#<- MY SPECKS OF LIGHT. AGH

[slashmagpie]

spotify wrapped-77?

Send me a number 1-100 and i will try to write a short fic based off whatever song that corresponds to in my spotify wrapped replay 2023!

“Oh, hello.”

The newcomer blinks. One ear twitches. Ren turns towards her, eyes wide, startled. 

“Lizzie?”

“It’s good to see you again,” says Lizzie, and she’s only a little facetious, only a little bitter.

“Where… are we?” Ren looks around. It’s dark. The void stretches on and on forever, flecked with specks of light.

“Dead,” says Lizzie dully.

“Oh.” He blinks, rubbing at his head. “I don’t know what happened, I was—I was Tango, for a bit, I think? And now—oh. Oh, I feel sick.”

“Yeah, it’ll do that to you,” she says, flicking a nail. “How’ve you been, Ren? I haven’t seen you in a while.” She stares at him through narrow eyes.

“I haven’t seen you either, my Queen,” he says with a bow. “It’s been far too long.”

She snorts. Hugs her knees to her chest. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“What did I do?”

“My Queen,” she echoes, mocking. 

“Well.” Ren hesitates. “You were.”

“Not anymore.” She reaches up, swipes her wrist across her eye. She’s not crying anymore, though. There are no tears to wipe away. It just burns. “Now I’m dead!”

“Are you okay?” Ren asks.

She laughs. “I died. It wasn’t even for my task! It wasn’t even cool! I just—I looked at an enderman—why wasn’t I wearing a bloody pumpkin?! I spent so long trying to convince Cleo to wear a pumpkin, and then I—agh. It was embarrassing. I’m an embarrassment.” She buries her face in her knees. “Don’t look at me.”

Ren is quiet. She thinks, for a moment, that he’s moved away, but then there’s a hand in her hair, and a voice saying, “I don’t think you’re an embarrassment, my Queen.”

She snorts. “Everyone else does,” she says lowly. “I died before Jimmy. Do you know how embarrassing it is to die before Jimmy? Everyone says he’s cursed! I’m just—I’m just—incompetent. And nobody even cared.”

“I care,” Ren says softly.

“You’re dead too.” She scowls into her skirt. “You weren’t even really alive.” 

“...That doesn’t mean I don’t care.” 

“You didn’t.”

“What?”

“Last time—Last Life—you—you didn’t want me anymore. And then I died. And this time—I was alone again. I thought I worked better alone. Certainly worked better than all that nonsense with the Fairy Fort. But—here I am again! Dead!” She laughs. “Stupid game. I shouldn’t have played.”

“I know the feeling, my friend.” He settles down, sitting beside her with a sigh. “It’s okay. You don’t have to play again if you don’t want to. God knows I don’t.”

She steals a sideways glance at him. “How come?”

He grimaces. “Do you know how I died last time?”

“No.”

“Grian dropped dripstone on my head. I didn’t even see it coming. It was—it was a one in a million chance, my dude, the luckiest shot in the world, and he made it. Everyone thought it was so cool. Nobody thought that it was sad that I was dead. Well, except for Grian, who thought it was sad that BigB died because of me.”

Lizzie tilts her head to the side. Peers up at him. “That must be pretty embarrassing for you, huh,” she says.

His ears flick back against his head as he sags. “So embarrassing.”

“Well…” She straightens up a little. Rubs at her eyes again. Says, “I suppose if someone must see me in such a state, it should be someone who’s just as pathetic as me.” Offers him a small smile.

“Aye, my Lady,” he says with a laugh. “What a pathetic pair we make.”

[oflgtfol]

well i did say that first time photographing would not look good

[unproduciblesmackdown]

enjoy some pencil drawings for once

screenshot study and what amounts to a conceptual illustration of a writing idea

[dilftaroooo]

—𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: gojo x reader

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: female reader, race/ethnicity is not mentioned.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1.1k+

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: you both stumble across a hardcore porn video one night and masturbate to it. just typical things friends do with each other.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: mutual masturbation, porn watching, friends with benefits.

𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐁𝐄 𝟏𝟔 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐎 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓.

The high pitched whines that emerged from Satoru's laptop was alarming, your eyes widen in shock at the aggressive thrusts the man - who was clearly elderly looking, much to your dismay - was punishing the petite woman with.

The both of you leaned closer to the lit screen.

"Woah. Look at how fast he's fucking her. Are you seeing this shit?" Grin wide on his face, intrigued by the video that played in front of him.

The click of your tongue went ignored by your white-haired friend. "Yes, of course I see it, idiot." Eyes still focused on the screen.

Little words were dispersed due to the video that stole both pairs of eyes. This wasn't intentionally planned when you came over to Satoru's that night. Drinking a couple of beers, watching an abundant amount of shitty movies, and talking about the misery of your lives was suppose to suffice that day. Porn videos wasn't remotely close on that list.

Slaps of sticky skin reverberated in your head and you couldn't resist to lick the curve of your lip, dehydrated and dry as the inside of your mouth.

Satoru did the same too.

Arousal ablaze five minutes into the pornographic clip and you were both fidgeting on the faux leather couch - worn down and old, chipping away piece by piece and littering your clothes with black specks but you weren't fazed from it.

Right now the heat pulsating between your legs was what your mind was dwelling over. Indecent words were exchanged between the two that made you rub your thighs together.

"Mmmh, fuck, right there, daddy!"

"You like that? Of course you do you dirty bitch. Is my dick the only thing you can think about?"

"Yes - agh! - yes, yes!"

Her jaw was slack from the rigor of his thrusts and her blonde hair was attached to her skin from the downpouring sweat. You refrained from touching yourself, it was hard, it really was, but you couldn't just spread your legs and encircle your beating clit, as much as you wanted to you couldn't do that next to Satoru-

But you guess your morals are no longer relevant when you side eyed Satoru to see him touching himself through his basketball shorts.

Cerulean blue orbs still lingered on the screen as he bit his bottom lip to quell the raspy wails he wished to let out but he didn't want you to find out what he was doing next to you - his best friend.

He failed to realize that you knew exactly what he was doing. You were awed that he would have the audacity to masturbate while you were literally a foot away from him. But this is Gojo Satoru we're talking about.

Giving in, your hand gorged your right breast, thanking any God above that you chose to wear a thin shirt tonight. You whimpered at the soft flick of your erect buds, the tickling sensation increasing your passion to stride further down - to which you conclude.

Hand buried deep in your burgundy boy shorts you trail past the light wisp of pubic hairs to your tender pussy lips, vagina building up with your bodily fluids.

You exploit the juices leaking from your entrance and take the chance to rub circles around your greedy clit - matching the tempo of the video. Electricity coursed through your veins by your meticulous touches, each caress made your thigh twitch with a vehement ache.

"Are you wet?" The question interjected the moans that played through the laptop. The tinge of embarrassment was inevitable, such words coming from your friend's glossed lips was unorthodox - sinful.

The slight nod of your head didn't go unnoticed. "Y-Yeah."

"Shit." The low growl rumbled in Satoru's throat by your answer. He felt his cock strain against his slender fingers, precum trickled down the underside of his member. The natural lube gave him a smooth stroke that elicited a severe moan from Satoru.

It got to the point where the squelching didn't just come from the laptop. The both of you were indulged with exploring every crevice of your perfervid bodies. You were eager to ease the tension of your libido, to come to the lecherous sight of the rough fucking displayed on the fifteen inched screen. But masturbating next to each other did nothing but strengthen your seduction.

Hot and heavy breaths filled the heady atmosphere. You heard the rough strokes of Satoru's clasped hand grazing against his throbbing cock and Satoru heard the wet splosh of your fingers delving in your pussy.

The actors in the video were close to coming, the clenched teeth and retracted eyes gave off obvious evidence. The man's thrusts were gradually getting sloppier and drool dribbled down the woman's chin as she choked out quick, individual moans. The camera zoomed up on their connected sexes, the cream that coated his dick flew uncontrollably and onto the lens, balls swinging and colliding with her naked clit.

You imagined that it was you in that spot, quivering at the sensation of a large cock digging deep in your guts, plowing you with no remorse. You would look up to find the white tuffs of hair feathering your tingling cheek and hazy blue eyes boring into yours. The thought alone was enough to make you quake.

Your pace quickened and so did Satoru's. The tension inside your core was building at an immense speed. You both needed to come. You both needed to release fluids that was yearned to be free. 'Squelch, squelch, squelch,' 'fap, fap, fap.' The noises were repetitive, growing in volume from the slick that lathered your sexes. Moans left your lips and hips thrusting to the rhythm of your touches. You were close. So so close. More - more, more, more. You needed more. You couldn't stop.

"Oh God! Keep fucking me there, yes, oooh I'm gonna come!"

"Yeah, good girl, come on my dick. Come on my dick as I fill this creamy pussy up."

"Fuck, Y/n..."

"Satoru...!"

"I'm coming! Oh fuck - I'm coming!!"

"Oh shit!"

So refreshing. So alleviating to feel your fluids squirt out of you. It was a pain you were relieved to get rid of. Satoru released the tension in his shoulders, pleased that he met face-to-face with his climax. Milky cum glided down the bump of his knuckles and he wiped it off with the crumbled napkin that was next to him.

You both sighed. Video was now finished and showed you a pitch black screen with a play button that was placed in the middle.

Satoru tucked himself in his shorts and turned towards you with a shit-eating grin.

"Wanna watch a movie?" It was like you didn't just masturbated together in the last millisecond - that's what you love about him. You returned the look with squinted eyes.

"Sure."

©𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 @dilftaroooo. 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐲 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.

[luvmxmh]

mx. sinister

ADRIAN CHASE APPRECIATION WEEK

Day 3: favorite trait / alternate universe

Pairing: Adrian Chase/Reader

Disclaimers: gender-neutral reader, mentions of injuries, self-harm (reader agitates their wounds on purpose to 'feel' something), angst with happy ending, hurt/comfort, reader is vigilante

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary:

“You’re Vigilante,” he whispers.

“I am Vigilante, yeah.”

“Holy smokes, Peacemaker.”

...was that seriously a Batman reference.

Author's Note: reader may be vigilante but adrian’s still fucked in the head and reader went “that is my baby girl and i can fix him (make him worse)”. also i have zero idea how bathtubs work

Cross-posted on AO3

You’re so glad you took your carpet to cleaning yesterday.

The red visor attached to your mask is cracked, and you internally curse whoever landed the blow on them. They’re prescription, goddamnit.

It paints for an ominous vision of red values. Criminals always make you see blood— the sight of their death is a craving unmatched by any other worldly sustenance there is. Perhaps it’s a dramatic way of putting it, but you might as well compensate from the lack of flair you have in your regular life.

You suppose it’s one of those nights where you see your own blood too. You aren’t gushing waterfalls of red from your wounds which means most of your arteries weren’t ruptured. Small mercies.

But you’re so fucking sore it hurts to think to move. You’re usually much more meticulous about your post-patrol routine. Shit, what if someone knocks on your door? Your lights are on to give the pretense that you’re home when you’re actually out in the streets as Vigilante. It’s late enough that your neighbors won’t be awake to see you sneak into your apartment, but you’re not taking chances tonight.

This is a prime example of a treacherous mind driven by an innate paranoia.

You’re giving yourself enough trouble lying in what feels like your own sick on the floor, and begrudgingly you lift yourself off the ground knees-first.

Limping your way to the bathroom is an arduous task in itself. You don’t have to turn around to see specks of blood you’ve left in your wake. You turn the lights on, and you sit on the toilet lid.

Groaning from your sore muscles, you begin to take the armor off, starting with the mask. You toss it in the sink so you could remember that it’ll be your first priority for repair and cleaning. Routine begins like clockwork as you remove armor pieces that require the least stretching, before moving on to the more intricate bits (the ones to that cover vulnerable spots without compromising mobility).

You run some hot water, eager to wash off the grime from your skin. Dried blood (which you could already surmise is not your own) is already flaking. This might be the part you like the least. You never did like sticky fluids sticking. On you, specifically. It makes you want to scratch at your skin until it bleeds. Although, that would be counter-productive in this situation. You dip a few fingers into the tub.

The water is finally warm enough to not overly agitate your wounds, but hot enough—

“Agh—”

For it to ground you. Bring you to the world of the waking people.

You probably should’ve tilted your head lower when you brought the damp washcloth to drip over your head. Your eyes and mouth remain closed until after you finish wiping your face.

The water is tinted pink by the time you’ve cleaned the upper half of your body. It always starts with the face to the shoulders, then the torso to the hips, and eventually the thighs to the ends of your feet. The only times you deviate from this is when you have grievous injuries on specific areas that need tending first.

You wonder if you should’ve gone straight to the tub. The dampness of sweat replaced by warm water brings relief to your skin. You lean towards the bathtub to pull the drain and—

“Honey?”

Oh no.

You turn your head around to see Adrian holding an umbrella like he’s about to hit someone with it. He drops it beside him but remains frozen in the doorway. You’re only dressed in your underwear, your back and your scars and your gashes in display.

He glances at the sink, no doubt seeing your mask.

Oh fuck.

You can’t kill him. Oh no. Not Adrian—he shouldn’t have—he wasn’t supposed to visit you this late. How could you forget to lock the door? Did you forget to lock the door? How could you be so careless?

God, the room is so blurry and your head hurts from the inside. The adrenaline is making your brain run a mile a minute but your body remains frozen from the shock of Adrian abruptly showing up by the bathroom entrance.

“Hey, hey, hey. Breathe,” He kneels down in front of you, holding your hands that have hurt people, that have killed people, that have done things that would make you clean every crevice of your skin almost every night, “Baby? Baby listen to me, I’m not mad or anything. It’s okay, just breathe. I’m not here to snitch or— or report you, just please tell me you’re okay.”

The tension lingers, but Adrian’s rattled speech pulls you out of your hysteria. You can’t imagine how freaked out he must be, seeing you in the state that you are in.

“I’m…” You hesitate, “I’m sorry you had to see me like this.”

The tank of the toilet is cool against your back when you lean against it, digging into your shoulder blades as you lean against it. Despite your relaxed posture you can’t help but remain tense.

“You’re Vigilante,” he whispers.

“I am Vigilante, yeah.”

“Holy smokes, Peacemaker.”

...was that seriously a Batman reference.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, trying to ground yourself once more from an almost panic attack.

“I got off work late because they made me do inventory and I decided to see how you’re doing since you said you have insomnia and all. The lights were on and—and you weren’t answering the door and I thought something happened to you because usually when you come home you’d play some music even when it’s so late, and I got paranoid when you wouldn’t answer and busted through your door and then there’s blood leading to the bathroom so I took your umbrella from the rack and… here we are.”

You have no idea how you didn’t hear him, but you chalk it up to your exhaustion.

“Adrian.”

He looks at you intently.

“Thank you,” you whisper, squeezing his hands weakly, “For checking up on me.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” He stands up and examines the mess that is your bathroom, “Please let me take care of you? I know both of us are super freaked out but I don’t know if I can handle a whole explanation while you look like you’re about to pass out.”

You nod. The both of you just got out of your jobs (or at least Adrian did. No one is paying you to be Vigilante), and now that everyone’s safe it’s probably for the best to shelf some conversations for later.

He helps you get into the tub with clean water once he drains it from the water mixed with your blood. You sit upright at the ceramic, letting him guide your back to him. His bony fingers massage the back of your neck between your spine.

“Can I ask something?” He sounds a bit nervous.

“Anything,” you tell him seriously. You hope he can sense that.

“Why Vigilante?”

You blink.

“Why did you choose that name?”

“I never wanted to be Vigilante.” You sigh, leaning your head back to meet his gaze upside-down. “I mean, I’ve never been more certain about becoming Vigilante and doing what I do in the name of justice.”

“Then… why regret it?”

“The citizens of Evergreen gave me the name Vigilante because I wouldn’t talk to the bolder journalists when they’d ask.” You look at him with a morose expression, “I wanted to be known as, I don’t know, Vengeance or something. Instead I was Serial Killer the serial killer.”

If you said this to anyone else, you suspect they’d laugh at you. But Adrian doesn’t seem to as bemused as you’d daresay others would be. Not that many people know you’re Vigilante. Once they see you off the mask their blood will stain your fingernails for the next few days.

“I think Vigilante is cool. It reminds people who you are, and what you do for them.”

You smile. “I’m glad you think of me that way.”

The moments that follow are occupied with silence. It feels like something is ruminating—but you don’t know what. As you dry off and put on pajamas Adrian almost looks blank. You know him well enough to know he’s contemplating, but you won’t pry—at least, not until he lets you.

“You said you broke the door down?” You don’t want to risk a home invasion, but you don’t want Adrian to leave your side right now.

“The door still had some secure hinges on it. You know I’m not that strong.”

“But you’re here, anyway. For me. That’s all that matters.”

You don’t know how much the revelation would change the dynamic of your relationship. You don’t want to disregard the sparks in his eyes, glinting with an eerie eagerness when he found out who you are. The excitement you feel is undeniable, buzzing under your skin.

At first, you think you’re going to ruin him but that doesn’t seem right. Adrian wouldn’t hurt a fly, and even if he wanted to he’d look like a fool doing so (—your fool). He’s all gangly limbs with an innocent face and nerdy glasses he’s worn since boyhood.

But it’s not mutually exclusive with how he gets hyper-focused in his fixations like DND; how frenzied he looks when talking about the wrong things in the world and Evergreen to the point it looks like it physically hurts him; how he rambles on and on to you about what he learns in law school; how he finds moments in slasher films funny that raises peculiarity even to you—

It’s fascinating to you. He’s so fascinating to you.

‘No,’ you think. You’re just going to be bringing out a dormant part of him waiting to be found— to be noticed.

The pillow feels so soft and cool pressing against your cheek. Adrian looks peaceful for once, and you take the time to admire the lamp-lit contours of his face. His eyes are closed. The only indication of him being awake is his hand softly pressing shapes into your shoulder blades.

You might not ruin him, but by God is he going to ruin you.

[morocosmos]

Febuwhump Prompt: 08 - No Anesthesia Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Characters/Relationships: Warrior of Light/Haurchefant Greystone (pre-relationship) Trigger/Content Warning(s): Major injury, blood, intense pain

White fur glittered with a thousand specks of ice before Moro'a as he came to his senses. With clarity came pain: sharp and strong at his lower abdomen with every shaky breath. Snatches of memory trickled in as he winced – Mirka bellowing out a mighty roar as his magic had struck her square in the back, hoping to give Haurchefant an opening; the yeti barreling towards him far faster than he'd anticipated, time too scarce to dodge out of the way –

Mirka was dead. The yeti lay slumped before him, blood oozing out from a deep wound at the base of her skull like a grotesque fountain, already solidifying. With growing horror, Moro'a traced a path from the corner of the yeti's mouth where one scarlet tusk began, all the way to where it had embedded itself deep into his side. Just a bit higher and it would have been through his heart. He tore his gaze away; looking at it made it hurt all the more.

“Moro'a!” Haurchefant was at his side the next instant. He looked disheveled and winded, and sported an unenviable number of scrapes and bruises, but to Moro'a's relief he seemed otherwise unharmed. The length of his sword was stained crimson.

“You're –” The pain turned the rest of his words into a groan; it was all he could do to grit his teeth till it died down to something barely sufferable. It hurt to breathe at all; by now he could feel his own blood, warm and seeping through the fabric of his robes. Alive, he'd meant to say. It seemed a miracle that he still was.

“Please, do not exert yourself.” Haurchefant knelt down close to him. “Fury,” he cursed as he stared at Moro'a's bloodied, ruined side. “'Tis a blessing that you yet live, but we must bring you aid as swiftly as we can!”

How? Far from Falcon's Nest and exposed to the harsh elements, there was little time before the wound took an irreparable toll on him. Haurchefant was so close that Moro'a could feel his breath, hot against his cheek. Their eyes met; he could tell that his friend was doing his best to put on a brave face, but in truth, he'd never seen the knight look so frightened. It threatened to undo his own nerves then and there.

He couldn't panic and die, not here. Not when Tataru and Alphinaud needed him; not when the rest of the Scions had yet to be found and the Dragonsong War yet raged on. The light of hope, Minfillia had called him, moments before she'd bid him run...though it still stung bitterly to be relied upon in such a way. 

“We have to...get this out,” Moro'a gasped in between bursts of pain as he examined Mirka's tusk. It seemed enormous. “Once it's out, I can – agh – seal the wound, stop the bleeding.”

Haurchefant frowned, his expression grave. “I do not doubt your healing capabilities in the slightest, but the pain...we have no numbing potions.”

Moro'a tried not to think about it; about the agony to come. The sooner they started, the less time he'd have to hesitate. “Do we have a choice?” he said weakly.

The knight closed his eyes. “Fury,” he said again, but conceded, “You're right; we have little time as it is. But if there is a way I can help you, however difficult it may be...” To Moro'a's surprise, the knight reached for his hand and held it tight in his own. “Say the word and it shall be done. I will not have you die when you have suffered so much to make it this far.”

“I…” Moro'a tried to ignore the way his cheeks had begun to burn. Absurd, how the elezen’s sincere loyalty could make him feel in the middle of such a predicament. When they were out of this, if he made it out of this…perhaps…for now, he shoved aside his feelings. 

“Cut some cloth off my robes and roll it up,” he instructed instead, gritting his teeth. “Need to make sure I...don't bite my tongue off.”

Haurchefant complied, sawing off a length of fabric with the edge of his blade. He looked grim, but worked swiftly. “'Tis done,” he said, holding up the long piece of cloth in one hand. “How do you intend to free yourself?”

Moro'a took a deep, slow breath. “Right. I'll...push the tusk out from the base. You push it out from the sides of the head.” He grimaced at the tremor in his voice.

To Haurchefant's credit, the knight did not falter, but shifted around Moro’a till he was in position. “Very well, then.” A short pause, and then a glance. “The cloth?” Moro’a nodded, watching Haurchefant roll up the silk into a tight bundle before holding it out. He took it into his mouth – the gesture was strangely intimate, his thoughts remarked unhelpfully. 

“Are you ready?” Haurchefant asked as he placed his hands on either side of Mirka’s large head and braced himself. For a man larger than life on the regular, to hear him speak so quietly was...comforting. Moro'a ran through his training with Leveva, repeating the instructions for the spell he needed like a mantra; focus. He nodded.

They started slow, as slowly as they could manage, but Moro’a still threw his head back, screwing his eyes shut; the cloth subdued his voice, letting him cry out freely. The tusk had barely moved. Another push, harder this time, and his arms shook as his body screamed. 

Ilm by ilm, Haurchefant worked with him in tandem, careful to go only as far as he did. Despite the cold, Moro’a felt more than a trickle of sweat slide down his face. His tail whipped from side to side through the snow, and he yelled till his throat was hoarse. Gods, how much more of this could he take –

“You’re almost there! Hold on, Moro’a,” Haurchefant beseeched him. He couldn’t look; with one last burst of determination, he adjusted his hands around the tusk and pushed – and it was wrenched out from his body.

Heal, heal! Moro’a clasped his hands over the wound and cast Essential Dignity, shuddering violently as his flesh knit itself back together with inhuman speed. But the pain carried on – recovery debt, he realised too late as his vision went white. 

It was all he could do to curl up and wait desperately for it to subside. Agony became burning, before ebbing away into a throb. He felt formless and heavy.

“Moro’a…” A distant voice, so distraught he felt all but compelled to comfort them. He cracked one eye open and saw chainmail, red with blood – his or Mirka’s, he hadn’t a clue.

“Moro’a.” He could hear Haurchefant’s voice clearly now. The elezen had pulled him into his lap, one hand over his arm while the other cradled his head, careful to lay him on his side so he could breathe properly. 

He was too out of it to feel flustered, despite their close contact. Tilting his head as far as he could, he made out Haurchefant’s concerned expression. Menphina’s love, he was a wonderful sight to see.

“I’ll be alright,” he murmured, jaw sore and voice broken from overuse. They’d succeeded. Though he was too exhausted to truly feel it, he knew he would live.

An audible sigh of relief. “Can you move?” Moro’a shook his head. “Worry not,” Haurchefant assured him. With exceeding care, the knight wrapped his arms around Moro’a and got up slowly, carrying him with ease. “Rest. We shall have returned to Falcon’s Nest before you know it.”

[rosietrace]

🍵Emil Frisk 📲 Eikichi Azrail 👓Carol Azure ?

*Intense salute where I accidentally hit my forehead really hard* AGH-

Pixel Banners: @arcdiris

{ Apologies for any out of character moments }

{ Azure x Carol }

"Ah shit......."

Carol cursed as she saw the amount of dust on her glasses. She was supposed to be with Azure and go on one of their study dates, but alas her glasses just had to be annoyingly dirty.

Carol remained as calm as she could as she removed her glasses as she began walking to Azure's dorm room.

And then she ran into his room's door.

"AGH-" Carol groaned as she massaged her forehead after it made the impact.

The door opened, with Azure wearing his uniform with the scent of tea right behind him. Though her vision is slightly blurry, Carol was at least glad she's still able to see Azure in general.

"Hi Azure-" Carol chuckled awkwardly as she scratched the back of her head.

Azure chuckled, gently patting her in the head."Hello to you too, Carol." He kissed her forehead and they both went into the room.

Noticing that Carol wasn't wearing her glasses, Azure rose an eyebrow. Until he immediately noticed that Carol was hysterically attempting to wipe of the disgusting amounts of dirt on them.

"Uh- Carol?"

The latter looked at Azure.

"Yeah?"

Azure sighed as he took the glasses from Carol, kissed her on her cheek, and went to his dresser and opened one of the drawers. Revealing a... Bottle of what appears to be acid- ACID?!

Carol fucking ran to Azure as soon as she saw that bottle."Azure that won't be necessary-" She got cut off by Azure shushing her, and assuring her that her glasses won't disintegrate because of the acid.

"This isn't really acid, per-say, it's more of a concoction I created in order to clean my glasses quicker." He stated as he dropped two ounces of the liquid on both lenses of Carol's glasses.

Taking out a silk cloth, Azure gently cleaned Carol's glasses as the latter looked in astonishment.

Once the glasses were completely clean, with no speck of dust whatsoever, Azure put them back on Carol as he took her to his bed, with piles of references and formulas waiting to be studied.

"Well then Carol dear, shall we?"

Carol giggled as she followed Azure.

"Yeah, we shall."

{ Frisk x Emil }

Emil hummed as he entered Frisk's dorm, heartslabyul. He'll admit it's pretty, but it did somewhat annoy him by how unnecessarily chaotic everything was.

Hopefully Frisk didn't have any trouble dealing with this everyday.... , Emil pondered as Frisk walked up beside him with a tray of tea.

"Hi Emil!" Frisk greeted with an adorable smile. Emil smiled slightly, greeting her back with a slight bow.

"Ah- Right. Come on, I'll take you to a room with less.... Noise." Frisk chuckled awkwardly under her breath as she went up the whimsically long staircase. Emil could've sworn they moved up on their own-

When they reached a wall, Frisk knocked on the patterned wall in a specific way. 5 knocks, 3 pauses.

Unbeknownst to everyone in heartslabyul, the wall opened up to reveal a somewhat abandoned, but also clean lounge in the second floor.

As soon as both Frisk and Emil entered the room, the walls slammed shut. Thankfully, Frisk already had the lights in the room turned on.

"So this room is...?"

"Oh, well... I found this room during my first year by accident. It's embarrassing to admit, but I genuinely thought that wall was my bedroom door when I first opened it." Frisk stated with a shy smile. Emil saw that the tips of her ears were somewhat as red as her hair.

Emil hummed with a smile, nodding in response. Frisk's smile became less shy as she gave Emil his cup and poured some tea.

"Hopefully it's to your liking... I brought a thermostat and some tea bags if you don't like this one."

"I'm sure it'll be fine." Emil smiled slightly as he sipped the cup of tea before he spat it out. Leading to Frisk yelping from shock as she got a towel from her bag to wipe his face.

"A-Are you okay??" She asked, filled with worry as Emil coughed. The latter nodded in embarrassment as he was given the towel from Frisk to wipe his face.

"Y-Yes... I am. It seems it was rather foolish of me to not blow the tea before actually drinking it..." He admitted, covering his face with his hand as he refused to meet Frisk's gaze.

The latter giggled as they pat Emil's head.

"I'll make sure to remind you next time..."

{ Azrail x Eikichi }

Azrail was just peacefully napping after a long day of... Skipping most of his classes cause he was sick.

Ortho was kind enough to send in a robot to give him some soup that was mixed with a remedy that quickens the process of getting back to better health. But even then it didn't help with the fact that it tasted like shit.

Now, Az was just napping while hugging his pillow while a shadowy figure watched him with peaceful smile. A sign that meant they meant no harm to Azrail whatsoever.

And then Azrail's phone notification happened.

The figure yelped as they hid behind Azrail's sleeping form, trying to hide from the sound. Once the realization hit them that it was just his phone, they sighed in relief.

Damn it, you really need to get used to all this new technology.... , They thought as they poked Azrail to wake him up. When that had no success, they decided to do the one thing they could do... Whisper to him telepathically.

"Azrail.... Wake up..."

His eyes shot open from the sudden whisper as he accidentally fell from his bed. And it also resulted in him accidentally pressing the voicemail.

"AH- GODS FUCKING SHIT. WHY THE FUCKING HELL. YOU FUCKING DIPSHIT AZRAIL, ABSOLUTE DIPSHIT."

Yeah.... I'm very sure that spooked some Ignihyde residents. Or more.

Sighing, Azrail whispered random shit to calm himself down. Until he saw his phone and realized that what he said was recorded.

In a desperate attempt to not send that shit to Eikichi, Azrail's overly tired ass accidentally sent it.

Yeah.... It was really quiet in his room for a while.

"You fucking idiot, Azrail..." He muttered as he looked at his phone and sat in a proper sitting position.

{ I love this bitch: Eikichi

Sleep deprived homosexual ♥️: Azrail }

I love this bitch: So....

I love this bitch: Tf was that voicemail for??

Azrail chuckled a bit as he properly adjusted his glasses.

Sleep deprived homosexual: Nothing you need to worry about, Ei

I love this bitch: If you say so-

[atomic-taco-muffin]

The Legend of Hana Chapter 111

Warnings: Same warnings as last time 

Rating: SFW

“Where am I?” Sora asked as he looked around? He had no idea where he was, only that it was somewhere very bright and that he could hear water. It felt like the sky and sea spread out forever around him, but even that was uncertain. He didn’t know if what he saw was really a sea at all or just water. Water that stretched so far he couldn’t see the shore. There was a sun overhead, too, shining down. As Sora started walking, each step created a little splash. Suddenly, a voice spoke to him from somewhere. A voice that was high and unfamiliar. 

“Can't stay away, now, can you?” it asked.

“Hello?” Sora called. Two specks of light drifted down from above and released a bright flash as they landed in the water, revealing a little creature that looked like cat-shaped plushie and...

“Monomi?!” Sora exclaimed as he recognized the Hope Spirit’s guardian. 

“That’s right! And this is my friend, Chirithy,” Monomi replied.

“Hi there!” Chirithy waved. 

“I'm Sora. Where are we?” 

“We’re in the Final World,” Monomi said. 

“What's the...‘Final World’?” Chirithy seemed to have the answer. 

“There's nothing else beyond this. You've wandered here more than once before on your visits to the Station of Awakening, buuut...I let that slide. The edges of sleep and death touch, and one can't help the occasional crossover,” it said. But Sora latched onto one of the words.

“Wait, ‘death’?” he asked. 

“Yes. The natural end for those whose hearts and bodies perish together. But some persist, and arrive here,” Monomi said. 

“My heart and body perished? Um, does that mean...” Sora couldn’t make heads or tails of any of this, so he just said what came first to his mind. 

“Something is holding you here--refusing to let you go. You're hanging by a thread,” Chirithy said. 

“It could be Hana,” Monomi added. 

“Hana?! She’s alive?!” Sora exclaimed. 

“She’s fighting. But she needs you, Sora. She needs you to give her the strength to survive,” Chirithy said. Sora gasped and asked the question that was on his mind. 

“What about my friends?” he asked. 

“I'm afraid that no one else arrived with you. And if they're not here, they're either gone forever, or they're clinging to the world you came from,” Monomi said. 

“I'm going to find Hana and save her!” Sora said as he summoned his Keyblade. 

“Whoa, whoa! How exactly? You can't just wander out like your other visits,” Chirithy called to him as he started to run off. 

“What?” Sora stopped and looked back at the guardian and the little creature. 

“We told you. The other times you came here by your own choice. This time is very different. To become your old self again, save Hana, and return to the real world, you'll have to piece yourself back together in this world first,” Monomi explained. 

“Agh! Why am I in pieces?!” Sora exclaimed as he checked himself over frantically. 

“What? No, not literally, of course. You're conceptually in pieces. On the inside, who knows, but on the outside you're just fine,” Chirithy said. 

“Oh, okay. You kinda freaked me out there!” Sora sent his Keyblade away, sounding much more like himself.

“Oh boy...” Chirithy and Monomi sighed, but Sora didn’t seem to hear. Pulling themselves together, the guardian and the little creature looked back up at Sora. 

“Usually, only a heart can reach The Final World. But since you've clearly managed to retain some kind of form, that can only mean your body was cast into this world as well,” Monomi said. 

“Okay, so...then if I can find my body, that means I'll be able to save Hana and go back?” Sora asked. 

“Precisely. But there's a lot of you to find. You're going to be busy,” Chirithy said, then both Monomi and it disappeared in a bright flash. Sora looked up and saw himself off in the distance--quite a few of himself, in fact. He chased after one of them, and when he finally caught it, it turned into light and absorbed into his body. After catching several of the other Sora’s, he spotted a cluster of glowing crystals. They danced together in the nebulous form of a star, but they seemed ready to scatter at any moment. 

“Could these be a part of Hana?” He approached each of the stars but none of them seemed to be a part of her. Sora also noticed that his body was, bit by bit, beginning to feel more real again. He couldn’t quite see through himself anymore, either. He talked to a few more stars and barely a moment passed before a giant platform rose up beneath Sora, like a huge boulder made of solid ice. The mass was followed by more like it in sizes great and small, piling up in what came to resemble some sort of structure. Inside it were even more Soras than before. Some of the Soras flew, some sat upside down, while others dashed about willy-nilly. And during his pursuit, Sora bumped into another star. 

“Sora?” the star addressed him by his name. 

“Yes?” Sora replied. 

“It's me, Naminé.” 

“Naminé?” 

“I'm so glad that you managed to hold on to who you are.” 

“Why are you here?” 

“I was in Kairi's heart, but then we were struck by a powerful darkness...and I woke up here.” Naminé’s answer worried him. If Naminé had been inside Kairi and she was here now, did that mean...?

“And Kairi?” he asked. 

“I can feel her heart. She's fighting with all her strength to keep you from fading away,” the star-shaped Naminé said in a soft, gentle voice. 

“So, the reason I retained my form in this place...” 

“It's because she's holding you together. Go to her.” 

“I can’t. Not until I save Hana. But, what about you? I can't just leave you stuck here.” The star-shaped Naminé released a little sparkle of light. 

“It's okay. Really. Kairi is where I came from. So, once she's safe again, Kairi is where I'll return,” she said. 

“Naminé, I know that I'm supposed to thank you. The datascape doesn't count. I need to say the words myself. But...not like this. You and Roxas can't tell me you're okay with this. I know how much you're hurting. I... felt that pain through Roxas.” Naminé shimmered for a moment before speaking.

“He's the one they all miss. It's...not me,” she said. 

“Wrong. What about me, Kairi, Donald, Goofy? The King! Roxas too, he misses you! Even Roxy still misses you! And someone else special I know won't let you down.”

“Roxy...misses me? Sora. Thank you.” Sora took a step forward toward the many other Soras still off in the distance. 

“Well, then I'm gonna go save Kairi and Hana so at least you'll be free of this place. Okay?” he said. He was about to hurry off when Naminé called out to him. 

“Oh, wait!” she said. 

“Huh?” 

“While sifting through memories, I spoke to Terra, the Keyblade Wielder you've been looking for. He has a strong will, and it keeps him tethered to the realm of light. I'll try tracing that connection. Maybe that'll be enough to tip the scales in the other direction.” 

“Huh?” 

“Umm... Let's just say I've got your back?” Naminé’s tone suggested that she was smiling gently. 

“That part of you--it reminds me of Kairi. Thanks, Naminé. Oh! That's not the official thank-you!” 

“Uh-huh,” she twinkled, seemingly pleased by Sora’s words. 

“Well, see ya!” 

“Be careful.”

~le time skip~

Sora had found all of the pieces to himself and then, two lights drifted down toward him, lights he recognized. When the two lights touched the water, Chirithy and Monomi appeared in a flash. 

“I see that you found them all,” Monomi said. 

“Yup!” Sora exclaimed, striking a triumphant pose. But Chirithy’s reaction wasn’t so cheerful. 

“Then, isn't it time that you left?” it asked. 

“Oh, thanks,” Sora said, a bit miffed. 

“What? We’re doing you a big favor here, you know. Don't push it,” Monomi said, getting a little angry, but Sora didn’t let it get to him. 

“Hey, Chirithy. You still look like you, right? Would you like me to help you find your pieces?” he asked. 

“Oh, I don't work like that.” 

“So, like...you're waiting for someone to rescue you?” 

“Mmm...sort of?” 

“Well, tell me who! I'll find 'em.” Sora cupped a hand to his ear and leaned toward Chirithy, expecting a whispered answer. But Chirithy didn’t seem to want to share the name. 

“Uh, no no no no, that's okay. He doesn't remember the past. Besides, I'm sure that he's much happier with his new friends. But I'll wait. He'll arrive here one day,” it said. 

“Okay...I'll be back to visit you. Monomi, I’ll see you when you when Mukuro comes back.” 

“What?!” Chirithy yelped, taking a step back. 

“You and me are friends now.”

“That’s Sora for you!” Monomi commented. Chirithy glanced down for a second before meeting Sora’s gaze again. It seemed to be remembering something from long ago. 

“I've missed having friends,” it said.

“Well, see ya 'round! And thanks!” Sora turned and was about to leave when he paused for a moment. Monomi and Chirithy watched him curiously. “Umm... Could I get a hint how to save Hana and the others?” 

“Seriously?” Monomi seemed a tad exasperated. “Are you a Keyblade wielder, or aren't you? Haven't you already learned how to restore someone's heart after it's been lost?” 

“Restore their hearts? Is that the same thing as...the ‘power of waking’?” 

“I'm not sure, but...give it a shot?” 

“No.” Sora remembered what Hercules had said. “This'll take all my heart. Okay.” 

With a nod of determination, Sora took his Keyblade in both hands and pointed it at the water. The light formed a Keyhole that then grew into a kaleidoscopic magic symbol, from which light began flowing upward from it into the sky. 

“Look for the light in the darkness!” Chirithy shouted to Sora just as he leaped into the circle. The radiance swallowed Sora up, and then he was gone. 

“May your heart be your guiding key,” Monomi and Chirithy said softly as they gazed up after Sora. 

To be continued...

[kaitoujokerscans]

The Night the Silver Cape is Set Ablaze CH7

<7> Joker Breaks In!

Around the same time, another phantom thief — Joker — was hard at work on another caper. This particular caper was...

"Huuuh? A... recipe?" Hachi asked as a stiff breeze blew against his face. Joker, similarly buffeted by the wind, forced a smile as he answered.

"Yep, exactly! Sounds interesting, doesn't it?"

"But that's not important right nooooooooooooow!" Hachi said, screaming. They were falling rapidly. They were in the sky, several thousand meters above the ground. It was cold, and the air was extremely thin. Furthermore, the two of them were freefalling without any open parachutes. It was enough to make him envious of Hosshi, who was staying at home today. "W-What are we s-supposed to do here!?"

"We'll be fine. We've got this." Joker pointed out the thin layer of fabric between the arms and torso on the bodysuits they were wearing. "This is called a wingsuit. It's used to glide through the sky. We can land at our destination without attracting attention this way."

What Joker said reached Hachi's ears over the radio. But it was pitch black all around them, and the only things he could see were the city lights twinkling far below. The sheer terror got the better of him and he could hardly think straight. It was a far cry from how they usually flew with Balloon Gum. All Hachi knew at the moment was that they were headed somewhere Joker had sent an advance notice to.

"What's this recipe supposed to beeeeeee!?" Hachi yelled. Joker answered as he normally would.

"Hachi, you've heard of the soft drink called 'Riviera', yeah?"

"I-I know about it, but...!"

"The recipe for it is one of the world's best-kept secrets, and it's only known to a handful of people!"

"I-Is that so?"

Joker and Spade both love Riviera, the drink of choice enjoyed all over the world. It's served in restaurants everywhere and can be found in any vending machine. It tastes like a mix of sweet syrup and tangy tonic. It's excellent for chugging, and Hachi likes to drink it on occasion himself.

Hachi was quite the cook himself, but true enough, he had no idea what made Riviera taste like that.

"After all, if the recipe got out and suddenly anyone was able to make it, they wouldn't be able to sell their drinks, right? So only the top members of the company that makes Riviera know the ingredients and their ratios."

"T-That makes sense...!"

"Word is that the secret recipe is kept at the company's innermost level, strictly guarded in a safe."

"Joker-san, don't tell me the reason why you're trying to steal the recipe is because you just want to drink a limitless supply of Riviera?"

"Heh heh, it's a secret♪"

"That doesn't tell me anything!"

The duo continued to drop rapidly. Hachi took a glimpse down and saw right below — well, probably still a few hundred meters away — the lights from houses and tail lamps of cars driving on the road. The color drained from his face.

"All right, it's about time for us to start gliding. Spread your wings!"

"Okaaaaaaaay!"

Joker and Hachi unzipped their wings. While they were still falling at the same speed, suddenly they were zooming at an angle. It was like they were slipping down a playground slide. Their untethered bodies skimmed through the air like gliders, and a blast of wind hit Joker and Hachi's faces from the front this time.

"I see it! Over there!"

A large building blurred into sight. It was conspicuously distinct from the other structures around it. The whole building was curvilinear and shaped like a bottle. A bottle of Riviera, in fact. It was already nighttime, so there were no lights streaming out of the windows.

"We're gonna land on the bottlecap!"

Joker made it sound easy, but from where they were, it would've been like placing a speck of dust on the tip of a toothpick. If they weren't attentive and precise about it, they'd fall headlong into the ground instead. Even so, Joker didn't drop speed. Confidently, he plunged straight toward the Riviera bottlecap.

Joker had the courage to dive right into things without hesitation. Hachi admired that. It used to be that Hachi thought about every possible consequence and would often end up not doing anything at all because he was afraid of failing. But Joker typically took action as soon as he came up with a plan. He had once asked Joker about it before.

"Joker-san, how are you so brave?"

"Well, you never know what'll happen until you try, yeah?"

"But isn't that even scarier if you don't know how it'll turn out?"

"It's the other way around. There's only so much in the world that people can imagine. Most of what actually happens is stuff you never would have expected. So don't you think it's better to just do it?"

"You might have a point..."

"Master once told me that 'knowledge can't beat experience'. Which means that right now, I'm no match for Master. But if you flip your thinking, that means that if I get all kinds of experience, one day I'll be able to win against Master. If I'm too scared to try anything, I'll never be able to beat him," Joker said with a smile, and started writing the advance notice for his next target.

When he heard the reason why Joker had so much motivation and the things Silver Heart had taught him, Hachi felt like he understood. It was exactly because Joker didn't know what was going to happen next that he was always able to act immediately.

"Okay, we're almost there, Hachi!"

Joker's yell brought Hachi back to the present. The Riviera bottlecap roof was coming up to meet him. The rooftop seemed to function as a small heliport.

"Drop your speed on the count of one-two-three!"

"Roger!" Hachi acknowledged and gripped the cord on the side of the wing. He had been told that when he pulled it, he would slow down.

"All right, on your mark! One..."

Hachi tightened his grip on the cord and adjusted his timing.

"Two..."

Hachi was ready to pull on "three", but then Joker said:

"...and..."

"WHAT!? 'And'!?" In his surprise, Hachi pulled the cord on instinct. A tailored parachute billowed out and he slowed down dramatically. At that speed, he was going to drop down before he made it over the bottlecap.

"Oh shoot! Hachi!" Joker pulled his cord. Losing speed, he changed orientation so that he was now facing Hachi. He caught him in both arms.

"Joker-san!"

"We'll be fine! We should be able to make it, just barely!"

But Joker was just saying that to calm him down. The duo stalled in the air as they were almost to the bottlecap roof. Just out of reach, they slowly dropped down. Without anything supporting his weight, a chill ran down his spine.

"Agh, and we were so close, too~" Joker commented laxly. "That's the end of that. My Balloon Gum's in a pocket underneath my wingsuit..."

"Whaaaat!? Please, that's not funny!" Hachi exclaimed. He promptly pulled one of his ninja tools, a grappling hook, out of his pocket and tossed it up. The hook caught on the rooftop fence with a clank and the two of them stopped in midair.

"Whoa! Thanks, Hachi!"

The two of them climbed up the rope and finally made it onto the rooftop.

"What was that about!? You said to pull the cord on the count of one-two-three! What was 'one-two-and' supposed to be!? You didn't tell me there would be an 'and'!"

"Ha ha ha, it just looked like the timing wouldn't match up. But we had a pretty exciting experience thanks to that, don't you think?"

"That was an experience I didn't need to have!" Hachi exclaimed, squirming. It was important to do all sorts of things and gain experience. But there were some things that he really didn't need to experience. Hachi was sure of that now.

The duo ran silently over the empty rooftop and crouched down close to the entrance. Since Riviera HQ was home to the secret recipe, security was always strict. It didn't even overlook anyone coming from the sky. Flying in slowly would take too much time and was more likely to trigger the defense system. That was why Joker had opted for this method to get in rather than using Balloon Gum.

"Though it's strange that there aren't any security guards on the roof."

"Yeah, it might be a trap to lure us in. Sounds like fun. I'll take the bait."

Joker unlocked the door, entered, and quietly stepped into a dark stairwell. He took a look at the map on his phone and pulled up the route info. "The recipe is in the safe on the top level. Usually nobody goes on this floor. There are three obstacles standing between us and the safe."

"Three obstacles?"

Joker approached the door to the top floor. "The president of this company is a bit eccentric. The defense system's set up so that the safe won't open unless you solve three puzzles. If you can figure out the answer, then you can move on."

"Puzzles?"

"Yeah. So the obstacles are like a test for anyone who wants to open the safe," Joker said, and opened the door leading into the top floor. A long, dim corridor lay ahead. Joker and Hachi put on goggles that let them see infrared sensors and wriggled their way along. Soon enough, they reached a large door.

"All right, this is the first obstacle." Joker turned his gaze up to where a huge sign with a puzzle written on it was hanging on the door.

 [Question]

8            1            6

1            5            9

8            3            4

"Enter the number equal to the eight."

 There was a numerical keypad underneath the sign. They were probably supposed to input the correct number with it.

"So this is the puzzle..." Hachi looked at the numbers and tilted his head. "I wonder why these numbers are in such a random order? And it says 'equal to the eight', but there are nine numbers in all, so I don't get what it means by 'equal to'."

"You don't? The numbers aren't exactly random, either." Joker looked at the numbers and smiled a little.

"Joker-san, you figured it out already?"

"Of course I did."

 What does "equal to the eight" mean? Let's all think about it with Hachi!

Hint: Try adding the nine numbers up horizontally, vertically, and diagonally!

The correct answer is coming right up!

 "Hmm~ I don't get it at all!" Hachi put up his hands in resignation. He had given up.

"Yeesh, fine. This number arrangement is called a 'magic square'."

"A magic square?"

"Look closer. If you add up the three numbers in a horizontal, vertical, or diagonal line, they all come to the same sum."

"Huh? They do?" Hachi looked up and tried adding up the lines. 6+7+2=15, 8+1+6=15, 6+5+4=15... whichever direction he added them up in, they always came to the same total. "You're right! That's weird!"

"This magic square has 3 horizontals, 3 verticals, and 2 diagonals, which makes for 8 sums in all, right? Since they're all the same number..."

"Oh, I get it! 'Equal to the eight' is asking for the sum of the numbers, which is 15!"

"Right on!" Joker punched "15" into the keypad. The door unlocked with a clang. "Okay, let's go deeper in!"

Once they went through, the door closed behind them, and they came before the next door. There was another puzzle on this one. This was the second obstacle. The following was written on the sign.

 [Question]

Assume:

0 > 2

2 > 5

5 > 0

Given {2, 5, 5}, which one wins?

 Just like before, there was a numerical keypad underneath the sign.

"I don't get this one at all either..."

"It doesn't look like these arrow-like marks are supposed to mean that the left number is bigger. If they did, the first two expressions wouldn't be possible."

"That's true..."

"It asks 'which one wins', so maybe this mark just means that the number on the left is 'stronger'."

"Can a number be 'strong'?"

"Maybe these aren't numbers in the first place. Maybe they represent something else." Realizing something, Joker stroked his chin.

 Which one wins? Let's all think about it with Hachi!

Hint: Try counting on your fingers and see what it looks like.

The correct answer is coming right up!

 Hachi folded his arms, tilted his head, and stared at the question. It looked like he still didn't have a clue, so Joker gave him a friendly suggestion.

"Hachi, if you don't know, try counting on your fingers."

"On my fingers?"

"Yeah. Use your fingers to visualize the numbers. Try doing it with both hands, starting with the first expression."

After being told this, Hachi tried counting with his fingers. For 0, he balled up his fist into a rock-like shape, and for 2, he stuck out two fingers, forming scissors.

Wait. Rock... and scissors...?

"AAAAAAAH!" Hachi exclaimed. "I've got it, Joker-san! These numbers represent rock-paper-scissors!"

"Exactly. Now you know." Joker flashed a scissors sign.

"Yes! The numbers are the number of fingers sticking out. So 0 is rock, 2 is scissors, and 5 is paper."

"That's right. 0 wins against 2 because rock beats scissors. Likewise, when you have 3 against 5 — scissors and paper — scissors wins. And lastly, when you have 5 and 0..."

"5, which is paper, wins!"

"You see? Which brings us to the question written below. When you have 2 and 5 and 5..."

"It's scissors against paper and paper, so scissors wins! Which means 2 is the right answer!"

"Right on!" Joker said and punched "2" into the keypad. The door slowly opened. At the end of the hallway, they saw a massive door.

"Oh, that must be where the safe for the recipe is!"

"Yep. In order to get there, we'll have to clear the final obstacle."

The door leading to the safe was stout and didn't look like it could be broken through easily. This one, like the others, had a sign hanging from it with one last puzzle.

 [Question]

5            2            2            2

0            5            0            5

0            2            2            2

0            5            0            5

Push the button for the number that doesn't lose.

 Unlike the previous ones, there were buttons on the sign itself this time. This meant that one of the above numbers was correct, and when it was pressed, the door would open.

Hachi took a look at the numbers and tilted his head yet again. "Is this... rock-paper-scissors again?"

"Yep. It's only 0 and 2 and 5, just like before, so we can probably assume that's the case..."

"But I don't really understand this arrangement or what 'doesn't lose' means..."

"Hmm, maybe it's like the magic square we first encountered...?" Joker studied the numbers closely and brainstormed.

 Exactly which number is the one that "doesn't lose"?

Think about it in terms of both the "magic square" and "rock-paper-scissors" you saw before! Hint: you don't have to add up the numbers this time. Just think about it horizontally, vertically, and diagonally!

The correct answer is in the next chapter!

While Joker and Hachi were racking their brains over puzzles, Queen, Roko, and Purple were having tea at a late-night cafe. The train had arrived in town without further incident and they had the secret file in hand. Purple had some spare time before she had to turn the file over to an ally, so now she was going to talk about Noir over tea.

The three sat facing each other in the back corner of a small cafe. Purple leisurely began to speak. "Silver and Noir are complete opposites."

"Opposites?" Queen asked, taking a sip of her honey latte.

"You already know that Silver is a man as lively and bright as the sun. Everyone takes a liking to him. His roguish personality just captivates people. He has luck and natural ability. All of this made him an extremely talented spy. On the other hand, while Noir is also talented, he has to put in effort. He gathers all the intel he can before a mission, analyzes it with a cool head, and executes his plans without a single hitch. Noir goes in thoroughly prepared — that's his style. Noir stayed active even after Silver quit being a spy, and some people even call him the 'legendary spy' now..." Purple dunked a cookie in her black coffee and munched it. "But Noir has a grudge against Silver."

"Huh? Why?" Queen asked, confused. If they had gotten along as spies, there was no reason for him to hate the phantom thief Silver Heart.

"Well. Once Silver became a phantom thief, he started to get a lot flashier. He had always been a daredevil with an affinity for showing off. As ostentatious as his capers were, there were more than a few occasions where he failed spectacularly. Noir got tangled up in those spectacles quite often."

"Noir was involved with Grandpa's work?"

"It'd be more accurate to say that Silver always barged in when Noir was on covert infiltration missions and made a mess of everything."

"What...?" Queen and Roko's faces clouded over.

"The success of our spy operations hinges most of all on not being spotted. We infiltrate without alerting the enemy, do our work, and leave without attracting attention. The longer it takes them to notice that they've been breached, the more likely it is that the operation will be a success. In that sense, as soon as there's any uproar, the operation is a failure."

"Sounds like unforgiving work..."

"I can see why a spy wouldn't want their presence to be known, though," nodded Roko understandingly.

"Right. That's why Noir carries out his missions in secret, never letting anyone know he's there. But Silver Heart was completely different."

"Ah..." Queen realized something. "I get it. A phantom thief sneaks in, but not without anyone's knowledge. They send advance notice."

"Precisely. Phantom thieves boldly proclaim that they're breaking in, reveal themselves when everybody's looking, and steal the treasure dramatically while they're all in shock. Isn't that what Silver always says? He was always a showoff, so that suits him," said Purple. She exhaled and gave a shrug. "Besides, Silver tended to go after the treasure of money-grubbing crooks. Noir would receive a directive, plan everything down to the finest detail, and then once he got there, advance notice from Silver came in. What do you think would happen then?"

"The enemy would be on alert, and it'd make espionage that much harder..."

"That's exactly it. Silver was probably using the same network he had used as a spy to locate treasure. Silver threw a wrench in Noir's work on more occasions than he could count."

"That many times...?" Queen was surprised. Now she understood why Noir would be angry. But wouldn't Silver Heart have realized...? When she asked about it, Purple shook her head.

"...Unfortunately, Silver Heart is clueless about the whole thing. That's his greatest fault. Silver had no way of knowing that Noir was at work behind the scenes. Noir couldn't afford to have his mission be compromised, so he couldn't even say he was there. He had to give up, knowing that his mission had failed because of Silver..."

"So that's the story..." Now that she knew Noir's circumstances, Queen sympathized with him a little. Silver Heart's capers were indeed grandiose affairs and would definitely have interfered with any espionage going on. And since the man himself was completely oblivious and stole without a care in the world, she could understand why that behavior would incur wrath.

"I feel sorry for Noir..." Queen murmured. Purple snorted.

"Well, if you ask me, Noir's at fault too. Of course it'd annoy me to have someone get in the way of my job. But a real spy works around it. If a phantom thief appears and you take advantage of the confusion to accomplish your goals, you might be able to have an easier time of it. He could have even set it up to make his deeds look like Silver's handiwork. Noir just didn't exert himself."

"Oh, I see..."

"You've got high standards, Purple-san."

The pair voiced their respect for her.

"Oh, also, Grandpa is going after a treasure called the Lachla Crown. Apparently it's something he and Noir were looking for back when he was a spy..."

"The Lachla Crown? That explains it. You could say it ties Silver and Noir together."

"What do you mean?"

"Silver fell asleep, and because of that, the two of them weren't able to locate the hidden treasure. I remember Noir was really infuriated about it."

"Then when Noir learned that Grandpa was going after the Lachla Crown..."

"He quit being a spy and took matters into his own hands, it seems..."

"Huh? Noir quit his job?"

"Yes, just recently."

"Oh..." Queen pondered this. If Silver Heart targeting the Lachla Crown really had prompted him to quit being a spy...

Making up her mind, Queen stood up. Purple spoke to her.

"You're going? In that case..." Purple handed her a slip of paper. "Noir has been frequenting this place since he quit his job. I already looked into it."

"Thank you, Grandma." Queen took the note with gratitude.

"Don't mention it. Anyway, Queen, you were quite sensible back there. Would you be interested in doing some spy training under me?"

Then Queen answered with a little smile. "Thank you. It's not a bad offer, but I'll never be cold-blooded enough to be a spy."

"Ha ha ha, you really are Silver's disciple. And you're headstrong to boot. Just like me when I was younger."

Roko paled for a moment at this, but Purple gave a wink and smiled.

"Hee hee, thank you. Until next time, Purple-san!" Queen said. Then she and Roko ran off like the wind.

Several hours after their conversation...

Silver Heart was at a chic open-terrace cafe in Paris. The aroma of his espresso lifted his spirits. He took a hand mirror out of his pocket and fixed his appearance.

"Heheh. Hello, good-looking..." He couldn't stop grinning. Silver Heart was about to meet up with Her Majesty, the Queen of the Kingdom of Pandora for a date. She was busy with her official duties, but had a sliver of time available. The two of them had planned to take that opportunity to go on an incognito date. Her Majesty was going to escape the castle using Balloon Gum that Silver Heart had given her.

Just the words "incognito date" made Silver Heart giddy. "Heh heh heh, just like in Roman Holiday." Dropping the title of a vintage film in which a princess snuck out of her palace all alone and got to briefly enjoy the city of Rome, Silver Heart's already mellow expression melted entirely. If Queen saw how he looked now, she would probably slump down in disappointment.

But just then, his melted face hardened back up.

"..." Silver Heart's eyes were drawn to the coaster in front of him. He could see a small "N" written in the corner of the coaster.

This is... It was a familiar sign. It was how spies sent each other secret messages...

Silver Heart's mind flashed back to decades ago. He flipped over the coaster to see familiar letters that he had read often in the past.

 To my sworn enemy, Silver.

To have it out with you once and for all, I have crept out of the world of darkness.

I will steal your treasure.

 P.S. Your girlfriend isn't coming. She should be in the custody of the castle guards by now.

 "..."

Silver put the coaster down and took a breath. So Noir really does hate me... The sudden cancellation of his date with Her Majesty was a shock in and of itself, but not knowing the reason for this grudge left Silver feeling ill at ease.

What's the matter with him...? Silver Heart took another sip of his espresso, just as he heard a screeching voice come from the TV set up outside the cafe.

"This is your host, DJ Peacock! We've just received an advance notice from Phantom Thief Noir!"

"What...!?" Surprised, Silver Heart listened closely.

"I'll read Phantom Thief Noir's notice out loud. —Tonight, I'll steal the 'Lachla Crown' which Phantom Thief Silver Heart has targeted from the passenger ship Urban of the Sea. Phantom Thief Noir. —That's all! This is sure to be a heart-pounding and stimulating develop..."

Not even listening to the report till the end, Silver Heart got up. "..."

As Silver Heart faded into the bustle of Paris, he no longer had the same look in his eyes as when he was waiting for his date. His eyes were quietly ablaze, in a manner befitting the legendary phantom thief.

[the-beetle-and-the-shadow-offi]

Season one: Episode one: The Castlemaster

Felicity breathed in deep as she hit the sand, inhaling the salt breeze. It was nice to get away from her hectic family, even if she temporarily had traded them for a busy beach.

She set down her beach bag and stretched. She wasn't far away from Granveston Main Street, and with thirty bucks and four hours, Felicity was ready to enjoy her day.

Screaming interrupted her dash for the waves, and she slipped to a stop, ankle deep in the waters. At first, all she noticed was that people were screaming and running. Then she noticed the growing mound of sand behind them.

Felicity started to back away, thinking that she needed to get out of the area and help some other people, when the most horrifying thing about the sand monster revealed itself.

The monster, who was shaped like a young girl on a moving sand throne, raised a fist and launched a beam of sand at a running passerby, turning them into a sand sculpture. They were then washed away by the ocean.

Felicity took off running, her water shoes digging into the sand. She left the waterfront and rounded a corner, where she found a group of cowering people huddled in front of a building.

"Why don't you go inside?" She asked, out of breath and confused.

Someone pointed to the door. "It's abandoned, and locked."

Felicity walked over and checked the lock, then checked around. "I don't normally do this, but everyone stand back."

Felicity took a step back, then kicked the locked knob off the door with a jump. She rubbed the back of her heel as the group of people filtered inside.

"Well, that was an impressive use of destruction," a raspy voice said from behind her.

Felicity spun around, panicking. When she didn't see anything right away, she looked around in confusion.

"Come to the alley, slow poke!" The voice called.

Felicity hesitated. Then she proceeded with caution.

She wasn't expecting a floating cat holding a ring to be the one who'd been calling her.

<On the other side of the beach>

Diego Hart was not having a good day. First, his dad woke him up early on the last Saturday of the summer. Then, he was dragged out to the beach, where it was hot, scratchy, and all people did was scream and splash.

And then there was this monster thing.

That was unexpected, but also very inconvenient.

Or was it?

Diego had broken away from his family, equal parts intentionally and accidentally. He hadn't meant to separate, but when you get a chance to get away, well, he wasn't one to say no to fate.

Which put him here. Face to face with a large pinkish... bug? It was flying, so he guessed that was right, though he didn't see any wings.

"Hello, Chosen! I am Tikki, and I will be your Kwami and companion through this next stage of your life!"

"You're helping me get through my last two years of high school?" Diego asked, bewildered. "And what's with this 'Chosen' stuff? Being the chosen one never ends too well in books and movies."

The creature—the kwami—Tikki—blinked. "I chose you to wield my miraculous! The Miraculous of the Ladybug, of creation and healing!"

Diego scrunched his nose. "That sounds like a girl's power."

Tikki crossed her arms(fins???) and pouted. "There have been many male wielders of the Ladybug miraculous. You would be following a legacy, rich with creation and life, and it is not a 'girl's power'."

Diego shrugged. "Can I have an explanation for what exactly all this is?"

Tikki quickly explained the situation, the Miraculous, and his powers. She also told him he may have a partner.

"If Plagg found a suitable one, that is. The Black cat is a tricky one to hand out, and since we can't trust our Guardian.... Well, Plagg is in for some searching." Tikki turned back to him. "I was lucky to find you so quickly! Your use of the beach umbrella was very clever! I knew you were the one at that moment."

Diego felt his face heat up as he recalled the moment the kwami was speaking of. The monster, Castle Crasher, had almost caught up to him, so he had pulled a big beach umbrella out of the sand and used it as a shield. It wasn't something especially creative, but it had just made sense.

"That was just a use of resources," Diego attempted, but Tikki waved him off.

"We can't waste anymore time! Say 'spots on'!"

<With Felicity>

"Claws out?"

With a yelp and a flash of green light, Felicity was transformed into a black cat superheroine. As she examined her new look, she found that her hood covered all her hair, her mask covered all her recognizable features, and she could feel that she was more athletic than she already was.

"Wow," she breathed. A distant crashing brought her back to earth, and she slid her baton out from it's place on her thigh. Guided by a deep instinct, she swiped her thumb across the surface, and it opened like a slide phone.

Another swipe, and it closed. Her fingers found a button, and pushed it. She let out a yelp as it extended and speedily carried her upwards.

"S-stop!" she cried. The baton-staff thing stopped at her cry. She clung to the pole, trying to catch her breath, half wondering how the staff was balancing on it’s tiny surface.

The ground shook, and the staff fell forward. It hit a roof, and Felicity managed to roll forward on impact and get to her feet instantly.

“Woah.”

<Diego>

Diego skeptically examined the dark red magic fabric that now covered his arms.

“I guess it’s plenty tough,” he muttered. Then he pulled out his… weapon. “A yoyo…. I’ve never even touched one of these before… How does it work?”

He tentatively dropped the yoyo down and swung it back and forth a bit. As he got more comfortable with it, it felt more and more natural, and he executed more and more complicated maneuvers with the yoyo.

At the height of the activity, he threw the yoyo forward. When it wrapped around a building ornament and pulled him forward, he was jerked out of his reverie, and he realized just how absurd his situation was.

<Felicity>

Felicity looked up from trying to track down the villain to see a red and black speck in the sky. She narrowed her eyes to see it was getting bigger. It was only when she heard a voice yelling “I’ve been kidnapped by a yoyo!” did she think maybe she should move.

She came to her conclusion too late, unfortunately, and before she could make a move, she was crushed under a warm, red and black weight.

“AGH!”

She pushed against the weight, unable to get a good look thanks to her hood. “Is this some part of the akuma’s powers? Because it’s dumb. Stupid sky debris.”

“I’m not dumb!”

Felicity’s eyes widened at the sound of a fellow teenager. A male one, specifically. With a burst of strength she hadn’t possessed before, she kicked him off and jumped to her feet.

<Diego>

Diego clutched his stomach, reeling from not just one, but two sudden impacts in thirty seconds. He finally peeled apart his eyes to see the cause of the second impact, or rather, who had so forcefully kicked him off.

He got it, it was rude to lay on top of people, but he hadn’t meant to!

He looked her over. On the small end of the average spectrum, or the large side of the petite spectrum, wearing a black suit with a hood over her head, white, and very angry. Or scared. He wasn’t sure which.

“Is there a word for someone both angry and scared?” he wondered, only realizing too late that he’d said it out loud. “I mean--! Uh…. You must be the Black Cat! Tikki told me about… your kwami, I guess. Are we allowed to talk about the kwamis?”

The cat let her guard down, just a little bit. “Plagg didn’t say anything about it. He didn’t tell me about another wielder, though. Who are you?”

He mentally stopped in his tracks.

Don’t say Diego, don’t say Diego, don’t say Diego!

“I’d prefer to go by Escarabajo, if that’s okay.”

“Ah, I figured you were Latino.”

Diego pouted. “I thought I masked it well….”

The cat looked at him. “It’s… a work in progress, Escarabajo.” She turned as a rumble went through the building. “Focus on the akuma, we’ll talk later.”

She took off on her staff, and Diego—no, Escarabajo—followed.

<Felicity>

As long as no one asks me for a name, I’ll be perfect. If I’m given one, that’s different, but I won’t pick one for myself.

She stopped on top of a street lamp, marveling at the ease that she now balanced with. She scanned the streets, pointing out the street that had many sand figures.

“That’s where we need to go, Escarabajo.” She said, turning to see him hanging upside down, looking rather surprised by his new predicament.

He looked at her, his eyes wide. “I could be Spider-man….”

Felicity harrumphed and crossed her arms. “I’m no Mary Jane.”

<Diego>

In his haste to explain as quickly as possible that that wasn’t what he meant when he said that, he’d let go of the yoyo, and fell. Luckily he managed to land on his feet.

“Ow...” When he looked up again, the cat was offering a hand up, though she looked rather exasperated.

“Come on, you can play around later. Let’s deal with the sand castle monster.”

Escarabajo stood up and followed after her.

Following the sound of screaming and a trail of sandy figures, Escarabajo and the feline girl beside him soon caught up to the monster. The girl looked to him, and it slowly dawned on him that she was looking for him to direct her. He hastily thought out a plan and whispered it out to her.

“Can you sneak up on the monster? Tikki says there should be an object that, essentially, controls them and their powers. If we destroy it and capture the nasty butterfly--” Here he made a vague questioning noise before continuing “--We should be able to stop it. I’ll have to purify it. Haven’t quite figured out how.”

The Cat looked at him, her eyes narrowed. “Well, read your manual then. I’m gonna go find the object. I’d bet my tail it’s either the bucket or the shovel.” She leaped away, and Escarabajo nodded absently.

In light of her words, he took the yoyo off his belt, and thumbed it open. As if Tikki had overheard, which she probably had, the user’s manual was highlighted. As he skimmed over the most pertinent sections, he kept an eye on the Cat.

<Felicity>

Felicity snuck up on the villain just fine. She had quietly jumped from one building to the next, to a streetlamp, to the ground, all without any real noise.

The catch was when, despite her best efforts, she disturbed the very edge of the sand. And that alerted the akuma to her presence.

As the akuma stilled, Felicity attempted something she’d never done before but had full confidence she could pull off in the suit. She did a back flip on to a small billboard, and jumped behind it. She held her breath as the villain rumbled closer and closer. The villain missed her by a hair, and continued on it’s rampage.

Felicity kicked into gear. Plagg had said that because of her age, she could use her special power three times, and she knew exactly what to use it on.

She ran parallel to the villain before leaping forward. “Cataclysm!”

She broke the chains holding up a large sign, causing it to fall down and cut off the path the villain was taking. She repeated the process two more times, then dove out of the way, waiting for Escarabajo to do his thing.

She peeked up, and spotted the shovel and pail. She risked glancing behind the villain, and saw Escarabajo coming up behind. She crouched down farther, waiting for the right time.

<Diego>

Escarabajo had watched the Cat’s movements with awe. She was so fluid and confident looking. He noticed, of course, the tenseness she held whenever she was a misstep from being turned to a sand pile, but the grace with which she threaded around the villain was astounding.

Then Diego reminded himself that he was graceful, too. One of the most graceful in his gymnastics class.

“Yeah, it’s just another gym class,” he muttered before jumping into action.

He swung on his yoyo, catching up to the Cat. He saw her trap the villain on three sides, then dive for cover. He threw his yoyo in the air as he got closer, yelling, “Lucky Charm!”

He grabbed the tiny box out of midair and kept running. He glanced around the area, and spotted a few items he thought he could use. He quickly grabbed a red can and a fallen branch with his yoyo. He slipped behind an advertising sign, and took a moment to look at the box in his hand, just to double check.

Yep. Matches.

He poured the liquid over the stick in his hand, and threw both the stick and the box over to where the Cat was, keeping a few matches for himself. He hoisted the can up, then swung forward. As he swung behind the villain, he poured the liquid out of the can, creating a line of gasoline behind the villain.

Then he struck and dropped the matches he was holding.

<Felicity>

Felicity felt the air heat up, and knew she only had a short window. She struck the match, lit the branch, and jumped out of hiding. She swung the branch like a sword, cutting off the sand holding the shovel and pail.

She threw the pail to Escarabajo, and stomped on the shovel. Escarabajo threw his yoyo through the bucket, bursting straight through the bottom before pulling back.

Then he opened up his yoyo, and swung it at the black butterfly that left the broken bucket. The yoyo closed automatically over the insect, and Escarabjo brought it back to him.

He gently pushed the center dot on the yoyo.

<Diego> He watched the butterfly fly out, purified to a bright white. He speaks without even thinking.

“Bye, bye, little butterfly.”

Then he takes the empty matchbox that the Cat offers him, and throws it up into the air, yelling out the curing spell.

As magic ladybugs zip through the city, the Cat heroine walks up beside him, attentive and curious.

“So that’s how we avoid legal trouble. Nice.”

Escarabajo had to take that in, then he glanced at her. “I guess. It’s pretty and convenient.”

She snorted. “Well, was pretty decent working with you. See you around.” She made to leave, but Escarabajo shouted after her.

“Wait! What’s your name?”

She shrugged. “What do you want it to be?”

At his stunned expression, she turned around and leapt away.

Hearing the beeping coming from the studs attached to his wrists, Escarabajo followed her example, swinging up and running across rooftops before people came out to investigate. He made it to the beach and ducked behind the portable toilets before being blinded by pink light, and returning to his normal self.

Tikki flew out of the studs and into his hands. “You did a good job,” she whispered to him. “Now, I need someplace to hide.”

Diego offered her his beach bag.

Tikki hidden, and his Miraculous secured safely on a lanyard, Diego quickly returned to his family.

<Felicity>

Felicity whispered “Claws in” not too far from where she’d cried “Claws out”. Despite not being tired at all, she decided to go home. After all, she could only be gone for so long after something like that before her parents found out and flipped.

Plus she had to get ready for school on Monday, and that was gonna be a pain.

<Chapter Fin>

[emy-loves-you]

Constellations

Pairing: Logince

Word Count: 3,298

Summary:  Roman builds Logan a room that shows a perfect view of the night sky. He then tells Logan the stories behind the constellations. Logan POV.

Masterlist

“Hey, Specks! Whatcha reading?”

Logan didn’t bother looking up from his book, already knowing who was behind him. Even though they all had the same voice, his intonation and speech patterns made it easy to discern Roman from the others. He gave a simple response, knowing that the Creative Side wasn’t actually interested in the book itself, rather the broad topic that said book entails. “Astronomy.”

Roman chuckled, sitting on the couch next to Logan. Logan huffed when the Prince propped his legs up on Logan’s lap but he didn’t say anything, just shifting so his arms rested on Roman’s calves. “Why are you reading about stars when you can go see them at any time in the Imagination?”

Logan shrugged, flipping to the next page. “I have never been fond of the Imagination. Logic has very little power there, less than that of most creatures that dwell there.” He traced the diagram of Taurus with his finger. “Besides, I much prefer the cleanliness of a couch or a bed.”

Roman didn’t say anything, but Logan assumed from the brief shifting that he had shrugged. They sat in comfortable silence for several minutes before Roman jumped off the couch, nearly kicking Logan in the face. He made it halfway across the room before realizing what he did. The Creative Side turned to face Logan, his cheeks a beautiful interesting shade of red as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Apologies, I just realized I… have to do a thing! For Thomas!”

Logan tilted his head, curious. “A thing for Thomas?” There wasn’t anything scheduled for Roman to work on, unless it was a project that Thomas wasn’t consciously aware of.

Roman chuckled, awkwardly shuffling backwards. “Yeah, it’s really important so… I’ll be going now. See ya Nerdy Wolverine!” He quickly left the room, apparently forgetting in his haste that he could’ve just sunk out. Logan shrugged, ignoring his observations. This wasn’t the first time that Roman acted odd about a project, and there was a high uncertainty of this being the final instance of such an occurrence. Logan was curious about what said project was, but he would most likely find out at a later date.

With that, Logan flipped the page, ready to read more about space and the many fascinating things within it.

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

Logan nearly forgot about the incident, only remembering it when Roman didn’t attend dinner. When Logan mentioned it, Patton simply giggled. “Ro said that he had a super-secret project to work on. I’m sure he’ll show you when he’s done!”

Logan nodded, finishing his meal before standing. “The food was delectable as always, Patton. Have you sent any up to Roman yet?”

The Moral Side shook his head. “He said he would come down and eat when he was ready.”

Logan sighed, preparing a plate for the Creative Side. “Roman always forgets to eat when he’s working on a project. He also left before lunchtime, so I assume he hasn’t eaten since breakfast.” He swiftly put away the dishes he used before turning back to the two sides, Roman’s plate still in hand. “I’ll go send this to Roman before going to bed. I’ll see the two of you in the morning. And Virgil, I would appreciate your assistance in going over Thomas’ schedule tomorrow at the earliest convenience.”

Logan quickly sunk out of the room without waiting for a response, rising up in the hallway. He knew that his actions could be read as cold and uncaring, but Logan knew that the others understood his struggles to be verbally or physically affectionate. He went to knock on Roman’s room but paused. Roman’s room was normally next to Logan’s room, but now there was another door between them. Logan studied the door curiously. Everyone’s doors were decorated to match them, so it was easy to tell the rooms apart. This door didn’t match a specific side, however. It was an off-white, almost cream color with navy and gold stars. Logan tilted his head, confused. Was this the project that Roman was working on? The majority of Roman’s projects could be created in either his room or the Imagination. So why did he need an entire room to complete the project? Was the room itself his project?

“Logan?”

When asked about it, Logan will deny the embarrassingly high-pitched squeak that left his lips when Roman rose up beside him. He will also deny how he jumped and almost spilled Roman’s food all over himself.

Roman quickly grabbed the plate, staring at Logan with wide eyes. “Sorry, Specks! I thought I felt you summoning me.”

Logan kept his face carefully blank, but he was frowning internally. Did he subconsciously summon Roman while he was analyzing the door? He needed to be more careful in the future. Logan cleared his throat while he straightened his tie. “Yes, I came to bring you dinner. I doubt you’ve eaten since breakfast.”

Roman looked startled as he looked at the plate. “I didn’t realize I’d been working for so long…” His eyes wandered to the door before snapping back to Logan. “Thank you, Calculator Watch! I assure you, it won’t happen again!”

Logan chuckled, smiling fondly. “You say that every time I bring you dinner.”

Roman blushed, most likely from embarrassment (but didn’t the blush start to form before he started talking?). He cleared his throat “Yes, well um… you see…”

Logan chuckled again, and Roman fell silent. “Roman, it’s okay. I completely understand what it’s like to be absorbed in your work. If I didn’t follow my schedule down to the letter, I’d probably be in a similar position. I just wish you’d take better care of yourself.” He looked back at the door, not noticing how Roman’s blush returned with vigor. “What are you working on, if I may ask? Normally you complete your projects in your room or the Imagination. Why do you need a spare room?”

Roman chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “The room… is my project, so to speak. I can’t say much about it, ‘cause it’s a surprise, but...”

Logan nodded. “I understand.” It was probably a gift for Patton or Virgil. Logan didn’t quite understand why the realization made his chest feel so tight. He turned to go back to his room, hoping that the tightness would go away once he laid down.

“Wait!” Logan turned back to face Roman. His hand was stretched out, not quite touching Logan’s. “I was- um, I was wondering…” He groaned, hanging his head low. “Words are hard.”

Logan smiled softly. A part of him chuckled at the irony, the Side that normally spoke in such a flowery speech pattern struggling to find the right words to say. Another part of him still felt odd, his chest too tight and his stomach twisting uncomfortably. But the largest part of him felt so… warm, just watching him. It was like the warmth of a weighted blanket after a long day of working. It confused him, having never felt this way towards the other sides or anything in general besides Roman. He figuratively shook away the thought, blaming it on the Creative Side’s eccentrics. “Take your time, Roman.”

Roman smiled gratefully before trying again, wringing his hands together. “The room should be finished by tomorrow night. Can-would- agh, curse the English language!” He pointed at the door, a desperate look in his eye. “You, me, tomorrow night? Please?”

Logan smiled. “I’ll come by after dinner. Does that sound acceptable?” Roman nodded, smiling. Logan turned around, ignoring the heat in his cheeks from Roman’s smile. “I look forward to seeing what you’ve created. Goodnight, Roman.” He quickly sank out, rising up in his bedroom.

Logan simply stood there for several minutes, waiting for his cheeks to cool and his heart to slow down. He didn’t understand how such a simple conversation could make his heart rate so irregular. He tried to recollect any similar experiences from Thomas’ memories, but the only instances that came to mind were during dates or other events with his previous partners. But it wasn’t like this was a date! He was simply planning on visiting Roman tomorrow to review his newest project. There was nothing romantic about that!

Besides, Logan thought bitterly as he layed in bed, Roman most likely wants me to review the room before he shows it to whoever it is intended for. Even if I saw it as a romantic encounter, he wouldn’t feel the same way.

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Logan arrived at the new door approximately 15 minutes after dinner ended the next day. He wiped his palms on his jeans, frowning at how damp they were. I thought I dried my hands thoroughly after I washed them. He dispelled the thought before knocking on the door.

Roman stepped out of the room, smiling. His hair was sticking up in several directions, and Logan resisted the urge to run his hand through it. “Hey, Calculator Watch. Ready to see the surprise?” Logan cleared his throat and nodded. “Alright, there’s a bed that’s…” he flicked his wrist and red measuring tape appeared, leading into the room. “...7 feet and 4 inches from the door. Just lay on it and I’ll set everything up.”

Logan smiled at Roman’s consideration. Logan always preferred exact numbers (in this case distance) over ‘eyeballing it,’ so he appreciated Roman giving him a distance to work with. Roman opened the door slightly and Logan stepped inside. The room was pitch black, even with the door wide open. He turned around to ask, but Roman beat him to it. “The room’s designed to not let any excess light in.”

He nodded before belatedly realizing that Roman probably couldn’t see it. “Ah, that makes sense.” He blushed at his lackluster response, quickly moving towards the bed. He walked approximately seven feet before he heard the door shut. Logan reached his hand out until he felt the cool sheets underneath his fingers. He quickly sat down on the bed, biting back a sigh at how soft it was.

He heard Roman shuffle towards the bed before he chuckled. “You know, it would be easier to view the surprise if you laid down.” Logan blushed before nodding, forgetting again that Roman probably couldn’t see it. He toed off his shoes and shuffled until he was approximately in the middle of the bed, laying his head on the soft pillows. The bed was quite large, and Logan was sure that he could lay horizontally and not be anywhere near the edge. He heard Roman chuckle again. “Are you ready?”

Logan swallowed thickly, his heart rate accelerating for no apparent reason. “Yes.”

Click

Logan gasped audibly as stars filled his entire vision. It was as if he was sitting within a planetarium, constellations dancing across the ceiling and walls in a beautiful myriad of light. He subconsciously held his hand out as if reaching to touch the impossibly far away stars. It was so beautiful, perfectly capturing everything Logan loved about the many stars he had only seen in stars and Thomas’ memories.

Logan turned to face Roman, tears in his eyes. The Creative Side was carefully observing him, and he visibly panicked at the tears before Logan spoke. “They’re beautiful.” Roman reached out, wiping away the tears that had fallen down his face. Logan then noticed that he was still standing, awkwardly bending to reach Logan. “Join me please.” Roman gave an uncertain look before nodding. He carefully took off his boots before crawling onto the bed, lying approximately a foot away from Logan. Logan smiled, looking up at the stars. “This is a wonderful room, Roman.”

Roman chuckled. “I’m glad you think so. It’s for you, after all.” Logan turned to look at Roman, who suddenly looked away from where he had been staring at Logan. Logan watched the blush crawl down Roman’s neck as he spoke. “You said you didn’t use the night sky in the Imagination because it was too dangerous and dirty, so I thought ‘why not bring the night sky to you?’ So I built this bedroom for you to use whenever you wanna see the stars.”

Logan smiled brightly, turning back to the stars. “Thank you, Roman. I greatly appreciate this.” He felt the weird twisting feeling in his insides finally relax, armed with the knowledge that this room was for him, not Virgil or Patton.

They laid there for a few minutes before Roman spoke up. “Did you know that the constellations have stories behind them?” Logan shook his head. Roman chuckled. “That makes sense. The stuff you read in your books probably sticks towards astronomy, not astrology.” He pointed at the ceiling and the stars lost their intensity, a single constellation retaining it’s brightness. Logan immediately recognized it as Draco. “The Dragon constellation is said to represent Ladon, the dragon that guarded the tree that produced golden apples for the goddess Hera. Hercules was sent to kill Ladon and retrieve some of the fruit for King Eurystheus as his eleventh labor. In a popular version of the story Hercules slays Ladon with a poisoned arrow.”

Logan watched, completely entranced as the constellation shifted. It was no longer just a familiar pattern of dots on a piece of paper. It was a living, breathing dragon, soaring across the night sky. It was elegant and graceful and alive, and it enchanted the Logical Side in a way that left him breathless. He blindly reached for something to hold, nearly crying with relief when the Creative Side’s hand slipped into his own. He held onto it for dear life, shifting closer to Roman as he stared at the Dragon constellation. Normally these things wouldn’t affect him this much, so why was it doing so now?

Maybe the room itself is triggering such a response. But then said response should have started the moment Logan walked into the room. Is the new information making me feel this way? While it was possible, it wasn’t probably. Logan did tend to express positive emotions when learning new information, especially about space. But the feelings were never this intense. So why was he feeling so much?

Perhaps it’s because of who’s teaching you the information, and who’s holding your hand right now. Logan ignored the thought, squeezing Roman’s hand and blushing when he squeezed back.

Logan looked up at the ceiling, curious. “Roman, do you have a favorite constellation?”

Roman’s hand stiffened for a moment before he spoke. “Do you?”

Logan frowned, studying the stars. “I thought I did, but it seems that my knowledge on them is… lacking, to say the least.” He squeezed Roman’s hand. “Besides, I wouldn’t be surprised if you have a favorite story.”

Roman chuckled, his thumb shifting to rub small circles into Logan’s knuckles. “Am I that predictable?”

Logan smiled softly, blushing lightly. “Yes, but that’s a good thing. I… like predictable. It’s… less scary. Easier to understand.” It’s why I love you. He turned to face Roman, smirking slightly. “Now, I believe you avoided the question. Do you have a favorite constellation?”

Roman stared for a moment before smiling, pointing at the ceiling again. The dragon faded into the background, lost within the rest of the night sky as more stars appeared. “I have two favorites, actually.”

Logan looked at the stars for a moment, puzzled. “Canis Major and Vulpecula?”

The constellations started shifting as Roman spoke. “The Big Dog and the Teumessian Fox. The Big Dog represents Laelaps, Orion’s chief hunting dog. Laelaps was such an amazing hunter that he could catch any prey he pursued. One day he was sent to chase Teumessian Fox, the fox that could never be caught. The dog and the fox were placed within the sky to chase each other for all of eternity.”

Logan stared at the constellations as they shifted. The dog was large and powerful, pride oozing from his stance. The fox was angular yet graceful, swishing his tail at the dog in a playful manner. The dog immediately took chase, leaping towards the fox. The fox cheerfully stepped to the side, avoiding the dog by just a hair. The movements were beautiful and graceful, and even though the animals were chasing each other, it was apparent that there was no real animosity between them. (Or maybe that was just Logan projecting onto the constellations, seeing himself as the fox and Roman as the dog.)

There was a comfortable silence between them before Logan spoke up. “Why do you think they chase each other?”

Roman hummed at the question. “Because Laelaps was assigned to chase the fox.”

Logan huffed, rolling onto his side to fully face Roman. “I know that, but why are they still chasing each other? They no longer share any animosity, and they are no longer required to be against each other.” He squeezed Roman’s hand, trying to convey what his pride wouldn’t let him say. “So why do they continue their game? Why do they chase each other for hours on end? Why does the fox continue to chase the dog? Why does the dog continue to pounce at the fox? Why the scathing remarks and teasing nicknames? Why are they continuing their game when they’re not required to?”

Roman stared deep into Logan’s eyes, seemingly searching for something. “Maybe… the dog enjoys their game.” He sat up, and Logan followed. “Maybe the dog doesn’t actually want to catch the fox. Maybe he only shows his teeth because he’s scared to show weakness in front of the fox. Maybe he just wants to chase the fox forever, if only so that he can spend his eternity with the only one who truly understands him.”

Logan swallowed thickly, trying to compose his thoughts. “Maybe the fox feels the same.” He lowered his gaze, unable to look Roman in the eye. “Maybe he swishes his tail and teases the dog in a desperate attempt to keep him interested. Maybe he slows down when he sees that the dog’s tired, just to keep the game going a little longer. Maybe he wants the dog to catch him, to hold him and-” love him “and care about him. And maybe he’s too scared that the dog will hurt him to slow down. And maybe he’s too prideful to say it out loud.” He leaned forward slightly, his gaze still lowered as he placed his hands on Roman’s shoulders. “But maybe the fox is tired of running. Running from his problems. Running from the dog. Running from lo-” He felt his throat constrict and his chest tighten as the word died in his throat. He tried again. “Running from lo-”

A hand cupped Logan’s cheek, wiping away the tears that he didn’t know were there. “Shhh, I understand.” Roman’s face was incredibly close now, but it wasn’t uncomfortable in the slightest. Logan felt his breath catch as he inched closer, his lips brushing against Roman’s for just a second before he stopped himself. He pulled away ready to apologize-

Roman’s lips crashed against his own, his hand moving to cup the back of Logan’s neck. Everything felt like it was on fire, swirling around his insides in an intense inferno of feelings. Logan tried to convey all that he could into the kiss. Desperation, relief, passion, uncertainty, love.

When they finally pulled away, both sides were left panting. Roman had a goofy grin on his face, and Logan was sure that his own smile was just as bright. They sat there for several minutes, just grinning like fools. And maybe Logan was a fool, if only for not realizing that Roman would chase him to the ends of the Earth. And Logan would always be there to run a few steps ahead.

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Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @arodynamic-enby @sanderssides-angst

[werezmastarbucks]

v i o l e n c e

believe it or not, two (2) people asked me for the second part of c a r e, so there you go. I’ve no idea if I can manage the third part, so no strings attached, yeah?

Kai’s feeling much better now.

words: 2793

music: blink-182 - long lost feeling, pantera - heresy, cemetery gates

You sat with your eyes closed as the best part of the song came in. It made you think of… things.

say goodbye until it hurts

stormy skies and foreworks

You mouthed words quietly, feeling the sun on your face, and even by the warmth of it you could tell it was closing to evening. Suddenly, a gut feeling pulled on your string, told you, open your eyes! And you did.

Kai was sitting on his bed, examining you curiously, and music was still playing.

“Why am I wearing your airpods?” he screamed suddenly, and you jumped, immediately annoyed.

“Take them off”, you tried.

“I can’t hear you!” he yelled over the music in his ears, “I’m in your airpods!”

He tried to get out of bed, and you sprang up, all your muscles tense in a blink of an eye, like the rubber ties.

You walked to him, causing Kai to lift his dark eyes watching you like a lamb.

Don’t give me that look, you thought grumpily.

You took out your airpods and put them in the case, keeping your hand on his shoulder to prevent the witch from standing up and racing away through the window on his imaginary broom.

“Lay back”.

“Agh”, Kai winced. He laid his palm on his stomach, falling back on the pillow. You couldn’t tell if he was faking or not.

“I can’t believe Olivia nearly killed me”, he uttered, squinting his eyes and then focusing on you again.

“Really? You can’t believe it?” you asked, disinterested, but impressed on the inside, and took your phone to call Damon.

“She’s my sister”, he said miserably. You exchanged long looks. Kai’s pupils were huge like black lakes, liquid, and the orange rays of sun were crawling to his ear up his pillow. It felt like the light was haunting him, trying to conquer him, but he moved, attempting to escape the inevitable.

“You’re funny”, you finally said. You were sat on his bed, securing him on the pillow, “you’re a funny man”.

Malachai sighed heavily and rested his hand on the blanket. He looked a bit pale.

“Can you… can I get a glass of water? I’m thirsty”.

He was a fox. His voice, like silk, when he wanted something, could drill inside a brain and infect it. There was almost sweetness in that craze job’s demeanor when he was at disadvantage. When he knew he needed someone.

You stood up, put your phone in your back pocket and walked to the water cooler. You looked out in the window and then turned your head back to watch Kai. Of course he could be all whiney and hurt, laying there nursing his huge scar, gutted and bled out. But you’d be damned if you believed for one second that little shit didn’t have something on his brewing mind. He watched you back from the pillow, his eyes like two coals, silent. You brought the cup back to him, and he attempted to sit again, acting like it hurt him more than you could imagine, regardless of the fact that he’d already got up earlier. As he posed himself in bed, he took the cup from your hand.

“Thanks”.

In a split second you knew something was going on. It wasn’t the look he hooked you on, it was the water flying in your face. You shirt was wet as he threw the cup away, and grabbed you by the hand. You tried to get up, but his grasp was strong, and immediately, he started chanting. You bent your knees, trying to slither from bed. Kai’s fingers crawled up to your elbow and dug into your skin in a bulldog-like manner. It seemed like there was no escape from him. Before you knew it, incredible feeling of infirmity washed over you, and your brain cried emergency. You kicked, shrugged, trying to get away, and nothing worked. Your limbs stopped complying with you, warm sun turning into burning density in the room. Everything was swaying, the room started spinning as Kai’s voice was getting louder and louder. There was uneven pain in your chest, burning between your ribs, headache – all you could think of. Every part of your body went in overrun, and the bones felt like cracking, while your lungs deflated, and only sucked the air slowly, unwillingly. You couldn’t even feel his grasp anymore, as every inch of your skin burnt, but above all, there was that paralyzing faintness that turned a human into a toy. Apparently, you slid down onto the floor, and he lifted you up and put you back into bed.

Bleakness of the room was pierced by random specks of sunlight like glistening particles of dust. Even your mind was on hault because you couldn’t feel angry. Somewhere far away your own voice sounded like a fain echo, saying, asshole, but you didn’t get the whole idea. The only thing you could feel was that you were dying.

Malachai’s face appeared in front of yours, and his lips weren’t moving with his words,

“I’m sorry, it’s nothing personal. I can’t go on with the wound like that…”

He left. There were steps, and then a blunt thump.

“Ah, shit”.

He tried to leave the room and bumped into the invisible barrier Bonnie had set up. This one was smart, the source of magic in a bell, not more than a trinket she found in her house. The type of thing was irrelevant, it could be a bar of chocolate for all they knew. But the bell wasn’t here, so the barrier couldn’t be siphoned. Kai was restricted by it, but couldn’t reach it, and he couldn’t suck it out of the air. Every time he’d do it, the bell, somewhere in the town, would restore the barrier again, and again.

“Smart”, he grumbled. You realized you were now stuck here with him, dying, helpless, unable to move your fingers. Just like him, you were now locked inside, only your head working half-properly, while your body was slowly decaying. You had no idea what he’s done to you. But seeing – or, rather, feeling him walk around, said that he sucked all the life force out of you, repaired himself and left you to die.

Heartless. But then again, it’s Parker. What did you expect?

Your eyes felt full of sand, but you were struggling to keep them open. You didn’t notice the second he returned to the bed. All of a sudden his hand was sliding around your waist, and your inner voice became a bit stronger out of terror.

He’s touching me.

You were turning into a doll, unable to move, your limbs itchy and out of control. Only a part of your mind was intact which was painfully similar to what happens when you get a fever. Well, that was one nasty infection lingering above you.

Kai pulled your phone from your pocket and then lifted your palm, pressing your finger to the button to unblock it.

“That’s cool”, he mumbled to himself. The bed just next to you sank as he sat closer. Your sight started to return, but your body refused to work. You started seeing the outline of Kai, humped over your iPhone, frowning like he was real busy with something extra responsible.

He shot you a glance, and his eyes smiled. You felt like an insect prepped against the glass. He lifted your phone to his ear without taking his eyes off you.

“Good day, Diamond”, he smiled, “I’m up. Wanna come and let me out?”

You couldn’t hear what Damon was saying. You could just watch him and wait. You tried to force the muscles of your legs to work, to push him off the bed, but all the systems were shut down. It didn’t hear you. You wondered if he took too much, and you were really going to die. What a wheel of fortune, with you two, the comical irony in which one of you is laying bleeding out life, and it’s the other one’s choice to let you go or spare you. You tried to tell him that you weren’t afraid of him; that he was an A-class douchebag. Suddenly you realized he was already completely dressed. When did he have time to dress up?

“Oh, Y/N, she’s here. She’s dying. You know, the stab wound was so big, it kinda sucked, so Y/N kindly offered to help out… she’s so full of energy. Well, was”.

Silence again. He gave out the baddest smirk and looked away.

“Uh-huh. Scary”, his voice was completely calm, “well, imagine the kinds of things I can do to her while you’re running around fuming. Bring the source of magic, and let me out, buddy”.

He hung up and sighed.

“Stuck again…” Kai said slowly, after a pause.

“You guys know it hurts me, right? I kind of have a PTSD after being locked away, and now this, again…” he clicked his tongue, “not nice”.

He reached for the case with your airpods and opened it. You rolled your eyes away, testing what you see. The room was returning, all the things in it in their places. He put one of the airpods in your right ear.

“Is that left or right? Right”, he sank into your phone again.

“You know… when I was young, I loved Pantera. Have you heard about them? You don’t have any songs…”

You were drifting in the air, your limbs intact but silent. The warmth of this bastard’s body next to you was the only thing you felt except eternal feebleness and pain. No wonder he was a Gemini, dual in all things.

“Check this album out. That was one of the last ones I got to listen to before I got to prison. It’s one of their best works”.

Loud music banged into your ear; that insane jerk put the volume on maximum listening to a metal band.

“This is Heresy, a great song”, Kai promised. His face was lit with a dreamy smile. When the full drums came in, pain pierced your brain. Torture! He was torturing you. Knocked you out, made you absolutely harmless, and then went on physically abusing you. Pantera was fine. The volume was deafening. His head started rocking back and forth slowly.

“Everybody was going crazy when I listened to them in my room. I like it loud”.

One song went, then another.

Reverend, reverend, is this some conspiracy?

Crucified for no sins…

You were blinking slowly, as your consciousness was fighting to return.

“Oh!” Kai turned to you with a swing and slapped you on your lap. An eerie wave of cyan pain rolled all the way down your body, and it got dark for a second. You swam out of the twilight to hear him say,

“…actually, when I was, like, twenty one. I was in California with my ex-girlfriend. And we went to this underground show and met them. They were just a sad act back then, very fresh beginners, you know. Very bunt punk-rock, no melody, no nothing. They were playing with Scott Raynor and he was so-o-o unimaginative, you know? After the show I met with Tom and Mark and told them, you guys, you’re gonna go far, because you got the spirit. But you gotta lose this drummer. And then, like next year, I go to prison. That sucked. And when I got out, they were big! How cool is that? Is that cool or sad? But, I mean, first of all, it’s unfair, because you can actually say that Blink owes everything to me…”

You were losing concentration over the music and his voice drilling your brain at the same time. The room was getting more and more even, and suddenly, there was a light stinging in your left arm. You tried to move it – and your fingers retracted. You made you hand crawl on the sheets and touch his hip.

Kai looked at your hand with outmost curiosity, like it was a bug he’d never seen before.

Then he looked back at you with compassion.

“Wow, he’s not in a hurry to save you, is he? You’ve got cool friends”.

You opened your mouth, your lips parting lazily, and the air flew out of your throat.

“What?”

You tried again, anger boiling in you. With it, there came joy, because your mind was clearer and clearer with every Pantera song that swept through your decomposing eardrums.

“Try again”, he advised. You sucked the air through your teeth.

“Motherfucker”, you whispered.

Malachai frowned and bit his lower lip, looking at you, puzzled.

I’m going to kill you, you mouthed, but he ignored you.

“Should I call him again?..”

Just as he said it, you both heard steps outside the room. At that time exactly you wondered why nobody came to check on him, and didn’t even look inside. What would he do to the doctors if they discovered you half-dead in his bed?

Kai sat himself even deeper next to you, lifting one leg and pulling it to himself, as Damon appeared in the doorframe.

He couldn’t come in as long as the barrier was holding, because he wouldn’t be able to leave again. The plan had been that you’d jump out in case something goes south with Kai when he wakes up. He was hurt, and he didn’t have vampire speed, that’s what you hoped for.

“Did you bring it?” Kai asked immediately. Damon looked inside, puffed like a handsome hedgehog.

“Y/N”.

“She’s here”, the witch took your arm and waved it like you were a corpse.

“Leave her”.

Kai sighed, and his cheekbones cut under his skin which said he was losing patience. You looked at his perfectly pointed nose, a work of art in terms of shape. No wonder the guy was a complete narcissist, unbearable in self-admiration. Even lying there at his very unlikely mercy, you could still admit he had good genes. That didn’t help the fact you desired to peel his skin off.

Kai put up your phone above your face thin edge down, and Damon grabbed on the doorframe.

“Give me the damn thing, or I’m killing her. Did you see her neck? You think one hit is enough to break it? I bet it is”.

You looked at his wrist and how steady his hand was.

“Get away from her”.

“I’m killing her…”

Your blood boiled. You reached for his elbow, pulling on the sleeve of his hoodie with weak fingers, but he didn’t seem to notice.

The music that was still playing in your ear was driving you crazy and you tried to shake your head to get the airpod out, but it was sitting neatly inside.

“Four… three…”

“Kai, stand up and come here, let me choke you myself”.

Just give him the damn bell, you thought. You tried to move away from under his aim, but Kai just adjusted. There was nowhere to escape from the hard, guillotine-like edge of your own device.

“Two…”

“Okay!” Damon yelled. He threw something inside the room, and Kai caught it with one hand, silencing the thin ringing. He dropped your phone, having lost all interest in both you and Pantera in a skip of a heartbeat.

“Hmm… okay”. He took it with both hands and started siphoning. Damon was waiting in the door, getting ready to charge like a bull.

You shouldn’t have brought him the water. It’s actually pretty understandable, what he did. That was the worst thing. You could understand the kind of things Kai did, and why he did it. You just hated the fact he was living in this alien dimension, completely alone, and no one could relate. You understood but you couldn’t empathize.

He threw out his hand, and Damon got pulled by an invisible force, crashing hard into the opposite wall somewhere in the corridor.

Kai took out your airpod, and the silence of the room went ringing louder than the bell. He jumped off the bed and patted you on your shoulder.

“I hope you enjoyed my Blink story. It’s completely true. I actually still like them. Alright, bye”.

Putting the bell into his pocket like a shoplifter that can’t keep his hands away from stuff, he walked away, leaving you floating on the bed, with your head full of squealing.

In a couple of minutes Salvatore’s face was next to you, and his salty, hot blood started flooding your throat. You closed your eyes, trying not to puke, as it healed you from the inside.

If your mouth wasn’t occupied, as you were gradually gaining all your body back, you would be swearing so much.

[jay-cult]

Static and Stars : Prologue

Before a great story is told, one must often understand why.

Two dark figures stopped suddenly in the dimly lit night. The sand at their feet stood still, marking the hour windless. They looked up at the neon sign.

Ed and Edna’s Scrap N Junk

“I can’t believe he didn’t come,” a young, scared-looking girl commented to the other person.

“He couldn’t,” the other woman replied, full red lips moving in a whisper. “He didn’t even want to think about it.”

The smaller girl nodded, and pulled a hood on. The woman followed suit. They kept on guard from any possible security cameras.

“Are you sure this is gonna work?” The girl asked. “I mean….. What if they don’t want him?”

“Don’t worry about it,” the woman answered, taking a step through the gateway. “They were, a long time ago, very good friends of mine… we… are very sure. They wanted to raise a kid, but they were unable to have any. A-anyway. We’ve been over this.”

The girl nodded again, but her light blue eyes looked down in some doubt.

The two walked around the mountains of rubble in the darkness. The woman clung tight to a bundle in her arms. It stayed still.

They finally arrived at the door to a humble-looking trailer. Its light only dimly filled a small space around it. The woman stooped down, placing the bundle at the very foot of the door. It continued to lie still, almost too peaceful.

She slid a note out of her pocket, and placed it right on top. If ever you find the need to reveal the origins of this child, this address is enough for him to find his way, it read. An address was listed. We respectfully ask one thing. There is no need for him to be famous or important. He just needs to be loved, and free. Please do that for us.

The woman reached into a pocket again, and took out a light blue charm that shone with easily reflected light. It was in the shape of a lightning bolt. She placed it by the note, as if to say, he’ll always be a Staticholder.

The two gazed at the thing on the ground. The woman couldn’t draw herself away, until she forced herself to look to the side. Tears found their way to her eyes, then down her cheeks, but she knew she could not even let her own sister see how torn she was. “I’m going to go,” she mumbled. She stumbled away.

“Where are you going?” The girl asked, voice toned with fear, the woman a few steps away already.

The woman lowered her head. She wiped her face with her hands. “Away.”

She bolted up a tower of junk, almost invisible in the cold night. Her hood flew off and her golden hair wove as she ran. Her sorrowful, tear-ridden face was now a little visible in the dark. She reached the top, and leaped off the mound. The air beneath her lit and blue energy began to take shape, the shape of a dragon. It flew away, a sparking light, until it was dark again and the speck was gone.

The girl turned and looked back at the bundle, making her way towards it.

“Oh, you,” she whispered. “Little Staticholder…… a….. little guy.” She didn’t really understand. She didn’t understand why this had to happen.

The bundle stirred now, awakening, but no voice came yet. Little eyes were still shut tight. The young girl crouched down to look at it again. This time she was alone. Confused thoughts raged through her head. She wondered if, for a few moments, she could take it, and she thought maybe she could run away and be free of the future her parents promised her and instead try to make a life with a child- no, that would never work. The idea was insane. She knew it had to be left here. He had to be left here.

Still, she felt an odd connection that was there, even if she had never seen him until these past few hours. Perhaps it was sympathy, or perhaps it was a weirdly quick bond from staring at a sleeping baby, or maybe… it was just an automatic family tie, like as if blood was a path to loving.

“You’re not exactly my blood, are you though,” she said silently. “We still both have something from my parents though, I guess. I-”

The bundle stirred again and eyes screwed as if they were trying so so hard to do something. And then miraculously the eyes opened for the first time she had ever seen.

“....They. They’re like mine,” she breathed in awe. Light blue as if reflecting the lightning that ran always through the Staticholder family’s veins. Man to man to man to the two sisters, and their name would end on their branch.

Her heart twisted and she looked down at the little charm that had been given to the baby. Self-control let go and she knew she had to make herself some connection to him. She reached down to take it in her hands, and then a separate little hand reached out and touched her own. She smiled more sadly than she had ever frowned.

It was over quickly, and she dragged her hand back, and slipped the metallic charm in a pocket.

“Agh, typical. Now I have to figure out how to make sure you get in as soon as possible and I get out of here so I don’t get caught. She just bolted it outta here, and now I have no way home either, huh.” Yeah, sure her sister had quite a lot on her mind with all…. This. But was it really an excuse to just dumbly leave her in this desert? She hadn’t even reached her true potential let alone been able to conjure an energy dragon, how the hell was she going to get out- right. The kid first.

No need to think up a storm of a plan. The girl stood up and banged loudly on the door, immediately scampering away to hide behind a pile of trash.

Silence.

She poked her head out for a second, until suddenly the latch of the door opened. “Hello?” She heard a very tired voice of a woman say. The girl peeked out, and saw someone about 40, which she supposed was surprisingly old to raise a child. “Oh! Oh dear, what’s this? Ed?”

A similar-aged looking man stepped out. “By golly,” he exclaimed. “It seems we have ourselves a dilemma, honey.”

The girl narrowed an eyebrow, slightly confused about the odd way the couple spoke.

“Dilemma? Well, I’d hardly say that’s the word. It doesn’t have to be,” the woman replied. “I mean look at it. What a cute little….” a pause, “guy!”

“There’s a note,” Ed said.

The girl took one last look at the situation and sighed. She supposed she should probably go back to her house before her parents found her out of bed. She quickly snuck away, back through the illuminated sign, and to the road in the desert.

“Yugh. I’m gonna have to walk all on my own now, huh.” She said disappointedly. She began the path down the road in the sharp, cold night.

She pulled back her hood, and began to ponder as people who walk often do. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the charm, moving it about to observe the starlight’s effect on its shiny surface.

A familiar car pulled past, a rare sight in this area especially at this time, and stopped suddenly. The window rolled down and a face poked out. “Rhon? Is that you?” it asked.

“Ah FSM, Irene? What are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same, and even more relevantly, about you! Get in! Where’re your fancy whozits and whatnot? Can’t you pull yourself around in those?”

“They’re just small remote-control prototypes,” the girl named Rhon mumbled, dragging herself into the surprisingly nice passenger seat. “I’m not making mobiles at twelve-”

“Alright, alright,” Irene said defensively. She rolled up her window and quickly drove on. “Hey, I am taking you to your house ASAP right now. For real what are you doing-”

“I MAY or MAY NOT have went with Lib to take care of the problem, you know the problem where she didn’t have enough to take care of more than herself-”

“SO YOU WENT INTO THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE AND KILLED HIM?”

“NO you DIMWIT!” Rhon yelled, and sighed to herself after, rubbing her forehead. “We brought him to the Walkers.”

“Ah, good choice,” Irene said. She seemed to recover easily. “FSM… a twelve year old shouldn’t have to go through this.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not a child, unlike her,” she said almost in a growl.

The car stayed in silence for a while.

“Sorry,” Rhon said suddenly.

“It’s alright, you’re starting to be a teenager after all, most of them say things like this,” Irene replied coolly.

But it was never this intense or weird between us, Rhon thought.

As if reading her thoughts, Irene piped up and said, “It’s just that this whole situation seems a little… shocking, eh?” She smiled like she knew what she did.

Rhon gave her the most disappointed look. It was an odd situation there in that car with a young girl being more serious and having gone through more than a well-established adult. “Ah, well… how have things been going, I haven’t really talked to you much since this all… happened. How’re you and that noodle boy getting along?”

“Hardly a boy,” Irene smiled. “Ah, he did used to be so young. He was only somewhat older than his apprentice when he was teaching him.”

“Ah, the infamous… did you hear about him?”

“Rumors have been going around,” Irene answered, frowning. “But… he left Chen a long, long time ago. Chen would know nothing now.”

“Wonder why,” Rhon commented.

“Yeah,” Irene said. “The man is crazy. But secretive, and well, he’s just wonderful, and it really is going pretty great with him. I-in fact, I should probably use this chance to tell you.”

Irene just stuttered. Irene never stuttered.

“You may have just had your baby situation. But now you can have real hope with me, I guess-”

“Holy. Shi-”

“YES, okay, I am, I do have a. Situation that I love that I have and I guess that’s just news for you and WOO yes there!” Irene shouted.

Rhon clapped. “Aa, nice! Cool! Wow, that’s new, huh.”

“Yeah,” Irene said.

More happy silence.

“We’re an odd couple, you know that?” the older woman said suddenly. “I mean, how did we even get to be like this, a young kid like you and… a person like me?”

“I dunno,” Rhon shrugged. “I s’pose friendships are just wild like that.”

The care came to a stop by Rhon’s home, but not right in front of it lest her parents wake up. “Ah, thanks for grabbing me outta that desert, the timing was perfect.”

“Yeah, I’m great, I know,” Irene joked. “Now do go get in your house. It’s so damn late ya crazy kid.”

She bolted off and snuck around the front of the house until she reached a window. She took a step onto it and climbed to the top of it, then onto the roof, and then she quickly dove into the window up there. Her room was just as how she had left it that night, thankfully. She dove into her covers, too tired to stare at the “Cyrus Borg: Kid Genius”-and-like posters on her walls for a few minutes before falling back asleep. She grabbed a blue dragon plushie and hugged it to her heart.

[dreamworld-1997]

A Story of Dreams and Deceit - Chapter 1

So I was rewatching Peaky Blinders just after rereading ACOMAF and an idea popped inside my head, the Inner Circle as a gang in the 20′s. Because of language barriers I couldn’t make them British (I can’t speak with a British accent, let alone write it - and I don’t  know any brit slang) so I decided to place them in New York. The beginning of this story is in 1919, before the Prohibition. 

Prompt: Feysand Gangster AU, 1919, New York

If it has any success, this story will be a multichapter fic.

Kalpana's Pub looked deserted. Light shone through the stained glass illuminating the room, specks of dust resided on the tables, noticeable only in the harsh daylight. There was a man hunched over near the bar, cleaning out shreds of glass from the floor. There was no one around to help him. The stench of cigars and alcohol told Feyre how different the place looked in the evening. "Hello, I'm here to apply for the position available." The man turned around to greet her but upon seeing her, his face fell. "The position has already been filled." Feyre didn't believe him for a second. "The job offer was filed in the newspaper yesterday." "Look Miss, I'm doing you a favor. You don't want to work here." "I've worked as a barmaid before, I even have references-" Feyre went to take out her papers but the owner interrupted her. "You're too pretty to work here. If someone wants you, I can't stop them." "I can fend for myself. I'm not looking for a guardian. I'm looking for a job." "I am the owner of this pub but the streets are ruled by the Orfeo gang. This pub is their meeting point of choice. Are you sure this is the type of crowd you want to mix in with?" Feyre nodded determined. The man shook his head silently. "Fair enough Miss-" "Archeron." "Alright, Miss Archeron, let's see if you can handle this establishment for a night."

One month later

Feyre poured another glass of whiskey and passed it to the customer waiting on one of the bar stools. She smiled as soon as she saw who was coming in the pub. "Feyreee!!! It's time to celebrate! Give us the good stuff!" Cassian shoved the man aside from the stool generally considered his own. "And what are we celebrating exactly?" Feyre turned around to pick a bottle of irish whiskey from the top shelf. "Cass!" Azriel interrupted him and with a simple head gesture told his brother to join him in their private room. "Agh, duty awaits my fair maiden. Bring that bottle to the family room will you? Az's head will combust if I'm not stepping in there right behind him," and with those last words he departed. She let a gentle smile tug at her lips before she picked a chair to climb on. The top shelf was too high for her to reach. "The usual should suffice for the occasion, darling." The soft voice just behind her made goosebumps on her neck. She could feel him behind her. "I'm sorry, I thought you had cause for celebration. Top shelf whiskey had been requested." She stepped down and only too late did she realize the movement would bring her chest to chest with him. The lack of space between the pair drew a few stares. No one stood this close to Rhysand - no one except those he threatened, and his close family on occasion. Since it was a known fact she was only a mere barmaid, and the smile on his face showed they were definitely not enemies - it only made those eyes more curious. "I'm afraid my brother is a bit ahead the rest of us. There's no reason to celebrate...yet. Tomorrow night we hope to pop that top shelf stuff." "What's happening tomorrow?" Feyre asked even if she knew the chances of getting an actual answer out of him were slim. Still, she tried. Rhys little smile broadened at that. "We're going to the races, darling." Feyre scrunched her eyebrows in confusion. "Wear something nice. Red." His violet eyes sparkled. "I'm going?" "Of course." "I don't have a dress." This time Rhys looked confused. "Well, not a nice dress, that is. Definitely not a nice, red dress." She noticed the playful glint in her eyes was not missed. "I'll take care of that. Someone will drop it tomorrow morning with the money for your trouble." Rhys replied but his eyes were at the door of their family room, where Mor was waiting impatiently. "Oh, so this is business then." Feyre didn't let the disappointment sink in. But the sentiment had been transparent enough in her voice for Rhys to notice. "Feyre-" "Rhys!!!" His cousin shouted from across the bar. "Everyone's waiting! We do have other things to do than wait around for you to try and get under Feyre's skirts." Feyre looked struck at the menace in his cousin's words. "I'm sorry Feyre, it's not about you. I'm just a bit nervous for tomorrow." Mor tried to assure her. "It's okay." She tried to sound fine but she heard the forced tone in her own voice. "Feyre, why don't you go home early? Tomorrow will be a full day, you need your rest," Rhys proposed. "You're joining Rhys at the races?" Mor sounded genuinely enthused. She simply nodded, in response to both of them as she dropped her apron.

Feyre went to talk with George, her actual boss before leaving. "Mr. Orfeo sent me home." He looked worried. "Did you upset him? Feyre I warned you not to upset Mr. Orfeo, I cannot protect you-" "No, I did not upset him-" "Is he expecting trouble then?" "I don't think so..." "Then why would he send you home? Mr. Orfeo knows I need help tonight during the rush." Feyre was uncertain. Should she just ignore Rhys and stay to help or- "You go, if Mr. Orfeo told you to go, you go. I'll deal with it."

She stared at the painting in front of her, determined to forget the real reason for being in the museum. She imagined herself to be just an art enthusiast who came here for inspiration, or peace and quiet. Really, she imagined herself before...all of this. Before her mother's untimely death, her estrangement with her sisters, before- "Feyre, is something the matter?" The sentiment in his voice made her body go stiff. She'd forgotten about that. Amidst everything she had forgotten about it all. "No, I actually have good news." Feyre forced a smile on her lips. "Rhysand Orfeo has invited me to join him tomorrow at the races. From the excitement and agitation surrounding his family members it's something big. It's some important business and he trusts me enough to invite me along." "I knew you could do it Feyre. I knew you could gain his trust. But I didn't expect him to involve you personally in his business. You don't have to go, you can decline. There are other ways to attain the information we need." "Do not underestimate me, Commissioner Burnham." "I'm just worried." "I'll let you know how everything pans out." With that Feyre stood up and left.

Part 2

[atomic-thomas]

Fake ASMR Script (Girlfriend Uses Her Shrink Ray On You & You're Happy About It)

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

"Babe...? Whatcha doin'?"

"Browsing... Cultured Giantess Manga. Hehehehe~ How fitting."

"Oh, I'll tell you what I mean by that. In fact, I'll even show you. Come to the basement with me. I think you'll be really pleased to see what I just finished building."

"..."

"There it is. It's finally complete. A real, genuine, fully functioning shrink ray."

"Woah! Hey. Surprise hug. I love you to, honey. Jeez, you sure are thrilled about this, huh?"

"Hahahaha! Okay, okay. Hold your horses, bucko. I'll shrink you in just a moment. Just gimme a minute to set everything up. Gotta make sure this goes without a hitch. As exciting as this is, it's also very dangerous. There's a lot that can easily go wrong so I'm taking every precaution possible to ensure your safety."

"Alright. Do me a favor & put on this black shirt. I'm gonna have you sit down on a white stool. Birch wood. Nice!"

"Uh... About the black shirt. Here's the thing. I... Don't actually know how small you're going to end up so I need to make sure I can see you clearly against a surface that doesn't make you blend in. The last thing I want is to lose sight of you & find a red stain on my shoe later."

"Yes, I tested it earlier. I used it on an apple. It did work. The apple was shrunk to the size of... Well, an apple seed. I have no idea how that ratio will scale with a human, but I guess we're about to find out."

"Just gonna shine this light on you &... That's it for prep. It's time. So... Are you ready to finally live out this crazy fantasy of yours?"

"Oh, you've been ready alright. Smile for the camera because the world is about to become big for you."

*ZAP*

"...!"

"Oh My God... No way! You... You look like a speck of pepper. Ah-... Ahaha... W-wow! This is crazy! Hold on. Lemme take a really close look at you."

"Good Lord... You're shorter than a millimeter. And... I can't hear a word you're saying. Oh dear. I didn't account for this. All I hear from you are quiet squeaks."

"Is... Is my voice too overpowering for your tiny ears? Just gimme a nod or head shake."

"..."

"Really? It isn't? That's... Bizarre. Man, you've just been staring into my giant eyeball. That must be pretty intimidating. My eye probably looks like a portal to another world to you."

"I assume you probably want me to pick you up, but... Agh, you're so damn small. I'm afraid I might crush you just by twitching slightly. Oh God... What if I breathe too hard? Would you get sent flying? Would you become a choking hazard? This is so overwhelming."

"I think I know what to do. I'll just... Hold out my hand & let you get on. Hop aboard, babe."

"There you go. Wow! This is amazing! I'm holding my itty-bitty, teeny-tiny boyfriend in the palm of my hand. You're so cute!"

"My hand must be like an entire football field to you. You look like you're having so fun much. Maybe later, we can reverse the roles. I wanna try shrinking to."

"Huh? Why are you waving your arms? Do you want me to do something?"

"You're pointing to your face. Does that mean... You want me to bring you closer to my face?"

"Very well then. But don't get any ideas. I'm not gonna eat you no matter how much you may want me to. I have to draw the line somewhere. There are limits to this fantasy. Let's use common sense."

"There. I can't bring my hand any closer to my face. What's up, you little fruit fly?"

"What are you doing? You're... Climbing onto my nose. And... Now you're resting on my nose. Is that all you wanted to do?"

"I mean... That's nice & all, but... You do realize what'll happen if I sneeze, right?"

"Actually... Uh Oh... Oh No... Babe. Ahhh-... Babe, seriously. Get back into my hand right now. I can cover you with my my other hand. I feel like I really am gonna sneeze."

"Ahhh-... Babe, hurry! Please!" AHHH-..."

"ACHOO!"

"Agh, sorry. You okay there, sweetie?"

"Oh, good. Whew. You know... I think I'd be less worried if you were... Oh, I don't know... Maybe an inch tall? Perhaps a couple inches? Being near microscopic is a bit... Excessive. Then again... I am giving you the Mega Giantess experience right now. I'm basically an all-powerful Goddess to you."

"Yeah, I see that smile. You're having the time of your life. But... I think I'm gonna change you back now. We can do this again later. It's just... I'm really uncomfortable with you at that size. I'm gonna try to make some adjustments to the ratio. If you were an inch tall, that'd be perfect. At least then, I wouldn't have to worry about the possibility of my mere existence killing you."

"Now then... Ready?"

*ZAP*

{THE END}

[f-i-n-d-4]

Prologue

//The prologue for the actual novel for FIND (yeah that’s supposed to be a thing)

//p long n probably dumb so it’s under the read-more

~~~~~~~~~~~

“How much longer?” a young man whined, his body slumped in exhaustion as he trudged the soles of his old scuffed shoes forward. He seemed to be around the age of 17, teetering on the edge of adulthood. His hair was a fair hazel color, similar to that of the color of a lively young tree’s trunk. His skin was a lightly-tanned peachy tone, the bridge of his small nose specked with dark freckles. “We’ve been walking for so long!” he complained, the thin pair of translucent lime-green wings attached to his back flittering with frustration as he spoke. His wide, innocent eyes that were the same shade of polished emeralds looked up with an angry, pouty expression towards the back of another young man who definitely looked a tad older in comparison. His silky black hair shimmered a faint blue whenever the shade of the trees that surrounded them abated to let fleeting rays of sunlight pass through. It was tied back into a loose ponytail by a sea-blue string, and his skin was more of an olive shade than the fair skin tone of the brunet, complimenting the sapphire-blue eyes that glanced back at the brunet boy. Although his expression appeared somewhat miffed, he seemed to have an almost ethereal aura around him.

“Have patience, brother,” the man replied in a calm, composed manner despite the flash of annoyance that was subtly embedded into his expression. He picked up a stray brown leaf that fell onto the top of his head, his cool blue eyes glancing over its fragile state before he lightly tossed it to the whining boy, who was clearly unsatisfied with the answer he was given.

“Patience, patience, patience,” he grumbled to himself, his wings slightly twitching as he caught the dead leaf between his thumb and pointer finger. Within seconds, the brown crumpled leaf gradually started to transform into a healthy green one, flourishing to appear as if it could have just been plucked from a branch. He then simply let go of it, continuing to walk along as the rejuvenated leaf gently fluttered to the ground. “That’s what you told me last time!”

“Because the same question still receives the same answer,” the man huffed, irritation now starting to lace into his tone as he continued this conversation with the hazel-haired boy, his blue orbs of eyes glinting with a momentary glow before returning to normal. The brunet picked up on such a subtle change with ease as he had more than enough experience, and it only made him more pouty, his cheeks puffing up with air as he started to become impatient, his thin wings flitting to express it.

“Yeah, well, when does it get a different answer?? We've been walking for weeks!”

“Actually,” a shorter boy with bright golden hair suddenly cut into the conversation, his voice meek yet firm. His eyes were a brighter shade of golden than his hair, shimmering like the sun on a summer’s day, and he didn't look to be any older than 16. His skin was a light creamy color with a pink undertone, the shade of his skin paler than the duo’s. “We’ve only been traveling five days and six hours.” The brunet turned his head towards the blond boy with a peeved expression, his lips pursed as he frowned.

“Why must you correct me like this, deartháir óg?” he pouted, lazily flicking the boy’s forehead. It was quite clear that the blond didn't like this action as he flinched ever so slightly. He glared at the brunet, rubbing the spot where he had been flicked with his hand.

“First of all, do not call me ‘young bro,’” he stated, his voice much more direct and assertive than before. “Secondly, I merely corrected you because you stated something that is false, and I wanted to remedy your mistake.” The only response the brunet had was momentary silence before he abruptly let out a loud groan.

“Ughh, deireadh díreach mo fulaingt...” the brunet moaned in a foreign language, his head sagging down as his pace started to slow. “There aren't any flowers around, barely any sunlight anywhere, my legs hurt, we don't have a lot of water left, and I'm hungry…” Though the blue-eyed man still had traces of annoyances etched onto his face, his expression seemed to soften just the smallest bit at the brunet’s complaints.

“Just hang in there for a little bit more,” he urged, his voice lighter and with a subtle tone of encouragement. “Remember why we left and why we are walking right now in the first place.”

“Um ein Zuhause zu finden, das uns alle akzeptiert.” A new voice joined the conversation in a language different than the two that had already been spoken, making all three men stop in their tracks and turn their heads toward a rather tall man with ash-black hair that was adorned with a pair of two charcoal-black horns that slowly faded into a fiery red at the tips, the transition appearing as if they had been exposed to a hearth for quite some time. Large wings the color of scarlet could somewhat be seen neatly folded behind his back. Another rather noteworthy characteristic the man had were his ruby-red eyes that not only shone like an actual jewel but also contained pupils that physically looked different than the trio of men’s. The man’s pupils instead closely resembled that of a snake’s or a reptile’s, the normally-round black orbs instead thin slits that only accentuated the ardent ruby color of his irises. A wide, warm smile was curled onto the man’s lips as he stood in front of them with his arms crossed over his well-built body that had a tanned color to it, a shade that was a rather stark contrast to the skin colors of the other three. Out of all of them, he was the tallest, a good few inches taller than the man with a ponytail, and he outwardly looked the oldest as well. “To find a home that will accept all of us,” he repeated his spoken words in English. “You haven't forgotten our goal, have you?”

At such a question, the brunet gave a bright smile and fiercely shook his head. “Of course not!!” he answered quickly and loudly, much to the dismay of his two brothers who clasped one hand over the corresponding side of their ears. “We’re gonna find a home where we can all live happily and safely with no one to judge us! We’ll have our own garden that’ll be taken care of by me, a library for Niko, a study hall for Izzy, and a room for you to hoard your stuff, Fried!!” His word quickened in pace as he continued to ramble through his response, which made the dragon-like man let out a hearty laugh while the blond boy smiled softly and the noiret let out a sigh.

“Yes, that is what we’re searching for,” the horned man let out a few more chuckles before he gently ruffled the brunet’s hair, “though I was hoping I'd get something more than just a ‘hoarding room.’” The brunet let out an innocent giggle.

“Well, we have to put that big bag of junk of yours somewhere!” he reasoned, his wings fluttering as he pointed to the bag that was tossed over the man’s shoulder, hidden behind one of his carmine-colored wings. The tall man pretended to be extravagantly hurt by his words, putting his free hand over his chest in an exaggerated way as he slightly hunched over in mock pain.

“Agh, you..have wounded me...” he groaned, deliberately making himself sound like he was out of breath. “How could..my own brother..do this to me...” A refreshing burst of laughter escaped the brunet’s lips, the chime-like sound making both the short blond and the composed noiret smile softly. The tall man too had a soft grin curled onto his lips once he had finished with his little performance, and soon he readjusted his stance and stretched out his arms, one of his hands still holding that bulky sack of his. “Well, now that you’re no longer whining,” he started while he rolled both his shoulders. “Why don’t we continue moving forward?” The brunet soon finished his burst of laughter and nodded with a brighter smile on his face.

“Maith go leor! Let’s go!” the brunet puts one hand on his hip and points forward with his other hand. This action only made the man chuckle while the other two rolled their eyes, though they both supposed this was way better than incessant questioning and nonstop whining.

“Come on then, brothers,” the oldest man called to the three of them, his eyes gleaming with determination. “Our home awaits us.”