So how does Yellow Mei react to learning about Green Son's crush on Red MK? How does Red Mei react to Green MK and Yellow Son getting together?
Green Son hasn’t told Mei yet, she seems to already know somehow (but she won’t tell him she knows, she’s a good bro and will let him tell her in his own time). Red Mei caught them being lovey-dovey in the middle of patrol, this definitely gives Mei a new advantage.
fws doing something out of their comfort zone (up to you)
was just in my askbox and came across this prompt that I obviously missed, lol. anyways I actually wrote something that kinda fulfills it a while ago (s/o to @notzilon for the suggestion). I kind of hate it but it's been long enough that I don't really mind anymore, so, here you go!! sorry for the delay. ficlet under the cut.
It was like existing inside a painting.
Such had been the distinct awareness that settled over Hilda upon entering the compound’s gates. It wasn’t even that everything was perfect in a conventional sense - the sprawling gardens were a carefully-tended wilderness – there was just something deliberate about the entire layout reminiscent of an artist’s touch. From the buildings, all comprised of spotless, whitewashed stone set alight in the setting sun, to the pleasing gradient of the tangle of grasses beneath her feet. Even the myriad of wildflowers that bobbed and swayed in the gentle summer breeze seemed strategically placed, as though planted along a grid.
It made her uneasy from the outset.
She had not lasted long without needing some air. That was what had brought her out here, to this little patch nestled in the shadow of what appeared to be the potting shed behind the main hall.
With a sigh she dropped to her haunches in the grass, head pressed into her hands. She allowed herself to simply sit for a moment, listening to the frenetic thrum of her pulse settle into a more comfortable rhythm.
This was stupid. She was overreacting. She knew that. And yet…
It wasn’t the acolytes. They had been nothing but polite. More than that, they were excited. When N had stridden into the mess hall, her in tow, the buzz of conversation died down in an instant. Countless sets of eyes had flickered in acknowledgement at their Lord’s presence and then swivelled to her, searching. Expectant.
N had ensured there would be no ceremony about their arrival but the crowd had obviously been briefed; whether officially or by word of mouth, Hilda wasn’t sure. Nevertheless she barely managed not to flinch at the knowing looks and murmured greetings of ‘My Lord’ and ‘Hilda’, as they passed by and took their seats at the head of the room by Concordia and Anthea. Anthea beamed at her, to which Hilda offered a shaky smile in return, whereas Concordia merely nodded stiffly. It did not escape her notice that whilst the siblings’ position in the hall was not in any way distinguished from the others – they sat at a communal table like everyone else – these were clearly their seats.
She sat in something of a daze until N squeezed her knee with an encouraging smile. “Are you alright?” he’d whispered.
“Huh? Oh. Yeah, fine.”
He leaned in closer, his hair brushing her cheek. “Is this alright?” he whispered. “You had said you didn’t want to make a fuss about introductions, so I thought dinnertime seemed the most logical approach. We’re optimally positioned so that conversation can come about naturally and integrate-“
“I told you, this is fine,” she snapped. He drew back, hurt lancing across his expression. Immediately, a hot prickle of shame burst across the back of her neck. In the background she could see his sisters eating their meals with an exaggerated nonchalance, trying and failing to appear as though they weren’t listening in.
“Sorry,” she murmured, contrite. She covered his hand with her own. “It’s just… a lot to take in.”
“Of course,” he replied, his gaze softening. She was forgiven without a second thought. “Let me get you something to eat.”
Before she could stop him he had risen to his feet to stride over to the pots bubbling cosily all along the back wall. He moved along the rows with the assuredness of a clergyman amongst his beloved parishioners: touching shoulders, shaking hands, even occasionally crouching down to engage in brief snatches of conversation. Never before had she seen him like this, so… confident, so utterly at ease. He… really belonged here.
The realisation sat like a shard of flint in her throat.
“It’s nice to have you here at last.” A voice beside her startled her from her contemplation.
“Oh!” She turned to face the small woman who had spoken. She erred on the older side of middle-age, with a gently rounded face and an open, inviting smile. The web of lines extending from their corners spoke of eyes that spent much of their time crinkled with joy, or in laughter. “Thank you.” She couldn’t quite bring herself to add ‘it’s good to finally be here.’
“We’ve all been very excited to meet you.” The woman’s smile widened. “Of course many of us were aware of you before, with the… incident.” Her voice dropped. “But it’s much better to get to know you like this, as Lord N’s b-…companion.”
Hilda managed not to wince at her near slip-up. “Uh, yeah. He was keen to show me around. I know… the Foundation means a lot… to him…” her words trailed off as she caught sight of N once more. He was standing at the food table alongside an acolyte, laughing heartily at something he had said. What struck her, though, was the way his hand rested on the man’s shoulder. Not that that in itself was strange; years of touch-starved loneliness had cemented in him a craving for tactility. No, what drew her notice was how… casual it was. They looked so normal, like those people in the advertisements you saw on the front of grocery stores.
She knew N put a great deal of thought into how he conducted himself. The nuances of human expression remained something of an enigma to him, and the rules around physical contact were among the strictest of all. Even when it was just them she could sense his… hesitancy, almost, as though his every move were a question.
In this interaction there was no trace of that. Here was where N felt he could exist without fear of judgement. Not only did he belong here but this world belonged to him, too.
How could she ever give him that?
“Hilda, are you alright?” the woman placed a careful hand on Hilda’s arm. “You’ve gone very pale.”
“Oh, fine, thank you,” Hilda burbled, scrambling to her feet. “Sorry, just feeling a little queasy. Gonna get some air.”
Before she could protest Hilda had made a beeline for a side door she’d identified the second they had stepped across the threshold. She kept her head firmly down, eyes on her feet, arms folded against her sides, until she burst out into the cool evening air.
And, thus, here she was: sitting by herself in the garden with her head between her knees like a sulking toddler. Not her finest moment.
“I heard you were feeling unwell?”
Not for the first time that evening Hilda was interrupted by an unfamiliar greeting. She straightened hastily and spun round to find herself eye to eye with Concordia.
Immediately she felt her stomach tighten, and for an intense couple of seconds she wondered whether she might actually throw up.
“Uhm, a little,” she drew her arms around her chest. “Just needed some air. No need for concern.”
Concordia smiled, her blonde hair falling about her face in glimmering tendrils. In the half-dark, bathed in the rich glow of the setting sun she had the appearance of some divine apparition, of a being more light than flesh. Idly, Hilda wondered just how discerning Ghetsis had been in his selection of his prophets.
“Lord N was terribly worried. He returned with your food but you had disappeared.” She tilted her head, eyes crinkling with sympathy. “Sister Jean was concerned she had upset you, somehow. Told us you had taken off with nausea. I assured them both I would ensure you were taken care of.”
Somehow those words were not comforting in the least.
“My apologies to… Sister…. Jean for worrying her. As I said, I really just feel a bit sick. Think it’s the heat in there.” Hilda turned away, unable to meet her speculative gaze. “No need to trouble yourself. I’ll return shortly.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble at all. Would you like me to fetch you some medication?”
“No, no really. I just need a moment alone,” she replied through her teeth. She was at a loath to be so direct, but… Concordia was the last person she needed inquiring after her health right this second.
“I see.” A pause. Hilda held her breath, listening to Concordia choose her words. And then. “I’m sorry our provisions were not to your liking.”
At this, Hilda whirled round to stare her down. “That’s not what I said.”
Concordia lifted her chin slightly, a shadow of a smile tracing her lips. “Oh, no. You didn’t say anything. You didn’t need to.” She arched a perfect eyebrow. “It was clear to myself and everyone else present without the assistance of words that you resented every moment spent in our company.”
“What are you…” Hilda drew herself up, her earlier apprehension falling away with the ease of a discarded garment. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“On the contrary, Hilda, I know exactly what I’m talking about. You will find that on matters of the Foundation and its interactions with the outside world I am something of an expert.” She folded her hands behind her back to stroll over and stand by Hilda’s side, as nonchalantly as though they were discussing the weather. “Not that the same can be said for Lord N.”
Hilda’s eyes narrowed. “The hell do you mean by that?” she growled.
Concordia just smiled, entirely unphased. “My dear brother remains in hope that there will come a time in the near-future where a distinction between ‘the outside world’ and ‘The Foundation’ will be rendered unnecessary.” She rocked on her heels, pensive. “He has not spent enough time amongst humans to fully realise just how distant we are from such a goal. And even then, he’s something of an optimist. Which, I admit, can be effective; ruthless pragmatism is fine when you’ve got to draw up a budget but not so much when you’re asking people to devote their lives to your cause.”
“You don’t-”
“Let me finish.” Concordia held up a hand. “It’s not that N wishes to recruit the world to our Foundation, it’s more that he wants to build a world where our efforts as an organisation are no longer required. He believes a world where all humans carry out our teachings as second nature is within our grasp. Of course, both you and I know that’s impossible. In this lifetime, at least.” Hilda resented the knowing look she gave her at that, as though the two of them were in on something.
“Okay, so, what exactly are you trying to say?” Hilda barked. At her side her hands were curled into fists, her nails digging little moon-shaped divots into the soft skin of her palm.
Concordia turned to face her fully, then. Hilda drew in a startled breath at the sudden intensity of her expression.
“Do you not understand?” she murmured, imploring. “You think that N has chosen you, but he hasn’t. He doesn’t even completely understand that it’s a choice he needs to make.”
“I never asked him to choose anything.”
“No. And therein lies the problem. That should have been a line you made clear from the outset.” Concordia sighed. “Now it’s our problem.”
Hilda took a step backwards. “You’re wrong,” she hissed. “N knew before we started… seeing each other that I found the Foundation unsettling. I agreed to try. But he knows how I feel.”
“That may be so, but as far as he’s concerned that’s a temporary issue. Your unease hasn’t factored into his calculations down the line because he truly believes there will come a point in your future where the Foundation as we know it won’t be necessary to reckon with.” Concordia folded her arms. “And you… well, you just didn’t want to think about it. Because it frightens you.”
Hilda opened her mouth, but both of them knew it was just for show; to that, she had nothing to say.
“Concordia? Hilda? Is everything all right?”
As though on cue the pair of them whipped round to see N peering out the side door, brow furrowed in concern. Hilda fought the urge to go to him, to take his hands and beg him to come with her, anywhere. Just somewhere far, far away from here.
Instead, she straightened, drawing her arms around herself. “Yeah, fine,” she mumbled. “Concordia was just checking on me.”
“Yes, she said she would. But you didn’t come back?” He stepped forward to stand before Hilda, head tilted so as to examine her expression. She couldn’t meet his eyes.
“Nothing to worry about my Lord, I was merely engaging Hilda in some conversation to take her mind off her discomfort.” Concordia bowed her head, the shift in her demeanour nauseatingly jarring. “I do hope it was effective.”
“Oh.” N peered down at her. “Did it help? How do you feel?”
“Mm, yeah.” She fidgeted beneath his scrutiny. “A little better. I’m not… very hungry though. I think I’d like to lie down.”
“You want to lie down?” N raised a cool hand to press to her forehead. “Are you sure you’re not ill?”
“No, no. Just… kind of exhausted. Legs are still pretty weak, you know.” She exhaled a shaky breath, closing her eyes against a sudden swell of tears. His touch brought her back to carefree days spent in that cosy apartment, snuggled against him watching terrible daytime TV pretending they hadn’t left their lives at the door.
“Right…” He clearly did not believe her, but to her relief could sense she was not in a fit state for an interrogation. “Well, I’ll take you to your quarters to rest. Concordia, could you let the others know I’ll return shortly?”
“Of course, my Lord. Hilda, I do hope you feel better. I’ll take my leave.” Concordia bowed her head and with that, turned and swept back into the dining hall. Hilda waited until she had departed to speak again.
“I… I don’t think I should stay, N,” she whispered. N stared down at her in shock.
“What?” he asked. “But why? I thought…”
“I know, I know it’s what we agreed, but I just…” she bit her lip. “I just don’t think I can. I’m sorry.”
“But why?” he repeated, a note of distress leaking into his tone. “Did something happen?” Eyes widening, he glanced back in the direction Concordia had gone. “Did my sister say something to upset you? Because I can-”
“No, no. I promise. She… she just gave me some… advice. It’s all fine, I swear.” She gazed up at him, pleading. “Just leave it alone, okay? I just need to get home. I’ll go to the doctor about strengthening my painkiller prescription in the morning.”
Gently, N lifted his hands to take hers in his own. She could sense the urgency in how he searched her face, desperate for any glimmer of insight. And god, she wished she could give him something. Anything. But how could she even begin to explain? Concordia was right, of course. Right about all of it. And she didn’t know what to do now.
“Well, I’ll walk you to the gates, then,” he replied after a moment, shoulders sagging in defeat. “We’ll make sure you get home safely.”
“Oh, you’re not…” she swallowed. “You’re not… coming?”
“Well, no, I… I can’t go just like that. Everyone was informed in advance I would be around for a couple of days, so it would be horribly unfair of me to just disappear with such little notice.” He squeezed her hands, eyeing her worriedly. “They’re my family Hilda I can’t just… leave them. You understand, don’t you?”
She did. She understood perfectly.
“Yeah, yeah,” she gabbled, pulling away so he wouldn’t see the tears on the brink of spilling over. “That’s no problem. I can make my own way back - I’ll see you in a day or so.”
Before he could say another word she had taken to her heels toward the exit, aware of the eyes watching her from the doorway.
