#stop acting like thinking some forms are language are just superior to others is okay or justified

[gayvampyr]

anyway i will always trust and respect native speakers’ usage of their own language more than anyone who tries to police how others speak, or who deems variations in dialect “incorrect/improper” because it’s different from how they personally speak, especially since the history of language policing is chock full of racism, classism, and xenophobia

#i have a lot of thoughts and feelings about this #like in haiti the majority of not the entire population speaks haitian creole #but after the french colonized the country and established french as the primary language of the region creole has been disregarded and cut #out of schools and academic and government institutions #this has caused a major decline in literacy and writing ability for haitians since they aren’t being taught in a language they speak #many of them feel that creole is an inferior version of french and that it’s a broken language but it isn’t #it has its own rules #it’s own grammar #and many sub dialects in different regions just like in english and russian and spanish and every other language #this internalized idea that it’s inferior though has left native speakers feeling limited in their self expression and their ability to #engage in professional or governmental activities #this has also led to a major poverty gap #linguistic oppression is real. the barriers and tangible results of this bias are real #stop acting like thinking some forms are language are just superior to others is okay or justified #it does real world harm #this also applies to aave and mexican spanish and sign language and every other form of language that is invalidated and stigmatized #if i am a native english speaker then how i speak it is not incorrect #because it’s MY language #my entire understanding of language #how my brain formulates thoughts and makes connections and interacts with the world #was founded on my native tongue #so i don’t need some polished white upper class academic to tell me that i’m using it ‘wrong’

[coccinelle-et-chaton]

Adrinette April Day 13 - Family

@adrinetteapril

This one's a tear-jerker my guys 😃

Based on this thread and the ideas of @bookdragonlibrary

Family

There was no reason to be nervous, Adrien told himself. It’s not like he didn’t know the Chengs and not like it was the first time he’d spend time with Marinette’s parents, either. But things were different now.

As of a couple days ago, Adrien was, officially, Marinette’s boyfriend.

The thought still made him blush, still made him stutter. He was still assimilating the surprise, the revelations that had ultimately led to Mari and him come together.

He knew Fei and Uncle Wang would be in the city, Marinette had invited him to say hi to them before it all happened. They were going to cook food together, play some games, and catch up with Marinette’s relatives. He knew them, there was no reason to be scared. Uncle Wang was one of the sweetest men he had ever met, and he always enjoyed spending time with Marinette’s parents. Mrs. Sabine liked playing video games with him and Mr. Tom always taught him new puns to add to his arsenal. Fei was also fun to spend time with, even if her favorite pastime was to try to fluster him in Mandarin, in front of Marinette.

It was going to be okay, there was nothing to be scared of. Except now he wasn’t just Marinette’s friend. He was more than that, and to the extent of his knowledge and resolution, he’d continue to be more than just her boyfriend in the future.

The thought made his stomach churn, realizing this was the root of his anxiety.

He was going to be part of this family, sooner or later. Or at least, he hoped to. He didn’t dare say that to Marinette though, not after exactly three days of dating. He was worried he might come off as too eager even if deep down, he knew Marinette would never judge him for wishing something like that. Then, there was the fact that his family had never been big. He did have his aunt and cousin in London, and to the extent of his knowledge, some relatives he had never known lived somewhere in Belgium. But the Agrestes had never been family gathering enthusiasts. Not to mention, holidays of any kind went by uncelebrated at his house. He didn’t know how to act in front of a family, especially not one where each individual member had more or less adopted him in their own way over the years and he had confectioned a particular brand of his personality for each of them. It made him infinitely anxious.

He sighed, gathering his courage one last time before heading to the backdoor of the bakery, following Marinette’s instructions to just go in because everyone would be there--again, wrecking his nerves because that’s not at all the way he was taught to enter a room. At his house, you always had to let the person know you were headed to where they were, and even then, you had to knock and wait.

He ended up knocking at the door, unable to bring himself to just pop in.

“Hello, Mari’s boyfriend that wasn’t her boyfriend but now is for real her boyfriend!” Fei said in energetic Mandarin as she opened the door.

He blushed and grinned, replying in Mandarin as well, “Hi Fei. It’s good to see you!”

She signaled him to come in and announced, without switching languages, “Marinette’s boyfriend is here!”

Adrien didn’t need to see his face to know just exactly how red it was. Mortified, he stepped into the bakery kitchen, immediately assaulted by the rich, homely aromas of the food that was being prepared. Everyone was doing something: Tom and Sabine were tending to the preparation of steamed buns while Uncle Wang was teaching Marinette how to prepare dumpling filling from scratch, while simultaneously monitoring the broth he was cooking. The room bubbled with conversation, laughter, and music playing in the background. Everyone stopped momentarily to acknowledge him.

“Hi, Adrien!”

Adrien had never known a combination of anxiety and being comforted by the sense of being home could ever coexist in a moment.

Marinette wiped her hands on her apron and hurried to greet Adrien with a big hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. Adrien’s first instinct was to tense up.

“It’s okay,” Marinette said in his ear, “My parents really don’t mind.”

Hearing this, he let go of a sigh and relaxed, hugging her as well.

“Come, I got you something,” Marinette said, with a devious smile as she pulled him to the large kitchen island at the center of the room, where Fei and she had previously been mincing ingredients. She opened a drawer and produced a black apron that had a print of a little cartoon cat wrapped in a tortilla, with the words ‘I’m a purrito’.

Uncontrolled laughter escaped Adrien, immediately diluting the quiet, polite front he was trying to summon.

“I knew you’d appreciate the lame pun,” Marinette said, sliding the loop of the apron over Adrien’s head.

“Cat puns are a superior form of art, excuse you,” Adrien said, chuckling.

“I agree!” Tom said from his corner in the kitchen.

“Don’t encourage him, dad,” Marinette said while Adrien smiled, anxiety slowly leaving him as he became acclimated to the mood.

“Hello Mr. Cheng!” said Adrien in Mandarin. “I’m happy to see you again, I hope your flight was alright.” He was self-aware of the fact he had unintentionally slipped into the rehearsed politeness he usually addressed adults with.

“It’s good to see you, too, Adrien!” said Wang. “And no need to be so formal! You can just call me Uncle Wang. You want to help me with the broth or you’re helping the girls?”

“I, uh... would you like me to help you?”

“If you want,” Wang said kindly. “Or you can help Sabine and Tom with the steamed buns, whatever you feel like doing.”

Adrien smiled sheepishly at Wang and looked around himself a little bit. “Um... I think I could help the girls if that’s okay.”

“Of course!��

Adrien walked over to the part of the isle where Fei was teaching Marinette the tone difference between yī qǐ, yì qi, and yí qì as they carefully confectioned dumplings.

“No, listen, yì qi. You’re saying yí qì,” Fei said.

“I don’t hear it,” Marinette sighed, trying again.

“Yì qi, yí qì,” Adrien said, carefully intoning so that she would hear the difference. “Loyalty to your friends is one tone away from ‘abandoned’.”

“Is that what I’m saying?” Marinette said, surprised.

“Yì qi means personal loyalty,” said Adrien. “Yí qì is literally, ‘abandoned.’”

Marinette sighed. “I’ll never get the hang of it.”

“You can always practice with me,” Adrien offered, beaming at her.

“That’s what I’ve been telling her,” Sabine intervened. “See, I told you Adrien would be willing to help you.”

Marinette blushed as she sneaked a glance at Adrien.

“Besides,” Fei said. “It’ll come in useful if someone pickpockets you in Shanghai.”

Marinette and Fei smiled at each other, complicitly.

Fei and Adrien continued quizzing Marinette on her pronunciation as they slowly, but surely went through several batches of dumplings. Once the food had been prepared, they took everything upstairs to the apartment, cleaned up, and hung the aprons.

“Yours goes here, Adrien,” said Sabine, showing him the four hangers next to the door. It was apparent that the fourth one had been recently installed. Adrien found himself questioning why he felt so emotional about a wall hanger.

“Thank you...” he said, sounding more touched than he meant. Sabine simply smiled at him, seemingly unaware of his reaction.

One of the things Adrien loved about having dinner at Marinette’s was that they always put the different dishes at the center of the table. Adrien knew this was normal, of course, but he had grown up eating by himself and just one serving of one dish per meal. The idea of having several different plates you could choose from and the fact you had to share them with others gave him a bizarre satisfaction, a sense of belonging that he was sure was misplaced.

Then there was the fact that the room was never quiet. It was a stark contrast of what he had always known: Wang and Sabine were telling stories to Marinette about growing up in a village near Shanghai, what it was like when they moved. Tom told jokes to Fei, explaining to her the puns when she didn’t get them because of the language barrier. Adrien listened and watched both in wonder and with a certain melancholy, finally knowing the kind of warmth he had been missing all these years.

Noticing how he had grown quiet, Marinette reached for his hand under the table and squeezed it, then with her thumb gently caressed his ringed finger. She smiled at him, and he inevitably reciprocated, filled with overwhelming joy as he remembered they were now finally and officially, together.

After dinner, everyone gathered in the living room and played a few rounds of charades and Pictionary. Eventually, everyone voted to have Adrien and Marinette and Tom and Sabine in different teams because every time they were in the same one, there was no way for the opponents to win. They seemed to always know what the other was saying. In Marinette and Adrien’s case, her family attributed it to their talents at acting and drawing, but they knew it was because that level of synchronicity came with experience, with the bond they had inadvertently cultivated with their masks.

Eventually, the time for Adrien to go back to his house came, much to his disappointment. He was not even gone and he already missed the warmth of being around Marinette’s family. Before leaving Wang reminded him he was always welcome to visit him again at the restaurant whenever he was in Shanghai again, an invitation that had Adrien thankfully bowing to and accepting in a sudden bout of awkward Mandarin.

“I hope we get to see each other again before you leave,” said Adrien before Marinette walked him downstairs.

“We are,” said Fei. “Aren’t you coming tomorrow? Marinette said I’m meeting Alya and Nino. We’re going to do the touristy Paris things.”

“No, I have to work tomorrow,” Adrien admitted, evidently disappointed. He had lived in Paris all his life and he’d never done a walking tour or one of those hop-on-hop-off buses. It was really a shame.

“Ah, that’s too bad. But hey, Paris has a lot to see. I’m pretty sure we’ll be out for most of the day, right Mari?”

“Right,” she said, smiling at him. “You can join us when you’re done, Min-- Adrien.”

Adrien gave her a look, recognizing the slip of the tongue she evaded. Luckily, if Fei noticed, she didn’t mention it.

After saying his thanks and goodbyes, Marinette walked Adrien down and waited with him while his driver arrived.

“And?” Marinette asked. “What did you think?”

“I had a lot of fun, thanks for inviting me, Mari.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Marinette said. “I already told you, Chaton. You can come here whenever you want. Plus it was a family gathering, everyone hoped you’d be here.”

“Really?” he said.

“Of course! But you did enjoy yourself, right? You don’t have to come next time if you don’t want to. You seemed a little tense at the beginning.”

“I was a little nervous,” he confessed. “I had never been at a family gathering before.”

Marinette’s heart twisted painfully with Adrien’s confession. “Oh, Adrien,” she said, pulling him into a hug.

“To tell you the truth, I almost cried like, three times or something,” he said chuckling if only to hide how moved he actually was. “Your parents installed a hanger for my apron,” he said, burying his face on her shoulder. “Apart from all you’ve done, that’s literally the nicest thing anyone has done for me.”

“Well, now you’re going to make me cry.”

Adrien laughed, kissed her cheek, and pulled away from the hug. “No, Princess. Don’t cry. It’s okay. I’m really happy. I can’t wait for the next time we do this.”

“We do it every weekend,” Marinette said. “I mean, it’s only the three of us, but if you want you can--”

“I can come every weekend?” Adrien said, excited.

“Of course,” Marinette said. “I keep telling you, Adrien. You really can come here anytime you want. Even when I’m not here. Sometimes I find Alya literally just chilling with my mom or my dad, waiting for me to get here. I mean, you’ve met my parents and Uncle Wang, they know what it’s like... What it’s like to uh, you know...”

“You can say it, live with a horrible father.”

Marinette looked down as she chuckled. “Something like that. My dad has a complicated relationship with his own dad, too, you know? They had been fighting at least for the last twenty or so years, he had shut dad out until I intervened. And my mom, well you heard the story, she moved here young and had no one. They know what it’s like to miss your family, and they’re always happy to include others who are or were in similar situations. Especially if that person is my boyfriend.”

Adrien had to pull her into a hug again because this time she really had made him tear up and she didn’t want her to see it. “Are you doing this on purpose or what?” he said, sniffing. “You want to make me sob, milady?”

Marinette laughed, rubbing his back in circles. “No, Minou. I’m just trying to reassure you, I mean it. This is your family, too, Adrien... If--if you want it, I mean I don’t want to sound---oh wow that sounded so weird didn’t it? I--”

Adrien interrupted her by pulling her into a kiss. One that still carried the tints of surprise, realization, and excitement of the discovery of their identities, but that was also steadier, calmer, more conscious than the first few they had shared.

Adrien’s bodyguard pulled up in front of them shortly after they had broken apart. “I love you, Mari,” said Adrien, not knowing how else to convey all that he was feeling and leaning into one last, short kiss before boarding the car.

He sighed as the car drove away, head in the clouds and heart fuller and warmer than it had ever been as he thought about the Dupain-Chengs, but above else Marinette, his family.

#adrinetteapril2021 #adrinette april 2021 #day 13 - family #adrinette #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #or should i say adrien dupain-cheng #sabine cheng #tom dupain #fei cheng #wang cheng #keeping up with the chengs #ml fic #miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug #my writing #ml spoilers

[mimsylovesloki]

Episode 3-Play by Play Reactions (Spoilers)

I’m so excited

Previously on? Oh please like I need a reminder of what I’ve been obsessing over forever

I miss Randy

This reminds me, how did that person know where the timekeepers are? I’d assume only someone of the status of Judge Renslayer would know.

Ooh funky beat

Oh lunch with Sylvie and that one soldier?

I don’t think that’s what a brain freeze is lmao

Oh they’re friends? Or is Sylvie just in her head?

Hmmmmmm

Poor girl

Oh yup

Oop—

I like the opening thing, but I was kinda hopeful that it’d change from episode to episode like wandavision

Lmao not the best security I gotta say

Yo magic don’t work here girly

Oh she just murdered that guy

Nice moves!

Oh that guy is dead too

GET HER LOKI

MY BOY GOT HIS KNIVES

See TVA, this is why guns are nice. You don’t need to engage in hand to hand combat

Yea that’s rude

SYLVIE HURT LOKI? JAIL! JAIL FOR A THOUSAND YEARS!

Rude, Renslayer

Lmao they’re like siblings fighting

Oh that’s fortunate

HAHAHA MAGIC YESSSSSS

Yea she’s not Loki

We got quips

Uh oh lol

Loki what did you do

Ohhhhh the purple realm in the trailers in called Lamentis

Soooo is this termina?

Oh she said watch out to him!

Oh her hair is up in the back. Cute.

Looking out for each other.

Soooo why no likey being called Loki?

Bonding?

No?

Hello?

Hahahahaha she can’t enchant him

What’s her issue?

No that’s not the reason he saved you. He’s just not a murderer like you.

And what’s your plan?

Cmon girl, spill. What’s your background?

Fast pace episode, gotta say.

Sky kinda looks like a painting.

Sylvie, you shut up. Don’t be rude.

“That’s not who I am anymore.” Sooo she WAS one? Sylvie just an alias?

Seems like the theories about them combining lady Loki and Sylvie together are potentially coming true.

Collapse of society? My favorite pastime!

Cmon kids, get along.

Skull kid has to be somewhere around here. (G-get it? Majora’s mask? Anyone? No? Okay...)

Get yeeted

Lmaooo

Oop shape shifting time

Oh this poor lady

Oh lmaoooooooooo

That didn’t go well

Neat weapon.

That sword she has, is that the one Loki later gets?

I hope Sylvie has a good explanation for things...

Ahhhhh the blue outfits. Turtleneck Loki soon???

Lmaoooooooo nice plan loki

Uh oh rich people

Kinda heavy handed line delivery

Lmaoooo teamwork

What’s gonna work? Teeeaaaaamwork

Can’t wait for Loki to throw someone out the window

Lmao he sounds like a robot

TURTLENECK LOKI

Loki is such a pain lol. But she deserves it.

Frigga my Queen

Oh no

Emotions

Please no

Spoiler lmao

What the heck Sylvie lucky

Or not?

What happened to her?

BONDING

WE STAN SUPPORTIVE FRIGGA

Teach Loki that magic!

I wonder how Sylvie’s past was so different than Loki’s? Wouldn’t that make her whole family variants for stepping off the scared timelines path? Why didn’t the TVA act sooner then?

I’m so happy seeing so much more of Loki’s magic.

“Love is hate.”

Loki is such a wonderful pain

Is this flirting???

Of course loki flirts with Loki

Soooo Loki dated?

“Love is mischief then.” “No. Love is... uh something I might have to have another drink to think about.”

We getting Loki drinking and talking about love. Huh.

Oh my gosh is he drunk?

Yep he’s drunk

How does an asgardian get drunk?

Now we have Loki singing in Asgardian

Seems like it’s hitting to close to home for Sylvie mayhaps?

Tom, your theatre kid is showing.

BAHAHAHAHAHHA HE PULLED A THOR OH MY GOSH

Loki dammit. Stop being drunk.

Please please please don’t make Loki a joke. Please. Please. Please. Cmon Loki.

Love?

“Love is a dagger. It’s a weapon to be wielded far away or up close. You can see yourself in it. It’s beautiful. Until it makes you bleed. But ultimately when you reach for it.” “It isn’t real.”

You were close there.

Fight?

Do it!

Please.

Loki can’t just fabricate tickets?

Hey

Did he just break that guys hand lmao

Nice Sylvie. Using your headpiece as a weapon. Copying Ragnarok Loki

Loki missed? Must be cuz he’s drunk.

Aaaaaand Loki was thrown out the window. Why does this keep happening to him? First dark world by Thor.

A little nervous rn with Loki... he seems to be a bit of a joke rn which is what I was afraid of. I hope this is just a little thing and that they’re not trying to make Sylvie better than Tom Hiddleston’s Loki. I mean, you could chalk it up to this Loki being a variant, so maybe there are other things different about him, but that begs to question, at what point does the TVA step in? We saw other Loki variants in that little hologram display in episode two that seemed like those Lokis had done a lot already.

Now now Sylvie, ahem... “LANGUAGE!”

Bragging about hedonism?

Temper tantrum

Cmon therapist Loki

Sober up Loki.

Scene from the trailer I presume.

TVA should step in soon huh? Or is this another apocalypse with no survivors so it doesn’t get picked up on.

Save this world Loki. Trigger the TVA.

Oh. So no trailer scene yet?

Lazy Loki

Cmon Sylvie, teach him! Maybe he can teach you something!

How on earth is Sylvie so different from Loki? I’m so confused.

I hope Loki is able to learn how to do this.

Wait I thought the TVA workers were made.

THEYRE ALL VARIANTS TOO????

BROOOOOOOOO

THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING

So they’re ALL variants? Soooo, the timekeepers are like running a labor camp? If they have no memories, then what do they think happens when a new worker shows up?

Oh man this is like ragnarok ptsd for Loki if he went through it

Very cool set I gotta say

Also very sad. So many people desperate for their lives.

Major Majora’s Mask vibes

MY BOY HAS SUCH STRONG TELEKINESIS

Tom Hiddleston really said “soooo this is all that Loki CAN do but hasn’t been able to do in the past movies. Soooooo now we’re gonna make him do ALL of it.”

Wait... that’s it????? Why did this feel like the shortest episode so far? I think it was. And the ark was destroyed.

I have so many more questions now, mostly about Sylvie. But also concerns. I really hope they are able to balance series loki with mischievous and clever and silly Loki. And I hope they don’t try to push some kind of female Loki is superior thing (I haven’t gotten that vibe yet, but it’s always a concern for me whenever I see a supposedly gender bent version of a character).

I’m having trouble forming the words for my thoughts. This episode was fun and pretty and intriguing, but probably the weakest for the three so far imo. Not to say it was bad, but it felt kind of like it was amping, then plateaued and then ended. Like we barely got much more information, but more questions and set up but it felt like it ended too quickly. Like more was supposed to happen for this episode but it didn’t.

I hope we can find a way to hear Loki sing in asgardian again, but under less jokey pretenses.

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #disney #avengers #loki on disney+ #thor #disney plus #disney+ #Loki show #Loki ep 3 #Loki episode 3 #loki reaction #tom hiddleston #sophia di martino #gugu mbatha raw #owen wilson #marvel studios #Asgard

[yellowmagicalgirl]

no good to dwell on dreams (even if i walked with you once upon one)

At the top of a wooden tower, Krel finds a boy cursed to sleep for 900 years until he receives true love's kiss.

At the top of a wooden tower, Douxie is finally awoken from his cursed sleep. Nothing is as he had expected it to be.

Thank you to the Sleepless Domain Discord user known as 10zin for helping me out when grammar was an issue for me. This fic is post-3Below AU where Wizards didn't happen, and also a Sleeping Beauty AU.

I'm still on hiatus due to finals, but I hope people enjoy this!

AO3

FFN

"I wonder what creepy creepers are in this creepy castle?" Steve asked.

"Really, it's just a tower," Toby said, swinging his warhammer around for light. The three of them had been excited to have a peaceful winter break. No school aside from the homework that Miss Janeth and Señor Uhl had assigned, and ever since Krel and Aja had defeated Morando last summer, the only fights there had been were with the occasional goblin or gnome. And, of course, sparring sessions that Krel tried to ditch as often as possible.

But then the tower had shown up, which meant that Toby and Steve had decided to drag Krel through the woods near Arcadia Oaks. He should have just stayed home, because at least there wouldn't be so many trees. Just the loneliness that had settled into every corner when Mother died and Aja and Varvatos had left.

The tower was made of wood. Dead trees, because of klebbing course it had to be. It looked a lot taller in person than it did from far away. A cool mist surrounded it. The door was made of wood as well, with a few runes carved into it.

Toby frowned. "That's not Trollish or Akiridion."

"Maybe we should come back with Claire, since she's trying to learn to decipher other magical languages?" Krel asked. Really, they should've just waited for Claire and Jim to heal from their common cold before investigating the tower.

"Uh, no. She and Jim will act all smug and superior because we needed their help," Steve said.

"They won't be... okay, they might be annoyed because how dare we go off on our own and pull a stunt when those two have nearly killed themselves doing the same thing, but! They won't be smug. Grumpy, sure. Jumpy, yes in Claire's case. But not smug. I'll lead, but have your axe and serrator out," Toby instructed. He pushed on the door, but it didn't give.

"Oh, well, I guess we should go home now," Krel said.

"Not getting out of this that easy," Steve said, punching Krel in the shoulder with enough force that Krel was glad he was in his Akiridion form. Otherwise, there was a good chance that Steve would've knocked him over.

Toby took a step back, then slammed his warhammer into the door. It still didn't give way.

Krel's curiosity won over the fact that he should be trying to be the voice of reason for his friends. He pushed past Steve and Toby. He then reached up to trace the runes. Perhaps there was some sort of mechanism to them.

They lit up green under his touch. Krel heard Toby make a nervous sound behind him as the rest of the door glowed green before turning to mist.

Steve coughed. "Well, since the castle-"

 "-tower," Toby interrupted.

"Since it likes you," Steve continued, "I guess you're leading the way." Krel groaned and walked into the tower.

The three of them made their way up the spiral staircase. Every several feet, a sconce in the wall lit up with green light. Eventually, they reached a second door at the top of the stairs. Krel once more traced over the ruins engraved in the door, which then disappeared into the same mist.

The room at the top of the tower was empty aside from a stone slab in the center of the room. On top of it lay a boy. He looked so still; so peaceful. He was human, with dark hair tied into a bun and bangs flowing down either side of his face. His arms were crossed over his chest. He looked to be at most a year older than Steve, Toby, and Krel.

"Is this... a tomb?" Toby asked as the three of them approached the boy.

"I don't think so," Steve said as Krel leaned over the boy, who showed no signs of breathing. "In all the video games I've played, the tomb is under the castle-"

"-I keep on telling you Steve, this is a tower!"

"The tomb is under the castle," Steve continued despite Toby's interruption. "Not at the top of it. Unless, I don't know, maybe some cultures don't have their tombs under the castles? Krel, how do Akiridions do it?"

Krel was about to retort that it didn't matter how Akiridions dealt with their dead, because this boy wasn't Akiridion. However, Steve nudged Krel forcefully enough that he lurched forward and his lips brushed against the boy's. They were soft, and just warm enough that despite being in his Akiridion form Krel could feel the temperature difference.

Krel stood up, about to turn and yell at Steve for pushing him. But then, the boy's eyes fluttered open.

Toby screamed.

The boy screamed, sitting up and scrambling away from the three of them.

Steve and Krel screamed.

The boy caught his breath and looked between the three of them. He drew his knees up to his chest as he   and Krel waited for Toby and Steve to stop screaming. He licked his lips and swallowed before speaking. "Which one of you kissed me?"

Steve pointed at Krel. The boy stared at Krel with an odd expression.

"I only did so because I was shoved," Krel said, rolling his eyes. Really, if the boy wanted an apology for having been unexpectedly kissed while he was asleep, then Steve should be the one apologizing.

Slowly, a shy smile formed on the boy's face. "I'll admit, I had thought that my true love would've been a human or another wizard, not... no matter what, it's good to meet you. I'm Douxie."

Out of the corners of his eyes, Krel could see his friends trying and mostly failing to not laugh at the entire situation with Douxie. This wasn't funny, and his friends weren't helpful at all. Maybe this was a sign that they should've waited for Jim and Claire, who would certainly... no. They'd probably also be trying to stifle laughter. Krel was so thankful that Aja wasn't here, because she'd definitely be laughing.

"I... no," Krel said. "Why the kleb do you think I'm your 'true love' or whatever?"

Douxie's face fell before raised an eyebrow. "I was cursed, so that I would sleep for 900 years, and then this tower would appear in close vicinity to my true love, who would wake me with a kiss. Didn't you read the runes the Master Merlin inscribed on the door? You would've triggered their magic."

Krel bristled with frustration. "Well, clearly this 'Master' didn't account for the possibility of my technology interfacing with the tower."

Douxie flinched, frowning and crossing his arms across his chest.

"Wait, by Merlin, you wouldn't happen to mean a crusty old wizard who likes the color green and uses the Staff of Avalon, would you?"

"I wouldn't call him crusty..." Douxie said. One of the corners of his mouth twitched like he was trying to fight off a smile.

"Come on," Toby said. "My friends - other friends, not these two - and I have way too much experience cleaning up Merlin's messes."

The four of them exited the tower and watched it turn to mist behind them. Douxie frowned and was silent as they made their way to Jim's house.

"So," Jim said, glancing over at Douxie. Douxie was seated on the couch, sipping at a glass of water. He had tucked himself into a corner, arm not holding the glass wrapped around himself. He looked around slowly with a dazed and confused expression. "You decided to, instead of waiting for backup, go investigate the tower on your own. And then you woke up yet another ancient wizard."

"I mean," Toby replied, "at least this one doesn't seem to be genocidal or power hungry." Claire flinched.

"Technically Krel woke him up!" Steve said. Krel scowled. He only woke Douxie up because Steve pushed him. For all they knew, carrying him out of the tower would have worked just as well. Or splashing him with water or shaking him.

"Why were you asleep and trapped in the tower, Douxie?" Douxie jumped upon hearing Jim say his name.

"The curse was intended for our king, to make him sleep for 900 years, but his sister pushed him out of the way. It was because the curse wasn't originally meant for her that I was able to sacrifice myself for her," Douxie said. Very pointedly, he looked away from Krel. "I... there was an old wooden tower on the edge of Camelot. It had fallen into disrepair, so Master Merlin was able to enchant it to protect me, and so... the curse was supposed to only be breakable by true love's kiss, but I guess since Morgana took on the curse instead there were other ways to wake me up."

"Wait." Claire sat up straight, muscles tensing like she was preparing for a fight. "By Morgana, you wouldn't mean a witch 'has many names' and was the apprentice to Merlin?"

"I have never heard her claim to have many names," Douxie said, "but you do remarkably well at mimicking her voice. And yes, but she finished her apprenticeship years before I met her. How do you know her?"

"Oh, let me count the fucking ways." Claire sneered. "Let's see, in reverse chronological order, there's the time she tried to kill all life on Earth-"

"She wouldn't do that!" Douxie's hands shook before he balled them into fists.

"Oh, she definitely did. She did that and more."

"No, I know  her. You must be mistaken," Douxie said quickly, like he had very little air and couldn't say much before gasping again.

"You knew her," Claire said. Pinpricks of purple invaded her eyes, and her voice raised a little in volume with each word. "But I know what she became after you fell asleep. You should have just let her keep the curse."

Douxie began to hyperventilate, shaking his head. Krel just barely saw the way tears and pinpricks of blue formed in his eyes as he reached for his bracer before a cloud of pale blue smoke enveloped the room. The glass fell to the floor, and the sound of the door opening could be heard.

Douxie was gone when the smoke cleared, and there was no sign of where he could be.

"I... fuck," Claire said. Her hands shook, and she kept glancing down at them and around the room. Her eyes were wide and her voice had taken on a slightly higher pitch than normal. "I didn't mean to- I just- I'll go after him. Apologize."

"No," Toby said. "Claire, we all know you didn't mean to hurt Douxie, but we also all know that if you even just start sneezing because of dust then your PTSD starts to act up more. That argument you just had about Morgana isn't helping things. You're on the edge of a panic attack, and one or both of you will get hurt if you go after him."

"I'll go after him," Krel said. "What's the phrase... you wake it, you pay the consequences for it?"

"Eh... sort of, not really," Jim said. "It's you break it, you bought it."

"You break his heart upon waking him up, you're responsible?" Steve said. "But it's probably best if we split up to look for him before he gets himself hit by a car or anything."

Naturally, Douxie had run off into the trees near Jim's house. Given his path, it seemed like he had tried to find his way back to the tower, but he had probably given up when Krel found him. He was casting magic from his bracer and sitting on a tree stump. Half-dried tears reflected the blue light of his magic.

Krel bit his lip, recalling the way that Douxie's had felt against his. The doors of the tower had given way for him. As much as he wanted to deny it and blame Steve, it was Krel's fault he was stuck in a strange world with no one.

Krel inhaled sharply as it finally hit him why Douxie had been so pleased that Krel was his supposed True Love. It wasn't just because Krel broke the curse keeping him asleep, or else he wouldn't have insisted on it so much. He probably would've been thankful either way.

It was because, even if everyone else he ever knew was dead or evil in their old age, at least Douxie would have had someone guaranteed to care about him. It was the one thing he could hope for, and Krel had smashed that hope and left him all alone.

"I know this is probably overwhelming for you," Krel said, slowly approaching Douxie. Douxie didn't look up at him. "I'm not from Earth, so it was overwhelming for me as well, and I at least had my sister and our bodyguard. I'm sorry I'm not who you hoped I would be."

"It's not your fault," Douxie mumbled. "Is it true? That because I sacrificed myself, it's my fault that Morgana did so many horrible things?"

"No. You couldn't have known what she would do. Not even Claire believes that, and if she had been the one to find you I'm sure she'd be trying to apologize. But, out of all my friends, Morgana hurt Claire the most badly, so she overreacted. But no one blames you." Krel pointed at Douxie's bracer. "How does that work?"

Douxie smiled, probably thankful for a change in subject. He could talk about his ancient wizard technology instead of his feelings. "It's sort of like a portable spellbook. It helps me control my magic, and it's also easier to remember the components needed for spells like this. I'm currently trying to cast a spell that will help me find my familiar."

Douxie's smile slid off of his face. "He's a dragon, and dragons live for a long time. If he didn't, then I would have run away from Camelot and never would have sacrificed myself for her. But, what if he's changed like Morgana did, or gotten another wizard after all this time? Or what if he died of non-natural causes?"

"We can try to help you find him. Him and Merlin." Besides, everyone had been trying to find Merlin anyways, after the geezer had skipped out on the trolls by proclaiming that he had things to do.

"Thank you. Though, I'm scared to find either of them."

"Though, in the mean time, you'll need a place to stay. My sister doesn't live at home anymore, so I have a spare room if you want it."

"I'd like that; thank you."

There was no foretold true love waiting for Douxie, but that didn't mean he had to be alone. And neither did Krel.

A/N: I'm going to leave it up to the reader as to whether or not Krel actually is Douxie's fated true love and is just in denial about it.

#krexie #krel tarron #steve palchuk #toby domzalski #hisirdoux casperan #tales of arcadia #jim lake jr #claire nuñez #fairy tales #3below #toawizards #trollhunters #sleeping beauty #my writing

[prettynxsty]

Scented Wood

My first ever fic, femdom!reader x sub!Chan

contains: angst, swearing, futa/girlcock, size kink, choking, smoking, toxicity, dark themes, mentions of killing, smut, y/n is straight up a serial killer, okay?

Summary: You’re a notorious serial killer, but you only kill to keep the balance. Your purpose is to rid the world of it’s garbage, but by day you’re simply a forensic crime scene specialist. You tangled yourself in a serious mess by giving into your selfish desires, indulging in hearts instead of stains on society.

AN: I tried to give a new spin on a unique writing style and write something that gives a fresh feeling.

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  Chan enters the station, his breath coming in shallow puffs. It felt like ice out there, it'd never snow in LA no matter how nippy it was outside. He peels the gloves from his hands and tucks them under his arm while scrubbing together his cold fingers. The station was quieter at these hours, the normal hum of noise was quieter. 

He nods to a comrade at the front desk as he heads down the hallway, he was still cold, if not colder. But there was a warmth that he remembered, one that tickled him inside and out. Chan slowed to a stop beside Y/n’s office, doubting himself for a second before tapping his knuckle against the wood. He shrugs his jacket down to his shoulders, reaching up and gently scratching at the base of his neck under his uniform top.

You nearly jumped out of your skin upon hearing the knock, the wheels of your chair inching you away from your desk. Peering through the frosted windows, you see the familiar frame of Chan. You relaxed gently, but still felt a bit jumpy. You had every reason to be nowadays - after all you’ve done, it's hard to just go back and calm yourself. You’re now paranoid, spastic, loud... but that doesn't matter. 

You saved and exited the document you were working on, then stood up to your full height, putting your hands in your pockets... wincing as the bruised and cut knuckles rubbed against the fabric of your pockets. This was what had to happen - for the good of LA, you just wished that you would have been smarter than to get into a fight with them first. You'll be quicker on the next kill, cleaner. Quieter. But now, you had better things to look forward to. "Come in, Chan," your voice echoed through your office, dominant, deep, assured, enough to chill the room even more.

Chan exhales, his entire frame relaxing as he pushes down the door handle and enters the room. The chill in his skin begins to fade away as his eyes run over the silhouette of the taller form. He swallows quietly, rubbing his lips together and licking them idly as he lifts his eyes to meet yours.

"Hey," he breathes, "you busy?" Lifting a hand, he removes his black cap and combs his fingers through his brown locks to fix them. He hadn't ever outright asked you for what he wanted, he could only ever remember simply taking it, or having it given to him without any word.

You could read the body language of the man as simple as you could a children's book - Chan wanted something. Something he didn't want to say out loud, obviously - his cheeks were a supple shade of red, but that could always be the temperature. You always preferred the cold, so your house is always a steady 65. But Chan was warm-blooded, you could tell that by... everything about him. 

You watch his hair as it smoothed out between his fingers, and you could almost feel the silkiness on your own fingertips. Your hands twitched in response. You swallowed the lump in your throat, lifting your chin slightly, eyeing your friend. "Not usually," you lied. "I always have time for you. What do you need?"

"Just wanted to catch up," the corners of his lips twitch up in a lopsided smile. His lids flutter shut as he stretches his back, moaning quietly. His collar shifts, practically putting his pretty tanned skin on display. His neck was fresh, free of markings of any kind.

Chan tucks his gloves into his pocket, shrugging off his leather jacket and spotting the second chair beside your desk. He helped himself to the seat without asking, quietly fishing out his peppermint chapstick. For an officer of the law, he was acting awfully shy at this very moment. He quickly looks away from you as he glides the balm over his dry lips. "Uh, how have you been?"

You kept an eye on Chan's every movement, every twitch, but stayed completely still yourself. You watched the shine of his lips as he rubbed them together, you would swear you even saw the pink of his tongue slip out for a moment. You suddenly felt slightly flustered, but buried it quickly with your other thoughts.

Catch up? What did that mean? You ran through the locations of your crimes in your head, and as far as you knew, you left nothing but the little folded paper on the victim - some wife beater from Glendale, which you enjoyed killing very much so, even took one of his teeth as a trophy, which was sitting in a jar on your bedside table at home. 

So Chan had to be here as... just a friend. Easing up a bit, you pushed your kind persona to the forefront, offering a smile to Chan. "Good as I can be, with all this rain we've been getting," you laughed slightly, making your way around the desk to stand by Chan. "How have you been? Working the old 9-5?" You leaned against your desk, hands still in your pockets as you looked down to Chan, catching the honey of his brown eyes in the light.

The inkling of desire swimming in his blood began to grow and spread like poison. He just couldn't get enough of you, there was just something about your presence. Your imposing height, the mystery of your character, you were more beautiful than you'd ever realize. The quirk in your charm always made his heart flutter for some reason. In a room full of people, his eyes went to you first and foremost, but why?

He rests his jacket on the back of the chair as he leans back against it, nodding actively as the other man spoke. The chill that was within him was replaced with a fire, a fire that wouldn't be quenched without his desire being fulfilled one way or another.

"Ah yeah, nothing big lately since they have me on patrol until something happens."

He couldn't help but sneak a few glances at your lips before forcing himself to hold your gaze.

"Got any breakthroughs?"

You thought carefully of what to say next; you’re far too good of a forensic scientist to have nothing by this point, so saying no would seem suspicious, but you could lead them in the wrong direction. You reached behind your desk, grabbing a pen and a notepad, scribbling down some info to give to Chan. 

"The footprints at uh... the first scene were partial, but my guess would be they're a men's size 8, so you're probably looking for a guy of average height - 5'8 maybe. The killings are brutal, but I don't have to tell you that. They're probably done by someone of great strength."

Or great stealth. You almost laughed at the thought, before glancing up just in time to see Chan’s eyes on your lips. Oh. So that's what he wants. You cocked your head up again, what a pleasant surprise. Maybe you two could have a little fun together.

"See something you like, officer?"

Chan hummed, nodding as he shifted in his chair to sit up straight, scanning the notes given to him. His lips tingle slightly with the sweet cooling notes of peppermint and menthol in his chapstick, he softly smacks his lips together as he thought for a moment.

Was this a good idea? Chan felt like he was more than likely pushing his luck. Your teasing remark pulls him from the disappointing thoughts, bringing him back to reality. You were probably just joking with him, better not push it.

"Maybe I do," he laughs as he stands up from the chair and stretches.

"I won't keep you too long, Y/l/n. You probably put off some work to talk to me." Chan got ready to turn back and grab his coat, playfully nudging his friend's shoulder.

Your smirk turns into a full blown cocky smile now. There was something nice about the way Chan referred to you, like you were his superior. It warmed you from your thighs to your stomach, and made your heartbeat pick up ever so slightly. Noticing Chan about to leave, you quickly grabbed his arm before it reached his coat.

"Why leave so soon? You just got here," you breathed softly, though your grip was no doubt tight; your thumb grazed right underneath the sleeve of his shirt, right along the little blue vein of his wrist. You licked your lips, stepping closer to him.

"Stay a little longer. We can... go over the case." You didn't want to seem too forward.

Your voice sent chills down his spine, his face grew hotter. He couldn't believe what was happening right now, you wanted him like that? He swallows dryly as his arm was grabbed, it wasn't really harsh per se, but it completely took his breath away. Chan’s mouth fell slightly ajar as he allowed himself to be pulled back into the space of the taller.

The normal beating of his heart gains a nervous and excited flutter as he stands before the other, gazing up into your eyes. They smolder with something deep, hot, something that could burn him, but the warmth was good. "Uh, yeah." He babbles blankly, nervously nibbling at his lower lip.

You watched his lips carefully, watching them quiver ever so slightly. You knew Chan was thinking exactly what you were. You met his eyes, leaning down closer to him, looking for any sign of distress or disagreement. When you found nothing, you moved in quicker, catching his lips quickly. Your own lips tingle at the contact, the taste of peppermint flooding your senses as your other hand shoots to Chan's collar, pulling him in even closer by the neck.

Chan felt his lids fall shut automatically as you leaned in to kiss him, he waited eagerly to receive it. Suddenly he felt a hand on his collar tugging him forward and he moans in shock. This was exactly what he wanted, what he needed. Some roughing up, and he was more than ready to get it. He leans into your touch, grabbing your shoulders as he moves his lips against your own. It felt so good to just let someone else take the lead and take what they wanted, giving him what he craved.

You were a bit taken aback by the moan, but quickly picked up on what to do. You took Chan’s bottom lip between your teeth, biting just hard enough to see how he'd react, but not enough to draw blood. You adored this; having someone squirming under you. Usually it was some high-priced hooker, or someone dumb enough to fuck you in the bathroom, but lately you haven't had much luck - so you were more than desperate, and Chan was the perfect target.

As your pants grew tighter, you kicked Chan’s chair aside to make more space. It bounced off the wall and clattered to the floor. Breathing heavily, you switched position to pin Chan to your desk. You completely lost any inhibition that told you this was probably a bad idea, and instead completely lost yourself in the slim, muscled man underneath you.

Chan jumped as your teeth scraped across his lower lip before sinking in. He took a sharp breath in, exhaling with a deep sigh. The flame inside of you was licking his skin, heating him up in the best of ways. His head spun as blood rushed to his nethers, aching to be filled and used.

Chan barely heard the noise of the chair until it fell onto the floor, opening the space around you. His dick jumps when you pin him back against the pine desk. He was drunk from the smell of earthy cologne and the rough touch, his mind was empty save for one woman, you.

You smiled into the kiss before parting your lips, "You like it rough, huh, detective?" You chuckled, keeping one hand tight on his collar. You move your other hand to lift his chin, dragging your fingertips down the column of his throat before digging your thumb into the base of his neck. Just enough to apply pressure.

You wanted to be rougher - wanted to make the man whimper and beg - but you still needed to toe the line, if you crossed a boundary, you could get fired. You pressed your hips into his, looking down on Chan’s supple lips, his half-lidded eyes, taking in the fact that you could do anything you wanted to him in that moment.

"Tell me what you want, then."

Chan felt his cheeks prickle with heat of shame, to admit something like this out loud, he could never. He opens his eyes, his pupils blown wide with pleasure as you lift his chin. He couldn't contain the shaking moan that came from his lips as his throat was squeezed. Feeling you press completely up against him felt good, felt so right to him. His lips were only slightly swollen from their lip lock, a renewed tingling from where he was bitten. Chan almost couldn't process the demand he was given, babbling the first words that came to mind.

"Fuck me," he breathes quietly, leaning further into your touch.

You smirked once more, leaning in to kiss the last bit of peppermint off his wet lips, before pushing him roughly against the desk. You took a step back, goosebumps raising on your skin from the cold air. "Take off your clothes," you commanded, before looking down and beginning to work on your belt.

You were going to fuck him until you couldn't fuck him anymore, maybe if he was good you'd even let him cum too. When you finally got off your belt, you kept it in your hand, walking to the office door and locking it. Couldn't take any risks, you thought, as you set the belt down on the desk, keeping it close as you quickly unbuttoned your shirt.

Chan obeys immediately, reaching up and making quick work of the buttons on his top. He keeps his eyes on you, not peeling them away for a second as he undresses. He allows the garment to slide from his shoulders seductively, taunting the domineering woman with light, playful eyes. After pushing aside the top of his uniform, he moves down to his well fitted black slacks. Chan unbuttons them with ease, shimmying them off to reveal his snugly fit boxer briefs. Afterward he kicks his pants to the side, dumping them beside his discarded shirt, awaiting his next commands.

You glanced backwards to the frosted glass with a worrisome look, but there was still no one there. You unbutton your black dress pants, pushing them and your underwear off in one solid motion. Your cock sprung free easily, a solid, cut, girthy 7 inches, hard as a rock and shiny at the head from your own excitement. You really hadn't been laid in a while, so you were more than eager to get this show on the road.

You looked to Chan, who stood with a playful look on his face. Oh, so he's a brat, you thought. I can play with that. You took a few steps forward and brought Chan into a kiss, deep and hungry, sliding your middle and pointer fingers in the elastic band of his boxer briefs. You pulled away after a moment, catching your breath once again as you pulled back the elastic and snapped it against his skin.

"Everything."

Chan idly licks his lips, tracing every dip and curve of your body with his eyes. For so long he admired you from afar, not daring to make a move. Now he wondered why the hell he hadn't tried anything like this before. His lips twitch into a sly little smile as he watches the other man make quick work of his clothes, hurrying back to him. He receives the kiss easily, leaning in to the larger form as if it were second nature to him.

His breath hitches as the warm fingers hook under his black undergarments, pulling them back and snapping them against his unmarked skin. Chan hooks his thumbs under his boxer briefs, holding your heated gaze as he slides them down and over his thighs. His cock sprang from the confines of the cotton, standing at attention as he kicked his underwear aside.

You were getting impatient now, especially with the sight of Chan’s cock eagerly awaiting you; if you wanted to, you could get on your knees and suck him until he couldn't stand on his own. If you wanted to, you could fuck his throat until he couldn't speak. But you weren't being paid hourly, and you had stuff to do tonight - particularly search for a new victim.

This wasn't a date, Chan came here for a fucking, and that's what he's going to get. That's all he's going to get. You wrapped your arms around Chan’s waist gently, staring down at the firm rise and fall of his abs, the dip of his hips and his cock, licking your lips hungrily. "You wanna get fucked, huh?" You mumbled.

"Turn around. Bend over."

Chan almost wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, things were getting right to the point. Things were moving without stopping, just the way he liked it. There was too much to be done later to spend too much time fooling around, as much as he would enjoy it. A quick round would help clear his head and put him in the right place to start piecing up this case.

The look in your eyes made his dick jump, sending a shiver through his compact frame. He bit his lip, turning away from you and bending over the desk. Suddenly he felt much too shy to look you in the eyes, being exposed like this. He hated and loved it all the same.

You placed your hand on the small of Chan’s back almost instinctively, running your hand over the tan, smooth flesh.

"Good little slut," you whispered as you exhaled, not even realizing you were saying it. You brought your right hand up to your lips, spitting on your long fingers. You slowly brought it down to level with Chan, moving the hand on his lower back down to spread his firm cheeks lightly, soaking up the sight of him.

"God, you're hot." Your fingers shook slightly as you pressed a lubricated finger to his hole, prodding just enough for sensation but not enough to penetrate, your love for teasing getting the best of you for a moment.

Chan arches his back, allowing his head to loll forward gently. Your warm hands coming in contact with his cooler skin, one resting in the dip of his spine. He chews on his lip anxiously, swaying his hips in anticipation as he hears you spitting on your fingers. He felt a hand part his cheeks before a wet finger rolled against his rose colored hole. Chan let out a quiet sigh, trying to stifle the noise daring to exit his lips. He couldn't be any more ready for this, but he could not get caught, and neither could you.

You decided that you shouldn't waste anymore time. You pressed your finger in slowly until your knuckles got in the way, watching the man's back rise and fall as his breath got quicker and quicker. You twist your finger as you pulled it out, adding a second one easily - a sign he's probably done this before, with some guy at the station, you assume.

You picked up the pace gradually, scissoring your fingers to loosen him up, searching for that spot that would really make him moan. Just thinking of those sounds made your cock twitch, prompting you to reach your free hand down to slowly pump it in response.

Chan felt his body jerk, a moan slipping from his kiss swollen lips. "Shit," he curses quietly as his hole is breached. He felt the long finger twist before slowly retracting before he was being stretched out with two fingers.

This was good, but Chan really wanted the main course, now. He couldn't finish the thought, his eyes rolling back with white hot pleasure. You hit the nail right on the head, curling against his prostate mercilessly. "Fuck me, Y/n," he whines, burying his face in his hands. He felt shame for saying it so loudly, anyone could've heard him.

You felt pretty proud of yourself. You’ve always prided yourself on your power over people, specifically in relationships. You could get anything you wanted easily, it just took the right plan; people were just pawns to you, technicalities. Not that you were completely cold-hearted, you’ve been known to indulge a few of your emotions from time to time- but you’ve never felt better than when you’re on top.

Which is why you kill, apart from wanting to better the city that you hope to one day raise children in - power. Around the workplace, no one knows this, though; they push you around as just the forensics girl, like you’re the technicality. You’re so much more than that. You feel your blood boil at the thought of it, as you pull your fingers out. It felt wonderful to see the tough cop begging to be fucked. 

Eventually, you tire of playing around and gently remove your fingers from his entrance. Wordlessly, you reach over your desk and clumsily pull open the top drawer. Rifling around for a few bare seconds, your fingers brush over the crinkling packet of lubricant. Awkwardly pinching it between the tip of your ring finger and index nail, you lift it out of the drawer and maneuver it into your palm. Tearing the corner carelessly, you cradle your length in your hand and dribble it from base to tip. You busy your hand with spreading it along, pouring the remainder along the cleft of his ass.

A delighted hum rumbles in your chest when he jumps at the cool liquid sliding over his skin. You toss the now useless packet into the trash can beside your desk. You collect some of the lube on your fingers, taking care to spread it around before pushing back in. Once you’re satisfied with your own meticulous preparation, you lean back into the embrace of carnal desire. Pressing the head of your cock against his glistening hole sends a chill up your spine. Planting your feet, you begin to press inside of him.

It felt good to loosen up like this, no strings attached, nothing really at stake. Things would probably fall right back into their neutral friendship as if nothing happened. Afterward he'd head to his desk and take the information that you wrote down for him and try to make some connections.

There had to be a way that these murders were connected, it didn't make sense. His invasive, calculating thoughts were silenced immediately as he felt you begin stretching him out. You were much bigger than your fingers, for damn sure. Chan felt a sting, but it excited him.

You felt disappointed almost that Chan was trying to stay quiet, you always loved to hear the sounds of someone below you, but all you were getting now was a choked back whimper or the occasional soft, quiet groan. Clenching your teeth, you ground into Chan without warning, the warmth around your cock coaxing out a soft moan of your own.

You definitely needed to get laid more, if Chan keeps this shit up, and you'll be coming within minutes. You took a moment to let Chan adjust before moving into a punishing pace, reeling his hand back to smack his ass.

Chan thought he was managing well with keeping himself quiet enough, but you seemed to have a different idea. The powerful thrusts were enough to rock his whole frame and he couldn't bite his lip any harder.

"Oh!" He cried out, trying to clamp his lips shut while catching his glasses before they shot off of his face. Each moan was long and drawn out, despite his struggle to be just a little bit quieter. He bit his tongue so hard that it bled a bit, crying out in shock as the large hand claps over his ass cheek. "God- damn!" He pants, squeezing his eyes shut.

You smirked, feeling the heat pooling in your stomach already. You felt proud, finally getting Chan to show the world just how much of a slut he was. The man was practically a mess of syllables and moans, not making any sense at all, if not for the occasional curse. The desk creaked threateningly as you pounded in again, and you couldn't tell if you should be worried about the receptionist walking in or the wood splitting in half.

The 54-year-old, almost retired woman would cross herself, then immediately collapse if she heard them, undoubtedly filing a complaint to HR which would subsequently cause you to lose the one job keeping you from being arrested. Unfortunately you weren't in the best state of mind to be worried about these things, or even consider them. You leaned forward until your stomach met Chan’s back, wrapping your arm around his throat in semblance to a choke hold. You were gonna make Chan come harder than anyone had before, you were determined.

Chan whines every time you strike that special bundle of nerves, the sound keening. The sensation was beginning to get overwhelming, he was reaching his limit. "Y/n-, ah!" He moans, cutting himself off and allowing his head to hang down limply, pushing his glasses back up his nose. The smaller man could feel you leaning forward, your breasts pressing against his back.

Much to his surprise, an arm wraps around his throat and yanks him backward. His dick dripping precum, pulsing and twitching fitfully. Chan felt the heat climbing his cheeks, the lack of air pushing him to focus solely on the feeling. Soon after, it was all too much. He whimpers pitifully as he cums, shivering with each shot.

You groaned through clenched teeth as you felt Chan fluttering around you, that alone was enough to send you over the edge. You keened, loosening your grip on him immediately. He rattles with a few sharp coughs, gasping to catch his breath. "Fuck," you managed to groan, pulling out of him and frotting your length in between his cheeks.

You came, and you came hard. Thick, syrupy ropes splatter over the small of Chan’s back as you rest your head on his shoulder, planting sloppy kisses along his neck and behind his ear. You hadn't cum like that in awhile, your legs even shook slightly as you caught your breath and tried to wind yourself down. After a moment, you chuckled slightly to yourself. "Where have you been all my life, Bang Chan?"

Chan pants heavily, scrubbing a hand over his face. He allowed himself to lay limply over the edge of the desk as he recovered from the earth shattering orgasm. The wet kisses cause a shudder to run through him, sending a felt more bolts of pleasure through his sensitive body. Never in a million years would he have expected you, his friend, the bookish forensic scientist to fuck him like this. "Honestly, I don't know," he breathes, slowly regaining his strength.

You smiled slightly upon seeing the disheveled man, stepping back. Without missing a beat, you grabbed a tissue out of the box sitting on your desk and swept away the mess you created. You’d need to tackle the cum on the front of your desk next, that was a conversation that you weren’t willing to have with the custodian.

You turned your attention away from him, swiftly moving to clean up the evidence of your recent escapade. It was a quick fuck and there were no feelings to be shared, you assumed that Chan felt the same. You dressed yourself as quickly as you undressed yourself, making your way back over to the desk, rifling around for your pack of marlboros in the top drawer. Dumping yourself in the seat, you turned on the small fan on your desk to try and mask the scent of smoke as you lit one up.

"Don't tell anyone about this. DK would have my ass," you mumbled with the cigarette between your lips, inhaling the smoke deeply, and puffing it out in rings. You thought of what Dokyeom, your real boss, would think if he found out not only had you fucked a cop in your office, but offered him a cigarette afterwards.

Chan peels himself up from the desk, stretching out his back with a few cracks and pops. He pushes his glasses into place, and combs his finger through his hair to put himself back together. Decidedly, he would get dressed and head straight to the bathroom to completely clean himself up before he went back to work on the case for a bit. "There's nothing to tell." He agreed, bending over and grabbing his boxer briefs.

Chan made quick work of pulling them up and over his thighs and jumping into the rest of his clothes. Upon straightening his collar, he grabs his cap and jacket. He glances back, nodding at you before seeing himself out quietly. No words were needed, what's done is done. However, he should have definitely wiped the lube out of his ass cheeks before he left, sheesh.

You knew what to expect, so hearing the door shut wasn't that bad of a blow. You take this time to sit at your desk, skimming through anything that could possibly look bad on your part. You weren't stupid enough to keep any evidence incriminating you on your work computer, but you still had stuff to double-check in case Chan wanted on.

You updated the files with some basic information, making sure to get the rough description of the unusual suspect, or unsub, as far away from yourself as possible. You had to feel a little proud; you were only two murders down, but you had big plans, a list, even, of people to target next. You cleaned your email too, deleting all emails from your therapist, making sure to make yourself look as bland as possible.

Chan spent a few minutes in the bathroom, freshening himself up in front of the mirror. He stops, inspecting himself idly as he allows his thoughts to roam. Why did she give me so many details earlier? I didn't really mean anything serious by asking her that... Whatever. Quietly fishing around in his pocket, he pulls out his chapstick and glides it over his lips. He smacks his lips together with a soft pop, putting away the small lip balm as he pushes open the door and exits. Chan strolls down the hallway, entering the office and finding his desk. You weren't far from his mind, just sort of looming for some reason. He stares blankly at the dark computer screen, glancing up as someone walks by. Jinyoung, the chief of his department. Should he question Jinyoung about his sudden suspicion?

#sub!idol #dom!reader #domme!reader #skz smut #stray kids smut #sub!skz #sub!chan #sub!stray kids #sub!bang chan

[yanderecandystore]

How would (female) Darling react to a yandere King of the human world and a yandere Queen of vampires fighting for Darling’s hand)? [Headcannons]

Hello everyone, I hope you didn't wait too long.( ˘ ³˘)♥

I wasn't sure how to write this one, but it's a really interesting concept and I couldn't leave it behind.

 I don't think this is my best work, since the story that I'm going for is a little too big to be contained in a headcanon, so all may feel a little fast, and a little too long at the same time.

 So maybe I'm going to make an proper fanfiction with an longer experience of this events. And I'm sorry if this isn't what you were waiting for, and if there is too many errors. This is so huge, is a nightmare!

 Also, a little trigger warning, there is an mention of an increasing number of deaths caused by an "disease", but is mostly used in the headcanon as a little plot point, and is mostly because I like to reference the anime Shiki when I write about vampires. But if you feel like this may trigger or affect you in anyway, especially considering the recent events, I would just like to warn you right now.

꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡

Crossfire [Yandere Human King x F!Reader x Yandere Vampire Queen]:

 Being born as an commoner was already hard enough, you didn't need anymore trouble in your life!

 You started working inside the castle as a simple gardener, attending to the gardens inside the castle walls. The queen was known to love gardens, well, until she passed away.

 The queen passed away years before you started working inside the castle, and the original king? Died a couple of months ago.

 Both stated to have mysterious causes of death. Most likely caused by an disease.

 The coronation of the prince wasn't so long ago, so he is your king now. But even working under his roof, you only met him a couple of times.

 Some of your co-workers who had been here way longer than you would say he was a childish, egotistical man, who only cared about his wealth and power over the happiness of others. He didn't have a good relationship with the older king, and his mother passed away when he was only 5 years old.

 It wasn't a surprise for any of them that the new monarch would be an bitter man. Yet, he didn't seem to tend to only his needs.

 Although he is very rude to you and the other servants, he seems to take his responsibilities really seriously. He seems, almost always on edge, but you don't know why.

 Your task made it really easy to never interact with him, he seems to dislike going in his mother garden. You started feeling uneasy out in the garden, you could tell someone was watching you, and when you looked to find out who it was, you could see the king himself watching you from a window. Yet, even when meeting his gaze, you still felt like there was another pair of eyes watching you.

 One day, when you start to feel really paranoid, he decides to visit the garden.

 "- Oh! Greetings, your majesty!" You bow down to him, trying to hide your surprise, yet it didn't go unnoticed by him, he did came out of nowhere while you were doing your job after all.

 "- Good morning, miss [Y/N], right?" He doesn't seem to care about being to formal, but you still feel a little afraid to act the same way towards him.

 "- It's been so long since I last came here." He says. Looking around at this place which seems so familiar, yet so foreign at the same time.

 He seems to be daydreaming, memories of his mother flow through his mind causing him to feel desperate to go back inside the castle walls. Yet, he feels like he needs to be here.

 He knows you shouldn't be here. It's dangerous in the garden, his mother said so.

 "- A-are you okay?" His breathing, his whole body language tells you he is not okay. His almost hypnotized by whatever terrible thoughts going on his mind. It's the first time you see a different expression on his face. It's not one of anger or of silent disgust, is fear.

 It's like a child.

 You can't have him passing out like this, you take him to the nearest sit so he can calm down.

 "- I am calm!" He corrects you, clearly lying yet trying to strike his usual confident and superior act.

 "- No, you're not. Please, tell me what happened, should I call the maids? The guards?"

 You asking what's going on with him, yet he can't find the words to describe it. He is too scared to say, so you should try to comfort him instead of asking too much questions.

 Slowly, he start to feel more comfortable around you, your eyes, your voice, the reassuring touches, it helps him calm down. Your presence makes him forget that his is in this terrible place. You call the maids to help him out, it seems like they already know what to do in this type of situation.

 Weeks after the incident, and it seems like the king has been way more attentive to you. Always coming to the garden to talk with you, although he doesn't like to go to far inside the garden. It makes your job a little more difficult since he seems to take all of your attention, yet is a better company than the winds that shake the leaves of the lonely trees.

 He doesn't seem to be so rude with you. He is a little narcissistic, but not really mean towards you.

 He never told you what happened that day, he only said that the garden brings bad memories. Ever since that day, he kept worrying about you.

 Trying to convince you to take the roll as a maid, it would be more beneficial for you, and he could keep you away from the garden.

 Yet, you never accepted his request. It seemed weird how fast you became close to the king. 

 You never understood why he would be so afraid at the garden, until one day, you unfortunately found out who was always watching you work in the garden.

 You weren't feeling well, so you decided to take a night walk through the garden. It didn't seem like an clever idea at first (and it wasn't), but when you saw the lights coming from the garden from the window of your room, you couldn't resist taking a closer look.

 Fireflies! They look like little stars dancing around the garden.

 You should have stayed inside.

 Someone, or something, came from behind and neutralized you. It was too fast for you to notice, but now that you're awake as in a completely different place with an familiar knight in front of you, you guess this is what happened.

 "- W-where am I?" You try asking the knight who is blocking the door. You try pulling yourself up, yet feel your hands immediately be pulled to the ground by the chains wrapping them.

 This makes you instantly freak out and fully wake up. You're inside a dungeon cell.

 Yet, the knight doesn't say anything. He just huffs at your whining. You were about to try take some information out of him, when someone knocks on the door.

 He looks at you one last time, you can't see his face because of his helmet, yet you can still tell he is threatening you to try anything funny. He turns his way to open the door and go outside, closing the door after getting out.

 You can't hear what's going on outside, but since you're all alone, you might as well try to take a good look around. There is only the door, a uncomfortable looking bed, and a window too small for you to fit in.

 Noticing that the only light in the room, was the moonlight coming through the window. It is still night time. There must be away out-

 "- Evening." Said an female voice. It was monotone, yet seductive in a way. You turn around to find an tall woman wearing dark, extravagant clothes.

 Her face was covered by an dark veil, it was as if she was an bride wearing fully black, or an black widow. You didn't recognize her voice, or her appearance, yet you could only feel extremely frightened by her presence.

 "- I didn't think you would be awake this early, but since you're finally conscious we can get to know each other." She says as she starts to walk closer to your shaking form. You can't see her eyes, but you can tell she is staring at your very soul. 

 This feeling is way too familiar to you.

 "- Who are you? Where am I?" Trying to maintain a confident attitude you ask who is she. Yet, you are visibly too scared to strike a threatening tone, she notices this and laughs at your naivety.

 She kneels down and is face to face with you. This is not exactly how she wanted things to go, yet she is just so thirsty, she can't wait any longer!

 "- Aham." You hear the knight call the woman's attention, he seems annoyed with the lady. But either she doesn't notice him, or is just ignoring him. She just keeps observing you with a smile on her pale face.

 "- Your majesty." He calls, oh, well apparently your kidnapper is royalty! You don't feel honored by that even a little bit.

 "- Yes?" She says overly cheerful, while cupping your cheeks and turning your face, examining your neck. You hold your whimpers, you feel like that would be giving her too much satisfaction.

 "- I'm aware I'm not in any position to question your actions-"

 "- Yes, absolutely. You're not!" She giggles, although her statement wasn't necessarily mean, her tone seemed to change between anger and playfulness, like she is mocking the knight intrusive behavior.

  "- May I ask why I had to go to the filthy castle, to bring you just a simple gardener?"

 "- Excuse me?" She finally turns to look up at the knight, who can easily see the mistake he has made. Her tone is serious this time around.

 "- I mean- Why her? Why not bring the king? Or any more powerful member of that place? We could have planned an elaborate attack, destroy their kingdom and bring in the humans for-" You started to really dislike where he was going, but before you could get all of the information, the queen shushes him, before he spilled so much info.

 "- Oh, my dear, loyal knight, can't you see we have a quest?" She almost yells at him so he could stop mumbling.

 "- You're making her afraid~" She pinches your cheek. 

 "- WE don't want her to be afraid on her first night, right?"

 ' How considerate.' You think.

 "- And for your question… Well-"

 She pauses putting a finger over her lips, thinking over what her knight just said.

 "- It's true we could have stuck we the plan and destroy the human kingdom fully, and although it is NONE of your business, I'm going to explain to you why I asked you to get me this sweet looking girl instead."

 "- …"

 The room falls silent, is she waiting for him to question? She wraps her arms around you, her grip is almost squeezing the air in your lungs out.

 "- … W-why?-"

 "- Because I'm extremely pick with what I drink, love." She keeps giggling and hugging you tighter. Wait, what did she mean by-

 "- And you, my lovely knight, is in no position to question me, or are you?" Her tone is playful, yet her whole demeanor seems so threatening.

  He keeps his head down, you can hear him say a meek "yes". Maybe he is just as scared if her as you are.

 "- Leave." Her happy tone goes away again and is replaced by the serious one.

 He stumbles a little, but manages to get out of the cell as quick as he could.

 After she makes sure she can't listen to his footsteps anymore, she signs and turns her full attention on you.

 "- Sigh, I lost the mood, you know?"

 Yeah, you know exactly what she is talking about.

 "- Oh don't look at me like that, aren't you glad you're here? You're in presence of a vampire queen, you know?"

 "- … What?" Is all you can think of asking. What is she talking about? Vampires aren't real, right?

 "- You're so cute! I'm so glad you're here, I been hungry for so many weeks now. How mean of you to make me hungry~" She smiles while teasing your neck with her fangs. They look so sharp to the touch.

 She is saying the truth though. They had planned an attack for months now, yet after she saw you, she had thrown all of that preparation out of the window.

 Like a spoiled child, she refuse to drink from anyone or anything. Your sweet little form plagued her mind. She was a pick drinker, nothing but the best for the queen, after all.

 She was planning on having a better approach to you. Having a better room for you than the other blood stocks on the dungeons, having an good preparation to meet you in person and bring you here with her mind control.

 But she is just so hungry. And you have an nice sent, better than any of the nobles of your kingdom she had drunk from.

 "- Don't worry about it." She whispers, not waiting too long to just sink her fangs into you.

 After so much screaming and so much failed attempts at running away from her grasp. You had fallen asleep. While she didn't know if she would stay here or go back to her chambers.

 And on the castle were you once worked for, the king search for you at every corner, after noticing that you were missing from your room.

꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡

#special delivery headcanons #special delivery scenarios #sheep is thirsty #this is a nightmare to read #lol #yandere #yandere king #yandere queen #yandere vampire #yandere vampire queen #yandere m! x f! reader #yandere f! x f! reader #yandere m! x f! reader x yandere f! #inspired by Shiki #aaaaaaah #how are ya?

[imaginedhaven]

Rules of Engagement: Chapter Two

Link to Masterpost

Aelin rose shortly before dawn, quickly grabbing the trousers and shirt she usually wore to train with Aedion and his men. As inclined as she was to distrust this new trainer—Rowan Whitethorn, according to her cousin—she might as well begin their time together on something approximating neutral ground. Being late on the first day would only provoke him unnecessarily.

With that in mind she darted down the stairs, still tugging on one of her boots as she went. With a yelp she stumbled, but a quick grab at a handrail turned what would have been a tumble into a smooth slide instead.

Aedion caught her at the bottom of the stairs. “Your hair’s a wreck,” he muttered as they jogged off toward the training ground.

“As though yours is any better,” she growled.

“Sleep late?” Aedion knew better by this point than to let her rile him up, so it had become too difficult to do with such a simple jab. She wasn’t really trying to anger him, though, so instead she focused on doing her best to keep up with him and braid her hair at the same time. No time to secure it any further, not if she wanted to be early.

“Hardly,” she retorted. “You’re up early, though. Observing the fun?”

Aedion hummed in reply. “An entire patrol of the Bane is stationed nearby, just in case. He is a foreign soldier, after all.”

“I’d expect nothing less from your security,” she smiled as she finally tied off her braid.

They turned the corner by the stables, and Aelin turned to face Aedion as he slowed to a stop. “What, not coming?”

“We’ll be keeping an eye on him, of course, but he has specifically said that the guards are to keep a wide berth,” Aedion replied as he ran wide fingers through his own hair to pull it back in a simple leather tie. “You’ll be safe.”

And everyone else will be safe from me, she realized. Though he didn’t say as much, the look in his eyes confirmed that this was a move supported by the rest of the guard for their safety as well as her own. “Well,” she started, reaching for her usual confidence and hoping it was sufficiently convincing. “You’ll just have to meet your hero some other day, won’t you?”

Aedion smirked. “Who’s to say we haven’t already met?”

“I know you’ve met me,” she said with a laugh. “I’m talking about your other hero, who squashes people like grapes apparently.”

“Very funny,” he sighed. “Look, we’ll all be watching this morning, all right? I’ll only leave to see to the preparations for your next guests when I must, and not one moment before I know you’ll be safe enough. You have your knives?”

She nodded in response, patting the sheaths she usually tucked into her training outfit.

“Good. I… don’t antagonize him, okay?” he asked. “I know you. He’s come a long way to do you a favor.”

“No promises,” was her only reply before she left with a jaunty wave.

From the stables, it wasn’t a far walk to the open fields the men preferred for training. Aelin pulled out one of her knives as she walked, carelessly twirling it around her fingers. She may agree with her cousin that it would be poor form to antagonize the Fae who awaited her, but there was a fine line between antagonism and showing him that she was not someone to be trifled with. Far better that he go into this knowing that she would not allow any male to walk all over her.

With all the grace expected of a princess, Aelin stepped onto the training field, eyes trained on her knife rather than any other occupants. Slowly, she allowed herself a scan of the area, starting at the ground level. One other pair of boots, well-worn from travel but clearly well-made, stood before her. The remainder of the field was abandoned as Aedion had said. Sweeping her gaze up, she found he wore rather utilitarian clothes. A pale surcoat broke neatly over matching trousers, neither adorned, both loose enough to allow the male to conceal multiple weapons on his person. A closer look told her he had indeed armed himself, just as she had. Good. She would hate to be taught by someone who couldn’t fight.

His arms were crossed before him, posture showing a lack of amusement but also highlighting his broad chest. Yes, he was a warrior to be sure, tall and strong. Any other profession would be a waste of all that muscle, she mused. His hair didn’t seem to match the profile of a warrior at first glance, long silver locks falling neatly to his elbows. Perhaps all Fae males kept it long, though, so she decided it was still possible that he actually intended to train her today instead of lecture.

A dark tattoo disappeared under the collar of his surcoat, and she spent a few moments tracing the graceful curving lines. It took a while to recognize the symbols as characters in the Old Language, and with the artistic license that had been used in its creation Aelin knew it was beyond her ability to translate. From the side of his neck it appeared to swirl up toward his left temple—or perhaps that was the starting point and it cascaded down from there? It was difficult to say, and even more difficult to discern exactly how far beneath that coat it extended.

Aelin’s eyes followed the curves of the tattoo back up over a strong jaw, and over to the deceptively delicate points of his ears. She knew that he would have equally delicate fangs—or would he? Would they be as strong as the rest of him instead? She had never met a full-blooded Fae male before, she had no basis of comparison but her own face. She would find out soon enough, though, she was sure.

The knife still twirling between her fingers slowed and then stopped when she met his pine-green eyes.

“You,” she snarled as she launched herself at him, knife angled toward that broad chest.

~*~*~

Aelin’s attack was cut embarrassingly short as the wind itself around him picked up, knocking her flat on her back.

The male’s—Rowan’s—voice was smooth and unruffled, as if he had been expecting her to do exactly what she had done. “You’re on time, at least,” he said.

“You—that was your magic,” she realized. “The wind, just now.”

“It was,” Rowan confirmed. “But it’s not my magic that brings us here.”

Aelin glared up into those green eyes as she sat up. The cold intelligence behind them seemed familiar… “The hawk,” she realized. “That was your secondary form. You delivered your own message. Why?”

“Shift, and I’ll tell you,” came his retort.

“What?”

Rowan gracefully folded himself into a seated position, and Aelin realized that the tattoo down the left side of his face also covered his left hand. Did it extend all along his arm, or were they two separate sets of markings? “That is the only task we have for today. If you can’t control your shifting, how can you hope to control your magic?”

“If this is some kind of trick—” she snarled.

Before she could finish, though, the warrior carefully pulled a knife from under his surcoat and set it on the ground in front of him. “You can also earn this back by shifting,” he said quietly, green eyes glaring back at her.

Aelin stilled. How had he known…? “I don’t know what you mean,” she replied.

“Are we really doing this?” he demanded. “You’re going to sit there and act like you didn’t throw that at me?”

“We are,” she growled. “And I’ve never been able to control my shifting, so I don’t see how this matters in any case.”

“Need I remind you that you’re the one who attacked me?” he asked, a dangerous edge to his voice and a steely glint in his eyes. “Both times, actually.”

Aelin did her best to keep an embarrassed flush from her cheeks. He was right, of course; she had lost the ability to pretend she didn’t know what he was talking about when she had leapt at him with a drawn dagger. “There remains a problem which you failed to address,” she drawled. “I can’t shift. I’ve never been able to do it on command.”

“So you would rather admit to being lazy, then.”

Aelin bit back a snarl. “If you’re trying to rile me into shifting, it won’t work.”

“Oh, I think it will,” Rowan said with a smirk. “The pattern of your… incidents… indicates as much. Unless you weren’t angry to be caught sneaking out like the child you are last month, that is.”

Aelin growled, hands fisting where they rested by her knees. “You’re going to be here a long time if you think you’re going to win this way. I don’t suppose you thought to bring snacks?”

“What, for you? Perhaps you’re accustomed to having your every whim catered to and your life made easy for you, but—”

Whatever Rowan said next was lost to Aelin, who had launched herself at the warrior again before she could talk herself out of it.

This time, rather than deflecting her with his control over the wind, the warrior grabbed her arms and redirected her, neatly throwing her over himself and then standing again as her back hit the dirt. “A few words of advice,” he said, and it infuriated her that he sounded as unaffected as he had when they’d first begun. “I’ve been sworn to my queen as one of her most trusted warriors for almost two centuries longer than you’ve been alive. I promise you I’m meaner, stronger, and tougher than you are. So if riling you up is what it takes…”

In a single fluid motion Rowan leaped at her just as she attempted to rise, knocking her back into the ground and pinning her wrists over her head. “Shift,” he snarled, green eyes blazing against his lightly tanned face.

Aelin rolled her shoulders and glared right back at him. “No.”

As Rowan opened his mouth to growl a reply, Aelin jerked her knee upward. Taking advantage of his surprise, she was successfully able to roll away from him. She rose back up as quickly as possible and gave herself a few moments to take stock of the situation.

As a Fae male, he was superior in every way to the limitations of her own human appearance. He was faster, he was stronger, and even if she did manage to get away he’d be able to track her down. That wasn’t even taking his magic into account. He had already demonstrated his mastery over the winds, and she’d thought his hands seemed colder than they should have when he’d pinned her. A side effect of the winds, she wondered, or a secondary gift?

If she could shift, or if she could access her own magic without burning down everything around her, she might have stood a chance against him. But as it was, she was outclassed in every way, and she growled as she realized her only advantage was that of surprise. Even that would run out soon enough.

Aelin scowled. She might not be able to win this, but she could absolutely dictate the terms of her own defeat. She could do what he expected, throw herself back into the fray until she was beaten down into exhaustion. She could run into the forest, and hope her knowledge of her surroundings could keep her away from him until he tired of the chase. Or…

Aelin sat on the ground and crossed her legs in front of her, smirking as he halted in his tracks. “You first,” she said.

Looking up at his face through her lashes, she grinned as she read the anger and surprise mixing in his expression. What? he seemed to say without words.

“You heard me,” she replied. “You first.”

He growled in response, displaying canines that Aelin realized were definitely more impressive than her own. “Why?”

Aelin carefully suppressed her natural reaction to shiver at the threatening display. The gods knew she’d been in actual danger before, and she would not let him think this was affecting her in the same way. “I don’t know if your queen told you, but we’ve had very few Fae in Terrasen since I was born,” she said. “I’ve never actually seen the shift before. Maybe if I see what it looks like, I’ll have better success.”

She watched as Rowan considered his response, leaning back on her hands. “Fine,” he finally snarled. “Once.”

For a single moment the male was enveloped in a soft white glow, and then a hawk took off from the ground where he had once stood. She looked on as he flew once around the courtyard, and allowed her fingernails to bite into her palms to keep herself from flinching as his landing took him a little too close to her head. She couldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he had gotten to her, after all. Everything depended on her maintaining what little of an upper hand she could.

With another flash of white light Rowan stood before her again, every bit as irritated as he had been before she’d provoked him into shifting. Well? he seemed to say.

Aelin leaned forward, allowing her curiosity to show. “Where do your clothes go, when you shift?”

“Does it matter?” he responded, clearly taken aback.

“Of course it does.”

He sighed. “It doesn’t for you, since your secondary form is roughly the same size as your Fae form, but fine. I don’t know. Doesn’t matter. I don’t think about it.”

“You don’t think about it, and yet you’ve never lost your clothing in a shift?” she asked.

He scowled in response. “I fail to see how this is relevant, but no. I will the shift, and it happens, and I still have my clothes when I shift back.”

Aelin opened her mouth to ask another question, but he cut her off with another growl. “Your turn,” he said. “Shift.”

~*~*~

A week of training passed, and Aelin still had yet to shift on command. Rowan had scrapped with her, yelled at her, growled at her, and generally been the toughest trainer she had ever dealt with, but it was all to no avail.

Worse still, she had actually tried to shift in those rare moments she found herself alone, usually when Rowan stalked off into the forest muttering things she pretended not to hear. She had reached down to where she had felt her magic explode out of her time and again.

There was nothing there but embers and ashes.

Aelin sighed. She had mercifully been given the day off today, so that she could properly greet the dignitaries that would be arriving today. Her friends, from various nations. More would arrive in the coming days, but those she considered dearest would be spending an entire week in Orynth to celebrate her birthday.

If only she could fall asleep, so that she would at least appear somewhat rested. She had already visited a healer for her black eye, but the mental and physical exhaustion were impossible to truly magic away even for the most skilled.

She found she was unable to find rest, though, no matter how hard she attempted to clear her mind. Every time she came close, the same thought ran through her, shaking her to the core.

Today’s the day.

Lysandra’s check into her Regent’s list of eligible marriage candidates was complete. Tonight, they would get together with her newly-arrived friends and sort through what she had been able to find.

Tonight, she would choose someone to seriously court and eventually marry.

Certainly, she hoped that she would be able to work her way out of the requirement to actually marry whoever it was she selected. But Darrow had seemed so adamant that the lords would never fully approve her without a consort. To keep you in line, he had sneered, and she scowled at the memory.

Hopefully Lysandra’s research would reveal a candidate she could at least stand, if she couldn’t avoid marriage altogether.

Finally Aelin gave up on sleep, instead slipping into her closet. While she was greeting dear friends today, their status as Queen of the Wastes and Princess of Ellywe respectively meant that proper dress was required. Skipping over her various tunics and trousers, she smiled when she found exactly the right gown for the day.

The gown was silken in material, color matching the blue of her eyes at the top of the bodice, fading to a paler hue in the skirts that would swirl about her legs as she walked. While it did have long sleeves that clung to her arms with just enough give to allow her to move freely, they sat just below her shoulders, which led to a back low enough to displease Darrow but high enough for propriety. All down the length of the gown golden thread created patterns of branches and flowers. While she would be expected to don something more imposing for her birthday the following week, this would more than suffice for today. She quickly dressed herself, and was working on the ties in the back when Lysandra swept in and took over for her.

Aelin smiled at her friend’s reflection in the mirror they stood before. “Thank you,” she sighed. “I suppose the fact that this is a big day is affecting me.”

“That would explain why you’re overdressed,” Lysandra replied. “If you’re trying to get Darrow on your side, I somehow doubt this gown would succeed. That said, I fully approve regardless. You look stunning.”

“I do try,” Aelin said with a grin. “You’ll be meeting us here tonight, yes? Might as well get it over with.”

“Of course.” Lysandra carefully rearranged Aelin’s skirts before stepping back. “Are you doing something to your hair today, or just throwing on a circlet?”

“Please,” she laughed. “Ansel would tease me mercilessly for standing on ceremony if I showed up in a circlet.” As she spoke, she began to twist parts of her long golden hair into a braid. Most of it would hang down her back, but she carefully pinned the braided top half into a knot at the crown of her head. “They’ll be arriving any minute now, won’t they?”

Lysandra cleared her throat delicately. “Nehemia actually just arrived.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” Aelin demanded, shoving delicate slippers onto her feet before practically flying out of the room, Lysandra following close behind in the form of a cat. Halfway to the throne room where she was to meet her new arrivals, though, she ran into a broad and firm obstacle that she quickly realized was a man. “Oh!” she gasped, startled. “I’m so—”

The apology died on her lips, quickly replaced with a familiar frustration as she looked up and realized she had run into Rowan. “It’s you,” she scowled. “I thought you would be off running through the forest, or perhaps flying over the castle, since I doubt you believe in days of rest.”

“Believe it or not, I do have other duties,” he responded cooly, pine-green eyes seeming to glow within his lightly-tanned face. “If you must know, my queen expects regular updates so that she knows when I’ll be returning. I also train with your guard. I would have more time for both of those duties if you—”

But before he could rile her any further Aelin turned on her heel and breezed into the throne room, ignoring her trainer in favor of beginning to welcome her friends. As the door closed behind her she squared her shoulders, determined to spend just one evening not thinking about Rowan or his harsh training methods at all.

~*~*~

Later that evening Aelin leaned against a pile of pillows on her bed in a robe of dark blue silk, Princess Nehemia Ytger of Ellywe to her left and Ansel of Briarcliff, Queen of the Wastes, to her right. “I never expected you’d be the first of us married off, you know,” Ansel said quietly. “Honestly, I was expecting it to be…” she trailed off, glancing over at Nehemia.

The tall, willowy princess sighed, a small smile gracing her dark features. “You can say it, you know. I was expecting that as well. At least you have options to select from, Aelin.”

“That’s true enough,” Aelin agreed. “Lysandra will be meeting us any moment. I had her researching the list I was given.”

“Do you think she’ll have portraits available?” Ansel grinned. “We can’t marry you off to some ancient noble just because your regent says so.”

At that moment Lysandra slipped into the room, a small stack of papers with her. “Of course I have portraits,” she sniffed. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?”

Aelin sat up straight as the shifter set her papers on the center of the bed and then climbed up to join them. “Very well,” she said. “Let’s hear the first one.”

Lysandra smiled. “You won’t like the first one. It’s Aedion.”

As Aelin scowled, Ansel leaned in. “Your cousin? I suppose it’s not unheard of, but…”

“But nothing,” she responded coolly. “I’m not marrying Aedion and Darrow can’t make me. Next?”

Lysandra shuffled her papers. “Next up is Sartaq, a prince of the Southern Continent.”

“He’s unlikely to agree to a match,” Nehemia pointed out. “He’s first in line for his own throne at the moment, the favorite of his father. As you don’t have an heir he would need to give it up and come here.”

“I agree,” Aelin responded. “We’ll keep him in mind in case the rest of the options are horrid, but it would look better if I made a good faith effort to comply with this requirement before I proposed an option that would never work.”

Lysandra nodded. “I thought you would say that. He’s more distantly related to you, but I discounted Crown Prince Galan Ashryver of Wendlyn for the same reasons as Aedion and Sartaq,” she said as she flipped to a portrait of the male in question.

“If he’s not truly to be considered, why did you bring his portrait?” asked Nehemia.

Ansel grinned. “What Nehemia means to say is thank you for bringing his portrait. For those of us who aren’t related to him, he’s certainly easy to look at.”

Aelin sighed. “Lysandra, is there anyone on this list who might work out?”

Lysandra smiled at her. “There are a few more reasonable options. Lord Chaol Westfall, formerly of Anielle, currently Captain of the Guard in Adarlan.”

Aelin glanced down at the portrait before her, smiling as she was met with an artist’s interpretation of short chestnut hair and coppery eyes. “Unusual, that Darrow would put anyone on the short list who didn’t come from a royal family.”

“It could be a test,” Ansel speculated. “See if you’ll pick what he sees as an inferior choice, just because he’s pretty.”

Nehemia shook her head. “It’s possible, but unlikely. The Westfalls are a very old family in Adarlan, and have been close to the Havilliards for as long as they’ve been in power. He may not have a royal title of his own, but the name does still hold weight.”

“I do have concerns, though,” Aelin remarked. “He currently holds a position that commands great royalty to a monarch that isn’t me, and he would have worked hard to attain that position. I don’t know if he would be easily convinced to be loyal to Terrasen instead, if it were possibly at Adarlan’s expense. It would also be a point of weakness in any future negotiations with Adarlan. Set him aside for now, but we’ll keep him in mind.”

“Very well.” Lysandra set his portrait to one side and returned to her notes, then laughed. “Are you ready for the next candidate on the list?”

Aelin’s eyes narrowed. “Why do I suspect that I’m not going to like this?”

Lysandra grinned and set out the next portrait, and Aelin felt heat at her fingertips at the sight of familiar green eyes. “Prince Rowan Whitethorn of Doranelle.”

“No,” Aelin said sharply. “Even if we hadn’t already met personally, he’s blood-sworn to another queen.”

Lysandra laughed. “You could’ve mentioned you were training with a prince. From what I found, he’s essentially a prince in title alone, more a distant relation of the Queen, but surely it was still worth mentioning?”

“I prefer to discuss him as little as possible,” Aelin said loftily.

“That’s not what Aedion says,” the shifter remarked with a grin.

Aelin growled. “No, and that’s final. Who’s next?”

“The last on the list is Crown Prince Dorian Havilliard of Adarlan,” Lysandra said, revealing a portrait of a young man with sapphire eyes and short dark curls.

“I met him once,” Aelin recalled, “when we were both younger. He spilled his tea on me.”

“Oh, surely you can forgive that,” Ansel said. “He’s attractive enough. Not to mention, your kingdoms are neighbors. Most would support a closer relationship between Terrasen and Adarlan.”

Lysandra smiled. “My contacts here from Adarlan say he’s something of a reformer, bending his father’s ear on all manner of policies to better lives in the country. He’s well loved by his people. And Ansel is correct that he would be more likely than the other crown princes on the list to accept a proposal, given how close your countries are. He has a younger brother, a boy of ten, who he could potentially influence to be a great king. Assuming, of course, he can convince his mother to stop spoiling the boy.”

“A tall order to be sure, from what I hear,” Aelin murmured, but she picked up his portrait regardless.

“He’ll be here next week for your birthday, will he not?” Nehemia asked.

Aelin nodded. “He was among the first to accept the invitation. We can discuss the matter further then. For now, I’ll tell Darrow that I intend to ask him about a courtship. Hopefully that’ll keep him off my back for a little while.”

And as the other girls began to catch up with each other and Lysandra gathered her documents, Aelin stood and walked toward her window, slipping out onto her balcony and gazing up at the familiar constellations. How strange, she mused, that the condition she had thought would be the most difficult to overcome in her ascent to the throne was proving to be the more simple.

As she looked out over the garden, though, loosely braiding her hair in preparation for sleep, she couldn’t help but feel as though this whole matter was about to become more complicated.

#rules of engagement #rowaelin #haven writes

[immortalcoelacanth]

PTA: Science Team (HLVRAI Fic 1/3)

*pulls dusty story out of garage and drops it into Tumblr*

I have been trying to finish the first chapter for AGES, and I finally got it done! I crave PTA AU content due to the wholesomeness and angst, and I just had to work on one short fic for this fandom. So, welcome to the first chapter out of three!

Word count: 1788

Summary: PTA meetings are a sham and no one hates them more than Gordon, but upon being forced to miss a “mandatory” meeting because of work, Benrey comes up with a brilliant idea to deal with this problem.

Chapter 1: Hostile Arrangements Require Equally Hostile Solutions

“Fuck! Shit! Okay-okay, I’ll just-motherfucker she did what?!”

Cursing was in Gordon’s nature. He often used it as a way to express his angry, dismay, shock, and all sorts of other negative emotions. As such it was not unusual to see pacing about and spitting insults left and right. 

What was unusual, however, was the fact that he was cursing in his own home. He had a strict swearing free zone in effect as a way to stop Joshua from picking up on any foul language, including a swear jar that tended to fill up whenever Bubby visited. It was quite fortunate that Joshua was currently being distracted by Benrey as the pair had been playing video games together for the past hour or so. 

Or they had been until, in a surprising display of stealth, Benrey crept out of the young boy’s room and slowly approached the frustrated Gordon. 

Gordon, who was currently continuing to quietly yell into his cell phone. 

“Are you kidding me?! I was scheduled for a meeting on the weekend! I have work tonight! How in the FUCK did she-”

“psssst, hey, hey feetman. you might wanna chill out there and, uh, stuff. turn down the volume.” Benrey cut in while pointing the tv remote at Gordon and clicking the volume button. “don’t wanna be a bad boy and teach joshie any naughty words.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” Gordon sighed, no real anger in his voice before redirecting his attention back to the phone call. “No, not you Natasha, it was just Benrey-”

“tell tasha her cookies are baller.”

“Wha-baller? Who the fuck says baller anymore?!” 

“c’moooooooon man, be a bro.”

“Natasha I am so sorry-tell her that yourself!”

“i can’t feeman, you know i don’t have a phone.”

“YOU WERE THE ONE WHO STUCK IT IN THE MICROWAVE!”

“i-i was just chagrin’ the battery with those radio waves, man. ads… they never lie.”

Laughter could be heard coming from the phone in response to the conversation going on between the two men. It was enough to snap Gordon out of his somewhat enraged state and refocus on whatever it was that Natasha was telling him. He gestured for Benrey to leave and only succeeded in shooing the ex-guard to the kitchen so he could have some peace. 

Not that the peace lasted long based on the muttered cursing and general sounds of Gordon stomping around. 

About ten minutes later, the frustrated physicist joined him in the kitchen, quickly making himself a cup of coffee and grumbling under his breath. Welp, looked like this was the perfect moment for some interrogation. 

“soooooo, wha was that about?” Benrey asked as he took another bite of the block of cheese he had been digging into. If you asked him, he’d say it tasted pretty gouda.

Damn, he needed to torment Gordon with more puns again. 

“Fucking-” Gordon exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his messy hair, too angry to noticed how Benrey reached out and gently pulled at some of the locks, watching them bounce and resume their previously curly shape. “Linda.”

Well, there went his good mood. 

Benrey’s eyes immediately narrowed, becoming nothing more than glowing slits in his shadowy face, as a disgruntled frown replaced his previous smile. Even the cheese in his hand seemed to start burning, smoke wafting off it as it began to melt in response to the sheer anger that name invoked in him. 

Linda Smith, the scourge of the neighborhood and one of the most uptight, pieces of shit that Benrey had ever encountered. A narcissist with a massive superiority complex, she constantly put down everyone around her who she thought of as being inferior.

Which was just a cover for how much of a racist shitwad she was, plus there were the various comments she made about fags invading the neighborhood.

An obvious insult aimed at not just Gordon and Benrey, but the other “not normal” couples that lived here and there. Poor Joshua had overheard some of the insults on multiple occasions, and she had called the kid a mutt to his face-

“Benrey? You wanna calm down before you poke holes in the ceiling again?”

Fortunately, Gordon’s exasperated voice snapped Benrey out of his enraged state before he accidentally inflicted more damage to the kitchen. A place that had seen many, many small explosions and fires. At this point, he towered over the other man as sharpened, boney spikes poked out of his back and scrapped the ceiling. Plaster fell and dusted the countertop. 

“oops, s-sorry dude.” Benrey awkwardly shrugged, flesh dripping from his arms and face in a rather gruesome display, not that Gordon was bothered by this. He was used to how… horrific his partner could become. 

Especially when someone mentioned Joshua being hurt or insulted in any way. It was actually quite wholesome thinking about how much Benrey cared about the young boy and how much their friendship had bloomed since they first met. 

“I get it.” Gordon sighed. “She’s such a bitch she’d make anyone Hulk out.”

“ten points for the ref there, feetman.”

The physicist somewhat seriously flipped Benrey off, making him laugh, before continuing to rant about the purpose of the now finished phone call. 

“I still can’t believe that stupid school listened to her, and I’m not the only one getting fucked over here!” He spat. “I can’t just drop out-”

It was at this moment that the source of Gordon’s rage dawned on Benrey, and the ex-guard spoke up. “wait, the school thingy?”

“You mean meeting?”

“ya.”

Gordon groaned and hid his face in his hands. “The MEETING! Linda fucked up my schedule! I don’t know what she said to the administrator, but they canceled the weekend meeting I was booked for and rescheduled me for tonight. When I have WORK!”

Benrey winced in sympathy and reached out to pat Gordon’s shoulder with his not cheese coated hand. “damn, th-that’s a real cringe move. can’t you get, uh, joshie’s mom to take care of it? s...shea?”

“I can’t,” Gordon muttered, face muffled by his hands. “Shea’s been on a business trip for some conference and she gets back in five days.”

“oooooh, that’s why you’ve had little josh bro for so long?”

Rather than respond, the physicist just continued to groan and hide his face in his hands as he tried to figure out how to fix the mess he had been caught up in. 

Joshua’s school had a very… specific structure to how it was run. Standard funding and where it would be directed was determined by the staff, however, sometimes the school would receive donations or raise large amounts of money through fairs and other events. 

And it was how this extra funding would be spent that the local community had the chance to weigh in on. Determining if it should be used to get more sports supplies, help fund after school programs, or be used to help make the school more accessible. 

The ramp that had been added two years ago was one such example of the potential good that these extra funds had, however there was one problem with this process. 

All parents were required to attend a meeting and voice their thoughts. This was a rather new development that had been added after a small group of disgruntled parents, ones who had objected to using the extra funds to improve the school and arguing that it should go towards planning fun trips instead, had tried to sue the school board. 

Of course, the case had immediately been thrown out and dismissed, but it had set a dangerous precedent. A precedent that now made it mandatory for all parents to attend one meeting to determine their opinions on where the funding should be used and write it down so they could not claim their voices had not been heard. 

Honestly, it was such a stupid arrangement in Gordon’s opinion. Why not just send out an email? Or forms that kids could take home to their parents. It was so… disruptive and annoying, especially for single parents who had to work long hours. 

Like him. 

His hands tensed, nails nearly dug into his skin before Benrey carefully moved them, holding them. As Gordon looked up, the ex-guard sent him an awkward yet warm smile. An attempt at reassuring him that things would turn out alright. 

“hey... you-you gotta chillax feetman, things’ll be okay-”

“How the hell am I supposed to chillax in this situation?!” Gordon barked as he removed his hands from Benrey’s, shoved himself out of his seat, and began pacing around, furiously staring at the floor. 

“I’ve been fucked over by some racist bitch! Joshua needs someone there and it has to be someone who has some kind of guardianship over him for that stupid funding bullshit!”

As his partner raged on about the unfairness and overall stupidity of the situation, Benrey decided that it was time to think. To think, and plot, and come up with something that would hopefully calm Gordon down while solving the problem that Linda had caused. 

Simply put, Joshua needed someone who had designated guardianship over him to be present during the meeting to act in his best interests. Not surprisingly, Benrey did not have this title due as both he and Gordon had agreed that it would not be the best idea due to both his inhumane nature and the potential destruction he might cause. 

But, that did not mean that only Shea and Gordon were listed as the young boy’s guardians. There was one other who had been granted the title in case of an emergency, although his presence had never been needed up until this point, which was probably why Gordon had forgotten about him in his stressed out state. 

Dr. Coomer, one of Joshua’s “grandpas”. 

And, of course, if one member of the Science Team went somewhere, then the rest had to follow. The Science Team stuck together through thick and thin, no matter the strife or struggle and always left chaos in their wake. 

Hostile arrangements required equally hostile solutions, after all. 

“this is gonna be baller.” Benrey chuckled, his eyes flashing brightly at the brilliance of his plan. Now all he had to do was get Gordon to agree to it.

“pssst, yo, xen to gaydon.”

There was something about the tone that Benrey’s voice took on that snapped Gordon out of his ranting. How calm and collected he sounded, the coherency and confidence in his words. Somewhat concerned, the physicist turned around and saw the scheming look in the ex-guard’s glowing eyes as his fingers drummed on the table. 

“feetman, i got a plan.”

                                             xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I would like to make it clear that no offense is intended towards anyone named Linda, aside from the one racist Linda I know that she was named after who will never, ever read this so my sins will forever remain unknown :>

#my story #fanfiction #hlvrai #hlvrai gordon #hlvrai benrey #pta au #humor #quick warning that a racist and homophobic character is mentioned #and as such her crimes of using slurs are used #chapter one of three

[hiddendreamer67]

“Do you ever feel like you don’t belong?” For the au where the Sides shift sizes?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Finale (here!)

In a world where the sides shrink or grow based on their emotions/egos, Logan is still holed away in his room at a few inches tall. The others are finally let in and do their best to help the micro-soft nerd.

October Prompt #15: Control

 I think this is the final part of shrinking-sides! Check out more of my writing at @hiddendreamerwriting!

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

Logan hid his flinch well, attempting to retain at least a small amount of his composure as his perceptively gigantic fellow sides creaked open the door, Roman being the first to show himself. It was intimidating to say the least, and certainly far worse than the sensation of being overpowered by the size of his bedroom alone.

“Wow, you’re so small.” Roman stated obviously.

“I’m well aware of my stature, Roman.” Logan huffed, his cheeks blazing as he turned away from their prying eyes. 

“Yes, well, no need to get huffy, Microsoft Nerd.” Roman gave a huff of his own. Patton peeked around Roman, letting out a soft gasp.

“Oh my goodness you’re absolutely adorable.” Patton spoke softly, clearly trying (and failing) to keep from being overheard. Logan’s cheeks reddened further, the current littlest member of Thomas’ subconscious quickly feeling the situation slip further out of his control as they entered the premises.

“This is bad.” Virgil let out a hiss of breath through his teeth, coming in behind Patton and suddenly Logan was beginning to feel very outnumbered. “Logan. What the hell.” 

“Language.” Patton gently smacked him. “And Logan… what happened, kiddo?”

“Ah….” Logan’s statement trailed off. How was he meant to explain that he had lost control of his emotions? He was logic, and rationality. Logan shouldn’t be influenced by petty feelings; it was positively embarrassing. It proved that Logan was incapable of performing even his most basic of functions. Perhaps he was not necessary at all, and Thomas would become a more effective human system without his involvement-

Logan flinched, startled out of his wits as the other three sides simultaneously bumped their heads on the ceiling, forcing all involved parties to duck at an awkward angle.

“...ow.” Virgil winced, ducking lower to rub at his neck. “Don’t do that again.”

Logan clenched his hands at his sides, frustrated that his struggles had become so transparent. “I am not doing so intentionally.”

“Oh sweetie, we know.” Patton gave him a pitying look, kneeling down in front of Logan and yet still towering over the shrunken individual. “Here, let me help-”

“No!” Logan hastily rejected the offer, backpedaling away from the approaching hand. “I don’t- I’m not in need of assistance.” 

“And that’s why you’re the size of my hand?” Virgil slumped to the ground on Logan’s right, holding up his palm for emphasis. “Oh wait, smaller, because thanks to you we can’t stop growing.”

There was a thump, and Logan quickly turned his head to see Roman had taken up residence sitting on his left. The three giants were encasing him, leaving Logan feeling trapped and cornered. He bit his lip, looking up to Roman and waiting for the quip he was certain would come at any moment. 

Roman tilted his head, an uncharacteristically thoughtful expression on his face. “...Do you ever feel like you don’t belong?”

“Roman!” Patton gasped, a disappointed look crossing his features. "You're not reacting quite like I thought you would. I expect better from a charming prince like you.”

“Yeah, what the hell, princey?” Virgil hissed, and this time he wasn’t corrected for his language. “We already know he can shrink, no need to make it worse.”

“That- that’s not what I meant!” Roman looked off put by everyone’s critics. “I was making a point, you know.”

Logan frowned, not expecting the insult to be so blatant. “Are you implying that this mindset is logical?”

“No, no no no!” Roman groaned, wiping his hand down his face. “I’m trying to empathize with you here, why does no one get that? I’ll have you all recall I’m the one who’s been in this situation before.”

“Yes, and you handled that spectacularly.” Virgil rolled his eyes. 

“We can just do and say the same things again!” Patton said, his eyes shining with determination. “Logan, you are amazing and smart and we love you!”

Nothing happened.

“Uh…” Virgil shifted, looking uneasy. “I dunno, try harder?”

“Please will you let me cuddle you?” Patton whined, reaching for Logan again who ducked out of the way.

“Absolutely not!” Logan insisted. “I will not be handled like… like…”

“Like a helpless doll?” Roman offered.

The room went quiet, and Logan took a moment to reconsider the way Roman was acting. “...yes.” Logan agreed finally. 

Roman nodded. “You feel like you’re nothing. Like you don’t matter, and it doesn’t matter if we tell you you’re wrong because then it’s just going to hurt more because you were wrong and Logic’s never wrong, is he?”

The other two sides looked at Roman with puzzled expressions. Meanwhile Logan’s own jaw dropped, concerned at Roman’s new apparent skill in telepathy. “How... how were you aware of these thoughts?”

“Because they’re true.” Virgil butt in, looking to Roman for reassurance that he was indeed in on the plan and not about to make everything worse. With a nod from Roman, he continued. “If a side really mattered they wouldn’t shrink.”

“Falsehood.” Logan frowned, gesturing to Roman. “Creativity is an essential part of Thomas’ personality.”

“And so is Logic.” Patton insisted. “Logan, we need you.”

“That is not factually accurate.” Logan began to pace back and forth. “I could easily be replaced-”

“By who?” Roman scoffed. “I operate in a realm of fantasy, Patton’s head is in the clouds, and Virgil, well his line of reasoning puts us over the edge of the Yankovic curve.”

“Yerkes-Dodson curve.” Logan corrected. 

“Why does Thomas need any of us?” Virgil shrugged. “We’re not real. It just means Thomas is insane, and by the looks of things in desperate need of some therapy.”

“Virgil, don’t say such things!” Patton scolded.

“Indeed.” Logan agreed, shooting Virgil a look over the edge of his glasses. “It is quite a common coping mechanism for humans to envision manifestations of themselves as leaders for certain necessary functions. At this point we’ve become so ingrained in his subconscious that a separation from our existence could be detrimental.”

“So what you’re saying, Little L, is that we exist?” Roman questioned. 

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Logan nodded.

“But we’re not people.” Virgil crossed his arms. “We don’t have emotions.”

“You know that statement is illogical.” Logan rolled his eyes. “Patton is quite literally the embodiment of emotions.”

“I think he meant we all have emotions.” Roman supplied gently.

Patton’s mouth formed a perfect ‘o’, finally catching on. 

“I...suppose that our existence has evolved beyond our mere functions, as evidenced by our names, most strongly exhibited in Virgil.” Logan rationalized. “If that is truly the case, it’s possible that, yes, several of us may experience something that is equivalent to human emotions from time to time-”

“Logan.” Patton interrupted gently, wringing his hands together. “It’s… it’s okay for you to have feelings, kiddo.” 

Logan paused his pacing, looking down at his feet. “...I am aware that you hold that opinion.”

“Oh come on, we were so close!” Roman groaned. “We were so close! Why can’t you just accept our help?”

“I should not require help.” Logan answered. “Rationality should be able to control emotions.”

“And what about Logan?” Roman argued. “I mean you already said you’re more than your functions now.”

“I still need to be in control to perform admirably.” Logan continued to insist, sitting down. 

“Bullshit.” (“Language.”) Virgil gave Patton a glare to tell him now was not the time for censoring. “Logan, are emotions logical?”

“Absolutely not.” Logan answered immediately. “They are complicated and illogical and infuriating.”

“And if they’re illogical, then why would a person who’s the embodiment of logic be able to handle them alone?” Virgil waved his hand slowly, urging Logan to catch on.

“Emotions are my realm, kiddo.” Patton reminded him. “Wouldn’t it make sense to accept our help?”

“Yes, indeed!” Roman clapped his hands, gleeful that things were going according to plan. “And certainly you should be able to tell when we’re telling you facts, like the fact that even if you’re a stick in the mud Thomas still needs you.”

Thomas still needs you. “I suppose there is some truth to what you’re saying.” Logan nodded thoughtfully, a hopeful warmth blooming in his chest.

“Logan, even when you’re a clueless moron, you’re still the one who wrangles the rest of us morons together.” Virgil smirked.

“You’re the smartest Einstein we’ve got!” Roman tacked on.

“Inaccurate, but appreciated.” Logan allowed a small smile to grow on his features. 

“You’re going to be okay.” Patton assured him.

Logan’s leg bumped something. He looked up, finding Patton to be at eye level, and realized that in his daze he had grown back to his original size.

“Thank you.” Logan glanced to the sides, expecting to see at least one person giving him a knowing or condescending look. Instead all three faces were warm, gentle. Welcoming. “All of you.”

Patton squealed, launching himself at Logan. “Group hug!” 

The others were quick to follow suit, tackling the nerd to the ground with ease. Despite their increased proximity, Logan found the action unintimidating this time. Instead their presence comforted him, grounding him in his ability to facilitate his duties with ease and reassuring him that they would be willing to assist him in any future emotional endeavors. 

Logan considered their odd behavior upon entering his room. Rather than smother him with kindness and lord over their superiority on this topic that was so new to Logan, the others had granted him the opportunity to come to the right conclusions enough. 

“Thank you.” Logan said again, finding that he couldn’t say it enough.

#gt #g/t #sanders sides #shrinking #logan sanders #logan #patton sanders #patton #roman sanders #roman #virgil sanders #virgil #prompts #gt prompts #gt sentence prompts #platonic prompts #sentence prompts #my writing #mandy writes #writing #man i really did used to tag everything huh #shrinking sides #finale #aaaaaaaah i'm so glad this finally exists

[acefrogmonarch]

HC pt. 3

Story Time! with the bat fam

The bat language!

It's just glares and different forms of glares. Semi-glare. Glare. Glare-glare. That's about five sentences.

Ravin has cracked the code and communicated with them. They understand why Raven could but not how Mari understands them.

They are very confused because this little flower shouldn't, like why??? She wears her heart on her sleeve and you can tell when she's angry or sad. Dick and bruce do it but Mari catches them.

Unknown to them, when Mari wants to be, she can 'cut' off her emotions.

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.

.

Mari found Damian to be semi-attractive. Damian was like eh, she's another girl.

But he was about 5'11 at this point, and for years to come, he would grow. Mari, herself, is barely reaching 5ft. She considers herself lucky that she even reaches 5'5.

She was 20 when she did.

She is very angry at taller beings than her. Dick is 5'11 while Jason is 6'3, Bruce is taller than both of them.

Mari hates them all. Jason still calls her a bean, even when she has him in a choke-hold during a sparring match. Mari will not hesitate to throw hands. Instead of mellowing out, she did the opposite.

.

Jason Todd has had sex with Talia before and he hangs it over Damian's head for years.

As a challenge, he brought it up in front of Marinette. Any other time Damian would have left but since Mari was here, he couldn't. Damian stayed but Mari was like

“Why???" Tugging, cause they were holding hands. "Mari, lovebug, Malak, Habi Alghali. Let's go." Mari is a dissatisfied bean. Reluctantly follows Dami away.

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.

.

The Outlaws consisted of Kori, Roy, and Jason!

When they hang out they always have ‘baked’ goods. They were eating edibles in the city but they somehow made their way to the manor for munchies. Alfred asked if they had any left.

Assuming to part with them, they lied and said no. (they always do)

Alfred still searched the trio moved the treat around. Some sour straps, molly ranchers, and a joint.

Alfred took some straps and popped them in.

"Wait, Alfred, that's-" "I know." They will never forget. Bruce semi-believes them.

High!Mari

Mari never took a stance on cannabis. "Too young." was the excuse often used when talking about it. She was 16.

She knew what they did. It wasn't until, Gotham, that she got real experience with edibles.

Roy accidentally gave her 300mg of cannabis.

"I got brownies!" Roy came in the room, granted it was one of Jason's many hideouts and they had agreed to hang out before Mari was dragged away.

"Jason, Let's get blazed!" Roy kicked the door in and Mari took a stance, Jason got out his babies and pointed them at the door. "Uhh." Roy slowly backed out, Jason put away his guns and Mari bounced in excitement.

"Brownies!" Plucking one from the bag, Mari smelled it first. "Mari, no." Mari turned, then plopped it in her mouth, stuffed her hand in the bag and took a bunch more.

Eating 3 more and stuffing some for Tikki. Jason sighed deeply. "Dammit." It sweet chaos for Mari after that.

First, an anxiety attack then bliss. She was never afraid of heights from being Ladybug, and that just added more fun for Mari.

Damian doesn't find out until he calls Mari.

Because Mari was supposed to come back and hang out, they promised. No, Damian was not upset by the fact that Jason is not better company than him.

Not at all. Damian is superior in every way! His ringing phone brought him back to reality.

"Mari, get away from there!" That's Jason. Marinette was giggling and Damian could here the wind.

"No way, Jose," Roy shouted in the background. "Who's jOsE?!?!" Marinette laughed loudly and Damian was starting to question his existence.

"Mari, Baby girl, Demon tamer. Get off the ledge." There was an eerie silence. "Oh, that reminds me. Hi, Damian."

That's it. "Ya Qamar Barid, I'm coming to get you." Marinette started to sob at that. "I MISSED OUR MEET UP, DIDN'T I???" Damian was already driving off, he traced the call.

"No, not at all Habibti. I was just thinking about where we should eat out." Marinette stopped crying.

"Really?" Damian confirms. "Mhm." "Je vais à la pizzeria que je veux, amant.* ”  The call ends and Damian is NOT panicking.

(I go to the pizzeria i want, lover.)*

Marinette hanged up and jumped down to the apartment below. "MARI!!" Jason was going to lose so many years of this. This small bean should be very afraid.

Jason jumped after her with Roy following on the other side. "Oh, shit. Mari!" Roy regrets everything leading up to this point. At first, it was funny, seeing anyone try for the first time is.

Jason caught up to Mari, who has made it down 4 apartments. They were on the 5th floor.

Almost went splat on the pavement a couple of times.

Damian pulls up in one of the many cars, he's hot-wired before. Mari doesn't notice she's trying to climb down from the first floor to the ground. She jumps to a flag and misses.

Damian catches her before she hits the ground. "Damnit Habibti."

Marinette giggles. "I would have been fine, you know that." Damian carried her back to the car, Mari's complaining the entire time.

Once she's seated in the cold car, she promptly falls asleep.

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.

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.

Lila causes problems for Mari, on purpose but for the wrong reasons.

To spend time with her. Lila is never going to admit that she likes or even remotely revolves her world around Mari. Max points it out to Mari and has tried to get Lila to confess.

Likes to make Marinette mad. When her cheeks go red Lila accidentally lets out a, “She’s cute.” Mari turned to her. “What?” Lila panics and shouts. “I said you’re shit!” Mari is a very confused bean.

The only reason why this is brought up is that they make Lila have Sociopathic tendencies. Like Oni-chan didn’t make sense. Why let go of Adrien? Willing? Better question, why only focus on Mari? Unless you know. . . . . . Just saying.

.

A lot of mini ships. Like Alix x Chloe.

Alix and Chloe are secretly dating. Sabrina covers for both of them when it’s date night. Alix’s parents know that she’s gay but not Chloe’s. She doesn’t know why she’s scared.

But she doesn’t like that way her dad dismisses gay pride parades. Marinette helps her come to terms and even helps go through her emotions and to come out.

Still doesn’t come out until very much later. Uses Adrien as an excuse. Adrien knows what she means.

Chloe's mother is alright, you know ,gay pride. She joins the parades and makes small nods in her designs.

Eventually Max x Kim!

Alix and Kim are best friends and they help each other out because they always get the wrong advice.

Max and Kim ‘got together’ because Kim didn’t want to date Odine. Max doesn’t think they are dating.

So Kim makes an effort for their relationship and friendship. Alix dared Kim to date Chloe on valentine’s day, Max was there. He didn’t even hear Chloe’s answer but that didn’t matter because, at that moment.

Max heard and Kim understood why he felt like ‘that’ around Max. Max said congratulations and that just broke Kim's heart. Max is not very good at emotions.

"Mom already has enough on her plate." "I don’t need to trouble her." Max to Kim at some point.

Very later. Marc x Nathanial! Fw/B at 17

Nath only shines when art is involved. Has done sculpting and embroidery lessons from Mari, because he doesn’t want to be limited to one form of expression. Digital music is not his thing. Instruments on the other hand. Band nerd.

Sneaks into Higher writing courses. The teachers let him. He’s so talented in creating a universe from nothing. Marc had let the director of the ‘LB and CN Movie.’

Look at some of his stuff but once some criticism on Twitter started to get deleted for some reason, Marc asked around. Bad plot and all, he dismisses the story “Astruc” approved and did another one. Just because he made one good thing doesn’t mean he made the rest just as great.

Yes I am dissing Thomas

.

.

I am changing this.

No relationship. Luka helps Kagami realize that not everything in sexuality is as black as white because im a sucker for Les Kagami and Bi Luka. They can find happiness with people.

Emotions? What’s that. Barely there. No chill. Whatsoever. Sarcasm? Come again. She can make sarcastic jokes but won’t know it if it hits her in the face.

Knows exactly what you're talking about but at the same time doesn’t. Can’t relate. It’s very frustrating because she won’t disobey without feeling guilty. Mari, Adrien, and Luka help tear down her walls and ‘need to approve’ attitude. A lot of walls around her heart.

Adrien doesn't like or feel any attraction besides strong feelings.

Demi? Or Ace. Maybe Ace.

He is very disappointed when he doesn't feel explosions or fireworks when he kisses Lila (It was for a shoot, maybe audition.)

Parents fighting? Middle of most argument. Afraid of failing his father because his mother was like that?

The acting was put on hold but she would sneak out for auditions. Natalie helped her sneak out. He can’t trust Gabrial but trust his mother's judgment and maybe Natalie.

He doesn’t know what to do because Mari is, best friend and Lila don’t like Best Friend. But Mari said it was okay when it wasn’t! Proud owner of at least one brain cell.

Eventually Rose x Juleka!

Very concerned with Juleka’s being. She wants Juleka as more than a friend but if Juleka isn’t comfortable with it.

Then she can wait until she’s ready. Her father supports but her mother doesn’t. She makes fun of her depression.

World of patience. Rose and she aren’t dating but they are saving for each other. Juleka was delirious when this happened. She’ll never admit her feelings. Worried about how people would act.

And of course Alya x Nino once Alya gets her head on straight.

These are mini-stories. I'm going to reference these and mention them when I can in the story.

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Bruce has movie nights.

No one knows where it is or what movie he watches. Alfred has an idea, and the boys keep trying to find where he goes. It's been so long since he's had something nice in his life.

He... adores his... children. To some extent. Okay, a lot.

But that didn't mean he could show how much he... loved them.

Regardless, they bring trouble where ever they go. Finally getting the conviction to watch a movie, he kept the tradition every chance he got.

Marinette accidentally found him at one of the run-down movie theaters around Gotham. A new movie she was excited for was already released in America but after Sams Club™

She never allowed them anywhere near her in a public place. It was chaos last time. She memorized the way to this theatre and avoided all the cameras. She checked, multiple times. On patrol.

Both, Mari and Damian, are 16.

Bruce is 38, Jason is 24, Dick is 26, Tim is finally 21. Dami is a winter baby. December. Mari is a Fall baby. October 8th.

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.

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When Adrien and Mari hang out together, Mari loses one brain cell While Adrien gains one.

They can never get anything accomplished if it doesn't involve the miraculous in some way. Mari was talking about a recent design, Adrien was in the middle of drink soup on this cold day.

Marinette stopped talking as Adrien struggled to get a single noddle in his mouth. Mari opened her mouth to try and say something, but Adrien managed to get the noodle in and grinned. As if, he just got the best Christmas gift, ever.

Mari lost if after that. "A-Adrien!" Clutching her stomach, Mari continued to laugh, Adrien joined in laughing at the slurping noise he made Nino walked in a moment ago to them laughing. It was lunchtime and they went ahead of the Alya and Nino.

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Fu is a touchy subject with Marinette.

After the left with his past lover, he shortly passed away. Marianna wrote a letter back to Marinette and that just broke the Dam she built around her emotions.

Chat Noir revealed to be Adrien to destroy the Akuma after her.

Mari, as the newly appointed Guardian, didn't take away his miraculous. No one else was able and she didn't want anyone else to break down from the weight of responsibility.

Chat Noir took his duty with more dignity and less comical after the reveal.

I just saw the Chat Blanc trailer and.. I had this idea before but omg this is weird.

Let's.

Not.

Get.

This.

Bread.

Like most of this is going to be in Book 2. Book 1 is set in Paris, following Marinette. Book two is in Gotham, following Damian 

#Maribat #marinette x damian #daminette #damian x marinette #Maridami #mari #marinette dupain cheng #headcanons #Cool

[armsdealing]

@neotropical​ sent: 10, 12, 15, 18, 26, 26 for Shiro | 28, 31, 36, 40 for Fenrir character development questions / inbox cleaning.

SHIRO.

10. what energizes and drains them most? shiro is introverted. heavy social interaction can drain him really fast, especially inane social interaction like small talk. paradoxically, being idle can also drain him. if he's not sleeping or eating, or reading or using his mind in some fashion, he'd rather be out there in the field, investigating cases and trying to solve them. he's a bit workaholic, and feeling like he's doing nothing worthwhile can affect his mood.

12. how are they bodily expressive? how do they use nonverbal cues such as their posture, stance, eyes, eyebrows, mouths, and hands? he's more expressive than he gives himself credit for, though most emotions tend to be negative, like annoyance or irritation or suspicion, if not outright anger cuz he's grumpy as fuck. he has expressive eyes even in wolf form, and since they are devoid of color the dilatation of the pupils is very clearly visible when he's agitated. body wise, he also goes tense, hackles proverbially raised, fists balled up, mouth pinched into a frown (or flashing fangs), standing tall or slightly crouched as if to lunge. his body language is pretty authoritative, typical of his species. and though like i said most of the emotions can be negative, he's not above showing emotional vulnerability. if he feels moved, he can truly start to cry right then and there (albeit stoically) without carinh, and if he's content/pleased/happy he's not above smiles -- though they are rare.

he's also easy to make blush if flirted with too heavily.  :/

15. what kind of inner life do they have — rich and imaginative? calculating and practical? full of doubts and fears? does it find any sort of outlet in their lives? mostly on the practical side, that's for sure. he tends to be motivated toward concrete goals, and is very good at staying focused. of course, he is not above occasionally daydreaming and losing track of things. this happens especially when not engrossed by something; his mind is full with grief regarding his past, as well as wariness toward the future, and that can lead him into brooding. his main outlet for his thoughts is his job as a social worker and private investigator. he finds it very rewarding that he can put his skillset to good use for the benefit of the community.

18. what kind of person could they become in the future? what are some developmental paths that they could take, (best, worst, most likely?) what would cause them to come to pass, and what consequences might they have? what paths would you especially like to see, and why? best case scenario shiro becomes a more tolerant person of humans, learning to understand and accept the gradations to their morality and that some humans are okay, while also learning to cope with his trauma in a healthy fashion, growing all around more emotionally open. along those lines he also accepts that he can have romantic feelings for someone without negating his sense of purpose and identity as a vigilante slash undercover god dlfkjdkf.

worst case scenario he distances himself more from the warmer side of him and opts to become a cruel and punitive deity that sees things mostly in black and white terms (something he already does to an extent) and doesn't form actual relationships with anybody, opting instead to dedicate himself to slaughtering humans he deems evil. basically it's a regression: going back to the same place where he was before making it to anima city and turning his life around.

both are likely, but of course the most likely is the former one if things go ideally -- like if he has more positive contacts with humans, and if others manage to get through to him emotionally. basically friendship and love will save him.

i'm good with either path tho of course i want to see him become healthier. i'm not opposed to him getting worse before he gets better, because i do love myself some drama.

26. how do they view and feel about relationships, and how might this manifest in how they handle them, if it does? he doesnt have many of them. most are purely incidental and tho they are positive they're not very deep. it's mostly work related or people that leave in his apartment building that he chats with from time to time or like, the owner of the coffee shop he frequents ddfjh. he thinks they are okay but at the same time he feels awkward and doesn't know how to go about them. he feels distant (his past and status as a god play a role no doubt) and even tho occasionally he wants to be closer to people he doesn't know how to even start. he's also a bit of a jerk and that doesn't help.

27. what do they strongly like and dislike, in any category? why? shiro greatly dislikes humans as a result of his past, being a victim of a massacre where all but himself died (purely on incident, since he was beheaded). he thinks they are all an irredeemable and violent bunch who sees his people as lesser. he also doesn't like beastmen that work with humans, seeing them as just as bad as humans too. in a more casual note he does not like the cult that has formed around his person, he thinks it's all a bunch of scammers trying to make money off his image. he wants to do something about it but isn't yet sure what.

he likes seeing anima city prosper and thrive and see beastmen happy; it genuinely warms his heart. and he likes children a lot. he has worked with the city to find many orphaned children better homes. he also has an affinity for boots and sweaters. 😌

FENRIR.

28. what are they likely to do if they have the opportunity, resources, and time to accomplish it? why? i mean if he had the opportunity resources and time odin would be DEAD already dfjgdhjfg prophecy be damned. he would've already put down a lot of asgardians, if not asgard itself. other than that... he's off and on about the idea of forming a legitimate pack. he could do it but it's a risky move considering gods are always cutting him short whenever they think he's getting 'too powerful'. but those things aside he doesn't want for much and he DOES already have the resources and time to do whatever he wants... to an extent.

31. is there anything that counts as a “dealbreaker” for them, positively or negatively? what makes things go smoothly, and what spoils an activity or ruins their day? why? fenrir has a short fuse and on bad days if you get on his nerves he will kill you. i mean he will really just shoot you dead for annoying him if he doesn't feel like acting civil. disrespecting him is a big no-no, he has a low tolerance for idiocy and people who think they can act all insolent around him. if you think you're close enough to get away with that you need to give yourself and ur relationship with him a long hard look because chances are you're wrong. acting like you're better than him/superior to him? dealbreaker. pitying him in any way? also a big dealbreaker. it truly annoys him. he will sooner stop talking to you than entertain your sympathy, even if what he's going through is worthy of it. he doesn't want anything to do with it. other things that can ruin his day is pain flares due to his bound status -- he deals with chronic pain 24/7, and it's the source of most of his bad moods.

as for things that makes situations go smoothly -- if the pain is unusually mild that given day. nice food or drink, or completed jobs, and presence of people he likes (family, or lovers)

36. how much do they rely on their minds and intellect, versus other approaches like relying on instinct, intuition, faith and spirituality, or emotions? what is their opinion on this? fenrir is more instinct and intuition than intellect, but he is by no means dumb. he is hypersensitive and hyperaware of things and is constantly processing amounts of information that would knock out the average human, and acting accordingly to it all. his hunches are usually correct and he's quite capable of analysis and deductive reasoning when necessary -- take for example when he quite correctly guessed that asgardians where trying to trick him with gleipnir. emotions play less of a role when it comes to serious decision making, tho yeah like anybody sometimes he will act purely on passion if its something that affects him to such a degree. he doesn't feel any particular way about it, and is confident in his decision making (perhaps sometimes overconfident but yh y'know, that happens), since it tends to work for him.

40. what do they wonder about? what sparks their curiosity and imagination, and why? how is this expressed, if it is? for a long long time(pre-binding) midgardian culture truly sparked his curiosity. he wanted to learn about humans and how they operated and the things they liked to do. after this curiosity was satiated he doesn't express wonder over many things. he has unanswered questions about the fate of the world and how fate will play out but virtually everyone does. he would rather spend his time in the present than invest a lot of time simply thinking about the future. simply put, he is not an imaginative person. 

#* fenrir. #* silver. #answered ooc.

[lavendersyrop]

Fata Morgana

Glasgow, 10am

Thursday. Chemistry class. I’m sitting in the back of this boring but at the same time intriguing class. Chemistry. I’m not a fan of long conversations about why helium has high thermal conductivity. Even though I’m here sitting in the back drawing in my notebook. The notebook I choose to be my agenda actually become my art journal where every page is full of black ink, messed with my fingertips (because I’m not so attentive when it’s come to drawing). Here and there are written a few quotes that I’ve read in my English literature class “Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.” And one name, one beautiful short name written in messy handwriting, dotted or with big shrift. Crossed with black lines and eyes sketches that have the same shape on every page.

Striking eyes that I remember by heart, every little detail, each line! How they shine, how sleepy they look when they are tired. I remember them. I can tell you and retell how tantalizing their spectrum are, how I close mine and see them in front of me. Haunting my every dream. My mind while I’m in class debating Shakespeare.

Right now I can’t see them, but I don’t need to because I can imagine. I’ve my notebook full of them. Big blue eyes somewhere between gunmetal and sky blue. My parents warned me about addictions, but they didn’t warned me about blue eyes.

Blue eyes, skin like the inner swell of a seashell, a ghost of beauty expressed by an alluring body, chocolate hair colored with a little tone of mahogany and golden that create a beautiful crown...

“Jamie”

Delicate, elegant hands…

“James. James Fraser” I look up at my teacher who by now was already beside me.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your inner monologue, but can you please come back to us,” she said with a big smile, Mrs. Simmons is always smiling, you can say that she maybe is just a type of happy person, but I see on her face shades of pain and sadness.

“I’m so sorry, I started thinking about helium but my thoughts throw me on the other side of magic potions.”

Mrs. Simmons smiled again with her big brown kind eyes. She understands that I don’t have any relations to chemistry and I think she guessed why I choose it.

“Okay class, for today is enough. For the next class, I want you to get paired with someone and make a project together with the title “ Chemistry and … “ you have together to choose any other subject that somehow interact with chemistry, this can be a non-science domain. Because is just the beginning of the year and I know that you’re still in the summer spirit, I made a list of each of you already grouped so to say. Remember you have only 2 weeks, make it worthy.”

I look at that list with my breath growing deeper and slower.

"Mrs. Simmons, can we change our partners?"

"Why you ask Jamie, you don't like miss Beauchamp?" by her look I can see that she is just joking and probably she didn't mean it. But I can feel how my cheeks and ears are turning red.

"No, I just thought that maybe miss Beauchamp want to be partner with Frank, that's all"

I can feel each of my classmates' judgemental looks on me, but I'm really afraid right now, even though I don't know why. You see, miss Beauchamp is the owner of those eyes, I told you a few minutes ago, I can't be near to her. Because... because I like her, I have got a crush on her. I like her from my first year here. 'I like her' is an easy to express my feelings. She is my every second thought. I wanted so many times to come to her and just start talking, say 'hi' or even just wave her, I can't. I didn't try but I don't even want to, because I know I will get freak out.

You see, miss Beauchamp is dating Frank Randall, the one who knows history, politics and is all time favorite student. He is the smart one, always punctual, dressed better than most of our teachers, with a great car and a dad who provide him everything he wants. I'm his opposite. I don't like politics, I have a pickup truck and a big obsession with literature and art. We have a common thing and that is 'miss Beauchamp'.

“ It’s okay, here is no need to change the list “ miss Beauchamp said.

“Then good luck everyone. See y’all next time!

Jamie can you stop for a minute” she said in her most caring way.

While everyone packed their backpacks, I had this urge to look at miss Beauchamp. Looking at her I see that she is thinking of something or something bothers her. I pray that this is not my comment about partners.

When you start to love someone and this love is just one way, you want at least to be seen as good as you can, as smart as you can. You want to be more than you actually are, because you have dreams and hopes, you consider that they will see in you as good option. They will see your worth and will feel attracted to you.

That’s me right now.

I didn’t want to sound like an ungrateful loser who thinks so highly of himself.

As I return from my thoughts, the chemistry class was already empty.

“ Jamie, come closer please! “

“ Jamie, I really want to know what is going on with you now, you seem very distracted. I know you don’t have any feelings for chemistry” she said with a big smile. Sometimes I don’t get her at all.

“ but last year you were at least present here, all.” She gesticulate to show the importance of this sentence. “ I want to know because if you will be distracted all the time I will ask for your transfer to another class or teacher. I like you, not because you have many possibilities in chemistry, I like you because you’re honest with me. I never saw someone to be so open and yet to feel like he’s holding something. I need you to open this time with me and to tell me what’s going on?!”

While she speaks so quietly and yet so fierce, I started to feel like I own an apology to her and to miss Beauchamp.

“ I’m really sorry, Mrs. Simmons. I know you want to know what’s up with me, but I don’t know myself. I feel distracted but not the obvious kind of distraction. I think I’m just tired.”

She looked at me with her big brown eyes, and her eyes give me more encouragement than any word she ever said.

“ I promise I’ll do better. I know I can. I’ll try better and I will be back myself.” I said this with a big smile, hoping that this will end our conversation.

“Okay Jamie. I believe in you and trust you. Have a good day.”

I return to my desk and I took my backpack, trying to escape from everything as quickly as possible.

“And Jamie...” her voice stopped me.

“ I know that in English class they teach you to see love as something powerful, sweet destructive and so important to our soul. You see it as mirage somewhere at the horizon, then you recreate it in your mind over and over again. But if you want a true love you don’t have to recreate it in your mind, you have to ‘create’ it here and there.

In English class you may have the strength to wait for a unimaginable love, but at chemistry if something is not happening right. We change the substance to something more efficiently.

If the results is coming slowly, we just add another matter as impulse for a good and quickly result!”

She just winked at me and continued to organize her papers.

•

•

•

•

•

•

PS. A Fata Morgana is a complex form of superior mirage that is seen in a narrow band right above the horizon

English is my 5th languages so if I did some mistakes please tell me & i know in OL books Claire has brown eyes, but Cait has blue so i kept this detail.

PSS. I wrote this 2 (maybe 3) years ago. In order to say thank you to @whiskynottea (hi from GigiAnderson on ao3) cuz her fanfic helped me gain peace in my own home. I never posted it cuz I'm super nervous when it comes to that, so I'll act like i never did it.

#outlander #jamie x claire #jamie and claire #claire beauchamp #caitriona balfe #my first fanfic

[you-get-to-exhale-now-cyrus]

i don’t act

summary: the school play is here, and cyrus ends up dragging tj into the mess. feelings, lines, stage makeup.

ship: tyrus, some landi

word count: 6189

notes: this is inspired by this post and headcanons from @swingsetboys

Cyrus peeked his head through the door of Mr. Coleman’s room. It was the weirdest feeling, being a teacher’s room without them there. It’s like finding a secret room in a video game. Andi and Libby were already sitting there, feet up on the desks. He chuckled, walking in; Coleman would have scolded them like heck for that.

“Cyrus, you came!” Andi exclaimed, clapping her hands together. Libby smiled approvingly, waving at him.

“Yes, you finally pestered me enough to join stage crew,” he sighed dramatically, sitting down on one of the spinny chairs with a definitive ‘plonk’.

‘You like theatre, though. You’re here by choice’ Libby signed, a knowing look on her face. Cyrus pouted, crossing his arms and turning his attention to a poster that said ‘Math is ADDictive!’

“Fine, maybe I am here by choice,” he mumbled, watching a few other people filter in, “but I’m just going to end up backstage waiting to change a light or find a prop or something.”

Andi hummed disapprovingly. “Don’t say that. You have no idea what the power of theatre can do.”

The meeting was pretty successful, with a good turn out. A lot of people Cyrus had never seen were there, and were clearly passionate about theatre. He was really looking forward to making some more new friends. They took a break in the middle of their session to grab snacks,and that’s how Cyrus found himself at his locker, talking to TJ.

“Aw, c’mon you belong on stage,” TJ whined, leaning against the pod of lockers, an apple juice box in his hand.

Cyrus shook his head, closing his locker with a click. “Nope, definitely not. I mean, we’re running monologues next, so we all have to do that.”

TJ perked up at that, his lips forming a delicate grin. “Oh, really? Well, I might just have to pop in and listen to you.”

Cyrus gave him a light nudge, heading back over to the classroom. “You most certainly will not, because I said so.”

TJ’s smile never dipped, falling in step with Cyrus. “You’re acting like such a child.”

Cyrus snorted. “Says the boy with an apple juice box in his hand.”

“It’s the superior juice!” TJ exclaimed, holding it triumphantly in the air.

Cyrus laughed softly, nodding. “I never said it wasn’t. Why would I argue with the truth?”

Both of them walked into the math classroom (“Why do they have to hold a theatre meeting in this hell hole?” TJ had complained), and took seats by Libby and Andi.

“Oh good, you’re up,” Andi whispered to him, handing him a packet of paper, “you’re going number three.”

TJ gave him a soft clap on the back as Cyrus walked towards the front of the classroom. Instead of feeling a bundle of nerves compress inside of him, he actually felt at ease. Maybe it was the fact that this was a rehearsal, or the fact that he wasn’t going to end up on stage in the end anyways, but he felt happy. Calm, even.

“I'm so glad I found you. You're the only one I can talk to.  Definitely the only person I've ever talked to.  But I feel so comfortable with you.”

TJ was suddenly not leaning against the back of his chair. He scooted closer to the edge of his seat, trying to hold onto every word that Cyrus was saying. He had a nagging voice in the back of his head telling him to stop pretending this was about him, but he couldn’t seem to focus on that. All he could focus on was Cyrus.

“No one listens to me. I talk. They change the subject. It’s not that I feel I have something better to say. I don’t know if I have much to say at all. I’ve never had a chance to try.”

The way Cyrus was saying his lines, with the utmost emotion and almost despair made him feel like the boy knew this feeling all too well. It made him upset, thinking that people wouldn’t listen to Cyrus, but he tried to push that feeling aside.

“The minute I saw you, I knew you were special. There was something magical about your eyes, beautiful and green and deep and. . .mesmerizing.”

TJ had to look down at that, discreetly glancing at Andi who was also apparently looking at him. Had she written this monologue? Because if she didn’t, the writer was spooky accurate with TJ’s eyes (at least according to him).

“It’s important to love just enough. Just enough to know that you are loved without hurting the object of your affection. I wouldn’t want to hurt you, but I can’t help it. My love for you extends far beyond any possible word in the English language. My love is in soft glances, little smiles from across the room, and those moments where we both know that there’s something there. Maybe not a spark, but something. I love you, you know. Always have, always will.”

TJ was definitely in a trance, and only Andi smacking his side got him out of it. He clapped along with everyone else, maybe a little louder, even. Cyrus, bashfully, took a little bow and took his seat by a few kids he didn’t know by name, but he’d seen them in the hallways a couple of times. The clapping faded into the background as another person got up to do their monologue, but TJ couldn’t stop focusing on Cyrus’ words. They sounded so real, so beautiful, and he wanted to hear more.

Cyrus was wrong: he belonged on stage, not sitting with a prop in his hand and waiting for a cue.

After all the monologues were done, the teacher in charge, Mrs. Artesia, and Jonah, the student director, gathered together in a corner of the room to discuss roles and who they thought would do well on stage.

“You didn’t tell me you could pull of something like that,” TJ managed to say, without stumbling over his words.

Cyrus brushed it off, leaning back in his chair. “That? That wasn’t that good. . .was it really?”

TJ put his hands on Cyrus’ shoulders, shaking him lightly. “Yes, you idiot, it was really good! You should be on stage, not backstage.”

Cyrus thought about this for a moment. He did have fun performing his monologue in front of other people, but on the other hand, he wasn’t sure if he was cut out for the real deal. Understudies, probably, he thought, trying to prepare himself for the worst.

“Tell you what. I’ll go tell Mrs. Artesia that I want to be considered for an actor’s part-”

“-yes!”

“-but only if you join stage crew.”

TJ froze. Sure, he liked theatre. He enjoyed listening to the soundtracks in the car, changing voice quickly between characters as his sister teased him for not being able to hit the high notes. But actually take part in a production? He was hesitant, but seeing the borderline pleading look on Cyrus’ face, he knew he was a goner.

“. . .fine,” he agreed, to which Cyrus squealed and threw his arms around him.

“This is going to be so much fun!” he exclaimed, running off to find the director and let her know the good news.

Andi tapped TJ on the shoulder. “Since when are you interested in theatre?”

Libby, following her words, broke out into a smile. ‘Since a certain boy decided he wanted to be an actor.’

TJ sighed, slumping over. “You ladies are going to be the death of me, aren’t you?”

Andi chuckled, taking Libby’s hand in hers. “You bet.”

Wednesday morning. Eight-thirty one. The cast list still hadn’t been posted, and Cyrus was already irritated. It was supposed to be up a minute ago, but seeing as there wasn’t a throng of students gathered around the bulletin board, he knew it wasn’t up.

“You ready to be the lead?”

Cyrus didn’t even have to turn around at that. He threw his hands up in exasperation. “TJ, you need to stop telling me lies.”

“Not a lie,” he informed him, dangling a piece of paper in front of his eyes. Cyrus quickly snatched it, scanning through it.

“You didn’t make this did you? Just to try and get a laugh?”

TJ’s expression softened. “Of course not, Cyrus. I’d never do that to you, of all people. I got into Mrs. Artesia’s office early this morning and it was sitting on her desk. I believe a congratulations is in order,” he chuckled, patting his shoulder.

“Wow I. . .can’t believe I got the lead!” he squealed, hurrying over to the bulletin board and pinning it up. TJ grabbed a pencil out of his bag and wrote ‘the incomparable’ in front of Cyrus’ name.

“You flatter me,” Cyrus laughed, placing a hand on his heart, “so. . .stage crew?”

TJ shrugged, kicking at the ground. “I think I’m going to be doing lights, actually. Suits my style more.”

Cyrus poked his side lightly, beaming. “Why? So you can drool over all the cute girls on stage?”

TJ chuckled along, heading to his class, with Cyrus following by his side. “Yes, Cyrus. I, a blatant homosexual, have chosen to do lighting to look at the female population.”

Cyrus giggled at that, and TJ didn’t think there was a more beautiful sound in the universe. “Okay, whatever. I’ll see you after school though, right? First run through!” Cyrus scurried to his first period class, and as the hallway started to fill with more students, TJ was left standing in his place, watching a certain boy run off into the distance.

They had just started blocking the first scene, when TJ found himself up in the lighting booth. There was another boy up there, Wyatt. He always did the lighting for school plays, but he was a senior, so it was probably a good idea that TJ was learning the ropes.

“You TJ?” he asked, kicking his legs down from the table.

“Yeah, that’s me. Wyatt, right?” The other boy nodded, motioning for him to take a seat.

“So this is the lighting board. Pretty straight forward. These ones control the upstage lights, these downstage. You can change the colors with this lever, and then if you want s fade you have to program it with this thing here,” he rattled off, TJ trying to keep up as best he could. He didn’t have anything to write this down on, so he was just praying that Wyatt would help him out when he could.

“I have to go for now, but you’ll figure it out,” he gave him a small wave, “later man.”

Well, so much for that. TJ took Wyatt’s seat, and looking down through the window, he could see Cyrus on stage with the director, pointing at something in the script. He smiled to himself; he really did have the best seat in the house.

“Okay, let’s run the scene from the top! Remember, really use your facial expressions!” Jonah called out, taking a seat a few rows back, “Action!”

TJ watched the actions play out on stage. He tried to do lights as best he could, but without much direction, it was hard to determine what to do. Whenever a single person was on stage, he would try and put a spotlight on them, but sometimes it was too bright, and they would look down. However, the moment Cyrus got on stage, it was like all TJ knew how to do was stare off into the distance.

“Lights!” Jonah yelled, snapping TJ out of his reverie.

Crap, that was his cue, and he missed it. He fumbled with the board for a little, and after a few moments, there was a soft, pink spotlight on Cyrus, who seemed to be delivering his lines beautifully.

As soon as Cyrus was off stage, TJ seemed to have no problem getting his cues, and figuring out how to work the board. Funny how things work out like that.

“Okay, everyone, that’s all for today!” Mrs. Artesia said, clapping her hands together, “today was a lot of work, I know, but in the coming weeks, I know we’re all going to work hard and put together a wonderful performance! Does anyone have any questions?”

Cyrus raised his hand. “Can I write a screenplay for the next production?”

Mrs. Artesia pushed up her glasses on her nose. “I don’t think so, Cyrus. You’ll have to get it checked by me and the board, then it has to pass by the principal, and after that you-”

Cyrus waved his hand, cutting her off. “That’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

“Anyone else?” No one said anything. “Good! I’ll see you all tomorrow!”

Cyrus stuffed his script into his backpack, and hauled it up on his shoulders. He would normally head out with TJ, but since he had basketball practice, he was alone today.

“Cyrus!” Andi called, waving her hands in the air. He smiled seeing her, but took a step back once he saw her hands.

“Is that acrylic paint? Andi, I love you, but this is a nice shirt,” he smiled sympathetically, smoothing down his top.

“TJ sure seemed to think so,” she mused, earning his full attention.

“What? What do you mean? Did he say that? When?”

Andi laughed, Libby coming up behind her, with paint all up her arms. “I mean, whenever you were on stage, he missed his lighting cues.”

Cyrus crossed his arms in defense. “It’s the first day, Andi, cut him some slack. Plus, he messed up plenty of other times too.”

Andi sighed, turning to Libby and summing up their conversation. Libby grinned, turning towards Cyrus.

‘Yes, but he messed up more when you were involved. Isn’t that funny? I think it’s funny.’

Cyrus narrowed his eyes, but the smile on his face only grew. “Shut up,” he mumbled, signing along as well, “I’ll see you guys later,” he gave them a wave, and headed out the door.

“He’s so smitten,” Andi giggled, signing her words.

‘CJ’ Libby signed back, smiling.

“Oh my gosh, is that what you call them? CJ?” she repeated her sign, her smile only growing.

Libby nodded, and her expression all of a sudden turned a little more shy. ‘Do you want to get ice cream later?’

Andi smiled. “Totally! Andi Shack?”

Libby nodded. ‘Andi Shack’

“I’m telling you, directly into the light!” Andi chuckled, setting down her tray, with Buffy sitting beside her.

“Are you kidding me?” Buffy exclaimed, her eyes widening. It’d been two weeks of rehearsals, and the teasing from Andi, and consequently, Libby and Buffy, wasn’t getting any better.

“He could have blinded himself because he wanted to look at TJ!” she sighed, shaking her head.

“I am literally sitting right here,” Cyrus deadpanned, holding onto his apple a little tighter, “and no, I didn’t look directly into the spotlight, that’s a lie.”

“Sure, you just kept tumbling over your own feet on stage for no reason, after staring at the lighting booth,” Andi mumbled, nodding her head, “whatever you say.”

“Hey guys!” TJ called, coming over and joining their table, “what’re you talking about?”

Cyrus paled, looking down at his food. “Well, we certainly weren’t talking about your job as the lighting guy.”

TJ chuckled. “Very convincing. I think I’m getting the hang of it, finally, after Wyatt agreed to stay with me for the new few rehearsals and help. Who knows, maybe I’ll even help out a little freshman when I’m a senior.”

Buffy snorted. “Fat chance someone would be able to stand you barking orders at them.”

TJ smirked, resting his elbows on the table. “Ah, Driscoll, witty as always.”

Buffy smiled victoriously, taking a bite of her sandwich. “You know it. So, Cyrus, did you wanna hang out tonight? We can do a movie night.”

Cyrus shook his head. “Can’t. TJ and I are running lines.”

Buffy smirked, looking at the basketball captain whose attention was suddenly very focused on a poster for a math competition. “You guys are running lines together?”

“Well, the show’s in a few weeks, we need to be ready,” TJ defended weakly, “and Cyrus is the lead, which is obviously the most important.”

Cyrus laughed beside him. “It’s not the most important, Teej, and you know it.”

TJ shrugged. “Well, maybe that’s what you think, but I’m right. Without the lead, what would the play even be about?”

“Without all the side characters, how would the lead grow and develop as a person? How would they discover something about themselves without someone at their side?” Cyrus countered.

“Fair point,” TJ admitted, “anyways, your house, later tonight?”

Cyrus nodded, finishing up his sandwich. “You guys wanna come too? Help run lines?”

TJ deflated a little beside him, and looked to Andi with a pleading look. He didn’t mind if people came along, but he would prefer if it were just him and Cyrus. Almost like a date, but not quite. A friend-date.

“Well,” Andi started, her look softening, “I’d love to, but Libby and I have to finish one of the set pieces.”

“Maybe another time,” Cyrus replied, not seeing the relieved look from TJ, “looks like it’s just me and you,” he chuckled, meeting TJ’s gaze.

His eyes were beautiful, TJ thought, and the only reason he wasn’t getting lost in them was because so many people were talking at the same time. Thank goodness for distractions.

“Y-Yup,” he stammered, clearing his throat, “just you and me.”

“Oh, I almost forgot! My mom’s making lasagna tonight, you’re in for a treat,” Cyrus chuckled, grabbing his bag, “I’ll see you guys later!”

TJ walked him walk off, a distracted smile tugging at his lips, and when he was finally snapped out of it by someone dropping their tray, he turned back to his friends, and found that Libby was staring at him with a knowing look on her face.

“What?” TJ signed, flushing slightly.

‘Nothing. You’re just staring at him.’ she signed back.

TJ stuck his tongue out in defiance, turning his attention back to his food, which had been untouched. “We’re just running lines.”

“At least this time he won’t stare into a light,” Buffy mumbled, shaking her head with disapproval.

“What?” TJ questioned.

Buffy waved him off, not missing a beat. “Nothing, just Cyrus being. . .Cyrus,” she chuckled.

TJ smiled a little more at that. Cyrus being Cyrus was great. He really liked him, which terrified the living daylights out of him.

Later in the evening, TJ found himself walking to Cyrus’ house, albeit a little earlier than they had planned. He wasn’t sure why, he just knew he wouldn’t be able to stay at home for much longer without bursting. So that’s the story of how TJ found himself nearly twenty minutes early at Cyrus’ doorstep.

Fortunately for him, Cyrus was already running lines by himself inside, and TJ knew because the light was on in his room, and his voice was much louder than before. Acting on impulse, he picked up a small pebble and threw it at his window, making a small ‘plink!’ sound. The words immediately stopped, and the window opened.

“Are you insane? What are you doing?” Cyrus called from upstairs, his script in hand.

TJ just shrugged, and he could practically see Cyrus’ annoyance. “Just thought I’m come by early to help with lines.”

Cyrus scoffed, waving him up. “Door’s open,” he called, shutting his window and muttering to himself, “help with lines. More like shatter my window and my peace and tranquility.”

TJ made his way up the stairs, like he’d done a thousand times before, and popped into Cyrus’ room. “I’m ready to be wowed with your talent,” he chucked, plopping down on the floor.

Cyrus’ expression softened; he could never really be mad at TJ. “Get ready for your expectations to be barely fulfilled.”

TJ groaned, pulling a pencil off of Cyrus’ desk and taking his script from him. “You don’t get to say things like that. You’re the lead, and you have to exude self confidence.”

Cyrus sighed, sitting down across from TJ and propping up his head with his elbows. “How do I do that? Especially when I’m professing my love for a girl?”

TJ let out a light laugh at that, crossing his legs and flipping to a page that was covered in highlights. He figured they’d start there. “Why don’t you just imagine you’re talking to a really cute boy?” he offered, holding a pencil in between his fingers.

Cyrus nodded, motioning for him to go on and start one of the lines.

TJ squinted at the words. “What kind of feelings? What are you trying to say?” he couldn’t help but smile at that.

“I'm so glad I found you. You're the only one I can talk to. Definitely the only person I've ever talked to. But I feel so comfortable with you. . .” he started, looking down at his hands. TJ couldn’t help but stare a little bit as he talked; even though the words weren’t directly aimed at him, he felt his heart fluttering. With a pencil in hand, he started to doodle a little on the side, a small heart. When he decided that was too romantic, he drew a tiny cat holding it, smiling.

“Line?” Cyrus repeated again, snapping TJ out of his thoughts.

“Oh, uh. . .” he squinted, looking at the words, “it’s still your monologue. ‘No one listens’.”

Cyrus nodded, composing himself again. “No one listens to me. I talk. They change the subject. It’s not that I feel I have something better to say. I don’t know if I have much to say at all. I’ve never had a chance to try.”

TJ nodded along; Cyrus was getting his lines down really well, and the tone and inflection was beautiful.

“The minute I saw you, I knew you were special. There was something magical about your eyes, beautiful and green and deep and. . .mesmerizing.”

That was the line that always got him, every since time, without fail. Whenever Cyrus said it on stage, he would crane his neck outside the little window to try and hear him better. Wyatt always teased him about it, but he never said more other than the occasional “pay attention to the lights, TJ, not the star of the show”.

“It’s important to love just enough. Just enough to know that you are loved without hurting the object of your affection. I wouldn’t want to hurt you, but I can’t help it. My love for you extends far beyond any possible word in the English language,” Cyrus started, his gaze flitting up to TJ, “my love is in soft glances, little smiles from across the room, and those moments where we both know that there’s something there. Maybe not a spark, but something. I love you, you know. Always have, always will.”

It’s not about you, please stop freaking out. It was no point thinking that, because TJ’s cheeks were glowing a bright red, and he would be lying if he didn’t say that Cyrus’ were pinker than they were before.

“S-so?” Cyrus spoke up, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen over them, “how was that?”

Beautiful. Incredible. I love you. “That was. . .the greatest thing I’ve ever heard,” he breathed out, flipping back to the front of the script and handing it to Cyrus, who didn’t seem to agree.

“It was alright. I messed up that one part, and then of course, the inflection could have been better,” he shook his head, “I’m never going to get it.”

TJ scooted a bit closer, firmly putting his hands on Cyrus’ shoulder. “Don’t say that, Cy,” he started softly, “you were really good. Like, really good. Seriously, that monologue could make someone fall in love with you.”

Cyrus relaxed a little, his shoulders losing some tension. “Thanks,” he said, smiling a little, “that was indeed my goal in this rehearsal. Make someone fall in love with me.”

You’ve succeeded. “Oh, hush you, your performance was great here, and it’s going to be even better on stage.”

Cyrus’ smile faltered a little, the corners of his lips quivering. “I’m not. . .that sure.”

TJ took his script, glowering at him. “If you’re not going to believe in yourself, then I am going to make you. You won’t need this for the rest of the night, will you?”

Cyrus whined, reaching for it, but TJ kept it above his head. “I was gonna work on it more when I got home.”

TJ shook his head. “No way! It’s already late, and there’s no way you’re going to be staying up later because of this. You’re already doing great, Cy. I promise.”

Cyrus thought this over for a few moments, before finally giving in with a yawn. “I. . .fine. But I expect it back to me first thing tomorrow.”

TJ nodded eagerly, and the two of them ran the scene again (TJ managed to not faint, by a miracle). It was just as good as the other time, if not better, especially in TJ’s opinion. When they had finished for the night, TJ took the script with him, a half baked idea whirling around in his head.

Later, when TJ got home, he took a seat at the desk in his room, pushed aside all his papers, and pulled out a pencil, and his little bag of colored pencils. Well, technically they were Amber’s, but he’d stolen them a while ago, and he figured she’d forgotten about them.

He flipped through the pages, doodling in the margins little things that he thought would make Cyrus feel better about his work. Some of them were silly cat doodles that said “you’re doing PAWsome!”, while others were genuine comments on the way that he was performing the scene.

“Whenever you say this, your face kind of scrunches up, and I think it really helps with the scene”

“This part is PURR-fect!”

“My favorite line right here. You always look ready to cry when you deliver it, but then of course you keep your composure. It’s beautiful every single time”

“No wait, this is my favorite lol”

And so it went for the rest of the night, TJ flipping pages and doodling things in the margins occasionally. Cats, cat puns, genuine thoughts, he wrote them all. He really hoped that this helped Cyrus, even just a little bit, to recover his confidence.

Tech week. The dreaded words that all theatre kids hate hearing.

“How are you holding up?” Andi signed groggily, faint bags apparent under her eyes.

Libby shrugged. ‘Okay, I guess. I’m tired. Running on a latte and a prayer. What about you?’

Andi glanced over her shoulder, at where TJ and Cyrus were bumping shoulders and laughing. Then she turned back to Libby, a small smile on her face.

“They’re going to be the death of me,” she points at them, and signs along, “they have to get together.”

Libby nods, and quickly puts on an innocent smile as TJ and Cyrus approach the two girls. ‘Gentlemen.’

Cyrus laughs, saluting her. “You guys look exhausted.”

“Thanks,” Andi deadpans, “it’s tech week, and the set is still in need of a few final preparations. How are you not dead?”

Cyrus shrugged. “I drank a five hour energy this morning. Or two of them. I can’t remember.”

TJ shook his head, patting Cyrus on the back. “Try to radiate some of that energy onto us, please and thank you.”

“But aren’t you excited for rehearsal tonight? We’re gonna run through the whole thing?” Cyrus was nearly shaking with excitement. Andi put a hand on his shoulder.

“Please, for the love of everything good in this cafeteria, calm down.”

That night, all the cast and crew were hard at work. Cyrus was working with Jonah on some lines, Andi was helping Libby find some new props, since a few broke, and Wyatt and TJ were sitting in the lighting booth.

“So,” Wyatt started, leaning back in his chair, “how long have you and that kid been dating?”

TJ nearly choked on his spit. “Wh-what?” he squeaks out, trying not to hack up his lungs during his coughing fit.

Wyatt smiled, raising a brow. “You know, the lead? What’s his name, Chris?”

“Cyrus,” TJ corrects, his voice higher than before, “a-and no. . .we’re not dating.”

Wyatt quirked a brow at his response, digging out his phone from his bag. “Really? I thought you guys were. You’re always hanging out with each other and-”

“So?” TJ cut in, almost annoyed, “friends do that too.”

Wyatt’s expression softened, but his gaze never left his phone. “Whatever you say dude, I’m just saying. You guys seem like more than friends. He talks about you all the time.”

“When do you talk to Cyrus?”

He shrugged in response. “I get here early sometimes to help him run lines. He talked about all the notes you left in his script and how it always helped because you wrote them,” he continued, “he seems to like you a lot, man. You should just ask him out.”

“What? No, that’s the worst idea.”

“Why? The worst he could do is say no. I’ve seen you guys. You’re close, and there’s no way that things would change because of your feelings,” he looked up at him from his phone, “I’ll give you twenty bucks to ask him out, and if he says yes, which I’m pretty sure he will, I’ll pay for your date.”

TJ thought it over for a moment, but he was still skeptical. “Why are you helping me? You barely know me.”

Wyatt shrugged. “I know that it’s nice to date someone that you really care about.”

“Yeah, sure, but your experience with girls isn’t really going to help me.”

Wyatt snorted, throwing his head back. “Girls? Yeah, no, they’re not for me,” he chuckled, “I think I know what I’m doing.”

TJ blinked a few times, looking at the lighting board. “Oh. Cool. Well. . .thanks. I might just have to take you up on that offer.”

Wyatt took his wallet out his bag, fishing out two ten dollar bills and waving them in front of TJ’s face. “Well?”

TJ hesitated, but then took the money, stuffing the bills into his pocket and getting up from his chair. “Fine, I’ll do it. Happy?”

Wyatt smiled, clapping him on the back. “Go get your man.”

TJ wandered around backstage during the break, trying to find Andi and Libby. After his conversation with Wyatt, he figured that they were the best people to seek out for more advice on this. He finally saw them in the prop room, looking for a new vase for the table, as someone had broken it during rehearsal last time.

“Hey,” TJ said, nearly out of breath, “I need to run an idea by you two.”

“What’s up?” Andi asked, paint smeared across her hands and her clothes.

He shakily signs as he talks. “I need a way to ask Cyrus out.”

Libby’s eyes widen and she drops the vase in her hands, letting it shatter on the ground. So much for that one.

“What?” Andi screams, a smile growing on her face, “you’re. . .you’re serious?”

He nodded. “Help me out?” he signs

Libby thought about it for a moment, before she seemed to have an idea. ‘Didn’t you leave notes in his script? What if you did that, like wrote something on the last page?’

“That’s. . .actually a really good idea. Thanks,” he mumbled, walking off determined to find Cyrus’ script. Luckily, it was sitting on the side of the stage, as Cyrus was busy talking to the director about some blocking. He quickly drew something on the last page, along with a message, and he left it on the front page, hurrying away. Hopefully this plan would work out.

Opening night. Ten minutes to curtain. Everyone was rushing around and putting the final details on the actors’ makeup and costumes, and props were already set in place. TJ was sitting in the lighting booth, on FaceTime with Cyrus, who was in the boys dressing room.

“It’s going to be a disaster! What if I miss a cue?” Cyrus whined, pouting.

“You’re going to do great, Cy. You’ve worked insanely hard on this, and there’s no way it’s not going to be amazing. And if you miss a cue, no one in the audience is going to know.”

Cyrus sighed, running a hand through his hair, much to the dismay of the student fixing his hair. “You’re probably right. I’m just. . .nervous.”

TJ’s expression softened, his smile widening. “You’re going to be amazing. I promise you. I’ll leave you be, okay? Five minutes till opening.”

He closed the call, and got set with the lighting, making the announcement for people to silence their cell phones. The silence settled over the crowd, and TJ slowly dimmed the lights in the house, the lights on the stage growing a little as the curtain opened.

“Here we go,” he whispered to himself.

The whole thing was a blur. All Cyrus could process was that he was holding hands with his fellow actors and bowing. The audience was clapping like there was no tomorrow, a few groups of people even giving a standing ovation. TJ was in the lighting booth whooping and hollering so loud that Wyatt was covering his ears.

“So, what about you and that kid? Did you ask him out?”

TJ straightened out his shirt. “As a matter of fact, I’m going to do that right now,” he announced heading out of the booth and down the stairs, holding a hand behind his back. When he got down to the lobby, he didn’t realize how crowded it was. Parents, relatives, friends, siblings, other students, all crowding the room. He spotted Andi and Libby and caught their attention, waving them over. They took time to get to him, squeezing their way through the crowd to get to him.

TJ pointed to Cyrus, who was currently surrounded by people praising him for a job well done. “Help?”

The girls nodded, standing in front of him and pushing through the crowd as TJ walked behind them, trying to avoid getting hit by a child flailing their arms. Finally, he managed to get to Cyrus, and like magic, Libby and Andi left him alone.

“Cy, hey!” he chirped, smiling widely, “you were amazing! Just like I thought.”

Cyrus chuckled, throwing his arms around him. “Well, the lights looked great too. Thank you, though. It wouldn’t have been so good without all your help and notes in my script,” he laughs, holding it up.

TJ smiled nervously, relishing in this moment before Cyrus pulled away. “No problem. I. . .here, this is for you,” he said, pulling out the rose that he was holding behind his back. His mom would kill him if she knew he took it from her garden, but for Cyrus? Anything.

Cyrus’ jaw dropped a little, taking the rose carefully, as if it were about to vanish into thin air. “TJ. . .this is. . .thank you, I-”

“Hold that thought,” TJ cut him off, “check the last page of your script. I added a new note.”

Cyrus, albeit a little confused, obliged, flipping to the last page. There, on the large section of a blank page, was a drawing of two cats holding hands, with a caption that read ‘it would be PURRfect if you took MEOWt on a date! friday after school?’

TJ waited for his reaction nervously. His heart was beating out of his chest, and he couldn’t even focus on how many people were bumping into him at that moment.

Cyrus looked up at TJ, whose face was redder than the rose in his hand. And for the second time that night, Cyrus threw his arms around TJ, grinning from ear to ear.

“Yes, of course! I would love to go on a date with you!” he squeals, holding him so tight that TJ could barely breathe.

TJ made a noise that wasn’t completely human, spinning Cyrus around in a hug before putting him back down on the ground. “Cool. . .one second,” TJ pulled away from him, putting his phone up to his ear.

“Wyatt! So nice to hear from you. I’d like thirty bucks for my date. . .yes I mean it. . .no I’m not kidding. . .you can talk to Cyrus if you want. . .okay. . .cool. . .thanks,” he laughed, hanging up.

“So, that date?” Cyrus asked, taking TJ’s hand.

TJ smiled at the gesture, giving his hand a squeeze. “How about we go to my house after school on Friday and do a karaoke show tunes kind of thing? We can order pizza and everything.”

Cyrus nodded. “It’s a date,” he agreed, looking around for a moment, before reaching up and pressing a quick kiss to TJ’s cheek. He gave his hand one final squeeze, before running to find his parents, who were waiting for him with bouquets of flowers. They were beautiful, but TJ’s rose beat them all.

#andi mack #tyrus #tyrus fic #my fics #tj kippen #cyrus goodman

[lornawinters]

“If I Let You Go,” Chapter 3. An Elnor fanfic

"Did you never know your mother and father?" Julene asked, her pretty green eyes wide with curiosity.

She and Elnor had slipped out after the midday meal and climbed to the top of the cliffs because she wanted a closer look at the waterfall. They rested after their climb, dangling their legs over the edge.

"My parents were killed in the service of the Empire." Elnor lowered his eyes. "My last grandparent died in the war with the Dominion. That's all I was told. I have no other family that I know of." He didn't feel like mentioning the admiral who'd left him there with the nuns. After all, Picard wasn't really his family.

"Oh...I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He sat up straight. "It's an honor to be trained in the fighting arts of the Qowat Milat, without having to commit to the order." He got to his feet. "Ready to see the waterfall now?"

"Yes, of course." She took his hand and let him pull her up. "You're as strong as my cousin, aren't you?"

Elnor felt blood rush to his cheeks. It wasn't as though he never talked to girls his age in the settlement, or that they didn't flirt with him on occasion. They just didn't react to him in the same way Julene did. Or, was it that he didn't react to the other girls the way he reacted to Julene?

He shrugged. "I suppose so." It was generally known that Romulans were physically stronger than humans. Many Romulans believed that made them superior, but Elnor understood there were other forms of strength.

They made their way around the cliff edge toward the rushing river. He'd taken the longer way up since he wasn't sure about her climbing skills. It was a good thing she knew enough not to wear any of her finery on Vashti, and instead wore simple, yet quality clothing. Elnor didn't have the faintest idea what a princess might normally wear, but was glad he didn't have to worry about ripping frilly, latinum-spun gowns.

She didn't move over the boulders and through the crevices as easily as he did, but she kept up a decent pace.

"You're in good shape yourself."

The mischievous twinkle in her eye nearly took his breath away. "You think a princess doesn't get outdoors much?"

"I don't know what a princess does," he confessed.

She sighed. "Most of my day is spent with tutors. I like to learn, but it gets exhausting." Then the twinkle returned. "But when lessons are over I love to ride my horse along the seashore. We sometimes race the waves. She's as fast as the wind!"

Elnor had read about horses in The Three Musketeers, and with a twinge of sadness he remembered Picard promised to teach him how to ride some day. He forgot his disappointment, however, when Julene continued.

"Her name is Iberia, and her mane is so beautiful, the color of a sunset."

"Like your hair?"

Now it was Julene's turn to blush. "Well, almost. Iberia's is darker, though."

They walked the rest of the way in silence.

"I didn't mean to embarrass you," he said, when they reached the river's edge. "Absolute Candor dictates that I should speak my mind. I meant no disrespect, princess."

"Please, call me Julie. That's what my friends call me." She began to remove her boots.

Elnor remembered that Tristan had called her that when they'd spoken French - or whatever their language was. "I'd like to be your friend, Julie."

Where they stood, the bank of the river was sheltered by enormous boulders. Here, the clear water collected in a peaceful pool before re-joining the nearby rushing torrent that plummeted down the cliffs. The midday sun grew more intense, and there were no trees to shade them. A dip in the cool mountain water sounded refreshing.

"I don't think Zani would approve of swimming," he felt obliged to point out.

"And she would be right," Julie said, removing her socks. "It wouldn't be seemly. I only want to put my feet in the water." Even her feet and ankles were lovely.

"I suppose that's okay," Elnor agreed, swallowing a lump that formed in his throat.

She looked up. "Aren't you hot, too?"

"A little." He sat next to her and removed his boots, laying his sword beside him. The water provided a welcome relief to the day's heat. "It gladdens my heart that you like it here. This place is special to me."

"You come here when you want to be alone."

He nodded. "Or when it's hot like today."

"I see." She leaned over the water and cupped some into her palms. "Maybe you need to cool off more?" Then she splashed her handful right into his face.

At first, he was so surprised she'd do that he didn't know how to react. But her girlish giggle disarmed him, and he found himself laughing with her. "Really?" He scooped a larger handful and sloshed it in her direction. "'I'm hot, Elnor. Let's put our feet in the water,'" he mimicked her feminine pitch.

"I don't sound like that." She laughed and splashed him again.

"Yes, you do!"

"You know, that's the first time I've seen you smile. I knew you couldn't be all seriousness."

Still smiling, he leaned back on the boulder and watched her swirl her fingers in the water. She hummed softly, almost to herself. He hadn't felt this content in many years.

Just as he was starting to relax, a deep, menacing voice interrupted. "Jolan true."

By instinct, Elnor jumped to his feet and drew his sword.

Tenqem Adrev, former Romulan Senator of the Empire turned influencer in the Romulan Rebirth Movement, stood on the boulder above them.

Elnor cursed himself for letting his guard down. No one had snuck up on him in a very long time - not since he'd reached the higher levels of his training. But Adrev wasn't an enemy. He sheathed his sword. "What are you doing here?"

Like everyone else on Vashti, Adrev carried a weapon, a disruptor in his case. But he didn't draw it, and Elnor had no reason to suspect he would. "I could ask the same question of you, young Elnor," he said, not changing to English. "And, I might add, what are you doing with this round-eared girl?"

He bristled at hearing a racial slur referring to Julie. "Don't call her that. She's a guest of the Qowat Milat."

"Who is she?"

"That's our business."

"She looks important." He rubbed the stubble on his chin. "Did you hear a half-Terran prince was in town yesterday? He was looking for engine parts. His ship is docked in the space port hangar."

"I heard about him," Enor answered, comprehending why many people chose to lie.

Adrev returned a thin smile. "That's what I thought." He turned to leave, then stopped. "You're fortunate that it was I who discovered you with your little songbird, and not someone else. Guard her well. I don't need to remind you there are those who wouldn't hesitate to act if a Qowat Milat let his guard down. A princess commands a lavish ransom indeed."

"Jolan true," he ground out, reminding the elder he was leaving.

"Jolan true, young Elnor." Adrev walked away toward the path leading back to North Station. His hearty guffaw echoed through the rocky landscape a minute later.

#elnor #we love elnor #star trek elnor #star trek picard #star trek fanfiction #not slash #romance #adventure #qowat milat

[heartfeltheart]

Alchemy: Magic Vs. Science

Chapters: 23/25 Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist/Harry Potter Rating: T Relationships: Edward/Winry, Lan Fan/Ling, and May/Alphonse. Primary Characters: Edward Elric, Severus Snape Additional Tags: Crossover, Teacher!Edward, BrOtp Edward/Severus. Sassy beyond measure. Series: Part 1 of 9. Summary: Magic and Science, are they the same or are they completely different? It just takes one person to point out all up and downs. Along with breaking the stereotypes that come up with being a wizard, alchemist and most of all being human. Thank you, @amynchan! D/C: I do not own Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist. Discord: La Red(Mesh Mash of… stuff.): https://discord.gg/KYjmVAb Alchemy Series: https://discord.gg/DejEYNJ

“English and Edward’s accented voice.” “Amestrian or another foreign language.” “Written notes.” ‘Thoughts.’ First Name: Informal Last Name: Formal (Or used to annoy others)

Two days... Two days of complete and utter chaos. Ling is running around wanting to see everything with the Ministry Officials running after him. They are trying to get the Emperor to settle down to start their negotiations. The Mustang Unit is either helping Ling escape from the Officials or go bother Edward to no end. It didn't help that Lan Fan always kept acting as a lookout for them all. Marcoh spent his time in the library, studying everything that catches his eye. Scar... surprisingly, no one knows where he is at the moment. Alphonse gets distracted everytime he sees one of the many cats that roam around the school. Mei is spending her time in the Medical wing, she and Poppy are getting along despite the language barrier.

Right now, every single visitor is standing around Edward's bed and staring down at said male's sleeping form.

"This is creepy." Alphonse finally relented after staring down at his brother for was seemed like forever. "Why are we doing this again?"

"It's Monday! He has class today, I want to see his entire day as a teacher." Ling snickered from behind a paper fan. Standing behind is a resigned Lan Fan, shaking her head at Ling's words.

"He's going to freak out seeing all of us..." Mei called out from the other side of the room, she has Xerxes in her arms. The tiny owl is glowing at the attention she is receiving from the princess.

"If only we have a bucket of water." Roy muttered under his breath, eyeing Edward with a sinister twinkle in his eyes.

"Sir...No." Riza reprimanded her superior.

"He's waking up." Scar announced to everyone in the room.

"Of course, he's waking up. You keep stabbing him with your walking stick!"

Edward groaned in annoyance at whatever is poking him and slowly opened his eyes to a bleary world. He raised up while he rubbed his eyes in an attempt to clear his vision again. The Golden Blonde blinked, once, twice, three times when saw all his friends and brother surrounding his bed. Every single one of them staring down at him with expectant expressions.

-.-

Severus is in his classroom, writing instructions on the chalkboard for the first class of his day. Today is supposed to be any other day, except he is expecting some sort of chaos to occur later into the day. For now, he will continue on like that is not going to occur any time so-

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

A familiar scream pierced throughout the entire castle, Severus chalk broke into half being taken by surprise by it. He grumbled under his breath, cursing at the fact ever since Edward Elric came into the Magical World, things have never been the same. It was like being in an eye of a storm for who knows how long, at any moment a storm will occur and nothing or no one is safe. Now everyone is on edge, especially now when extra variables were added in.

Severus threw the broken pieces of chalk into a small box of broken pieces of chalk and reached into another box that is filled with unused chalk. 'It's too early for this...'

-.-

Edward grumbled into his breakfast, ignoring the people around him that were giving him questioning looks. He ignored how Ling would poke him with a spoon. Roy talking his ear off nonstop. Alphonse getting along with Filius and... Scar and Severus getting along? Edward rubbed his eyes in complete disbelief, how in Truth's name is Scar able to do...that! Did he just... laugh? Wait... false alarm, they are talking about making his life hell. Nothing abnormal there.

"What's in today's agenda, Eddy Boy?" Ling asked, swinging an around Edward's shoulders.

"Ministry Officials are coming by later into the afternoon. Today... until I l have my class, a tour of the school. Unlike the last two days... I have to chaperone all of you... since I can't leave any of you alone! For a long period of time! Since none of you can act like actual adults." Edward right eye twitched all throughout his rant, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

"Hm... So, say you, Mr. Elric."

"SHUT UP! Dis does not include you!"

"Case and point."

"SHUT UP!"

"You are just proving my point, Mr. Elric."

"...Shut up, Severus."

"How childish of you to pout, Mr. Elric."

"Grrrr."

"Childish."

-.-

"They are adorable! I want them!" Ling gushed over the House-elves that attempted to get his attention with food. He gobbled down plate after plate of food, almost putting Lan Fan into a state of panic as she is worried he might choke.

"They are rather... peculiar." Riza commented, she did not know what else to say about the House-elves. She should have been far more apprehensive of the small creatures if it weren't for the fact Edward is soaking in the attention by said tiny creatures. She had to admit they do make amazing food.

"This almost taste like Winry's apple pies..."

"This is...normal?" Roy whispered to Edward.

"I looked into it, they were enlisted to work in the kitchens, moving some things around, cleaning the dorms or the castle in general. They are loyal to the school an- Don't tell them if they did something wrong, you do not want to see what they would do." Edward stopped Jean from commenting something about his own food to one of the elves. Jean quickly retracted whatever he was going to say when he saw tears welled up in the tiny elves' eyes. "It's okay, Lottie. He loves your cookies just as it is."

Lottie the House-elf, stood at around 2 and a half feet tall, her ears are a bit large than the norm and her eyes are a shimmering gray. She is wearing a flower pattern tea towel and is using a red pillowcase as a makeshift hat. She smiled at Edward before she quickly ran off to get him more pie. "More pie for Mr. Elric!"

"They will torture or main themselves if they think it will please their masters or punish themselves... They are amazing, and I am more terrified of them than anyone else in this place."

"You make it sound like there more than you are letting on about them...?" Roy asked raising an eyebrow at Edward.

"...they have their own brand of magic and it is noted that the Wizarding World made it law for them to not wield a wand. For it will greatly increase their magical abilities... that's why I'm terrified of them."

If anything, this only made Ling want them even more.

-.-

Edward let out an exhausted sigh. "I knew this place should have been the last place to visit..."

Roy, Alphonse, Mei, Ling, Lan Fan, Scar and Dr. Marcoh scattered around the library, looking for anything that catches their attention. The others are sitting around the table, playing a card game. By the looks of it, Xiao-Mei is winning. With a huff, Edward headed over to the table and sat in Between Jean and Xiao-Mei. "Deal me in."

-.-

Edward facepalmed at the sight of his brother, Roy, Dr. Marcoh is surrounded by dozens of library books they brought along. Riza is standing by Roy, keeping a close eye around the room for a sort of possible trouble. Alphonse is reading the books aloud for Mei, who has her arms around his neck to look down at the book. Ling had taken his seat, Lan fan is nowhere to be seen, Scar is glancing around the class seeing the random posters posted on the wall and the rest of the Mustang Unit is in his room. They are not needed and they would rather spend the hour snooping through Edward's belongings.

"Monday class. Terrance, Fred, and George." Edward muttered under his breath, keeping an eye on the Grandfather's Clock in the corner of the room. At that moment, said students walked into the classroom for this Monday Alchemy Class. The three of them stopped when they saw the visitors in the classroom. The twins actually jumped backward at the sight of Ling and looked all around the classroom for a certain masked individual. "Come in, come in. It is time to start to the class."

The three slowly headed towards their seats and waited for further instructions. When Edward motioned over to one of the blackboards, they started to pull notebooks, pens, and pencils from their bookbags to start their work. Looks like they have to decode several formulas, nothing new and nothing old. Just how it is now for the start of every class.

"When are you planning on the Battle Royal?" Ling called out to Edward, causing the said young man to glare at him.

The three Hogwarts student's heads snapped up, expressions filled with astonishment that quickly turned into anticipation for this Battle Royal. Now that sounds very, very, interesting.

"I was going to explain that later..." Edward resisted the urge to facepalm again, but he managed to stop himself. "Well, that ruins the surprise."

"Battle Royal?"

"My, my, that sounds interesting."

"Mr. Elric... is anyone going to end up losing their shirts by any chance?"

"Be grateful Armstrong is not here."

"I am! I'm just a very worried spectator."

"Shirts?"

"Why should you be worried about people losing their clothes?"

"Fred... George... There is a man in Amestris that loses his shirt on a constant basis and cries constantly. Be worried. Be very worried..."

"Fred?"

"Yes, George?"

"I'm scared..."

"Me too..."

Once more, Edward facepalmed. Of course, nothing will ever go his way. "Class...boys... pay attention to me."

"Sorry, Mr. Elric..."

"As L...Emperor Ling just mentioned... We are planning a Battle Royal. My brother, General Mustang, Miss. Chang, Mr. Scar, Emperor Ling and..." Edward saw something flutter in the corner of his eye and saw Lan Fan appear next to Ling. The Emperor grinned at him and gave him a thumb up. "Lan Fan... Yes, boys?"

"Who's she?"

Edward pointed over at the said female. "That is Lan Fan, Emperor Ling's number one Bodyguard."

Fred, George, and Terrance turned to see the masked bodyguard. Their eyes widen when the bodyguard took to offer the mask to reveal a young woman with a stoic expression. Said expression fell with Ling lopped an arm around her and pulled her into a bear hug.

"All of them will be showing us offensive and defensive forms of Alchemy and Alkahestry. I want you three to look for at the latest... three? Four friend's maximum each to this event. It will take place this Friday during class and lunchtime. The actual reason behind the event is to inspire others to possibly take Alchemy next year and... for all of you to see Alchemy incomplete action."

-.-

"Get out from under there, Mr. Elric."

"No."

"Mr. Elric..."

"You cannot make me!"

"Edward..."

"Please do not make me leave... They will find me..."

Severus glared down at Edward, who is currently hiding underneath his desk. All he got from the younger man is that the 'Idiotic Emperor' wants him to do something against the Ministry Officials. After that, 'Bastard Mustang' forbade him from doing anything as such against the Officials. It did not help how Hawkeye pointed her gun at him to emphasize the General's point.

"Could you at least go sit at your assigned seat?"

"They will see me the moment they enter the classroom."

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose in complete annoyance. He berated himself for the fact he did not even see this coming. Of course, Edward will come into his classroom to hide. "Go into the supply closet, the supplies will cover your scent."

"Thank you!"

-.-

Ling sat gracefully in his seat at the end of the table, he kept his hands hidden inside the long sleeves of his golden clothing. Sitting on his left is Alphonse, who is his voice and Roy on his right playing the role as mediator between Magical Great Britain and Xing. It is vice-versa Magical Great Britain and Amestris. The Mustang Unit is positioned around the room only adding an intimidating factor to the scene. Sitting in the corner of the room is Scar and Mei, with Riza whispering what is being said during the meeting.

"We would have the children of Xing that have magical capabilities to come here to Hogwa-"

Ling raised his hand to stop the Ministry Official from continuing speaking. He motioned for Alphonse to speak for him. "Xing is in the process of creating a magical school for the people. Amestris has been helping us expand it into an institute for both Alchemy, Alkahestry, Magic or learning in general. This is to ensure the traditions are still being kept within Xing."

"Hogwarts is one of the finest magical institutions in the Wizarding World. You will not find a better education than here!"

"With all due respect, we were not disrespecting this school. On the contrary, we were hoping to emulate something similar back in Xing but...baby steps... baby tiny steps." Alphonse cringed at his own set of words. He was not liking the looks that were shot his way. Glancing over at Ling for any sort of guide, the older male pulled out a scroll from one of his sleeves. Alphonse raised an eyebrow at the fact Ling hid this within his person. Should he be surprised? No. He once saw the Emperor pull out a giant apple, a bag of chips, turkey leg and so on. Reading the scroll only caused Alphonse eyebrows to disappear into his hairline. 'I guess we are taking that route then...'

"Xing had just started to accept magic, it will take a while to fully accept it as a whole. Until then, baby steps. Very small baby steps." Alphonse stated with a docile expression. "Coming here is a huge step and I am sure all of you will understand that? Sending all the children of Xing that show magical capabilities to a foreign country will not go well with a lot of people back home..."

'Where was Edward when you want a distraction to occur?'

-.-

"Me, me, me, me, me, me! Ugh! Self-centered, smug, underhanded bastards! We are not going to get anything done at this rate!" Roy stampeded around Edward's room, cursing out the Ministry Officials not caring if he could be heard. Curing out in Amestrian, no one in that entire castle minis the rest of the occupants in the room, cannot understand it anyway. "What they are trying to do is... It makes me want to pull out my hair!"

"I told you... This place is primarily focused on 'us', 'me', and 'no one else but myself'." Edward commented offhandedly while he corrected homework from his students. "There are times of high incompetence or just right down mulishness. Corrupt, corrupt, corrupt. Too focus on the good and ignoring the bad. Positivity to the point it makes me nauseous."

"Do you have an example?"

"They have stupid laws, denying rights for non-humans, no trails... no trails to prove if one is innocent. At least in Amestris, there's a trail to prove if you are guilty or not guilty... even if you are innocent and made guilty... you still get a trial. The only difference between Magical Great Britain and Amestris is well... the latter tried to turn the entire country into a Philosopher Stone." Edward threw his pen against his desk, ignoring that it bounced off his desk and ran his hands through his hair. "It's so...blah! Like I said to your before, this place has nothing to offer to us at this moment of time. The only ones that are worthwhile are the children, the future of any home and country. Start from the beginning and go from there. We have to show them all we will not be pushed around and are more than willing to call out on their bullshit."

"Oddly... that sounds about right."

-.-

"You cannot be this... Idiotic! A fight? A fight!"

"Hey, if have seen what I did when I was younger...er, this is normal." Edward waved off Minerva's glare. Ended up, she just overheard about the Battle Royal and not wanting to be said event to occur. What if the fight escalates and gets out of control? Will the students be in danger? So many other questions or statements that are made to have the event not occur.

"Did something like this occur back in Amestris?" Pomona asked from her spot in the Teacher's lounge where many the professors are currently in.

"The students that went to Amestris saw a similar event occur between General Mustang and Major Armstrong. Both are highly renowned Alchemist in Amestris and one of the said men is going to be in this Battle Royal. If it makes you feel any better, Dr. Marcoh is on standby if any of them get hurt." Edward responded with a nervous grin, he poured himself a cup of pumpkin juice.

"Is a fight necessary?"

Edward glanced over at Minerva with a blank expression as he slowly drank his pumpkin juice. "The last thing I need is any of the students copying the Transmutation Circles and cause harm to themselves and everyone around them. With this method, they are more focused on the action and wonder of Alchemy. Plus... seeing it in a sedentary form will cause boredom and having a higher chance of one of my friends killing one of the students out of sheer annoyance. It has happened..."

"I'm surprised you haven't killed anyone yet..." Severus muttered under his breath into his cup of steaming coffee.

"Shut up!"

"You didn't deny it."

'...Who said I hadn't already?' Edward grumbled in his mind while he walked away from the lounge room. He already got what he wanted and now he has to focus on surviving the rest of the week.

Tag List Below:

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#Alchemy Series #Magic vs Science #FMA #FMAB #HP #HP/FMA #HP/FMAB #Crossover #AU #Fanfic #chapter 23

[everlarkficexchange]

The Price Of One's Soul

Written by: @peetaspikelets

Prompt 65: “You did all this for me?” Submitted by anonymous via @katnissdoesnotfollowback

Betaed by: @sponsormusings

Rating: M, for adult themes and coarse language.

A/N: This is the first part of my new story. There will be one or two more parts to come which will feature the prompt. It’s been awhile since I’ve written anything, especially Everlark and I’m so glad I decided to go for it. I’ve really missed these two beautiful souls. 

This story was heavily inspired by Mockingjay and Brooklyn 99 because I have no idea what it’s like to work as a police detective. 

Summary: 

“I’m proud and relieved to say that due to the FBI’s efforts, and Mellark’s outstanding work, Operation Mockingjay was a success and last night the FBI arrested Snow and 16 of his associates with a number of charges longer than my arm.”

Everyone in the room applauds and shouts out in glee. It’s not the most professional reaction you would see in a police station, but knowing Snow has finally been arrested brings an enormous sense of relief to everybody who’s ever come across his brutal handiwork.

Katniss, however, remains silent, her mouth unable to form words. She feels overwhelmed by the news and what Peeta was a part of. Luckily, Finnick looks over and must be able to read her mind as he’s voicing the only questions she wants to be answered right now.

“Does that mean Peet’s back? It’s over? He’s back at the seven five?”

Katniss eyes Haymitch with a wide, hopeful expression. Beside her, she thinks she feels Gale tense up, but she’s too engrossed in what’s happening right now to linger on it. Finally, Haymitch meets her gaze and his lips curl into a small smile they don’t see very often. “The boy is back.”

Really? Are you sure about that Haymitch? *EVIL CACKLE*

Enjoy! Let me know what you think :)

CHAPTER 1

“Everdeen! Hawthorne! Where the hell have you been? The daily briefing started 10 minutes ago.”

“Sorry, Captain,” Katniss replies, dropping her backpack on the dirty floor of the briefing room and taking a seat at the front. “We thought we could get in some shooting practice before work. Instead, Gale spent most of his time flirting with Recruit Officer Undersee.”

“I was not,” Gale huffs, taking the empty chair beside her. “She didn’t know how to hold her gun properly, so I thought I’d be a nice guy and teach her how to grip it correctly.”

“Yeah right,” Katniss answers dryly. “With all the giggling I heard in her booth I bet that’s not the only thing you helped her with.”

“What, are you jealous Everdeen?” Gale asks, shifting in his chair to face her, his eyes glinting with smugness. “Because really you don’t need to be. I could always take you out the back and show you how to grip my –”

“That’s enough!” Captain Abernathy snaps, his voice booming off the rooms yellow stained walls. He looks around the group in annoyance. “It’s like I’m stuck here on a daily basis babysitting a bunch of kids.”

“Aww don’t say that, Dad. You know you love us,” Detective Finnick Odair chimes in from across the room. He starts swinging back on his chair and looks over to Katniss, giving her a cheeky wink.

Katniss rolls her eyes and shrugs her braid off her shoulder. She knows when Finnick gets in this type of mood there’s no point in trying to stop him from riling people up. Even someone as superior as the Captain doesn’t miss out on his juvenile antics. It can be annoying at times, but with the seriousness of the job, she’ll admit there are some days she’s grateful for his jovial character.

 “Finnick, be quiet,” Annie hushes beside him.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Finnick reassures his girlfriend. “We all know deep down the Captain is like a big cuddly teddy bear. He pretends to act all gruff and indifferent when I know for a fact the other week he gave Effie from Human Resources a big –”

“If one more person speaks out of turn again, they’ll be on desk duty for a month,” Captain Abernathy snaps, interjecting into the conversation. A vein pulses in the middle of his wrinkled forehead for emphasis.

Sighing, Finnick falls silent and tilts his chair forward, so all legs are safely back on the ground. He stares at the front of the room with a pout like he’s a child who’s been scolded by his favorite teacher.

“Now children, eyes to the front, and let’s get back to discussing the Coin murder case.”

Everybody straightens in their chairs, giving him their full attention as he turns on a large television. Katniss stares as a number of photographs pop up on display, showing the latest crime scene the precinct is investigating. She hasn’t seen these before, so she leans forward in her seat to examine the images of the body.

After all her years of working as a police officer and then being promoted to detective, most crime scenes don’t faze her anymore. It’s like she’s been immunized to the absolute horror human beings can inflict upon one another and today, this case is no exception. The female victim got repeatedly shot with a crossbow. It isn’t a pretty sight, but her mind has the ability to compartmentalize.

After a few minutes, Katniss feels bored as she isn’t one of the lead detectives on the case. Instead, she turns her head to where Finnick and Annie are sitting across the aisle from her. Both are great detectives and good friends of hers. They’re also known as the precinct’s most nauseating couple. Katniss can count on multiple hands how many times she’s caught them at work in a compromising position. She’s had more views of Finnick’s bare arse than any other guy she’s dated. Not that there’s been many, as she’s too committed to the job and not a big socialiser. After a 12-hour shift investigating murders, assaults and robberies she never feels the need to get dressed up and go out. She much prefers going home to her small but comfortable apartment, sitting around in her pyjamas, drinking hot chocolate and watching Netflix.

She doesn’t have many friends. When she was a teenager, she lost her beloved sister Prim and her parents in a car bombing, and ever since then she’s had difficulties in learning how to trust and be vulnerable around people. Even now years later, the hurt is still raw, but she knows - thanks to years of therapy - that she can’t live as a hermit for the entirety of her life.

So, over time and working in close proximity with Gale, Finnick and Annie she’s slowly taken baby steps and allowed them to worm their way into her heart. Even if she wanted to run and hide, their tenacity and loyalty have made it impossible for her to leave. They have her back and she has theirs.

Even Captain Abernathy plays an important role in her life. When they were growing up, she and her sister used to call him Uncle Haymitch, as he was good friends with their parents. He was always a permanent fixture at family barbeques and any big social occasion. Like her, he didn’t handle the nature of their deaths well. Where she purposely isolated herself from the world and didn’t eat or speak to anyone for months, Haymitch turned to white liquor for comfort. In the end, it got so bad that he could barely function. Now years - and a few stints in rehab later - he’s proudly sober and continues slaying that demon daily.

There is another person in Katniss’ life. Certainly the most important person. But these days she tries not to think about him too much.

From the moment Detective Peeta Mellark started his first day at the 75th precinct in Panem, he made it impossible for anybody to hate him. When he first stepped out of the elevator with his carefully styled blond hair and shining blue eyes, it was like he’d just come from a GQ photo shoot. His friendliness and charisma soon followed and caught the attention of everybody immediately, especially the women. Katniss tried to hold it against him, as she was wary of people who had that kind of influence, but his detective skills were too damn good to ignore. In the first few weeks of his arrival he helped her bring down Seneca Crane, a cybercriminal mastermind she’d been hunting for 2 years. After that, they’d worked multiple cases together and he quickly rose from being her casual drinking buddy and trivia teammate to her best friend and confidante.

On their shared days off they would often have lunch together at his family’s bakery before Katniss took him to the local park to teach him how to use a bow and arrow. He wasn’t very good, but he was always keen to join her every week. He had a habit of trying to make her laugh in order to throw her off, but it never worked and the day always left a big smile on her face.

But while he may not have been good at archery, one of Peeta’s many talents was baking. A taste of one of his flaky cheese buns always had her moaning out in pleasure. It soon became a weekly ritual for him to bring in an assortment of baked goods for the whole squad to massacre.

Those were the good old days filled with wonderful memories.

And then things changed.

The day Peeta told her he had to go away for a case and he wasn’t sure when he would be back had come as a shock to her. He had become such a permanent fixture in her life that she felt a sudden rush of loss and sadness. The rational side of her understood and knew the job came first, but the whole situation sucked. After they finally managed to say their goodbyes, she watched him walk away with nothing but a box of his belongings in his hands. But before he got into his car he’d paused and turned around to face her. She swore she saw intense longing staring back at her, an emotion she’d never seen from him before, and it had caused her to freeze in place.

As weeks flew by, she continued being haunted by that moment and spent most of her days trying to decipher what it meant. But ultimately, cases piled up on her desk and she soon stopped replaying the moment, coming to the conclusion that it meant nothing.

“Now, O’Dair. Cresta,” Haymitch barks, pulling Katniss out of her thoughts. “How’s your investigation going on John Cato and Rebecca Clove?”

“We don’t have anything solid on them yet, Captain,” Annie answers with disappointment.

“It won’t be long though,” Finnick adds. “They may be cunning, but they’re also overly confident. It’s a bad combination. They’ll slip up eventually.”

Haymitch nods, satisfied. “Hopefully it’s sooner rather than later.”

“According to our informant, they’re supposed to be meeting with their supplier in a couple of weeks. This could finally be our opportunity to arrest all their sorry asses,” Finnick tells him.

“Good. Keep on them for the next couple of weeks. If you need back up call Everdeen and Hawthorne.”

“Aye, Aye, Captain,” Finnick says, giving him a mock salute.

Haymitch groans in annoyance and closes his eyes. His mouth starts moving slightly, giving Katniss the impression he’s trying to keep his anger in check by counting to 10.

“Hey, Everdeen,” Gale whispers.

Katniss looks over and notices his chair is too close to her own. His muscular thigh is now touching hers, and she can feel the heat radiating off him like he’s trying to burn a hole through her pants.

“You feel like getting some breakfast at Sae’s after we wrap up here? My treat,” he adds, his gaze penetrating.

She narrows her eyes and wonders what the hell is going on with him lately. She’s not sure why he’s basically sitting right up against her and she can’t crack the ardent look he’s now giving her. Over the last few months, she’s noticed the increase of social invitations from him, all of which seemed to be on the romantic side. Only last week he invited her out to dinner to the swanky Panem Bistro. Luckily she’d been sick with a cold, so it had been easy to get out of it. But it hadn’t prevented him from stopping by her apartment with a container of soup.

The shooting range they attended earlier this morning was his idea, but as it was work-related, she didn’t see any harm in saying yes. But now the whole situation was getting confusing - one moment it seemed he was asking her out on a date, and the next moment she’s witnessing him flirt with Recruit Officer Undersee. She doesn’t get men - or more specifically, she doesn’t get Gale Hawthorne.

“Now, before I dismiss you I have an announcement to make,” Haymitch says, turning off the screen. Both Katniss and Gale straighten up in their chairs, forgetting their conversation for a moment, taking note of their Captain’s serious tone. She swears there’s now a look of pride etched upon his face as he looks around the room. And she must not be the only one who notices the change, as all voices in the room cease, and look up at him with renewed interest.

“Now, what I am about to tell you we’ve never been able to discuss as the details were highly classified. But as you all know, 18 months ago Detective Mellark left us to be part of an undercover operation with the FBI.”

Katniss’ body freezes. The sound of his name hits her hard.

“What you didn’t know was that Detective Mellark agreed to infiltrate the Capitol Mafia.”

There are surprised gasps all around the room, the loudest coming from Katniss. She knew he was going undercover, but she had no idea who or what it was for. Obviously, he couldn’t tell her anything and she understood that. But the Capitol Mafia?! That was huge. They’re the worst of the worst. Their leader Cornelius Snow is a sadistic bastard, who runs a highly dangerous underground gang who engage in money laundering, murder, kidnapping, drugs, and bribery. He’s known as the most notorious criminal in Panem, and he was good at covering his tracks. Whenever the precinct investigated one of his crimes there was barely any evidence to link him and when a witness did come forward they were always found poisoned with Nightlock days before they could testify in court.

“It was called Operation Mockingjay,” Haymitch continues above the hushed whispers. “It was originally supposed to be a 6-month stint. However, there were…complications and Detective Mellark was forced to stay undercover longer than we would have liked.

Katniss grips the table, her knuckles turning white.

“I’m proud and relieved to say that due to the FBI’s efforts, and Mellark’s outstanding work, Operation Mockingjay was a success and last night the FBI arrested Snow and 16 of his associates with a number of charges longer than my arm.”

Everyone in the room applauds and shouts out in glee. It’s not the most professional reaction you would see in a police station, but knowing Snow has finally been arrested brings an enormous sense of relief to everybody who’s ever come across his brutal handiwork.

Katniss, however, remains silent, her mouth unable to form words. She feels overwhelmed by the news and what Peeta was a part of. Luckily, Finnick looks over and must be able to read her mind as he’s voicing the only questions she wants to be answered right now.

“Does that mean Peet’s back? It’s over? He’s back at the seven five?”

Katniss eyes Haymitch with a wide, hopeful expression. Beside her, she thinks she feels Gale tense up, but she’s too engrossed in what’s happening right now to linger on it. Finally, Haymitch meets her gaze and his lips curl into a small smile they don’t see very often. “The boy is back.”

“Yes!” Finnick yells, jumping from his chair and fist bumping the air.

“When can we see him? Where is he?” Katniss bursts out, thankful her mouth is finally cooperating with her brain.

Haymitch pauses for a moment, a flash of hesitation in his eyes before he says. “You’ll find him in my office.”

Before Katniss knows what she’s doing, she’s leaping out of her chair and racing towards Haymitch’s office. She hears Finnick’s loud, hurried feet rushing up behind her.

When Katniss reaches her destination she’s confused for a moment, and wonders if in all the excitement and shock she’s accidentally run into the wrong office. She looks up at the name plaque on the door and knows immediately she’s in the right spot. But sitting on the opposite side of the Captain’s desk with his back to them is a man with broad shoulders and ink black hair. His whole body stiffens at their sudden intrusion before he slowly stands up and turns around to face them.

Katniss’ mouth drops open in shock. After Haymitch’s announcement, she was expecting to find her best friend with his signature grin waiting for her, before running over and wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug. But to her utter disappointment, none of that happens. Instead, the person in front of her looks like a stranger. He has Peeta’s familiar blue eyes, but they’re now etched with harshness and shaded by dark circles. His cheekbones are also sharp and defined like he’s lost some weight and his overall demeanour is wary and guarded.

“You’re back?” Katniss says, her tone coming out more like a question than a statement. 

Peeta takes her in silently for a moment. His eyes narrow in quiet contemplation as they travel down from head to toe, mapping her out, trying to become reacquainted. His shoulders relax slightly and he nods his head in acknowledgement. “Katniss.”

His voice is rough and deep like he’s been smoking a pack a day and he makes no other effort towards her. He’s just standing there, staring at her intently and it makes her feel lost.

“Wow, Peeta,” Finnick says, coming up to stand beside her, and taking in his friend’s new hair and dark leather attire. “You’re a brunette now.”

Peeta smirks and runs a hand through his hair, the action making it scruffier. “Yeah, well I thought if I’m going to join the dark side, I may as well put the effort in and go all out.”

Finnick chuckles nervously and leans against the door frame. It’s clear he’s not sure how to take this new Peeta Mellark as well.

“You didn’t join the dark side,” Katniss blurts out before her brain can catch up with her. She doesn’t like the way he’s talking. “You’re a police detective who went undercover to bring down one of the worst criminals in Panem’s history. What you did in the last year and a half was incredibly brave and the operation was a success because of you.”

Peeta looks over to her and shakes his head.

“Peeta, you’re a great detective –”

“Katniss, stop,” Peeta says, raising his hand suddenly, cutting her off. “I don’t want to talk about this now. So don’t go there.”

“It’s okay Peeta,” she continues, ignoring his wish and taking a tentative step towards him like she’s approaching a baby deer. “You’re home and you’re safe. It might take you awhile to forget about Snow, but –”

Peeta suddenly charges towards her, making Katniss freeze mid-sentence. He’s up in her face, looming down at her with a twisted and grotesque snarl. A rush of fear floods her insides.

“Forget, about Snow? Really, Katniss? You say it like it’s so damn easy, but you have no idea,” he spits out. She hears him take a few deep breaths, his eyes still piercing hers, before he transforms his face into a look of indifference. “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I don’t want to forget? That I don’t want to forget Snow? That I don’t want to forget my time with him?”

His words scare her and suck the breath out of her lungs. His cold, unfamiliar glare awakens her need to run and lock herself in a cupboard like she used to do when she was younger. No matter what she ever said, the old Peeta would never have treated her like this. He’s not her Peeta anymore. She can’t even see a glimpse of the old him. He’s acting like their friendship never existed.

The atmosphere in the room is left cold and uneasy as Peeta takes a few steps back and looks down at the floor. He rubs a hand roughly across his forehead multiple times like he’s in pain or agitated.

“So, ummm…you’re back for good then?” Finnick asks carefully in the soundless space, hoping to break the discomfort.

“For now,” Peeta replies simply, not caring to extend his answer as he leans back against Haymitch’s desk. “So, enough about me. What have I missed around here?”

“Nothing much,” Finnick shrugs. “We got a new vending machine in the break room and the department finally updated our surveillance equipment. I wanted to take the new body cams home to try on Annie, but she wouldn’t let me.”

The corners of Peeta’s mouth curl up. “I’m glad to hear you’re still together. I would have thought by now you’d have fucked things up.”

A look of hurt flashes across Finnick’s face before he puts his signature smile back on. “Nah, man. Annie’s my reason for living. She’s my everything.”

Peeta’s eyes soften slightly at the sentiment and he nods his head. He briefly looks over to Katniss, but before she can meet his eyes, he’s turning back around and giving his attention to the new face standing at the door.

“Hey, Mellark. Good to see you, man,” the familiar voice of Gale rings out as he saunters into the office and stands beside Katniss.

“Gale. Nice to see you,” Peeta replies curtly, his eyes narrowing at his old colleague.

Although back in the day the two never fought and worked well together when they had to, there always seemed to be an underlying tension between them which Katniss never understood. She found it difficult sometimes as they were both her friends, yet if she wanted to hang out with them, she usually had to do it separately.

“I like the look you’ve got going on at the moment. It suits you.”

Katniss and Finnick turn and give each other perplexed looks.

“Thanks,” Peeta answers tightly, his jaw tense and eyes cold.

“Yeah, so you’ll notice some changes around here,” Gale continues, swinging his arm around Katniss’ shoulders, and bringing her in closer to his body.

She grows rigid on the spot, too surprised by the public display of affection to push him away.

“We moved some people around in the bullpen after you left on your…mafia holiday. Katniss is now at your desk next to me, but there’s an empty one near the kitchen you can have –”

“No!” Katniss cuts in and wriggles herself free of Gale’s grasp. “Peeta can have his desk back. It’s fine. I’ll take the spare one.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Peeta replies back gruffly. “I’ve already spoken to the Captain and I’ll be moving a desk down to the records room.”

“The creepy basement where no one ever goes?” Finnick asks surprised.

“Yeah, it’s perfect. Besides, open spaces don’t agree with me anymore.”

As he says this Katniss looks down and notices his left hand is shaking like it’s in spasm.

That’s new.

She watches the action sadly, feeling a sudden rush of warmth towards him, which is unexpected after their disastrous reunion. It’s a vulnerable moment (which the others choose to ignore) and it reminds her of the old Peeta. Yes, their first meeting has gone horribly, but once he gets back into his old routine he will remember who he is again and will be back to the Peeta Mellark they all know and love.

She’s pulled out of her reverie by Peeta who’s picking up a ratty box from the floor. She’s curious to know what’s inside, but he quickly balances the weight against his muscular chest before she can sneak a peek. As he heads towards the door, he stops calmly in front of Katniss and Gale.

“So, I’m assuming you two are together now,” he states evenly, his expression giving nothing away.

Katniss’ eyes widen at his assumption but before she can correct him, he’s already walking past them and calling out unkindly over his shoulder. “Sending you my condolences.”

The words sting and Katniss feels tears start to well in her eyes.

They watch him walk down the stairs to the basement, without even a backwards glance. Finnick turns to her in disbelief, while Gale mutters out, “I always knew he was an asshole,” before stomping out of the office.

Katniss wants to run after both of them. She wants to yell at Gale to find out what’s going on with him. And she wants to shake Peeta so hard that he comes back to himself, but her body won’t move. Instead, she feels exhaustion set in and it keeps her rooted to the spot.

“It will be alright, Kat,” Finnick tells her kindly, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “We all know you and Gale aren’t a couple and never will be. And even if it was true it’s none of Peeta’s business anyway. What he said was really uncalled for.”

Katniss nods her head, refusing to show any emotion. Instead, she says, “Thanks Finnick,” and heads towards the bullpen in a daze.

“He’ll come around,” he calls out behind her. “Just give him some time.”

Quietly, she sits down at her desk, ignoring the worried looks being sent her way and opens her top drawer, pulling out a handful of colored photographs. For years the squad used to display pictures of themselves all around the precinct. Some were from Christmas parties, training days, or simply goofing around with each other in between cases. When Peeta went undercover, Haymitch made her take down all the photos that featured him, in order to protect his cover. And they’ve laid in her drawer safe and sound ever since.

She stares sadly at the bundle in front of her, each colored memory seeming like a lifetime ago. In every photo, Peeta is either making a funny face or staring at the camera with an easy-going smile. She wonders when she’ll see it again and then a painful thought occurs to her.

What if they’re wrong? What if he never comes around?

A single tear falls quietly down her cheek. What if Peeta Mellark is lost to her forever?

#Springtime Edition 2019 #submission #peetaspikelets #prompt 65