the uncertainty of where Karl is and when (if) they’ll see him again. And with the invention of the chronal accelerator, they’re both struggling with just how much hope they can afford. If this doesn’t work - if they get so close to finally getting Karl back, only to fail… it’s not something they want to think about.

So when Sam calls them down to his workshop, saying that he thinks he has a working model to recover their fiance, they arrive hand-in-hand, Quackity guarded, Sapnap cautiously optimistic. They gather around the workbench, surrounding Sam’s invention, a mechanical-looking harness with a glowing, green-and-purple spiral at its heart. Sam looks to them, hovering one hand over the activation switch, waiting for their signal.

They share a glance. Sapnap squeezes Quackity’s hand, steady and secure. No matter what, it promises. No matter what, I’ll still be here. I’m with you.

They both nod to Sam, and he flips the switch.

The harness hums and crackles to life, its spiral glowing brighter and starting to spin. Sam stands at the ready, watching six different monitors to ensure nothing goes wrong. Sapnap and Quackity lean on each other, nearly holding their breath, eyes glued to the accelerator.

Slowly, a figure fizzles into existence. Half-transparent, arms curled close to their chest, they glance around the room, looking lost and unsure, until they meet eyes with Sapnap and Quackity. Then their eyes go wide, one hand rising to their mouth, hanging open in shock.

Sapnap? says the ghost of Karl Jacobs. Quackity?

And in the next second, the ghost comes back to life, lungs filling with air, color rushing to his cheeks, solidity returning to his form. And Karl gasps, coughs, leans forward with one hand clapped over the accelerator, and his gaze doesn’t leave his fiances for a second. He extends one shaking arm, reaching for his fiances with an open hand. The tension shatters.

Sapnap closes the distance in half a second, Quackity barely a breath behind. The fiances collapse against the table as the two of them all but tackle Karl. Because Karl is real, Karl is alive, Karl is here in front of them. The lingering doubts that have dogged their footsteps vanish. The fear in their hearts that three engagement rings would become two wedding rings dissolves. The aching absence they’ve felt between them for months melts away in tears and sobs and bone-crushing hugs, the three of them relishing the hard-regained closeness, pressing together as the weight of the world lifts from all of their shoulders.

They’re together again.

#dream smp #dream smp au #overwatch au #quackity #karl jacobs #sapnap #awesamdude #submission #an anon #oh god this is amazing #i love this so much #i'll cherish it forever #long post

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f0rever15elf · 3 years

Note

Hello! I hope the holidays treated you well! I haven’t dropped anything in your inbox in a while. I appreciate how lovely your responses are to them. If you have time, I have another one for you. You know how sometimes you meet people who just unsettle you? Like there is something off about them? How would the guys react in this situation if you come home scared or upset? I watched a little too much true crime docs this weekend and had a hard time sleeping. Thank you!

Hello dear! They did, I had a very good time! And I hope the same to you! I’m so glad you enjoy the responses, and I hope I can continue that trend!

Head Canon Masterlist

When You Come Home Shaken from and Encounter with Someone:

Whiskey: He’s immediately on high alert. “Darlin’? What happened? Are you hurt?” When you convince him that you’re not hurt, just shaken up, the questioning still continues. “Who was it? Did you know them? What did they look like? Did they follow you home?” When you’ve answered all your questions, and he’s certain you’re not hurt, that’s when he finally relaxes, pulling you against him and he doesn’t let go for a long, long time. It’s a tighter hug than you’re normally use to, and is that a little bit of trembling you feel? He hates the idea of anyone potentially hurting you, he can’t live that nightmare again, so for the next...long time, whenever you go out, he’s right there with you. If he can’t be, he makes sure one of the other agents can accompany you as well.

Javi: He’s used to creeps following him around in Colombia. When you’re in the DEA and end up in bed with Los Pepes, it’s bound to happen that you end up with a tail from time to time. When it’s you that they end up following...well...that ain’t gonna fly. Immediately when you come home shaken up, he’s got you wrapped in his arms as he murmurs sweet nothings to you, telling you how he’s going to keep you safe no matter what. He’s already devising a game plan in his head, parsing out what he can do to improve your safety as much as he can, knowing that he won’t always be around to protect you due to the nature of his work. Once you’ve calmed down and relaxed, he starts gently asking questions, trying to get an idea of who it is that followed you and startled you. After that night, he’s going to insist you come with him to work more often when you can. At least there he can keep an eye on you more, putting you both at ease.

Frankie: Frankie’s training kicks in here, and he stays super calm as he tries to calm you down. He double checks the front yard, making sure no one followed you all the way home before coming back inside and making a show of locking the front door. After that, he’s grabbing blankets to wrap around you, pulling you against him to soothe and comfort you. He’s not letting you go until he’s certain you’re alright. Once you convince him you’re ok, he’s going to be waiting on you hand and foot. A nice shower or bath to help wash everything away? He’ll add the bubbles you like too. Want something comforting to eat? He’s in the kitchen in a heart beat making whatever you’d like. Shoulders hurt from the tension? You bet your sweet behind he’s got you in front of him as he massages out the knots. Anything you need, just ask for and he’ll give it to you. Later that night, when he thinks you’re asleep, he pulls his hand gun out of the night stand, checking it over before he sets it within reach. Just as a precaution.

Ezra: Oh he’s heated, but he doesn’t let you see it. His little gemstone needs comfort so that is what they shall get. His reaction would be different depending on where you are. If y’all are out prospecting where the danger is very, very real, he won’t be sleeping for a few days, on high alert to make sure no individuals of ill repute have followed you back to your pod. He’ll also be making regular treks out to check the immediate area for any dangers. In between, he’s got you cradled to him as best he can with his one arm, telling you sweet stories in the lovely drawl to take your attention off your fear. If you’re home, his immediate reaction is to double check all the locks before taking your hand to lead you back to the bedroom where his thrower is before cuddling up with you in the bed where he can comfort you. There, he’ll tell you stories until you finally doze off to sleep against him. He doesn’t get much sleep that night, worrying about you, and for the next few days he’s hesitant to have you going out on your own anywhere.

Oberyn: Another who is absolutely furious. His is far more visible that Ezra, however. You know he’s fueled by a deep seated rage, and is known for outbursts at the drop of a hat, especially when someone he cares for his harmed or threatened. He’s going to check you over to make sure that physically you’re okay, then shower you with kisses and words of affection as he leads you to bed where he’s going to leave you with Ellaria to comfort you and ensure you’re safe before he heads out to find the one who unsettled you so. When he finally returns, it’s with the promise that you’ll never need to worry about him again, the problem has been settled. He doesn’t explain further, and you don’t ask, rather content to just sit in the comfort the prince provides you, knowing you’re safe in his arms.

Din: He’s quiet, more so than normal when you show up trembling and afraid. The Galaxy is not a nice place. It’s not safe, and he knows this, but he figured this planet would be safe enough to let you wander through the market on your own. He’s going to take you up to the cockpit and sit you in his chair before going and grabbing a blanket to wrap around you, asking what happened. Did anyone hurt you? Steal from you? Threaten you? He’s methodical in his questions, asking just enough to be able to recognize who his new, impromptu target is. When he feels like he’s calmed you down enough for the moment, he’ll rest the forehead of his helmet against your own forehead before leaving you with Grogu to go and “take care of something.” He comes back not too much later. He doesn’t say where he went or what he did as he hangs up the pulse rifle before coming back to you in the cockpit, handing you some sweet treat from the market before heading to the next destination.

Pero: How dare anyone scare you to the point where you come home so shaken. Someone will need to be taught a lesson. But he tends to you first, making sure you’re fed and comforted. Pero is a man of few words, but the things he says to comfort you, while succinct, are very sweet. Some are in English, while other are in Spanish. He knows you like the way his Spanish sounds, so he hopes that it helps to soothe you while he holds you in front of the fire. When you’re finally calmed and fed, he presses a kiss to the top of your head before standing and walking to where he keeps his swords. “Just to prove a point, preciosa,” he says when he sees the concern in your eyes. “I won’t hurt anyone. Much.” And then he’s gone, returning not long after with a satisfied look on his face. “It’s taken care of,” is all he says, before joining you by the fire again. it’s a few weeks before he lets you go off on your own again.

Max: He can smell that asshole on you, and it makes him so angry. The way you’re heart is racing, the way he can smell the adrenaline coursing through your veins. This will not do. He’s going to check you over for physical injuries before taking you to the bathroom and running you a bath with your favorite bath bomb or bubbles. He’ll leave a glass of your favorite wine and a parting kiss to your head before offering a quick “I’ll be right back.” In a blink, he’s gone. When he comes back just as the water is getting cold, he’s got a pizza in his hands and a very chipper smile on his face. He makes a cozy little blanket nest in front of the TV, insisting on a movie night with you to help you relax. Of course, he’s going to be all over you, and it borders on possessive. You notice he’s warmer than usual, indicative of a recent feeding, and you don’t need to be a top tier detective to realize that he went out for more than just the pizza after he ran your bath for you. Oh well, best not to think about it.

Maxwell: To be honest, out of all of the guys, Maxwell shows the most outright fear when you tell him what happened while you tremble in his arms. Especially if this happens after the events of the stone and he has very few resources to help protect you. Guilt is gonna eat at him for that, but he doesn’t let you know that. When you get home at first, he’s going to fret over you, much like a mother hen. “Are you hurt? Where? Did they touch you? Did they follow you? What do you need?” He’s going to spend the night pampering you and taking care of you, trying to keep you calm and reassuring himself along that way that you’re alright. The next day, he’s going to hand you a canister of pepper spray to keep with you. it’s not much, but it’ll help provide you both with a little peace of mind. He also considers making you his secretary for while he’s going around to meetings in an attempt to fix his reputation. At least that way he always knows where you are.

Marcus: FBI boyfriend is going to be the sweetest, most tender of people after this happens. You come home and he methodically checks you over for any injuries before spending the night doting on you, holding you, feeding you, comforting you in any way you could possibly want. He doesn’t bring up the events the whole night, focusing on keeping you calm and comfortable in an attempt to keep off any bad dreams this may cause. The next day, he insist you come with him to the office to get a report started, just as a precaution, even if you think it might be overkill. He really just wants you safe is all, and it’s honestly really sweet. After the event, he’s texting and calling you all the time to check on you and make sure you’re ok. it’s as much a comfort for you as it is for him.

#hcs #max phillips #maxwell lord #marcus pike #javier pena #oberyn martell #din djrain #pero tovar #ezra #agent whiskey #frankie morales #tw: food #tw: harassment #Anonymous

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emptysurface · 3 years

Note

A What-If fic where Taku and Maki survive. HTS canon-divergence from sometime mid Chapter 20. I There are some sections taken from HTS canon, I hope that’s ok!

Two days days later, tou-san still hadn’t woken up, but he was doing much better.

The medic had even been able to tell them he wouldn’t have any lasting after-effects, and that he would make a full recovery.

Ryota had been so relieved he’d actually looked like he’d cry.

After the medic had left, of course.

And then Kyo had had to run off to meet her team for training. But she felt much better about leaving Ryota now that he didn't have to worry about Kou as much, and after he'd gotten some much needed sleep and sustenance.

It didn’t stop her mind from whirling wildly, however.

“-seems to have worked up something of a slight resistance after all the years-”

“-already immune to a frankly staggering variety of poisons. She's worked on it for years, but if anyone not of her heritage would've tried the same, chances are they would have died painfully long ago.”

“Hey!” Taku jumped to his feet the moment he caught sight of her, Kisaki and Maki half a second behind. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Kyo smiled and ran up to them, sending Katsurou-sensei a smile, too. “I’m okay. Tou-san’s going to make a full recovery!” She beamed.

“Oh, that’s good,” Maki sighed, looking relieved.

“Yeah,” Kyo said again, this time a bit absentmindedly. She turned to Katsurou-sensei. “Sensei, other people may not be able to become immune to poison, but they can work towards a resistance, right?”

Katsurou-sensei hummed. “Yes,” he finally said, “not to the point of immunity like you or your mother, but more of a resistance than they would normally.”

Maki eyed her warily. “You’re not gonna poison us, are you?

Kyo sent him an apologetic look before she said softly, “Tou-san was poisoned.”

Kisaki whined, pressing her weight into her side, and Kyo flashed her a brief smile before explaining. “Ryota-oji said that it may have been because Tou-san had built up something of a resistance, due to being with Kaa-san for so many years.”

Taku stared at her for a moment, an unreadable look on his face, before he looked to the side and scoffed. “This is gonna suck, but whatever.” He flashed her a crooked smile, and Kyo beamed back at him.

Maku sighed, but he was looking at both of them fondly. “At least I won’t have to worry about accidental poisoning anymore,” he said.

The three of them turned to look up at Katsurou-sensei, who eyed them amusedly. “This won’t be easy.”

“Easy’s for losers,” Taku shot back immediately.

“Very well then,” Katsurou-sensei said. “I won’t be making any allowances for you, and training will go on as usual.”

“Even when we’re poisoned?” asked Maki, looking a bit worried.

“Yes,” Katsurou-sensei said. “It’ll let you have a feel of how different poisons affect you, and how to push past the effects if needed in a controlled environment.”

Maki went pale.

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” Kyo offered him, voice low.

“N-no,” Maki said after a pause, looking determined. “I’ll do it. It’ll be an advantage people won’t be expecting, and well-” He shot her a look out of the corner of his eye. “-if nothing else, it makes you feel better, right?”

Kyo sent him a surprised look, before smiling ruefully. Maki grinned back at her, then turned to Katsurou-sensei. “Bring it on, sensei!” he shouted.

“Yeah!” Taku picked up immediately. “We can take on anything!”

Kisaki barked in agreement.

Katsurou-sensei raised a brow. “Brats,” he said amusedly. “Very well. We’ll start with the first dose tomorrow. Now, let’s see how well you can do at the shinobi version of Hide and Seek.”

--------

For a long few seconds, Kyo remained standing, tense and ready for the next part of the fight. The next opponent.

Her breath was harsh, ribcage aching with how much it was expanding with every breath and she could feel her blood rush through her veins.

When she realised there were no other opponents, no one else trying to kill her, the muscles in Kyo's legs momentarily liquefied.

Staggering to the side, she hunched over in an attempt to catch her breath, thoughtlessly sheathing her kunai at the same time to avoid cutting herself.

Katsurou stumbling into the closest tree had her jumping straight back into full alertness.

“Sensei?” Kyo wasn't sure how she got to his side so quickly when it felt like her legs were threatening to fall off, but she did. “Are you okay?” She asked, voice breaking.

“Kisaki?” He asked, and he sounded winded, like every breath was a struggle.

She'd never heard him like that before.

“Alive,” Kyo answered immediately.

At least... the ninken had been alive last she saw.

Blinking, Kyo looked around and quickly found the large, white dog.

She'd crawled from her kill to Taku and was lying huddled next to him on the ground. She was whining, deep in her throat.

Kisaki was crying.

But she was nudging his lax hand with her snout and muttering something too softly for Kyo to hear, so Kyo stumbled over to them then fell against a tree before sliding down. She pressed trembling fingers to Taku’s throat. What seemed like forever later, she’d begun to lose hope when she managed to feel it.

A pulse.

“He’s alive,” she pressed out, nearly sobbing. “Taku’s alive.”

“Maki?” Katsurou-sensei asked next, leaning heavily on the tree he was using as support.

She sent him a quick look to confirm he wasn’t going to fall over, then quickly went over to Maki, half stumbling and half crawling, her heart in her throat as she hoped and –

There.

A pulse.

“He’s alive too,” she sobbed out, feeling like crumbling in relief.

Katsurou-sensei breathed out a sigh, and then there was silence and a soft thud. Kyo turned over sharply to see him on the ground, slumped over and seemly unconscious. She half-crawled over to him quickly, checking for a pulse and-

“Sensei? Sensei, you’re bleeding.”

Her hands on him didn’t even stir him and it-it should have. She may have been his genin student and perhaps he felt a measure of trust towards them, but this was enemy territory, and Kyo didn’t know what to do.

“Sensei. Katsurou!” A shake of his shoulders got her open eyes. “Sensei?”

Katsurou-sensei looked at her blankly before he blinked laboriously, as if trying to come to a conclusion too far out of his reach. “Kyo? What-” He paused and took a wheezing breath. “Maki? Taku? Kisaki?”

“They’re alive,” she said, her worry growing. “They’re alive but Maki and Taku are unconscious, and Sensei.” She slapped him on the cheek lightly. “Sensei, stay with me please. I don’t—I can’t—”

Kyo took a deep breath. One thing at a time.

The bleeding.

Reaching for her pack felt like she was in another body, things hazy and far away for a moment before she forced herself back in the present. She wasted no time in digging bandages out of her pack, and she had never been so grateful for Katsurou-sensei teaching her that jutsu to sterilize her hands after she accidentally gave Maki food-poisoning what felt like forever ago.

It was a neat chakra trick that ensured she wouldn't contaminate the wound with any poison residue she might have on her hands.

She grit her teeth together.

Kyo got him out of his vest, pushed up his shirt and mesh-shirt underneath to wash the wound; gaping, clean cut that it was. She didn't know how to stitch skin and muscles and she didn't have any material for it, so she made do with the bandages.

She pulled them as tight as she dared, focused mostly on stopping the bleeding. She followed it by bandaging the wound on his leg.

That done, Kyo leaned back and tried to keep herself together.

If she relaxed for just a second, she'd shake apart.

Her fingers brushed against the Jounin vest she'd discarded beside her, and the Suna-nin. She found the scrolls quickly.

Red and black for enemies.

Kyo grasped them, then stood up on shaky legs. “Kisaki!” she called firmly. Kisaki. I need you to pay attention. They’re still alive, Kisaki. They’re still alive, but I need your help to keep a look out for any more enemies.”

Kisaki whined, a low sound, still huddled next to Taku, and Kyo understood. She understood why, but this was not the time and—“Kisaki, please. Kisaki, Taku’s not dead, but if we don’t get back to Konoha safely then he’ll die. Kisaki, they’ll die, and I can’t do it on my own. Please.

“Please, Kisaki. Please help me.”

After what felt like forever, Kisaki finally said quietly but firmly. “Okay. Okay.” She met Kyo’s eyes. “What do we need to do?”

Kyo took strength from her, and let out a slow breath. “I need to seal up the bodies, so I’m gonna need you to keep a watch.”

If there were other people, other shinobi around, the battel before would have attracted them more surely than her voice could now, but Kisaki seemed like she needed something to ground her. To prevent her from going too far in her own head.

Unsaid was the knowledge that even if any enemies were to be found, they were going to be in much better condition than they were, and it’d be pretty much a hopeless fight.

Kisaki snarled at the bodies but nodded, ears pricked up and standing over Taku’s body.

Kyo hurried over to the first body and quickly slapped a hand on the scroll before activating it. She wasn't about to just... leave her teammates' killers here. Where they'd get a peaceful resting place, hidden away from the rest of the world.

Once the bodies were sealed away, she clenched her fists and looked around her. One eight year old girl. One not-fully grown ninken. Three people to be transported back to Konoha without too much harm. The odds were definitely not in their favour.

“All right,” she said softly to herself. “All right.” She took in a deep breath. “Kisaki, do you think you can carry both Sensei and Taku?”

“I will,” Kisaki said, sounding like she’d make it happen, no matter what.

They were out of options, though, so Kyo nodded. “Taku first, then Sensei’s weight will help ensure he doesn’t fall off, if nothing else,” she decided.

Kyo grabbed Taku with both hands, and had to bite her tongue to keep an agonized scream behind her teeth.

“Kyo? What's wrong?” Kisaki asked, anxious and pressing against her side in an instant.

“I think my arm's broken,” Kyo gritted through the nauseating wave of pain radiating from the limb in question.

Scratch that 'I think'. It was broken. She could feel the bones shift against each other when she moved, now that her attention had been brought to the issue.

How had she not noticed until now?

Looking at it, the skin of her forearm was already darkening to a mottled bruise and it looked a bit swollen. It felt very hot when she touched trembling fingers to it.

She tried with Taku again, using just her left hand, this time, wedging her shoulder into his side to get more leverage, and managed to get him draped somewhat securely over Kisaki’s back. Then it was Sensei’s turn.

“Sensei? Can you hear me? I need you to try and help me get you on Kisaki's back,” Kyo said, turning to the man, who looked more unconscious than awake.

Then, instead of waiting, she used the same method to get him on Kisaki’s back without knocking Taku down in the process. Kisaki seemed to be straining under the weight. She had blood all over her fur from what seemed like a large collection of shallow cuts and bruises but her legs were steady, and she didn’t say a word, so Kyo decided to let it go.

Now for Maki.

She waffled over how to carry him for a moment, before laying down half over him, back to his front, and hauled his hand over her shoulder while rolling over to a crouch. It was an awkward position, but nothing some chakra wouldn’t counter.

“Let's hurry back to Konoha,” Kyo told her shakily, taking deep, gulping breaths of air and trying to force the bile back down her throat. “Can you run?”

“We'll try,” Kisaki returned, taking an experimental step forward. “Full stealth?”

“Yeah,” Kyo said, shuddering at the thought of coming across anyone else wishing to kill them in this situation. Just the potential prospect was enough to make her feel numb and mentally paralysed.

She didn't know what to do if that happened...

Exhausted, shaky and dazed, Kyo led them north-east, setting her sights on home and trying to keep herself focused on her task.

Kisaki was carrying too much weight to safety tree-walk, much less tree-jump so they stuck to the ground, moving swiftly.

She didn't dare stop to try and wrap her arm, either. Kyo had no idea if that could even make the injury worse, somehow, and the pain alone... she didn't think she'd be able to do it. Not with just one hand.

During the hours it took them, Kyo fell back regularly to check on Katsurou-sensei and Taku, every time praying to whatever powers there were that they would still be alive. She could feel Maki’s breath against her skin as they travelled, soft and small but there, and that was a blessing.

They were alive.

It was hours before midday when she noticed Kisaki flagging.

“Walk for a while,” Kyo ordered the ninken, after she'd ensured the dog drank a few mouthfuls of water from her canteen.

She took the moment choke down a rations bar, and take a drink, unwrapping another bar for Kisaki to woof down.

She was fine. They were fine. They just had to keep moving.

“Come on,” she murmured, continuing on, ignoring the slight stumble when her foot caught on a stone.

They walked. And walked.

It was nearing nightfall, when Kyo stumbled over a tree root and couldn’t find the strength to stand up with Maki anymore. She let out a tired sob of anger. She was only eight; she was too young, too small and they were going to die if she didn't-

Katsurou had a fever, and it was clear to Kyo he was in pain. The bandages she'd wrapped around his torso were stained a dark red. Taku and Maki were still unconscious. Kyo closed her eyes tightly and clenched her jaw.

“Okay,” she whispered, mostly to herself, and Kisaki’s ears twitched. “Come here, Kisaki. I’m going to take Sensei and Taku off your back.”

Kisaki whined in protest, and Kyo laid a hand on her snout, looking her in the eyes. “Kisaki. We’re close. We’re so close to Konoha, but we’ll never make it in time like this. You’re going to have to get help. You’re faster without the weight, Kisaki. And I’m lagging.”

“You’re down one arm,” Kisaki argued. “You won’t be able to protect them.”

“I still have my stealth and my poisons,” Kyo countered. “I’ll situate them near a tree then hide above and poison anyone that gets close.”

It was a far shot and both of them knew it. At best, Kyo would be able to take out an enemy before they knew she was there, and the element of surprise was lost.

But they didn’t have any other choice, and Kisaki knew it.

She licked a shallow cut on Kyo’s cheek. “Stay safe,” she said.

Kyo smiled grimly. “Run fast.”

Kisaki took one last look at their team huddled against the tree trunk, leaning against each other, then took off, disappearing quickly between the trees.

Kyo mustered her energy and jumped up onto a tree branch, quickly finding a vantage point and locking down her chakra. Her eyes drifted down to her team often, quick glances just long enough to make sure they were still alive.

If they hadn't- If they'd been in better condition, if Taku and Maki weren’t unconscious, they would have reached their destination by now, but as it was... Kyo wasn't even certain where, exactly, they were any more. She knew they were heading in the right direction, but she didn't recognize anything.

Not that it was light enough to see much of anything when it came to familiar landmarks. Not in the darkness under the trees.

Kyo... wasn't at all sure how much time passed. The minutes, hours, seemed to tick by in spurts, and she didn't really know what happened in between the moments of startling clarity.

The sky was just becoming incrementally lighter when she heard something. Her needles were in her hands immediately, primed and ready to be thrown as she held still and listened. Her nerves were wound up tighter and tighter when she heard Kisaki’s voice call out to her. “Kyo? Kyo, I found reinforcements.”

She wanted to sob in relief but first. First. “Kisaki, what happened the day after we went to the onsen?”

“Sensei gave Maki the Talk,” was the prompt answer, and she could have sworn she heard someone quickly swallow down a snort.

Kyo bit her lip, uncaring of the metallic taste that flooded her mouth, as she blinked rapidly to keep her tears at bay. A figure stepped out, moonlight reflecting off his mask and—

Oh. ANBU.

“Identify yourself,” the figure demanded, and Kyo took a moment to organize her thoughts.

“Team Katsurou,” she managed after another second. “Back from- from the Kawa border.”

Silence met her words, and for a long second it seemed like no one would do anything.

“Injuries?” The ANBU captain -or so she assumed- stepped forward.

“Taku and Maki are most likely poisoned. Don’t know how much. Sensei has a deep cut to the right side, and is likely poisoned as well,” Kyo replied as promptly as she could manage. “They need the hospital.”

If they were still alive.

How long had it been since she last checked?

The thought sent a spike of panic through her, and Kyo quickly fumbled to place her fingers on Sensei’s throat to try and find that quick, shallow, but definitely there, pulse. Then Maki, then Taku. The flutter against her fingers for all of them made her let out a small, relieved breath, almost falling to the ground when her legs felt like they were threatening to give out.

Kisaki came to her side, leaning against her in a show of solidarity and whined, giving her hand a lick. “I brought help,” she said.

“Yeah,” Kyo agreed faintly. “Yeah, you did. Good job, Kisaki.”

“What about you, kid?” The ANBU captain asked, and why wasn't anyone doing anything?

Kyo blinked uncomprehendingly at him. “They need a medic,” she repeated blankly.

She was fairly sure the man behind the mask sighed. He turned around and signed something to his team before approaching her. “We'll escort you to the hospital,” he said. “Will you let us carry your team?”

Kyo sucked in a small, quick breath, biting down on her fist to keep a sob at bay and nodded. “Please.”

The ANBU captain nodded sharply then signalled to his team to carry Sensei, Taku, and Maki. Kisaki whined, a small, low sound in her throat, when one of them hauled Taku up into their arms. Kyo laid a hand on her fur. “They’ll get them to the hospital,” she assured the dog.

One of the ANBU came up to her and knelt down on one knee to meet her bewildered gaze. “We’re still a distance from Konoha, kid, and you look like you’re on your last legs. Will you allow me to carry you back?”

She blinked at him, her hand tightening minutely against Kisaki’s fur. “I—What about Kisaki?”

Another ANBU walked over, nodding at the both of them. “I’ll carry her, if she’ll allow it.”

“I don’t—Kisaki isn’t—” Kyo twisted her expression as the words failed to come to her. “Kisaki is her own person,” she said at last. “She can make her own decision.”

Kisaki stared at the ANBU. “We will go faster?” she demanded.

The ANBU nodded, and Kisaki jerked her head in agreement. “Okay.”

“And you, kid?” the one in front of her prompted.

“Okay,” Kyo said, repeating after Kisaki. “Okay.”

I had a lot of fun reading through this! Thank you!

#HtS #HtS ask?#HtS AU #Anon's writing #long post

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geniusgub · 3 years

Text

north//chapter seventeen

genre: angst and some fluff

warnings: prison, solitary confinement, stabbing/physical violence

word count: 5k

summary: spencer needs to protect himself and he knows exactly how to do that.

pairing: season twelve spencer reid x oc

SPENCER

I had a million ways of getting out of that situation and yet, I chose the one that would cause the most pain. I chose the option that would come back to cause me the most pain.

It was dumb. Really, it was. I admit that now. I shouldn't have poisoned those drugs. Calvin would know I did it. There's nobody else it could have been. He knew Malcolm, as much as he claimed he didn't, and Calvin knew that Malcolm wouldn’t poison the drugs. Calvin knew it was me and the moment he was released from the infirmary, he outed me. He told everyone he could get his hands on that I'm a fed and that's the worst thing that could happen to me. That beating I got before? I'm about to get much worse than that.

I've been outed as a federal agent and my mom has been abducted by a hitwoman working with Mr. Scratch. I didn't think things could get any worse.

I know what I need to do and it's not ideal. In fact, it's maybe the worst plan possible. It could backfire and maybe it could get me killed. But I need to do what I have to do to survive. And if I get killed in the process of trying to survive, then whatever. At least I won't have to worry about surviving anymore.

I wake up and make my bed like usual, lining up for breakfast. And in my head, I say goodbye to my cell. My plan will keep me from ever seeing this cell ever again. I will ensure I never come back here ever again. Just as the guards shout for us to line up, I slip my hand under my pillow and grab Amelia’s note, tucking it in the pocket of my jeans.

I don't intend on wasting any of my precious three minutes on actually eating food. I can skip a meal today. I’m on edge as I shuffle through the food line, my head on a swivel and staying alert for any potential attacks. I sit down at a table by myself, thankfully unscathed for this moment. But as soon as I spot Calvin a few feet away, I’m reaching into my pocket, past Amelia's letter, and to my sharpened toothbrush.

I keep my eyes trained on Calvin in front of me, who's chatting to someone else. Staring always gets his attention, and I know the longer I do, the more it will piss him off. So I persist, locking my eyes on his face and hoping to pull his attention away from the inmate next to him. And it works, because within the next few seconds, he's sitting across from me.

"You're gonna need to grow eyes in the back of your head because you'll never see it coming."

I lean in towards Calvin, and for some scary reason, I'm calm. I'm so calm and unfazed with what I'm about to do but I don't give it a second thought. "I have a better idea."

Calvin cracks the tiniest smile as he scoffs. "What's that?"

I rise to my feet at the same time Calvin does and immediately lurch for him. Correctional officers rush over to break us up, but I'm quick to act on my plan. I aim my self-made shank at Calvin and position it perfectly so that when he's blocking it, I twist it and plunge it into my arm and then my leg to make it look like he stabbed me.

I cry out in pain but Calvin tosses his hands up, proclaiming his innocence as a guard drags him away. A guard is at my side too, looking at my bleeding arm while yelling something to another guard. I'm not exactly sure what they're saying but I hear the word "solitary" and I smile devilishly. My plan worked.

///

I've heard stories about solitary confinement throughout my years at the BAU. It's common practice to throw inmates in solitary to see how long it'll take them to crack and give us the information we need. I've seen countless prisons and jails and cells and solitary cells. But being in solitary confinement is completely different than being a federal agent on the outside. I thought it would be silent. I expected my thoughts to echo off the walls. But the only thing echoing is the cries and screams and moans of the other inmates around me. They’re shouting for help, for attention from the guards, for common human decency. It's agonizing. This endless noise is more agonizing than silence.

I lay down on the bench and close my eyes. I figure that since it's relatively dark in here, I might as well try to sleep. Maybe, I think, solitary will miraculously make my nightmares disappear and I'll be able to sleep without reliving someone's death. But every time I close my eyes, I just hear the other inmates crying out for attention from a guard. But the guards don't come. They never do. They never will. I consider shouting to offer my help, but that won't work. I don't have the energy anyway.

You'll never see it coming.

He's right. If he wanted to hurt me, I'd never know. I didn't see it the first time. Calvin has so much power in here. It's scary how much he does. It's scary how many strings he pulls. He could snap his fingers and have the other inmates on their knees in front of him, begging for their lives before he even says anything at all. If he wanted me dead, he could have it done within an hour.

I roll onto my side and cup my hands over my ears, trying to block out the sounds around me. I try to think of something better. I try to remember my favorite Mozart composition, but the notes aren't making sense in my brain and the song sounds horrible. I try to hear Henry and Michael's giggles, or hear Amelia's quick talking, or a story from my mother about my childhood, but nothing works. Nothing can drown out the screams and cries.

I quickly lose track of the time. It's not hard to. There's no window in here and the only way to tell the time is when food shows up. So I eventually get lunch and then dinner, and then I don't get anything else. Not until a vaguely threatening note from Calvin is slipped under the door. I crumple it up and throw it under the bench. I read Amelia’s letter seven times to cleanse myself.

I'm left to another restless night. I curl up again but the screams are deafening. Why won't someone just help them? These men are in agony. They shouldn't be in solitary confinement, they should be in a hospital or a mental hospital. They shouldn't be locked up and screaming for help to officers who don't give a shit about them.

I keep pulling out Amelia's letter in my pocket but as the day goes by, it gets too dark in here and I can't make out her handwriting. Of course, I've read it once and I can recite it already but I want to see her handwriting. I want to see the tear stains and the pen smudges and the mistakes. I want to have her comfort. But I can't. So I keep it tucked away in my breast pocket, directly against my heart.

I manage to drift off at some point, but it's one of the least satisfying periods of sleep I've ever had. I'm woken up every half hour or so by screaming and screaming and screaming. My head is pounding and my neck is sore from this awkward position and I'm starting to think this is worse than being in general population. Much worse.

It's suddenly morning. There's food being thrown through the slot in the door and an officer clunking along the hallway, ignoring every single inmate he passes. I grab the lame tray of food and let out a yawn, rubbing my eyes and sitting on the bench again. I eat quickly, in just two minutes and twenty seconds, and then balance the tray in the slot so the officer can take it away again.

I just sit there. It's not worth it to work out to try to read Amelia's letter. There's nothing to do but listen to the sounds around me. I can't sleep, I can't leave, I can barely even move around this tiny room. I'll just have to sit around and stare at the black walls until my time in solitary confinement is up and then I'll have to find another way to get myself thrown in here. I have to keep myself protected. If I can't get in protective custody, this is the only place where I'll be safe.

The sound of keys brings me out of my thoughts, and when the door to my cell opens, I scramble to my feet. When I see Wilkins standing there, the panic sets in. Wilkins is practically Calvin's lapdog. He eats out of Calvin's hands. He’s probably scared of the power that Calvin has, even in prison, much less in the outside world.

Wilkins pulls handcuffs off of his belts and slaps them on me, tightening them as tight as they can possibly go, but I don't complain. Now isn't the time for protests or complaints. Once they're on, he gives me a stoic look. "Let's go," he grabs my arm and drags me out, slamming the door behind us.

Outside the room, the first thing I notice is two other guards following us. That's an awful lot for me to be transported somewhere else. Where am I going?

"You're gonna need to grow eyes in the back of your head."

Wilkins leads me away from the block of solitary confinement cells and up a flight of stairs. His grip on my arm doesn't let up. It's far too tight for any normal transport. Where am I going?

"They're gonna beat you again. Might even kill you."

I know, for a fact, that the fastest route to get from solitary to the interview rooms would be to go through the cell blocks as opposed to walking around the blocks. That's how the prison is set up to be. But Wilkins makes it a point to not pass through the blocks. He doesn't want me to see who is in their cells and who isn't. He wants me to be surprised about who is going to kill me.

"You'll never see it coming."

Wilkins shoves me into an interview room, one without any tables or chairs, and one without anyone in it. But just because it's empty right now doesn't mean the door won't open in just a few seconds and flood with the inmates I sent to the infirmary or any of the countless inmates who just happen to hate federal agents.

"I can get you anywhere."

Wilkins grabs the chains of my handcuffs and pulls me towards him, unlocking them. He tucks them back onto his belt, gives me that same stoic look, and then leaves. He shuts the door behind him and leaves me in this empty interview room. I start to panic. What's happening? Why am I here? What has Calvin arranged to happen to me? Surely, he's arranged for me to be taken out of solitary so I can be killed. That must be the only option.

"I own this place."

My body jerks forward as the door opens again. My first instinct is to reach for my hip, to reach for the gun that hasn't been on my hip for months. I expect the hallway to be crowded with inmates. But instead, JJ comes in. I barely even believe my eyes. My heart starts pounding because now I have an inkling of why she's here and why this situation is so odd, but having hope right now is the worst thing to have.

"We're taking you home."

I swear, my knees could've buckled right then and there and I could've burst into tears. JJ pulls me into a hug before any of that can happen, though, and she holds me as tight as she can. It's the first hug I've felt in months and it's euphoric. The affection fills me with a feeling that I can't quite describe as anything other than pure bliss and pure relief.

"Okay, come on, let's get you out of here." JJ says, rubbing my back as she pulls away. "Is there anything in your cell you wanted to grab?"

"No, god no," I shake my head quickly, my lips quivering as I hold back tears. "Just get me out of here, please."

JJ smiles, unraveling her arms from around me and leading me out of the room. She helps me through the paperwork that needs to be done and then she gives me a box with my name on it, containing the suit I wore in court. It's not my ideal outfit to be wearing right now, but it's better than the mandatory outfit I've been wearing the last three months.

"I'll be right here when you're done," JJ smiles, gesturing to the little area where I'm supposed to change.

It feels nice to finally have something other than this scratchy and smelly blue material, and the suit I have is heavy and is a bit big now. I hadn't realized I'd lost so much weight. But I knot my tie and return my blues to a waiting officer, and then give an expecting smile to JJ.

"There he is!" I turn at the sound of Luke's voice, turning just in time for him to hug me too. "It's good to have you back, brother."

"Thanks," I mumble into his shoulder with a heavy sigh. "Where'd you just come from?"

"Oh, I was just talking to Shaw," Luke smirks, shrugging his shoulders. "He'll enjoy his time in Michigan at FCI Milan. The Bratva will be happy to see him."

I should feel guilty about that, but I don't.

"Let's get going, there's some people who are very excited to see you," JJ puts her hand on my back and guides me along, out some more gates and into the blaring daylight. It's a painful contrast to the solitary cell I was in just a half hour ago. The sunlight burns my eyes but it's a welcomed feeling now.

I grin when I see Penelope approaching and I quickly sweep her into my arms. She hugs my waist tighter than I've ever felt her do so before, and I reciprocate around her shoulders. "It's so good to see you. I missed you," I tell her, and she's becomes the first person I hear let out a genuine laugh in over three months. Maybe four months. Maybe five months.

"I missed you too, Spencer," she beams, and pulls away, squeezing my hands.

My stomach tightens with excitement and my eyes tear up for the first time when I let go of Garcia's hands. I instinctively reach for my pants pocket and feel for the letter, just for reassurance. My eyes scan for the beautiful blonde that I've been craving to see more than anyone, but I come up empty. My chest deflates and I takes a step back, bumping right into Luke, who grabs my shoulder. "She didn't come?" I whisper, my voice cracking and shaking, tears beginning to stream down my cheeks.

I love my friends so much, but I’ve seen them all at least five times since my arrest. I haven’t seen Amelia since I was transferred from Mexico and put in jail. I didn’t see her at my arraignment and I didn’t put her on my list of approved visitors. I wanted to see her beautiful eyes and feel her touch and see her smile and hear her voice telling me that she loves me.

I glance between my three friends, lips quivering. “I know I told her not to visit but I thought this was different because--"

"She's here." JJ interrupts, putting her hand on my other shoulder. "Spencer, she is here. We picked her up but she got here and she was intimidated by the building so she didn't wanna come in. She's outside by the cars. She wouldn't abandon you like that."

She's here. She really did wait for me. Well, I never had doubts that she would wait for me. But after all the times she watched my team come to visit me and after I told her not to see me when she had chances to, she still came to my release date. She still stayed by my side. Metaphorically, of course.

I nod, and in my bleary, love-struck daze, Penelope grabs my hand and drags me away from the prison. She drags me right out of the gates. It's bizarre to me, it always has been, that there are only a few fences that separate the inmates from the free world. It's just some welded chainlink. That is it.

"We went to Amelia's apartment," Garcia explains as we walk closer to the parking lot, "and she wanted to take her own car. So I drove her car with her and JJ and Luke went in the SUV."

Garcia lets go of my hand when Amelia finally comes into my view. And seeing her, standing here as the sun rises, it's like I'm meeting her for the first time. I'm meeting her all over again.

She's just as beautiful as I remember her to be. I didn't expect her beauty to falter, though. She'll still be the most remarkably beautiful angel on the face of the earth to me. And in the rising sun, she looks perfect. I wish I had her camera so I could take a picture of this moment, of her beauty.

Her blonde hair is curly and a bit unruly, probably because she was woken up by the team far too early in the morning to get here. She's wearing the oversized sweats she usually wears on lazy Sundays and especially on rainy days. Her glasses are resting on the bridge of her nose and she's fiddling with something in her fingers. I notice that there's a new tattoo on her hand, but from here, I can't see what it is. All of her piercings are missing and she just looks raw and unfiltered and just plain perfect.

She looks perfect and gorgeous and beautiful and I want to fall to my knees and beg for her forgiveness for all the heartache that I've caused her because of this. Forget everything I've been through. I want to tell her how much I love her and apologize until the word sorry sounds wrong and swear that I will spend the rest of my life making this up to her. But I'm frozen in my spot, just admiring her and wishing I could touch her. After so long, it doesn't seem real. Part of me thinks that a guard is about to run out and tell us there's been a mistake and they're going to drag me back inside. Part of me thinks that my mind is playing a trick on me and that my girlfriend isn't standing just a few feet away from me.

Her chest heaves and it's then I notice that she's crying. She reaches her hand up to move her glasses and wipe her tears away, and that's when I notice something else. She's not even looking at me. She's looking up. She's staring up at the sky. Her gaze hasn't deviated and I'm not even sure if she's noticed my presence yet. If she has, she's done a good job of hiding it. I follow her gaze to the sky, and when I see what's so interesting up there, it brings the tiniest smile to my face.

I breathe in a new batch of fresh air and a step closer to her. I move until I'm an arms-length away, and when I'm close enough to touch, her breath hitches. I don’t reach out to touch her though, because I don’t think either of us is ready for that. As badly as I need her touch, I need her to be fully present. I’m not even fully present yet. My mind is still lingering inside those gates I just passed.

When I step closer, her hands stop moving, but she doesn’t make another effort to start. She doesn’t move at all. She doesn't look at me and she doesn't hug me and she doesn't kiss me. And for some reason, it doesn't hurt that she doesn't immediately jump on me. Maybe it's because I'm still wondering if this is reality. Maybe she's wondering the same.

I glance up at the sky before settling on her eyes that have always enchanted me. "I'm sorry," I say softly. I watch her lips start to shake, but she stands her ground, nose scrunching up in the cutest way. "I tried to see dinosaurs and cars and lamps like you told me about, but I couldn't. I need you to teach me how to see shapes in the clouds because I can't do it without you, baby." I pause after I speak, waiting for a reaction.

I’m not sure what reaction I was expecting, honestly. But she looks at me. She averts her gaze from the sky and locks her bloodshot eyes with mine, and it’s such a captivating sight that I never want to look away. I huff out the air in my lungs and I reach for her, but I don’t grab onto anything, because I retreat my hands before I touch her. Who am I kidding? I don’t even deserve to touch her anymore. These hands have committed so many sins inside those walls. I shouldn’t be allowed to touch someone as pure and innocent as Amelia. But she just stares at me, waiting, gazing into my eyes as her body starts to tremble.

“I-“ I stumble over my words, just like the first time I ever talked to her. I clench my hands into fists and I start to break. In the presence of the woman I love, in the presence of the woman who knows all my secrets, in the presence of the woman who has never failed to remind me that she will love me unconditionally, I allow myself, for the first time in months, to be vulnerable. “Lia, I need you.”

Amelia finally breaks with my words. She lets out a sob as she nods, throwing her arms around my shoulders. She throws herself against me, and out of the three people I hugged previously, they don't hold a flame to this hug. Amelia's body is shaking and trembling against mine as I hold her with a death grip, my hands grasping her clothes. Her hands have a hold on my suit jacket, and while I wish her hands could be on my skin, being as close to me as possible, I know that won’t happen for a while, I’m being greedy. I’m just happy to be holding her after so long.

"I love you," she cries into my shoulder, and I think my heart bursts at the confession. I’ve waited so long to hear her say those words. I’ve laid awake at night, trying to recall the way it sounds when she says those beloved words, and I could never come up with an accurate memory. I squeeze her tighter, hiccuping into her shoulder as I cry. "I love you so fucking much. If you ever leave me like that again, I'll-"

"I won't." I don't even let her finish her sentence, I just nod into her shoulder. She hums softly in response, and when I hear her take a deep breath and then release, her warm breath brings a type of goosebumps to my skin that haven’t appeared since we last laid in bed together. I squeeze my eyes shut and force a few tears to fall onto her shirt. "I'm never leaving you ever again. We're moving in together and we're getting married and having a family and I'm gonna make you hate me with how annoying my statistics are and you're gonna love it."

Amelia laughs, and I swear, the sound is more beautiful than any of those Mozart or Brahms pieces I tried to remember while in solitary. Amelia’s laugh is one in a million. I should have never taken such a remarkable sound for granted. "That sounds perfect, dove,"

She lifts her head and her ocean eyes connect with mine again. She places her hands on my cheeks, thumbs brushing over my skin. She leans in close, her nose brushing against mine delicately. My eyelids flutter closed at the intimacy, and I forget that we have an audience. I forget that we're in public and in front of the place that has been my living hell for three months. But Amelia's laugh makes me forget. Amelia makes me forget everything happening for a split second, and that’s all I need.

“You promised.”

“I did,” I whisper, brushing our noses together and holding back tears. “And I still haven’t broken a promise, right? I never will.” She suddenly giggles and the melodic, beautiful, familiar sound brings one of the first genuine smiles to my face. “What?”

She trails her hands down my cheeks and to my jawline. "I was right."

My eyes open again, and my brows furrow. "You were right?"

She smiles mischievously at me, and when her pointer finger presses into my upper lip, I understand. "Your facial hair is sexy." I toss my head back laughing, truly laughing for the first time in months.

Only this remarkable woman could make me laugh at a time like this. Only she could make me laugh after everything I've just been through. She presses her body flush against mine, and while just an hour ago, a body against mine would have made me panic, our connection makes me relax.

Amelia looks up at me as a tear drips down her cheek, and she smiles. Just a moment ago, she was teasing. She was happy and she was carefree, glad to see me. But now she’s tentative. "Can I kiss you?"

"Yes," I answer far too quickly, nodding eagerly "yes please."

With her hands now on my cheeks, she brings my lips down to hers. And whether she was intending for it to be a simple peck or not, it doesn't matter. Her lips are soft and smooth and warm and taste like strawberries and I wish I could kiss her forever. I never want this kiss to end. I want to lay in bed with her and whisper sweet nothings until the sun rises and we realize we haven’t slept yet. I want to kiss her until our lips are swollen and then go back for more. I want to make love to her like we never have before, bodies sweaty and pressed against each other under a duvet. I want to have her lay on my chest and count the freckles on my stomach until she loses track and has to start over again. I don’t want those moments to cease ever again.

I hold her waist in my hands as tight as I can, not wanting her to run away or leave me. It's cruel of me to think that she could change on me at the drop of a hat, but I guess that's what prison has done to me. Prison has made me untrusting. Prison has changed me, as much as I don’t want to admit it. But Amelia has never given me a reason to think that she would leave me because of this. She spent months following me through a false arrest and I still think she would leave me? How awful.

I pull away, breathless, eyes half-lidded. "I love you," I confess quickly. “I love you so much. Thank you so much for being here. I wanted to see you so bad- I needed to see you.”

“It didn’t seem real,” she admits, dragging her hands down my chest, straightening my tie. “I didn’t wanna get my hopes up. Penelope drove and I just- I’d gotten so used to getting bad news that I didn’t wanna be so heartbroken if it didn’t happen.” She brings her hands further down, and then she notices the letter in my inside jacket pocket. But Amelia doesn’t take it out, she just acknowledges its presence and smiles. She fixes my jacket and then flattens it out, resting her forehead against my chest, wrapping her arms around my waist, once again bringing her body flush against mine.

I sigh contently, resting my chin on the top of her head. "Did you read my letter?"

Amelia nods, laughing, her chest rumbling against mine. "I did and I cried. Dave gave it to me and I cried and I hugged him and I hugged Penelope and it was the happiest I’d been the entire time you were, um,” she narrows her eyes, figuring out her choice of words, “well, gone. So, thank you for doing that.”

“Thank Rossi. He’s the one who smuggled in the pen and flashed his badge to get the letter in.” I bring my gaze down to her, and she lifts her head. I move my hands up and down her arms, sighing. I let myself be vulnerable again. She’s the only one I’d only allow myself to confess such things to, and after months of holding my thoughts in, I’m scared to let them out, but I know I’ll need to eventually. "I didn't lie. I thought about you every single day and you're the only reason I'm standing here right now.”

"Spencer." She speaks my name for the first time and it sounds like music to my ears. Amelia drops her hands from my waist and intertwines our fingers, squeezing gently. "You're home now and you're not going anywhere again, okay?" I nod to her as if confirming her words. "Alright. Let's go find your mom."

TAGLIST

@babybloodstonebones @bxnnywriting @blameitonthenight21 @feralreid @anepiphany @reidscardigan @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @4x24 @whollytaciturn @thegingerfairchild @yasminwashere @shrimpyblog @anamelessfacelessnerd @wonderlandhatter @whxt-to-write @inkandexchange @just-call-me-non

#nikos north fic #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #dr reid #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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eurosong · 3 years

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Undo my ESC '21 (semi-final two)

Good afternoon folks, and welcome to the second part of Undo my ESC – my annual quest to make the year’s Eurovision better (at least, for me xD) by making a feasible change in each country – it could be something as small as altering a lyric or a staging detail, or as big as a different artist entirely winning the NF. Semi-final one was here so let's jump straight into SF2!

🇸🇲 San Marino: We're thrown into the deep end here with a fan fav that doesn't do at all for me. I'm one of maybe 5 people on the planet who prefers Freaky by far, I guess? I'm happy for Senhit to be getting so much love and for the diminutive serene republic to finally have a shot at a good result - but I'm not so keen on the way it's been done. There's a bit of cognitive dissonance for me because my favourite thing about Adrenalina is Flo Rida's rap, but I don't like the idea of bringing in famed American artists like "ringers" to elevate a song above one with "only" local talent. I would be so tempted to give the rap part to local artist IROL instead to spit some hot bars in Italian.

🇪🇪 Estonia: I had hope this year, I really did, for my era of absolutely adoring Estonia at ESC to be revived after 4 painful years. There were so many good songs at this year's Eesti Laul, like those of Ivo Linna, Egert, Gram of fun, Heleza - but ultimately, my huge favourite was, as expected, Jüri Pootsmann. Anyone who followed this blog back in 2016 knows how much I adore Jüri and was desperate to see him get a redemption arc at ESC itself. Magus melanhoolia was one of the best songs of the season for me and one of the best stagings. As much as I prefer '20 artists to get their shot in '21, problematic Uku with his toxic ex vibes song will have to step aside and let the Jüri renaissance happen here.

🇨🇿 Czechia: I really dig Benny Cristo - he has personality, presence and his own enjoyable style. At first I was kinda disappointed with Omaga because I was expecting something more in the vein of Kemama, with more pronounced Afrobeat influences. But it has grown on me a lot too. My change? Add more Czech than just one blink-and-you-miss-it line, mate! (Article continues below)

🇬🇷 Greece: I see this being talked up as potential televote top 3 and I just don't get it. Maybe it's the way the chorus rhymes dance with itself three times (and uses the term rockin' romance unironically); maybe it's the way that there are better 80s-inspired songs both in ESC and many fallen tributes in the NF season... it just leaves me cold. I actually preferred Supergirl and my change would be for Stefania to bring something with some actual Greek flair.

🇦🇹 Austria: I’ll echo what I said last year about Österreich – how did they go from Conchita to a guy who wished he wouldn’t have gay kids like this? I find both of this guy's songs insipid in different ways and I would invite Pænda back instead to avenge her getting robbed with the beautiful Limits. Or give a second shot at glory to the incredible Cesár!

🇵🇱 Poland: Unpopular opinion, but I absolutely love The Ride, and I feel bad for Alicja, but I much prefer it to Empires. What started as an ironic fondness for Rafał's cringy uncle vibes ended up being genuine appreciation - it's one of the few 80s-inspired songs that sound like they actually could have come out of that decade rather than like modern pastiches. And Raf actually does have an awkward charisma. My change - insert some Polish! Poland does so well with natural sounding bilingual efforts in JESC, they should bring it to the main contest too!

🇲🇩 Moldova: I was lowkey prepared to be disappointed by Moldova - I actually enjoyed Prison a lot and the news that they were going in a completely different direction didn't sit so well with me. And yet, I also love Sugar. Natalia's power! My changes: get rid of that weird scene with literally egg on her face - too on the nose for me. And incorporate a bit of the stellar Russian translation, Tuz bubi, because I'm always going to be advocating for more linguistic diversity xD

🇮🇸 Iceland: Daði Freyr can literally do no wrong with me. Whilst it doesn't have the same intense extra-fandom hype that Think about things did, I think I like Ten years even more. Nothing to change here.

🇷🇸 Serbia: It's no secret that Hurricane were far from my favourites at Beovizija 20, and that I find this a downgrade for Sanja compared to her powerful '16 song. And yet... Hasta la vista grew on me a lot, and so has Loco loco. It's something that is definitely scratching an itch at this year's ESC and the burst of anarchic energy it'll provide will be amazing. I am seriously tempted to change to the acoustic version, though, which has all the attitude of the original but is more beautiful for me and lets the girls' voices shine more.

🇬🇪 Georgia: Georgia keeps serving acquired tastes, and as a patron saint of marginal genres and I love them for that. This year, they've gone for something that even many fans of Tornike find hard to swallow - gone is the roaring rock of last year, replaced with a much more contemplative, soft effort that reminds me a little of Lou Reed. I enjoy both songs, but I can't deny preferring 2020. At the same time, I admire the chutzpah required to send something so different. I just wish there could be a moment to properly showcase T's powerhouse vocals.

🇦🇱 Albania: It was an odd Festival i këngës this year, outdoors in the freezing cold and without the orchestra that makes the songs soar so much more for me. Karma is a perfectly respectable winner, albeit one that lacks the immediacy and rawness of Shaj, Ktheju tokës and Mall. In my ideal alternate reälity, Arilena Ara would have been invited back. She'd bring a song as beautiful as Shaj - and not do a revamp into English that removes its edge this time.

🇵🇹 Portugal: 2015-2020 was a full on Portugal stan era for me. I want to believe that this year is an aberration and that in 2022, our lusitanian neighbours will produce the goods once again. Because ending a colossal streak of not sending songs that don't include Portuguese for this? I am baffled. I wanted the anthemic Joana do mar, produced beautifully by Luísa Sobral, or the timeless Contramão, which sounds like it escaped a Nouvelle Vague soundtrack. Saudade, Por um triz or a number of others would have been grand too.

🇧🇬 Bulgaria: I wasn't expecting much from Bulgaria - I really didn't and don't like TGS and the majority of songs in Victoria's NF-but-not-really aren't my cup of tea. I was happy she got her second chance, but resigned to not liking the song much that would get picked. And then, my fav, which was last in many community ratings, ended up being her pick. I adore GUIGO and believe it has the possibility to do very, very well at Rotterdam and be one of the 'moments' of the evening.

🇫🇮 Finland: CRIMINAL how YLE treated Aksel - it felt like he wasn't the defending champion, and that Erika Vikman had won the previous year. They also - I believe, deliberately - split his vote by making his just one of a number of ballads, so of course what stood out most were the two decidedly non-ballady songs. Finland only two years ago had a single-artist UMK. They could and should have brought it back for Aksel. I'd hope Hurt would win it, because that song is stunning.

🇱🇻 Latvia: I was, and am, delighted that Latvia stuck with Samanta Tina. The lady lives and breathes ESC, even wrote a university thesis about it, and if she tried so many times, finally won and then DIDN'T get to go to ESC, I would have gone to LTV headquarters personally to remonstrate. I really like both her songs. The moon is rising is poised, powerful and like nothing else this year. The only thing I'd change is adding some Latvian because it's a gorgeous language and we've been waiting for ages to hear it again.

🇨🇭 Switzerland: Gjon's song is once again not really my cup of tea, or tears - but I enjoy it better than last year's and I'm glad he's back. Highkey wish it did include Albanian or Romansch like confused commenters last year thought it did.

🇩🇰 Denmark: There is literally no excuse for Denmark's treatment of Ben & Tan. I'm not even a big fan of their music at all, out to not even allow them to compete in DMGP to defend their win with Iron heart? Even though there are songs that competed in DMGP that I prefer a lot, most notably Står lige her, I would probably have let them have a proper second chance.

And the automatic qualifiers voting in this semi -

🇫🇷 France: For me, France had an absolutely enthralling, sincere, perfectly Gallic entry that hit me so hard in the feels. And whilst I respect Voilà, no, that wasn't it. It was Pourvu qu'on m'aime, easily one of the best songs I heard all year inside NFs or out. I find Voilà a little too mannered and affected, whilst PQM is a shot straight from Juliette's heart into mine. In my dream, it'd have won CVQD and be receiving the same love that Voilà is right now.

🇪🇸 Spain: Whilst it is getting next to no love in the fandom and seems quite forgotten, I find Voy a quedarme one of the best songs sent from this country in several years - and I say that having preferred Memoria. I am proud of Blas and love that he had a hand in writing this song. My change? He said recently that the staging in Rotterdam won't be inspired by the poignant music video despite wanting it to be - I would incorporate elements from it in the live.

🇬🇧 United Kingdom: Frankly, I think almost all the Big 5+1 brought it this year, with the notable exception of Germany. Embers is the banger that I never thought was coming from James Newman, and it's been one of the biggest earworms of the season. I wouldn't change anything about it - I'd just ensure that the staging replicated the energy of the video as much as possible!

#eurovision #esc 2021 #opinion #eurovision song contest #eurovision 2021

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Down with the Recipe, Bake from the Heart, 1/10 (Multi) - Juno

Summary: This year’s Great British Bake Off will see some baking for sure, but also a few surprises. Tayce goes into the Bake Off tent determined to bring the winning cake stand to Wales, along with a few Star Baker badges, but her attention may not be on baking for too long as she gets to know fellow baker Aurora, on the same row as her. And judging by the other contestants, Tayce might not be the only one focusing on something other than baking this season.

A/N: This is a DRUK2 group based on GBBO - there are a few ships! It’s also on AO3 with 12 chapters but I will post here with 10 for ease as the first two and last two will are being done together. No CWs for this chapter! I hope you enjoy.

PROLOGUE - October 2021

It had been Cheryl who had suggested a live react to the grand finale of this season of Bake Off, so the twelve finalists could all gather together, watch the finale, and then the winner’s reaction could be captured on film and put on the internet for the whole world to see. Cheryl hadn’t even been in the cast - she’d been on the previous season - but she said she’d become invested in the season and the bakers so much so that she hadn’t wanted to let them go yet.

And judging by the public’s reaction to her tweet about it, she wasn’t alone.

Pip had mentioned in their group chat that her sister had a big town house in the Wirral, and she’d offered to let them all use it as a base for their live watch. Channel 4 didn’t have anything purpose-built for them, and the filming location wasn’t available, so they’d all jumped at the chance. Plus, Liverpool served as a good mid-point for them all - it saved Joe having to go all the way to Dundee or Ellie having to go to Brighton.

Aurora had marvelled at the amount of space there was once they’d all arrived the previous day. The living room and dining area were one, with a dining table probably big enough to fit a couple of football teams at it; and the kitchen led into the room with an arched doorway. The kitchen itself was enormous too, in highly polished white surfaces that Aurora was terrified to touch with her probably-impure fingers

“Bit posh, isn’t it!” She’d muttered to Tayce.

Pip’s sister and her husband were staying away, and they had the place all to themselves - the twelve of them reunited, with just Blu and Cheryl for company, operating a handheld camera with the intention of sending the finale footage for Channel 4.

As three endings had been recorded back in June, with each of the finalists winning one of the takes, the actual winner’s reveal would be a surprise to all of them, including the three finalists, and ensure no slip ups from the production team.

That didn’t stop all twelve of them worrying. None of them had slept a wink, all of them keeping an eye on Prue’s twitter to make sure she hadn’t accidentally tweeted the winner again. But mostly they’d been together, reminiscing on some of the moments from the season that had made them laugh. All the funny moments, all the tense moments, and one or two viral moments loaded with innuendo.

Not to mention everything else that had blossomed in tandem with nature that springtime.

It had been quite a season. They’d started out as strangers, and now they were so tightly-knit that they hadn’t even entertained the thought that they would possibly be watching the finale without all of them in the same space.

Aurora swilled the glass of champagne that Joe had insisted on pouring for everyone, and watched all of the people she’d grown close to on the season, a peaceful atmosphere in the room as they waited for the finale to start.

Well, not all of them were peaceful. Lawrence and Ellie were being their usual loud selves, jousting with wooden spoons and shrieking as loudly as they ever did - but Bimini was utterly still for the first time since Aurora had met them, laid against Asttina’s chest as they both reclined on one of the sofas, while Asttina raked her fingers through their mullet; and Bimini’s eyes were closed, their lips in a sleepy smile.

Aurora felt familiar hands creep around her waist, a familiar chin rest on her shoulder from behind, and familiar lips at her cheek.

“I can’t believe it’s coming to an end now,” Aurora murmured, her thoughts escaping her unfiltered, as they sometimes did with Tayce at this close range.

“Well, it was never gonna be forever,” Tayce said into her ear. “But we’re all gonna be friends after this, aren’t we! The wonders of technology! Come into the twenty-first century, Rory. We have this thing called the internet, and group chats, and phones -”

“We’re not all just gonna be friends, though, are we?” Aurora replied.

“We’re all just besties, nothing more than that. Rory, I’m joking!” Tayce laughed at Aurora’s horrified expression. “All I’m saying is that this isn’t the end - just the beginning.”

“That’s so cheesy.”

“Yeah, but I’m right, you can’t deny that!”

Aurora let her eyes drift around everyone else in the room.

Tia and Veronica who had barely left their corner of the sofa, hands and legs wound tightly together, both with hearts in their eyes and bigger smiles than anyone else in the room as they chatted quietly, simply enjoying each others’ company.

Lawrence and Ellie, wooden spoons still in hand, making the most noise in the room in delighted laughter as they jousted with each other, almost knocking Pip over as she carried in another tray of snacks to lay on the dining table.

Bimini resting against Asttina’s chest as they reclined on the other sofa, Asttina still running her fingers through Bimini’s freshly-dyed mullet, both of them letting out a contented sigh in tandem.

“Yeah,” Aurora murmured, as Tayce held her tighter, “I guess so.”

——

WEEK 1: BISCUIT WEEK

April 2021

Tayce grinned at the cameras as they panned around everyone. She’d given the interviewer her spiel about how much she’d always dreamt of being in the gingham tent and how excited she was to bring the winning cake stand to Wales for the first time in Bake Off history; and a surprising calm settled in her chest, nerves dissipating, at the genuine warm aura from everyone and everything in the room.

At least Tayce wasn’t in full view of the judges right at the front. That privilege was reserved for two people from London, both of whom looked right at home in front of the cameras, although their names were a mystery for now.

It was all very familiar from seeing it on the telly the last eleven years. Immaculate worktops with varnish that shone like glass; the tent walls decorated with bunting and flowers, and the pastel shelves and adorned with china cups; the multi-coloured KitchenAids ready to whisk, fold and anything else - Tayce’s was pure white, while the woman from Nottingham on the bench opposite her had a turquoise one.

Tayce chanced another glance at her; the tight-lipped smile showed a single dimple, and her long blonde hair was tied off her face, but her fingers drummed nervously on the workbench, and she evidently wasn’t as poised as the veneer she displayed for the cameras.

Tayce smiled to herself. It’ll be fun winning this thing.

——

Signature: 24 Iced Biscuits

The best bit of the show when it was on the telly was the banter between Matt and Noel. Seeing them in person, even from a distance away, made Tayce’s stomach bubble with excitement, and she had to cling to the workbench a little tighter to stay upright.

“Well, bakers, welcome to the gingham tent! Back for another season of Prue-Paul’s Baking Race!”

Prue’s sweet smile was complemented by her brightly-coloured glasses and sharp, matching blazer, while Paul’s cool stare lingered on everyone in the room a split second longer than they all would have liked.

“For the signature today,” Matt said, “the judges would like you to make twenty-four iced biscuits. The biscuits can be any flavour -“

“ - but should tell the judges a little bit about yourselves or where you’re from.”

“Where are you from, Noel?”

“Oh, you know, the moon.”

Everyone was laughing, even Tayce; although it wasn’t that funny - but the whole room was dancing with nerves by now, starting to become contagious from the people around her.

“On your marks -“

“Get set -“

“BAKE!”

Once Matt Lucas and Noel Fielding had declared the immortal lines to the room, everyone was scrambling for ingredients from their bags and the fridges.

Tayce was still cringing a bit at the dragon-shaped cookie-cutter her mum had found in some gift shop near the castle in Cardiff. She didn’t understand why tourists would be making dragon-shaped biscuits inspired by their trip to Wales, but for once she was thankful for tourists. Her friend Cara had customised it a little when she’d seen her a couple of weeks ago, by melting the tail with her lighter, elongating it a little, and extending the jaw and ears to make it look a little more ferocious.

“Can’t have people thinking you’re not breathing fire,” she’d said, passing the cigarette back to Tayce, “otherwise they won’t think you’re competition.”

And Tayce had nodded, holding smoke in her lungs half a beat longer than usual, wondering if she cared whether anyone thought of her as competition. After all, it was Bake Off. The last sabotage attempt there had been a national scandal the following day.

The most unproblematic, drama-free show on the telly.

Nothing was going to happen here.

——

“The judges are coming for you next,” one of the cameramen nudged Tayce out of her thoughts, just as she was measuring out her flour, causing it to fly upwards in a cloud “Just a heads up. Oh, sorry love.”

“Right, right.” Tayce nodded, brushing flour from her face. “What do I say to them again?”

“Just … talk. It’s the first episode. Show them your personality.”

“Personality,” Tayce repeated, nodding. “I’ve got oodles of that.”

“Great stuff. And don’t forget to be doing something bake-ey while they’re coming over.”

The cameraman dodged out of the way to make room for the medical team, running to help the woman in front of Nottingham, who had managed to slice her finger on something already.

“Here they are,” Tayce muttered to herself, taking a deep breath and straightening as the judges, along with Matt and Noel, came over to her.

“Morning, Tayce!”

Paul Hollywood was shorter than he appeared to be, and Prue Leith was taller, but nothing prepared Tayce for meeting either of them. Tayce held her breath for a split second, smiling somewhat mechanically to try to mask the sudden heat in her face.

“Bore da, folks! I’ve brought the weather with me!” Tayce beamed, indicating the heaving downpour of rain that was falling outside the tent; and they all laughed politely.

Tayce momentarily stopped concentrating on the judges and noticed the woman opposite her, turning to watch Tayce interact with the judges. And every time she was describing the perfect quality that her dragon-shaped shortbread biscuits would turn out, she seemed to slow her actions, looking up over at them.

The conversation was light, but Tayce could feel the calm authority of both judges before her, making words freeze on her tongue. It only went on for a minute or two, but Tayce was left feeling as if she should have prepared more.

Oh well. What’s done is done.

The ingredients for her biscuits were mixing slowly in the KitchenAid, the gentle whirr of the blades almost lulling Tayce to sleep as she sipped her cup of tea, before she took out the ball of shortbread dough and rolled it out to cut into biscuits.

“Your accent is so nice.”

Tayce looked up from her biscuits, to see the woman from Nottingham had come over, tucking her hair behind her ear, leaving her hand resting at the back of her neck to play absently with the strings of her apron. Up close, the dimple in her cheek was emphasised as a shy smile twitched at the corners of her mouth.

“Thank you!” Tayce stood to her full height. “This place doesn’t look like Barry Island yet but give it some time!” She leaned against the workbench, tossing her hair away from her shoulders.

“My accent is … well, it’s just … northern,” she continued with a giggle. “I’m Aurora, by the way. I’m so bad at names, I’m sorry, you’ve probably already said yours!”

“Don’t worry, I am too. I’m Tayce. And if I forget your name, well - yeah, same.”

Aurora’s gaze lingered half a second too long as she tested the name on her tongue.

“Tayce.” Her smile widened. “Nice to meet you.”

——

Tayce was terrible at names. She had no idea how she was going to remember who all eleven of these other people were, especially as one of them would be going every week - the pool of people getting smaller and smaller until Tayce would be remaining with whoever else was any good out of these lot.

As the day went on, she started to pick them up.

She had to learn Asttina’s for one, because Asttina seemed to know everyone’s name from the word go. Asttina was one of the two Londoners at the front, and was the only one of the group who had made a deliberate effort to come round to all their workbenches to formally introduce herself during the bake itself, her demeanour confident but her handshake gentle and light as air.

“Nice to meet you, Tayce,” she’d said, with a cool smile that reminded Tayce of a Miss World competition. “Looking forward to tasting all your bakes!”

She knew Pip’s name too, on the bench just behind Asttina, as she’d turned up in the tent wearing elf ears, claiming they were for luck. Everyone had been staring at her workbench, where she’d positioned a tiny blue handbag with a red circle in the middle, saying she took it with her wherever she went.

“I had a sesh with a psychic,” Pip explained to them all as a group of them crowded round her. “She’s a bit of a local celeb in Liverpool, Psychic Sally they call her, but - anyway, she told me to look for a sign in blue and red, said it was from me great-grandpa - and the same day I walked past one of those handbag shops on Paradise Street and there it was, in the window, 70% off!”

“Definitely couldn’t have been a coincidence, Pippa,” Tayce grinned, and Pip shook her head in agreement, but she had a mischievous glint in her eye and Tayce wasn’t entirely sure how serious she was about the whole affair.

Ellie’s name too had become familiar, because of the amount of times the show’s medics would groan it when she managed to hurt herself on something that episode. Ellie herself had been quiet most of the day, seemingly a little shy and evidently the youngest in the room; but she’d bounced on the balls of her feet at meeting Matt Lucas, garbling something about her and her brother doing all the impersonations as kids.

The soft-spoken woman in front of Tayce was called Cherry, and Tayce had found that out because she’d pointed it out to everyone when she put cherry flavouring in her biscuits.

“Does that actually, y’know, work as a flavour?” Tia had asked her when she was explaining it to them.

Tia was another name that Tayce knew, mainly because the woman was so tall and striking. She looked like she’d come straight off a catwalk and wandered into the Bake Off tent by complete accident on her way to London Fashion Week, happening to become covered in flour in the process.

Cherry had huffed. “I don’t know, but you eat cherry-flavoured things all the time! What could go wrong with putting it in biscuits?”

Tia grimaced. “Wait. Have you … never put cherry flavouring in biscuits before? Didn’t you practise at home?”

Tayce couldn’t help but feel a twinge of mirth as she watched Cherry chew her tongue, her cheeks flushing, but her jaw set obstinately. “I know what I’m doing. I can do this.”

“You haven’t even practised this bake? Okay. So how late do the trains run from here to Newcastle?” Tayce had asked Cherry, and Aurora had doubled over in wheezing laughter as Cherry had folded her arms.

“Darlington. Darlington, not Newcastle. And there’s been trains there for nearly two hundred years, love.”

That had just made Aurora laugh harder, clutching her stomach and shaking in silent giggles, leaning on Tayce as Tayce had led her back to her workbench and let her wipe the tears from her eyes before continuing with her biscuit dough.

That was the most important thing Tayce had learned so far in the tent. The woman from Nottingham opposite her was Aurora, and Aurora lit up the whole bench.

When the judges had stood with her earlier, she’d cooed about how much she adored baking everything for all her family - making fairy cakes for charity bakes for work, birthday cakes for her family, tipsy cakes for her best friends for their birthdays, or anniversaries, or whenever they were just feeling crap.

From the smile that she couldn’t hold back, Tayce knew that Aurora was the only person in the room who meant it when she said that she loved baking.

——

“One hour break, folks, and then filming starts for Technical, okay?”

The first bake was over, and Tayce’s shortbread biscuits shaped like dragons had gone down pretty well with the judges. She wasn’t sure if she’d had the best feedback, her nerves kicking in and blocking out most of the other contestants’ comments; but she thought she’d done enough for this round at least.

One of the producers herded them like sheep - or maybe cats, judging by how Ginny had gone chasing after a squirrel they’d seen - back into Norton Hall where they were all staying for the weekends while filming was happening. It was a huge, Georgian manor mouse with ceilings touching the clouds, far more halls than were necessary, and so many excessive bedrooms that each contestant had a room each.

Tayce had half-expected four-poster regal luxury as she’d opened the door to her own, twice the size of her room in her flat; but no such luck - it was furnished sparingly, and all the beds were normal. A small double, she noted. Not that she was likely to get lucky with these master bakers, but a woman could dream.

The floorboards creaked as she crossed the room and flopped backwards onto the bed, gazing at the ceiling, the elation sending a shiver through her skin as she realised again that she had made it to Bake Off.

The Bake Off!

They weren’t meant to change clothes between takes unless they’d made a huge mess with the food, so Tayce just retouched her eyeliner and went back down to the communal room, where most of them had gathered back in the group, polite conversations carrying on amongst relative strangers as they sampled each others’ biscuits.

What a surreal scene.

A group of almost strangers, half of their names unfamiliar, and she was meant to discuss baking with them all.

“Alright, babs?” She heard someone pushing a plate in front of her. “My name’s Ginny, Ginny Lemon, and if you don’t like lemon, well - just skip my biccies, alright love?”

“No, lemon is great,” Tayce forced a smile, taking one of Ginny’s biscuits. “Thanks hun.”

“You’re welcome! Which ones did you make - wait, I remember, the Welsh dragons?”

“Now how did you guess that one?” Tayce raised an eyebrow at them. “My mum’s idea, she was like, do it for the Welsh! So of course she found a dragon-shaped cookie cutter from somewhere. One of the tourist shops in Cardiff. Tourists love dragon biscuits apparently.”

“Oh I know love, I know - speaking of weird biscuits, have you ever tried a Worcester sauce biscuit? I don’t recommend it if you haven’t, but have you?” Ginny shook their head, tutting. “Tastes like shit! Waste of biscuit. Waste of Worcester sauce too, though. Anyway, Pip’s looking lonely without me. Nice to see you!”

And Ginny fled from Tayce’s arm, scurrying back over to Pip. Tayce tasted the biscuit, bracing herself for Worcester sauce, blinking with surprise to find it was actually pretty good, the lemon flavour really tasty, and finding she wanted another.

Most of the rest of the biscuits were arranged on a bench at the back. Tayce picked up another of her own and went down the line, eager to see which had depleted the most.

Gravestone biscuits were the biggest shocker for her - two different sets of biscuits were there, iced to resemble gravestones, mostly untouched - but Tayce politely picked up the better-looking of the two and found a lovely chilli kick to it when she tasted. But gravestones weren’t the only common theme - two different rose patterns were there, one set iced in different shades of pink, and the other with a deep red icing. The pink roses were almost all gone, and Tayce took the second-to-last one, enjoying the raspberry flavour, and grabbing one of the other roses to go.

Tayce peered around the room at the other contestants from her vantage point at the table. Most of them had dropped into twos and threes - with twelve people it was bound to happen - chatting amongst themselves, quietly and politely for the most part, although the two Scottish women in one corner were laughing as if they’d known each other for years.

Eventually, she joined Aurora, who was talking to someone whose white-blonde hair and pencil-thin eyebrows looked very familiar …

“Joe Black,” she said, extending a heavily-tattooed hand to Tayce, whose stomach flipped upon hearing the name.

“You’re - on Instagram, that woman -“

“My internet infamy precedes me, but in that case I hope so too do my bakes, and of course my sense of fun.” Joe’s voice was theatrical, her gestures affected; but her smile was warm, and Cherry looked as enamoured with her as Tayce was feeling.

“And who wins the biscuit version of the wars of the roses?” Joe continued, pointing down at the two rose-shaped iced biscuits on Tayce’s plate. “Lawrence, or Veronica? I must say, the amount that Veronica worried about her own bake, that time probably could have been spent thinking up a better biscuit flavour than rosewater, don’t you agree?”

Tayce glanced at Veronica’s biscuit, then up at Aurora. “Does it taste that bad?”

But before Aurora could answer, they were interrupted by “Alright, babes! How’s it hanging?”

The woman joining them had rich violet hair scraped off her face into a bun at the crown of her head, and an intense green stare. Tayce took the hand that was extended to her, finding a firmer handshake than Asttina’s, trying to follow the stream of words from this woman’s mouth.

“I’m Lauren, but you might as well call me Lawrence, that’s all Ellie’s been calling me all day, thinks she’s fucking hilarious, and I’ve not really met any of you yet because, you know,” Lawrence paused for breath, waving her hands, “baking contest, ooh I’m not here to make friends, et cetera, but now that we’re all here and we’re not baking right now, I thought I’d better find out who everyone is! Are you the one who made the dragon biccies?”

“That’s me, baby!” Tayce grinned. “Bore da, bitches!”

“See, I knew you were Welsh, and there Ellie was trying to convince me the dragon biccies were by someone who just really liked Puff the Magic Dragon, she owes me a tenner now - and you’re - oh wait, I know you!” Lawrence wagged her finger at Joe, whose expression didn’t change apart from the slow blink. “That Instagram video!”

Joe fixed Lawrence with a stare. “Yes, that Instagram video; I know that precedes me, but I hope by the end of this competition that can be eclipsed by my culinary skills.” Her voice still kept the throaty drawl, but Tayce was starting to sense her irritation at the association.

Cherry had already offered her hand to shake, and Lawrence took it. “Alright, I remember your name, because you put it in your biccies as flavouring! Where’re you from, do they grow cherries there?”

“No - I’m from Darlington.”

Lawrence blinked, frowning. “Darlington, near Sweetie-shire is that?”

“No, it’s near -“

“I’m joking babes, I’m joking! I know it’s - hey, hey Ellie!” Lawrence stopped to shout to Ellie, who had evidently reappeared. “Els! It’s not Puff the Magic Dragon! Where’s my tenner? Hey!” And she was gone in an instant, Tayce turning to watch her chase Ellie as she scurried out.

“Anyway,” Joe continued, motioning to Tayce’s plate and one of the gravestone biscuits, “I’m so glad you’re enjoying mine! I know my sense of humour is a little … ah, morbid, but I didn’t count on being one of two people with this bake, let me tell you that!”

Joe glanced over to the left out the sides of her eyes; Tayce followed her gaze to Pip, oblivious, making herself a cup of tea.

“She didn’t - like, you don’t think she -“

“Oh, no, not in a month of Sundays! But it’s a strange little coincidence, isn’t it? The viewers will love the drama!”

Joe opened her mouth wide to let out a violent cackle, a sound that might have made a shiver glide down Tayce’s spine if she hadn’t been mid-biscuit.

——

Technical: 8 Wagon Wheels

The Technical challenge was the first time Tayce felt her nerves return in a rush.

Everyone had identical ingredients and an identical recipe, but nothing prepared any of them for whipping the gingham cloth from them all and flipping the instructions over. Tayce ran her pencil down them, her head spinning.

On the first read, she recalled nothing.

Focus.

She took one steadying breath, letting go of as many nerves as she could, and then ran her pencil back down the list, jotting down timings and a couple of notes. They only had an hour and a half; precision was key.

On her right, Aurora was fidgeting with her apron, twisting her hair around her finger, before grabbing as many bowls as she could from the drawers and setting them all down ready.

It almost felt like more pressure, rather than less, having no judges in the room - just Matt and Noel, and they couldn’t really interact with the bakers at this point, mostly just talking amongst each other and having to film occasional silly quips for the television interludes.

You’re not gonna get this finished if you keep looking at Matt and Noel!

So Tayce mentally blocked out everything and anything around her, not taking her eyes off her workbench. Instructions, ingredients, whisk, repeat. Oven, timers, filling, cooling, done.

She barely remembered anything else that happened in the room.

As she put the last wagon wheel on the tray to take to the front, she wiped her brow, took a swig of tea, and then heard the immortal lines.

“Bakers! You have one minute to go!”

Tayce looked around the room. Tia, three desks ahead, was looking flustered, covered in flour from head to toe - a difficult feat when you were six feet tall - and Veronica, just behind her, was rounding the corner to help her move the biscuits over to the tray one by one as she spread on the jam and marshmallow fluff. Bimini, who Tayce was sure had finished about ten minutes earlier than everyone else, was doing the same thing for Asttina, leaning over her workbench and talking soothingly to her as they both moved biscuits around.

On the other side, Ginny was rubbing Pip’s back, trying to help her load wagon wheels onto the tray but only succeeding in knocking the handbag to the ground. Ellie broke two of her wagon wheels by dropping a palette knife on them, her squeak causing Lawrence to turn from her bench and put her hands on her hips.

But Tayce felt an unexpected wave of relief when she saw Aurora finishing her own biscuits right on schedule, stepping back with a sigh, rolling her head and her eyes to the ceiling.

They had to bring the biscuits to the front table, and put them behind their respective photographs for blind judging. Looking at the other biscuits on the bench, Tayce nodded to herself in satisfaction. She definitely wasn’t the worst. The photos were all a blur, but there was definitely one disaster, chocolate and marshmallow oozing; Ellie’s broken biscuits; and another tray with a biscuit missing.

It was easy to breathe a sigh of relief for herself.

“Just get into any order,” the producer said, pointing to the stools that had been set in front of the table, “but don’t sit directly behind your photo. Otherwise it just looks obvious.”

Tayce’s biscuits were second from the right, so she bunched towards the left, and found herself between Aurora and Joe. Joe had pretended to trip over her feet while carrying her own biscuits up, cackling gleefully at Veronica’s pained expression as she watched. Veronica, mercifully, had sat as far from Joe as she could.

Aurora was breathing rapidly next to her, and Tayce gave her a nudge with her knee.

“Chill girl! Relax! It will be fine!”

Aurora nodded, but said nothing, focusing on trying to breathe at a normal rate once again. Tayce could practically hear her heart hammering. She nudged her again playfully, and Aurora nudged her back, taking a deep breath out and seeming to calm from then.

Once Prue and Paul were back, Tayce grew a little sleepy. The judging went on for much longer than on telly, and tent was hot from all the baking and warm bodies, plus Aurora’s knee jogging rhythmically was enough to make her feel a little drowsy. Her biscuits were second to last, and Tayce wasn’t really focusing on any of the other critiques as they went down the line, not even those of the two women on either side of her.

She hated tents. They reminded her of camping. This one wasn’t like any of the camping tents, propped by firm wooden walls and decorations but it still reminded her of trips to the Gower when she was at primary school. And thinking of the Gower made her think of day-tripping to Tenby, where the air was hazy with salt and fresh fish, and the sea was far too cold as they skimmed stones, watching them bounce once, twice, three times …

A nudge at her side from Aurora brought her down from her reverie; blinking, Tayce saw the judges had reached the biscuits behind her photo, looking up expectantly to see who would claim them.

Oh, yeah. It’s the Technical, and I’m here to be judged.

She raised her hand, realising that she’d been in a dream so long that she didn’t even know what place the judges had called her for.

“Tayce - good flavour, biscuits had a good crunch, and the chocolate has set well; it just wasn’t quite filled enough.”

Nodding and smiling, she waited for them to move on to the next person before she leaned over towards Aurora, muttering from the corner of her mouth “Where did they put me again?”

But before Aurora could answer, Paul spoke up. “And in second place, we have -“

“You came third, you bitch!” Aurora whispered, her mouth open in awe, and she looped her hand into Tayce’s and squeezed. “How do you do it? You always look so put-together! Not like - Miss Second-Place down there.”

Tayce glanced at Veronica, right at the end of the line of bakers on their stools, whose hand was raised to claim second place. She was nodding earnestly at the praise, but she still wasn’t smiling, her lips tight and her other hand still quivering a little in her lap.

“That means that first place goes to - Asttina!”

But Aurora hadn’t let go of Tayce’s hand, and Tayce was suddenly more aware of that contact than whoever the winner was, even as she slowly drew her hand away for the polite applause that followed.

“Where did you come?” Tayce asked her in a whisper.

“Seventh. Not great. I over-baked them a little bit,” Aurora shrugged. “I’m never gonna be good at technical.”

——

“Congrats on coming top of Technical!” Tia clapped Asttina on the back as they came back into Norton Hall, and Asttina responded with her winning smile.

“Thanks, babe. I thought you all deserved a taste of what I can do!”

There was a collective amused murmur around the other bakers at Asttina’s slightly smug tone. Tayce grinned, staying silent for now, wondering what the others would have to say to that.

“Oh, there’s more to come, is there?” Tia continued.

“I should hope so.” Asttina licked her lips. “From all of you lot as well.”

“There’s no need to be cocky,” Veronica said, the first time any of them had really heard her speak. Veronica was tiny, with blonde hair and a nasal voice that was louder than any of them had expected; most likely feeling the sting of coming second.

Asttina shook her hair back. “I’m not cocky, Veronica, I just know what I can do. Read the CV, it’s all there! If you want to win stuff, you need to know yourself. Do you want to win?”

“Does the Pope shit in the woods?” Veronica retorted.

It was Tia’s snort of laughter that started them all off, diffusing the vague tension creeping into the room. Asttina’s laugh was only drowned out by Veronica’s as she realised what she’d said.

“Is the Pope a Catholic, does a bear shit in the woods … I know, I know. I mean, yeah, I definitely do want to win.”

Asttina shrugged. “Then there’s no point being modest about what you can do. Let your bakes do the talking!”

One of the producers came in at that moment, motioning for them all to come round, and they all bunched together.

“Alright folks, the day’s filming is done, we’ll begin tomorrow at nine sharp for the Showstopper challenges. Until then you’re free to relax and have a nice time - please don’t go into any areas marked as Private, and no excessive drinking, but otherwise, have a good night!”

“Thank you!” They chorused, clapping for some unknown reason, as some of the staff rounded up the leftover biscuits and cleared them away.

“The filming crew get them,” Veronica explained to Tia, “I asked earlier what happened to them all because I knew we wouldn’t be able to eat them all.”

“You know what this means?” Cherry said, addressing them all from on top of one of the sofas. “This is the last evening we’ll all be together. Let’s all cheers to the cast of GBBO!”

She pulled a bottle of something from her bag, and the rest of them grabbed a mug each, sharing out the gin Cherry had brought, and bringing all their drinks together in cheers.

——

Showstopper: A gingerbread sculpture of a place that makes you nostalgic.

The Showstopper was about as broad as you could get. Everyone seemed to have something different in mind. Bimini and Asttina, on the two front benches, looked as poised and confident as they had all the previous day; and Asttina, buoyed by her Technical challenge win, puffed her chest in pride.

Tayce had practised her gingerbread over and over, but nothing prepared any of them for being in the tent, where the pastel colours and the novelty of the bright, friendly conversations started to switch to a competitive edge.

Especially after the Technical, where they had all been ranked. Having a number against your name now, combined with a vague grade against the Signature challenge, meant the Showstopper was the be-all and end-all for some of them.

That was it Tayce thought to herself, as she watched Aurora’s grim determination pass her face every second.

And she wasn’t the only one.

Cherry, on the workbench in front of her, had come sixth; but she’d been much quieter all morning, concentrating on reading and re-reading her instructions, tapping her pencil against her chin and growling frustratedly every now and then.

Ellie, wearing a pair or Pip’s elf ears, was doing even worse. Being ranked eleventh had done very little to ease the nerves she had displayed the day before, and her morning had already started with another blue plaster on yet another finger.

But Aurora was the only person Tayce was concentrating on. Something about the way she’d held her hand … and Tayce was far too quick to let her mind run away without her, thinking it meant anything, when obviously it probably didn’t.

“What are you doing?” Tayce called to Aurora over the chatter of everyone else around the room; but Aurora didn’t reply, her tongue running over her lips as she surveyed the mess that was the butter and sugar mix before her.

“Aurora?” She asked, making her way to stand by her behind the bench.

Aurora was still silent, but the noise from the bowls and KitchenAid she was using spoke volumes for her without her needing to say a word.

“D’you want a cup of tea?” Tayce asked her eventually, waiting for the curt nod from Aurora before sprinting to the tea station, in a tent outside.

When she got back, Aurora had moved up to Ellie’s workbench, and even though her back was to Tayce, she could see her shoulders shaking and Ellie’s hand rubbing her back, before offering her a can of the Monster she always had to have, the label covered in masking tape to escape product placement.

Tayce approached them both to comfort Aurora too, but as she did, cameras zoomed in on all three of them. Aurora pushed them both away and walked out of the tent, covering her face.

Ellie looked from the camera to Tayce and then back again, confused more than anything, and Lawrence, turning from her bench, looked back at them all with a frown.

“What’s going on here? Is she alright?” Lawrence pointed to Aurora, who was busy wiping her tears away in the far corner, with Matt Lucas at her side and a camera in her face.

“No,” Tayce muttered, “and she won’t be while there’s a lens on her.”

After that, Tayce kept half an eye on Aurora as she baked. She mostly ignored the cameramen as they hurried around the tent, taking stock footage of them cutting gingerbread shapes, using their ovens, and decorating, but Tayce purposely kept her mouth tightly closed, and her expression firmly neutral.

As Noel called for ten minutes remaining, Tayce was finishing the detailing of the roof of the stadium. The band were meant to be playing biscuit instruments and there was meant to be a crowd, but Tayce had settled for calling it a backstage pass moment, where VIPs could meet them, and just made models of herself and her friends.

“Time is up! Bakers, step away from your bakes!”

Noel called time, and Tayce took a step back to properly admire her finished product - and really, she was blown away by her own bake. The gingerbread houses she’d made in practise had gone alright, but this one, even in the pressure cooker environment of the tent, had gone almost perfectly, down to the timing of the bakes.

“Wow,” Tayce whispered to herself, “week one is done!”

She took a few seconds to admire everyone else’s in the tent. Some were much better than others. Joe’s looked a little strange - she’d meant to do a wedding scene with the gingerbread church, but the roof was crooked, and the gravestones falling over, not supported by the sticky sugar mixture they’d all used as adhesive. Cherry’s ambitious building was incomplete, and Tayce didn’t even know what it was meant to be.

But Asttina’s was incredible - a beautiful beach scene with a model of a beach hut and even a Ferris wheel. Ellie’s technical slip up was definitely repaired by the pub she’d built, adding fondant banners inside and making the dull gingerbread colours come alive with her imaginative take on the icing outside; while Lawrence had made a theatre, melting jelly babies to create beautiful stained glass in the windows, something Tayce kicked herself for not thinking of.

They all had a chance to leave the tent for a break, to sit outside in the shelter, and to have a breather before the actual judging of the bakes was done.

“I don’t envy the judges,” Joe said, her drawling voice awed, as she took in all of the gingerbread houses from their vantage point outside the tent. “They definitely have their work cut out for them, don’t they?”

“Everyone did amazing,” Aurora nodded, “it’s just a case of who did less amazing. D’you reckon they’ll just take this into account, or the whole weekend?”

Tayce didn’t know why she was worrying. Aurora had come middle of the pack in technical, but had been praised for her Signature, and her gingerbread house - modelled on her Nan’s, she had said - was so prim and dainty that Tayce knew the judges were going to eat it up, and not only literally.

“It won’t be you, chillax!” Tayce reached to rub her hand.

“Who d’you reckon it will be then?”

“Well, they tend to take into account the numbers assigned at the Technical challenge, and the Signature comments, to make the first analysis, at least,” Joe chuckled, “that’s what we see on the television. Who were the bottom three for Technical? I was tenth, Ellie was eleventh, who was twelfth again?”

“It’s - erm,” Aurora pointed, but the name escaped her for a second. “Tia. Tia was twelfth.”

“It’s probably between the three of us, then,” Joe said brightly, “unless something goes … horribly wrong to one of the Showstoppers. And how likely is that?”

As they looked through the panels of the tent, one of the gingerbread houses collapsed into pieces onto the tray it was set on.

Tayce glanced around the other eleven bakers to see whose it was.

One of the bakers had her head in her hands, shoulders tensed, while the two people on either side of her hugged her tightly.

——

“Seriously, Joe, how did you make that happen?” Aurora’s voice was hushed, tense, after the award for Star Baker and the first elimination had taken place.

Joe’s eyes widened as she shook her head. “I don’t quite know - maybe it was just something, spoken into the universe, made to happen.”

“Or maybe it was just gravity and shitty caramelised sugar sticking it all together,” Tayce added.

“Yes,” Joe replied, “or that too.”

Joe, Ellie and Tia had all survived their stint in the bottom at Technical - but Pip, who had come ninth in Technical, and whose Signature had received mediocre feedback, had laughed behind gritted teeth at presenting her collapsed gingerbread house - “More of an Ikea house,” Paul had commented cheerily - which had ultimately turned out to be too hard to bite into and had sealed her fate. Not even the lucky elf ears saved her from the first elimination.

“I was so sure I was going home this week,” Aurora sighed later that night, back at Norton Hall, where everyone had eaten so much of each others’ gingerbread houses that they all felt ill.

“You wouldn’t have, yours was good!” Tayce rubbed her arm. “Relax! It’s done now. Just focus on next week instead.”

“And I can’t believe Prue said she’d like to try a bit of carpet when they were looking at Ellie’s pub,” Aurora said, shaking her head. “Did anyone else catch that?”

“Yeah, I did!” Tayce sniggered. “They’re so innocent! This is just gonna be a load of innuendos all season, isn’t it? Imagine what they’re gonna say for next week too.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s cake week, isn’t it?” Aurora seemed to perk up. “That’s a bit more my comfort zone.”

Suddenly the door opened, and Asttina was led back inside the area by the cameraman and a producer. Everyone broke into applause - this time genuine, not the muted, polite sound that had echoed round the tent in the technical. Asttina had just given her winner’s interview and called her family, and now wore the Star Baker badge proudly on the lapel of her jacket, her grin wider than the Cheshire Cat’s.

“How did your mum react when you said you were Star Baker this week?” Bimini asked her.

Asttina smiled the warmest smile any of them had seen all weekend from her at the mention of her family. “They screamed so loud that you probably all heard it in here. My mum was falling off the sofa, my dad was waving a wooden spoon, my brother was banging on the floor with his feet - oh, it was great.”

“Well-deserved, babes,” Bimini nodded, and Asttina pulled them in for a hug.

Everyone else was clamouring around Asttina, congratulating her on her Star Baker win this week and admiring the badge she’d won - biscuit-shaped, or at least cookie-shaped - but Tayce hung back, exchanging a glance with Aurora, a glint in her eye; and both of them knew what the other was thinking.

Let’s not cross Joe Black. She might make our Showstoppers crumble.

——

ELEVEN BAKERS REMAIN

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sleepless-stories · 3 years

Text

A Call For Help |8

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Summary: Starlight is called to an Emergency and is met there by Phantom there, who just trying to protect himself and his friends.

Warnings: Blood/Gore, Death/Killing, Threats, Panic Attacks _____________

The entire front entrance of the building seemingly had been blown out. The building was a rental hall for parties, specifically those for the elite. Today they were holding a large meeting, that seemingly got interrupted.

Logan stood in front of the building holding his book looking up at the looming hole where the entrance would’ve been. He didn’t know what was going on in there… but it was something bad. He ran a hand through his bright white hair before walking into the place. He pulled a shield from his book as a precaution before entering. “This is Starlight! I heard there was an emergency!”

There was silence, nobody answered the hero, instead Logan was met with eerie silence.

Starlight went up the steps in front of him. Climbing step by step. Something wasn’t right, something here was wrong. There were supposed to be at least 80 people here. But yet…. It was silent, there were no signs of life. Starlight held the shield closely, walking down the halls looking around for someone, anyone. He saw two large doors at the end of the hall, the grand hall most likely he went over to the doors pushing one open carefully.

Inside people sat huddled in the middle of the room cowering, all of them silent and scared.

Starlight walked further in and saw that the room was unusually dark, shrouded by… shadows.

Phantom stepped out of the shadows beside him, “You shouldn’t have come.” he said softly before falling back into the shadows. He appeared behind the group of people and pulled shadows closer around him and the group.

“Phantom? What…. What are you doing? What’s happening?”

“Why are you here!” Phantom yelled.

“Because I’m a hero… and I heard people were being harmed.”

“They weren’t but now… now they have to be.” Phantom said with hesitation in his voice.

Starlight noticed the hesitation and reached out before suddenly the hostages were covered in shadows. “Phantom!”

A large black cat jumped out from the shadows, Phantom. He growled circling Starlight.

“What is going on! This isn’t like you.”

Phantom shifted back and shook his head, “You don’t know me!”

“Yes, I do…” Logan dropped his shield slowly approaching, “What is going on.”

Phantom looked around before closing his eyes, he… he had to proceed. As ordered. “Nothing.” he said and flicked his wrist.

Screams erupted from the shadows, agony.

Starlight’s eyes widened, “What are you-”

Phantom wrapped shadows around Starlight and shook his head. “I am sorry.” he mumbled, then flung Starlight to the side of the room. Plunging him into an ever growing abyss of darkness. Phantom stood there in the middle of the room looking towards where the hostages had been before shifting into his panther form once again and jumping into the dark shroud around the hostages.

Screams.

Screams filled the room.

Then …. Nothing but silence.

The shadows retracted, the light filling the room again as Phantom stood in the center of the hostages, 50… 50 dead of the 80.

Starlight looked around, his eyes adjusting as the darkness fled. He looked over seeing a pool of blood seeping out from under the hostages and Phantom, standing there… blood dripping off of him. Tears filled his eyes… this wasn’t his Phantom… “Vir- Phantom… what have you done.” He asked softly, cautiously walking over.

Phantom bent down lifting up one of the dead bodies before looking at Starlight dropping the body, “I saved… myself.”

Starlight stared in horror. “You really are a villain!” He screamed as he saw Phantom just disappear from the room, washed away with the darkness.

Starlight rushed over to the hostages, “It’ll be alright, help is on it’s way.” he assured them, trying to stay strong. He helped up the living, getting them moved to the side of the room, the 30 left. He pulled chairs out of his book for them all then went over standing over the bodies. “Why…” he whispered, staring down at them. “Why’d you do this to them?”

Slowly he conjured body bags from the book and put each person carefully in one.

Ems just started to arrive at the horrific scene. Beginning to help the living.

____________

Virgil left the room, guilt and panic hitting him. Lo- Starlight was right… he really was a villain.

He pulled himself out in an alley, falling to the ground. His hands and face covered in blood, he was soaked in it practically.

They were dead…

He killed…

He killed 50 people…

Just so he could ensure his friends survived and were unharmed…

What kind of monster did that?

Virgil ripped off his mask trying to catch his breath. He could barely process all that just happened. All that he had just done… What had he done?

He felt like he was going through every stage of grief all at once.

He killed people! Why did he go through with all of this to protect them?! But…

But he had only been following orders…

It wasn’t his fau-

Yes… it was!

He was the one to do it in the end. Not the villain who he still had no name of. The villain who was threatening him.

Virgil rested his hands on his face as his mind raced through thoughts, not slowing down. It just kept going and going. Relentlessly.

He couldn’t breathe… he shouldn’t breathe.

Why should he? He killed so many...

Virgil’s train of thought kept going, not giving him a break. He took a deep breath trying to just focus, to just snap out of it… but he couldn't. He wasn’t even sure for himself what had happened in that room, honestly. It all happened far too fast, from this morning when he got the orders to now. It all went too fast. Now… Now what was he doing? Cowering in an alley because of grief, and because of a panic attack?

Virgil slowly pushed himself up off of the ground, picking his mask up off the ground as he stood. He was about to leave when he heard something behind him… clapping. Slow, congratulatory clapping. “Good job, I must commend you, Phantom. I didn’t think you actually had it in you. But look at this! You succeeded! I assume you killed everyone on the list?”

“Y-yes…” Virgil nodded, biting his lip, keeping his back to the villain. “I did it… Can I be sure you won’t harm my friends now?”

“Oh… naive Phantom, you could never be sure I wouldn’t harm your friends. Who knows, they might have already been harmed. When did you last talk to your friend… Patton?”

Virgil snapped around looking at the villain in horror, “You… no… We-we had a deal! I do this and you don’t touch them!”

“Oh, well... Oopsy.” The villain smiled giggling a bit joyfully as he shrugged nonchalantly.

Virgil pulled shadows around his hand as he rushed at the villain pinning them to the wall, holding his dagger of shadows to the guy’s neck. “You better not have hurt them.” He growled.

The villain just smirked, “Well… you’ll never know I guess. Unless you call them… or maybe… maybe you should call the hospital?” He suggested laughing maniacally.

Virgil growled and quickly moved his arm to stab into the villain, only for himself to be suddenly and forcefully pulled by the ground. He was shoved against the other wall of the alley, harshly. The concrete of the sidewalks coming up and holding him against the wall. “Oh Phantom, Phantom, Phantom… you didn’t think you could best me that easily?”

Virgil glared at him as the concrete slowly crept higher up his body, up to his neck. He took a deep breath, fear filling him as he felt it not stopping.

“I’m offended! And you know what! I don’t think I need you anymore! I could just rise from the works just as everyone recovers, just as everyone starts feeling safe. I will pop out of the shadows, no wait.” The Villain laughed, grinning, “No that’s your thing, I will come out of the concrete. Then bring this city right back to where it was when you first appeared, chaos.” The guy cackled. “I will rise from the ashes as, Kraken… nobody will come against me! Oh and your precious Starlight, he won’t last very long.” Kraken reached forward grabbing Phantom’s chin and leaning in close to his ear, “Goodbye Phantom.” he whispered.

“I… don’t think so.” A calm voice said down the alley. The clicking of heals sounded as they slowly walked down the alley. “Hello Kraken… Miss me?” A guy asked, tilting his hat then looking up, half his face covered in snake scales with a shining yellow serpentine eye. He wore a black suit with a small cape, yellow accents and details throughout, boots with heels on their feet.

Kraken instantly took a step back staring. “So the legend lives?”

“And you won’t live long enough for your grand debut.”

“Oh you want to bet?” Kraken growled before releasing Phantom and throwing him forward at the newcomer before he disappeared, melting into the pavement.

The newcomer caught Phantom and cursed as he saw Kraken disappear. “And just like that… that… that octopus! Got away, again.” he growled under his breath gritting his teeth before looking at Phantom and giving him a good once over, “Hello.”

“H-Hi…” Virgil nodded, ripping himself from the other’s arms and staring, “Who are you?”

“That doesn’t matter for right now.”

“The last person who told me that just tried to kill me.” Virgil growled glaring. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like you to tell me who you are, now!”

“Phantom, calm yourself… you could… you could call me Serpent for now.”

“Fine… serpent. Thank you…” He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Are you alright?” The other asked, his voice softening as he reached out towards Phantom noticing he was a bit off balance.

Virgil looked up at him, “Yes… I’ll be fine, nothing I haven’t had to deal with. But I have to go…” Virgil said, shaking his head taking a few steps back. “Someone I know… they might be dying and in trouble. I need to make sure they’re alright.”

“Of course Phantom, we’ll see each other again soon. I know we will.”

Virgil stared at him in silence for a minute. “Yeah sure we will, Serpent. Next time will you tell me more about yourself?”

“Of course, just not here… not now, this isn’t the place..” He shook his head. “Perhaps somewhere more quiet.”

Virgil nodded, sighing, “Alright.” he nodded.

Serpent reached forward grabbing Phantom’s arm, “tomorrow, meet me at 5th and 3rd, 7pm sharp. Dress smart.” he told him with a smirk. Serpent nodded as if confirming his own words for himself before letting go of Phantom’s arm.

Virgil nodded, “Alright… I’ll remember.” He said stepping back then falling back letting the shadows overtake him.

Peace and serenity hit him. The wonderful silence. Bringing him away from the honking cars, the chaos of the city. Taking him from danger… but going to potential sorrow. He quickly traveled across the town. Going to Patton’s. He let himself out of the shadows in front of the door. He slipped on his mask before grabbing the door knob. It was unlocked.

Phantom pushed the door open slowly and walked inside. He looked around not seeing anyone. Phantom sighed, hoping everything was alright. He went into the living room area and paused hearing something, he slowly turned and smiled.

Patton was laying on the couch, fast asleep. A collection of snacks on the coffee table.

Phantom sighed in relief, he went to the door, shutting and locking it. He stayed for a while watching his friend sleep… safely. After a few hours he left, going to his own home. To figure everything out.

Virgil came out the shadows at home and pulled off his blood cover suit walking to the bathroom. He turned on the shower, getting in without waiting. He felt like he was covered in all of their blood and that none of it was coming off. Virgil took a deep breath.

He quickly finished up and dried off before getting dressed. He went and sat on his couch, not moving from there till morning, letting the tv distract his thoughts.

_________________________

General Tag List

@crazy-multifandomfangirl

@aceawkwardunicorn

@mistythegenderqueermess

_______________________

A Call For Help

@star-crossed-shipper

@simplyapannightmare

Apparently I never actually tagged anyone before sooo yeah

#A CALL FOR HELP #logan sanders #ts logan #hero!Logan #virgil sanders #ts virgil #villain!Virgil #villain!Remus #ts janus #patton sanders mention #tw blood #tw blood and gore #tw killing #tw death #tw death mention #tw threats #TW panic attack

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colehasapen · 4 years

Text

(ONE SHOT) kadala STAR WARS

Fox wakes up.

After everything, he's not expecting to. Not after what he had done - how uncharacteristically stupid he had been. He had done what he had, expecting to die, to be killed so that the nightmares would end and his brothers would be saved - it's what he deserves, after what the Chancellor had made him do. His brothers would see a future, he had made sure of it, but it wasn't a future for Fox, not with all the people he had killed, even if he hadn't meant to.

They haunt him. They scream in his dreams and he can feel their blood on his hands, he can see their faces every time he closes his eyes. He sees them as they were as they died, killed by his hands and with his weapons. It’s not always the same people haunting his nightmares, they’re interchangeable and they blend together - there’s been so many of them - but there’s always one that stays, clear and loud and there.

Fives.

Fives with his frantic voice, with his wild conspiracy and dilated eyes, and the gaping, burning hole in his chest, blackening the otherwise plain plastoid. The hole Fox put there. It never should have happened - it was supposed to stun, he had turned his blaster to stun as soon as he heard it was a brother the Guard were going after - and maybe that’s why Fox couldn’t forget his words or chase the ghost of the dead ARC from his thoughts. The more he thought about him, the less crazy Fives had seemed. The hate-filled eyes of his brothers followed him through his days, accusing - because he had committed the worst sort of crime against his brothers, he had killed one of them - and Fox doesn’t bother trying to keep them at bay. They hate him, and Fox doesn’t blame them. He hates himself too. It could have been the weeks of lost sleep or maybe the patchy memories he couldn’t string together, but Fox found himself continuing the dead man’s investigation, chasing rumours and diving into the darkest parts of the Republic.

What he had found only made Fox hate himself more.

Fives had been right , and Fox had killed him. He had killed the brother who had been trying to save them all. His brothers were dying in droves, and it was Fox’s fault. By killing Fives before he could bring the knowledge of what the Chancellor was to the Jedi, Fox had all but signed the death warrant of the Republic and allowed Palpatine to keep the power he was using to control the war from both sides.

Fox had known immediately what he had needed to do. He had compiled all the data into a single file, written out his goodbyes, and set it all to send on a timer. Then he had left to confront the Chancellor, never letting on to the Guard what was going on - but with Thorn marching on no one gave him a second look, no one would worry about his comings and goings - and looking to buy his brothers time to receive and read the results of his investigation. They would pass it on, Fox knows, because it was a threat to their men and their Jedi. Fox had never had a Jedi, never understood the love his brothers had for them, but he’s seen the way so many look at their Generals, how many of them love their Jedi Commanders, and he knows that they’d protect them.

They would be able to save themselves, and build the futures they all hadn’t dared to dream of. Fox wouldn’t be part of it, didn’t deserve to be part of it, but he was fine with it. He would die to ensure his brothers would be free, as a final apology to Fives, and to Rex, who had had to watch his vod’ika die in his arms - something none of them deserved, and it was especially heinous that he had had to deal with the trauma of knowing his brother was killed by his ori’vod. They may never have been especially close, not like he had been with Cody or Wolffe, but it was hard not to remember the little blond cadet Cody had brought back to their bunks all those years ago whenever he looked at the confident and scarred Captain Rex’ika had become. Rex couldn’t look at him anymore, not without a burning hatred in his eyes, and Cody and Wolffe were rarely ever on Coruscant, even if they had wanted to see him - which Fox doubts. Neither of them would love a brother-killer, not after the Malevolence and not after Sergeant Slick’s cold-blooded betrayal.

He doesn’t deserve their forgiveness, would never receive it, but apologizing for what he had done took some weight off his shoulders before his inevitable death. He had marched into Chancellor Palpatine’s office prepared to die, but at least he’d been able to warn his family, to share what he had found. He had thought that, at best, the Chancellor would have him killed then and there, that he would summon his Guard like he had with Fives. Fox hadn’t been expecting the man to throw lightning out of his fingers, and it hadn’t even registered until the burning pain tore through him, boiling his blood in his veins until the world went white.

Then he woke up.

He didn’t die, and Fox’s scattered, foggy mind has a hard time coming to terms with the fact. He blinks groggily into the darkness, body alight in agony, and he has a moment of overwhelming terror. He can’t see - where is he - why can’t he see?

Fox gasps, bile and blood burning the back of his throat as he chokes and wheezes, eyes rolling desperately, trying to see anything at all - but it’s just darkness. Fox forces himself to calm down, to categorize what he can tell of his situation as he had been trained for. His limbs are shaking, and he feels like he’s been flayed open alive. From what he can tell, he’s slumped against cold metal, arms held above his head by heavy manacles, and the chains clatter with every tremor that shakes his sprawled frame. His legs tingle uselessly, but he can still move them - or at least he thinks he can, from the sound of plastoid dragging across the metal floor - so the Chancellor’s attack hadn’t paralyzed him. He feels like he had been stabbed multiple times, then lit on fire and left to suffer.

Fox isn’t sure how he isn’t dead yet - better yet, he doesn’t know why he isn’t dead yet. Instead, he’s chained in some dark, stale room that tastes of badly recycled air and smells like blood. He doesn’t know how long he’s been here, or how long he will be here, with his arms going numb as gravity pushes the blood from the suspended limbs. The only courtesy he’s been shown is that he wasn’t chained standing up. With nothing else to do, Fox is left to drift.

He drifts in and out of consciousness, wondering, despite himself, what was going to happen to him. He drifts, and he dreams - and as time continues to pass without anything to mark the passage besides his own overwhelming hunger and thirst, Fox wonders if anyone will come. He knows, deep down, that he won’t be rescued, but it brings him a dark sort of amusement to think of Palpatine coming back to torture him to find his dead body here. He wants to die.

And yet he doesn’t.

He continues to cling to life - a life he doesn’t deserve. It’s almost funny that after so many casualties, that it’s Fox who can’t seem to die. It’s Fox who continues to close his eyes, hoping that he’ll finally march on, only to open his eyes once more and curse the world. Why was it him who wouldn’t die, when there were so many good men who deserved to live more than him. Men like Thorn, who had hope no matter how bad it got, and who’s mangled body had been left for the wildlife to eat. Men like Fives, who had tried so desperately to save everyone, but would never see the fall of the man who had been pulling all the strings.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been since the first time he woke up, but Fox finds himself flung back into his body by the sudden overwhelming presence of noise after so long of just the sound of his own rasping breath. Light burns against his eyelids. There are warm hands pressing against the burnt skin of his neck, drawing him close to a firm chest. Fox tries to flinch away on instinct, fighting against the hold - how long had it been since someone had touched him? Had it been when that last time Thorn had last clapped him on the shoulder and promised to see him soon? - and a rushed, familiar voice washes over him.

“Fox. Fox.” Someone says, as his arms are gently lowered one by one by another pair of hands. “ Udesii, ori’vod. Udesii, ni olar, Fox.” Fox sucks in a ragged, gasping breath, body quivering, and he coughs around a dry, bloody throat. He can’t bring himself to open his eyes, afraid that it’ll all melt away into darkness once again. “You did it, Fox. You did it.”

His voice rasps when he speaks, rough with disuse, “Me'bana?”

“Palpatine is gone, vod.” Fox shivers, and agonizingly slowly, he forces his eyes to open. An orange pauldron meets his gaze, and Fox nearly sobs.

“Cody.”

“Yeah, ori’vod.” Cody chokes, and Fox suddenly realizes that he’s not the only one who’s shaking. “I’m here. And if you ever do something like this again I’m going to kick your ass. You’re not allowed to march on yet, vod.”

Fox chuckles wetly, turning his head to press his nose against the rough fabric of his brother’s blacks, ignoring the uncomfortable press of cold plastoid against his ravaged body because it’s something other than the cold metal he had had to deal with for so long. “Ni ceta.”

“Udesii.” His little brother breaths, voice thick, pressing his face into Fox’s no doubt greasy hair. “You have nothing to apologize for, Fox. As long as you’re alive.” Cody shivers again, and Fox forces his laden arms to rise, ignoring the fogginess of unconsciousness rising up to drown him once again, and he clumsily wraps them around his brother’s hips like he had all those years ago when Kote would crawl into his pod during summer storms. “You stopped him, Fox. He can’t hurt you anymore - he can’t hurt anyone anymore.”

“Good.”

“Sleep, vod.” Cody murmurs, curling around him protectively. “You’re safe.”

Fox sleeps.

#star wars #fanfiction #cole writes #whumptober 2020 #no.1 let's hang out sometime #commander fox #commander cody #whump #waking up restrained #shackled #fix-it

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johnbly · 3 years

Text

[FIC] a secret and a scarf

Summary: The winter festival has arrived, and Dirsteh has big plans with Claude and Silas both.

Word Count: 2,432

(this is my piece for @summonersecretsanta for @lesterderosso! i combined several of your prompts so that summoner!dirsteh gets the complete experience B) i hope you enjoy, and happy holidays!)

Like any other mission, setting up for the winter festival in Askr is an efficient operation. Everyone has their roles -- and Dirsteh works perhaps the hardest of anyone. At the moment, she sits at her desk, which is covered with paper scraps of various shapes and paper snowflakes. How is it that there are so many Heroes in Askr and yet the holiday decorations are sorely lacking? There’s always the option of buying fancy ones with leftover Order of Heroes funds, but Dirsteh wants there to be a personal touch. Hence her crafts.

She folds a clean sheet of paper into fourths, then lifts the scissors. Cutting out shapes without much thought, she wonders what else she can do. There are already many Heroes on baking duty, and she’s seen others working with trees. When she’s made enough snowflakes, maybe she can go downstairs and see if anyone needs help as she hangs the decorations up.

The snow continues to fall outside Dirsteh’s window, as it has for most of the day. Her Summoner outfit is insulated, but when there are so many activities to do inside the warm castle, there’s no real reason to deal with the outside elements. At least, not yet.

There’s still one very important job that she’s aware of. Everyone knows the story of the winter festival envoy, and for those who haven’t, Sharena is very quick to educate them. Due to the secrecy of it all, Dirsteh isn’t sure if anyone has picked up the job. Surely someone has. But on the other hand, it’s not as if there can only be one. As she unfolds the paper to see how the snowflake turns out, she wonders who the most likely envoy is.

Wait.

She can be a winter festival envoy. It’ll be a fun challenge, finding gifts for everyone and delivering them in secret. She’ll need help, but there’s no shortage of people around. Surely some are available and willing. Before she checks with the general population of Heroes, though, she has the perfect first option in mind. Winter festival envoys need to be clever in picking gifts and delivering them. Who better to team up with than Claude? Hopefully he doesn’t already have plans.

Dirsteh stands and hurries past her desk so quickly that a breeze knocks some of the papers to the floor. She’ll pick them up later. Pulling on her coat, she rushes to her door and grips the knob. Where will be the best place to find her partner in crime? Perhaps she can start at the wyvern stables, and --

“In a rush?”

Or she can find him right at her door once she opens it.

“Claude!” she greets. “Perfect. I was just coming to look for you.”

“That works out well, because I came to talk to you.”

She gestures at the nameplate on her door with a teasing smile. “Gee, I never would have guessed that you were looking for me, with you showing up at my door and all.”

“I don’t know how I keep up with you,” Claude sighs, amusement plain in his tone. “You’re too smart for me.”

Affectionately, she shoves him. Now that he’s here, they have easy access to a private place to discuss her plan. She steps aside to let him in her room before closing the door behind him. It’s then she notices the mess she’s made on the floor. Snowflakes in various stages of completion litter the wood along with scraps. She can almost feel the judgment of her succulents from their shelves.

Claude bends down and begins returning the paper to her desk. “You might want to tell someone that your ceiling is leaking snow.”

“If it happens again, I will,” Dirsteh says, playing along as she picks up the rest. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

“I’ve heard a lot of talk about the winter festival envoy and --”

“You thought we should do it?”

“If you had the same idea, then it has to be a good one.”

Clapping her hands together, she grins. “It’s perfect. Between the two of us, we’ll be able to find the right gifts for everyone, and going on your wyvern to deliver them will keep us hidden.”

“That’s what I was thinking. We make a good team, Dirsteh.”

“That we do. Now come on, Mr. Master Tactician.” She grabs his arm and pulls him to the door. “We have gifts to figure out and buy.”

---

The sheer amount of offerings in the market makes gift-buying difficult. Dirsteh and Claude come up with multiple ideas for everyone from Heroes to strangers in the villages. It’s tempting to simply buy everything. But the winter festival envoy is famous for knowing just what to give, so the two are determined to put thought into every purchase.

To avoid carrying a suspicious load of gifts in broad daylight, they make multiple trips. Claude’s wyvern makes dropping the presents off in Dirsteh’s room and returning to the market easy. It’s a good test run for later that night.

“Is that everything?” she asks as the wyvern carries her, Claude, and a potentially final bag of gifts back to the castle.

“If it’s not, the merchants are in trouble of selling out of their stock,” Claude says. “We’ll find out as soon as we sort everything.”

Dirsteh hums in agreement, a sound that would’ve been lost in the skies if not for her sitting so close to him. Apart from the height, riding a wyvern is much like a horse. She keeps her hands on Claude’s waist for balance. Whenever the wyvern takes off or begins a descent, she hugs him tightly. Falling off a wyvern is not on her holiday wishlist -- or any wishlist, for that matter.

Once they reach the castle, the wyvern hovers outside her window. As before, Claude pulls it open and sets the bag of gifts inside. Without fear, he climbs into the room. Dirsteh waits until he reaches out for her before she scoots to the edge of the wyvern. It flies off to the stables once she’s safely inside.

“We should pull aside all the Heroes’ gifts first,” she suggests, shutting the window. “We know all of them, so it’ll be easier.”

He nods. “That way we won’t accidentally give a villager something for a Hero.”

“Imagine if we gave a child villager that hunting knife.”

“Then I guess we’d have ourselves a new Hero.”

As the two begin sorting through the presents, they spot more opportunities for jokes. What if they give an experienced and hardened Hero a rubber duck? Or a shiny new shield to a farmer? Dirsteh gains a new respect for the envoys of the past. It’s not an easy job, but picturing the joy on the faces of all the recipients brings a smile to her face -- even when the sorting and wrapping takes them right to sunset.

“It’s a good thing that it looks like we have all we need,” she says. “I don’t know if we’d have time to go out and buy more.”

“The merchants have likely closed up early anyways to be with their families,” Claude adds.

“And we should be getting to the feast before anyone misses us. We can’t lose the element of surprise now.”

“We’ll be the best-kept winter festival secret in Askr’s history.”

Making sure to put the gifts out of view of the window, the two step out of Dirsteh’s room. She double-checks that the door is locked. Everything is going perfectly so far, and she doesn’t want so much as a single Hero to guess who’s responsible for the gift they’ll be waking up to on the morning of the winter festival.

It’ll be a late night, but she doesn’t mind. She’ll be doing something enjoyable with one of her favorite people in the realm. What else can she ask for?

---

The next morning, now that her duties as an envoy are over, Dirsteh is ready to just be Dirsteh. There are still some things around the castle that need to be done, she��s sure, but it’s the winter festival and she hasn’t been able to spend any time with Silas yet. Giving the children of the villages something to smile about is good. Being in the presence of her partner will be great.

It will be convenient if she finds him in the same way she had Claude. Her luck probably won’t be that good twice. He’s most likely to be somewhere in the castle -- that or out on a patrol, in which case she won’t be able to find him until he’s back -- so she walks through the halls. She asks each Hero she passes if they’ve seen him. Most don’t have an answer other than I’m not sure, sorry.

But eventually, Dirsteh hears that Silas is indeed out on patrol. He’d left some time ago, though, so he’s expected to return soon. Maybe by the time she makes it to the stables he’ll have arrived. Thanking the Hero for their help, she returns outside. The snow is still falling, making her wonder if someone from Nifl has done something to ensure the winter festival is a snow-filled one.

That or some winter festival magic, the same that is surely responsible for her so easily locating Claude earlier, and now reaching the stables right as Silas rides up on his horse.

“Good timing,” Dirsteh greets. “How was the patrol?”

“Quiet, thankfully.” He steps down and leads his horse into the building. “Perhaps even our enemies have a winter festival to keep them busy today.”

She follows after him. The stable’s warmth is even more apparent on a cold day. After he runs his hand down the horse’s neck, he passes the lead to Lilith, who’s happy to have another animal to look after. Dirsteh is sure the horses and wyverns and pegasi will be just as spoiled on this winter festival as their people.

Side by side, she and Silas walk back outside. With his patrol over and her Summoning duties temporarily aside, they have as much time together as they’d like to take. And she suspects she’s not the only one who wants to take every minute they can. Instead of returning to the castle, they silently agree to take a stroll around the grounds. It’s more private, and there’s something romantic about an outdoor walk.

The snow crunches under their boots. It’s the only sound they hear once they move further from the stables and into more open land. Askr is beautiful in all seasons, but there’s a different kind of beauty in the quiet of winter.

“Dirsteh, aren’t you cold?” Silas asks, stopping suddenly.

She breaks from her thoughts. In her rush to meet him, she’d neglected to put on any layers over her robe. That same excitement had kept her warm. But now, just standing with Silas out in the snow, the chill begins to sneak under her clothes. Before she can answer, he steps closer. He shifts his scarf so there’s a long free section. Dirsteh’s cheeks pinken -- and not from the cold -- when he carefully wraps the extra bit of scarf around her neck.

“Thank you,” she says.

“You’re welcome.” He presses a kiss to her forehead. “I don’t want you freezing into a popsicle.”

“That would be inconvenient.”

They settle into a comfortable silence, the snow floating peacefully around them. She’s not sure who initiates it, but their hands link together. Another point of warmth. Beyond the physical contact and clothes, simply being with Silas warms her spirit more than anything.

“Would you still love me if I was a popsicle?” she teases.

The absurdity of the question forces a laugh out of Silas. “Of course I would. But please, don’t take that as an invitation to become one.”

“I won’t. Being a popsicle sounds boring, especially when there’s so much to do here.”

“We’d all be lost without you.” Silas pauses. “Me in particular.”

Dirsteh looks up at him. His face is pink now, almost as if she’d passed her blush onto him. Sometimes she forgets how much they love each other. It’s a strange thing to think, but little moments like these remind her of how much they’ve gone through together. Between finding their place in Askr and facing down enemies, they’ve formed bonds that only continue to tighten. Here she is, trying to joke about becoming a popsicle, and Silas gazes at her like she’s the greatest gift he can ever imagine.

“Well,” she says, getting up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek, “no one needs to worry, and definitely not you. The only popsicles here will be the ones we have in the summer.”

“I’m relieved to hear it, though it’s hard to think about summer with all of this snow.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

Over the last minutes, the snowfall’s pace has increased. More flakes nestle into their hair, standing out against Dirsteh’s and nearly blending in with Silas’. She can’t help but run her fingers through his hair to shift some of the snow off. Ordinarily she isn’t so affectionate with him out in the open, but between the snow screen and all of the other holiday festivities, she doubts anyone is around to see them.

“I’m glad we’re spending another holiday together, Dirsteh,” Silas says. “Everything is better when I’m with you.”

She smiles. “I’m glad too. It’s easier to leave some work aside when I know it’s for spending time with you.”

“Still overworking yourself during the holidays?”

“Maybe a little...but you know me. And some of that was to give gifts to the children in the villages! You can’t tell me you want to steal gifts from the children, Silas.”

“No, I suppose not.” Silas cups her cheek with a gloved hand. “And you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t aid people whenever you had the chance.”

She’s always appreciated how he walks the line between allowing her to help others in need and ensuring that she doesn’t forget to care for herself too. But now, of course, it’s just her and her knight, and she doesn’t intend to waste any of their private time.

“Happy winter festival, Silas,” she says, squeezing his hand that’s still holding hers.

He kisses her softly. “Happy winter festival, Dirsteh.”

And once she rests her hands on his chest and they lean into each other for a longer kiss, they make it a happy winter festival indeed, bound together by a scarf -- and so much more.

#summonersecretsanta #lesterderosso #my writing

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