#<- oh he's got a better plan now - the prophet is not safe on that rock! /silly

[just-a-mer]

The siren had learned, over the years, how to mask his presence and move with the water to create a sort of bond in silence. With the prophet's proximity to the gentle lap of the waves, it created a perfect series of plans in his head.

He places his bag on the sand to avoid any accidental damage to its contents, thinking over the possibilities before settling on a simple idea. One that brought a mischievous smile to his lips.

Odysseus crept close, gaze momentarily lingering on the staff nearby before returning to their star. They might get bonked for this, and they almost felt bad about disturbing the peace. Almost. He gives Tiresias a generous half a second to notice his presence before biting down on their shoulder. It's not enough to draw blood or risk bruising, but not light enough to be considered a nip, either. Simply an Ody bite formed from an overwhelming sense of adoration.

ooc: holiday-related asks you say... I'm here to deliver! also, I hope you have loads of fun despite the business!! :D /gen

Holidays were always a fun part of the year for Odysseus; mostly due to the fact it meant extended time with family and friends. Often including extravagant meals and games at his palace.

While the past twenty years had events that made the holidays rather miserable the war, being stuck on an island, and getting into conflicts with the gods there was a few people Odysseus could still spend his time with.

The siren doesn't announce themselves as they approach the prophet's island, deciding to make their presence known at first by getting just close enough to brush his fingers against Tiresias' sides in a surprise tickle.

[ in the underworld, time can feel—and normally is—pretty irrelevant. It doesn’t get colder nor warmer, and there’s no signs for whenever the seasons change. Once dead, your sense of time and space begins to fade away, especially because there’s no need for it. Even still, Tiresias acutely aware that there were certain times more people were excited about one day or week than others, and it didn’t often take a genius to see when that time came around, much less a prophet ]

[ usually they sat closest to their willow tree, or at the highest peak of their isle, but through more visits, they have begun sitting down by the rocky shores more often. Particularly, they have found a perch for themselves on a rock not too far from the island, but not attached to it, either. It was a peaceful rock, and where they sat now, blindly zoning out and instead tuning in to the birds, and the whispers of the souls ]

[missdawnandherdusk]

A Bad Day

Draco X Reader

Requested: @eve-mal1 Can you do a fluffy Draco where you’ve had a rly bad day and he comforts you x💕

A/n: Okay, so Draco might be the cause of your terrible day, but he had good reason okay? Post-War fic and some forbidden love sprinkled in there as well. Love you guys lots, let me know that you think. 

I walked out to the top of the stairs and a large round of applause erupted. I took a deep breath and smiled softly, putting on a charade. I could do this. Everyone staring at me as I descended the stairs, putting in all of my effort not to fall flat on my face.

Ron came up beside me, to escort me. “Harry canceled last minute, he sends his regards,” 

“What?” I squeaked. “But... he was supposed to...”

Harry was the reason that I had even allowed this stupid Gala to take place. He was the one who convicted me that I deserved it. Or at least that everyone deserved a bit of a break and to celebrate whatever they could. It was the reason I was in this constricting dress and pinching shoes with a hairstyle that could only induce a migraine.

“I know, but we need to go before people begin to get worried,” Ron urged.

“Right,”

Taking his arm, we mingled.

“This is... ridiculous,” I decided, among the throng of people, all congratulating and thanking me and Ron for our efforts in the war.

“Why do you think I’ve avoided them for so long?” Ron muttered.

The night was a blur for the most part, there were warm smiles and dancing, most of which I avoided for quite some time. Ron and I had gotten separated after a while and I was left alone. He no doubt went to find Hermione, and I didn’t blame him in the slightest.

“Miss Y/l/n,” A warm voice welcomed me.

I was met with dark brown eyes and a charming smile.

“Just Y/n, thank you,” I offered a polite smile.

“I came to congratulate you. You are a brave woman,” The man took my hand and kissed it.

“Thank you, I just did my job, that was all,” I blushed and looked down, feeling awkward. 

“Do not downplay your achievements, it truly remarkable what you’ve done for this country,” 

“Thank you,” I felt the blush on my face grow stronger and the need to flee growing stronger. For better or worse, I was given an out.

The glass of the great hall shattered black robes and masked figured flooding into the Gala. Amongst the screams and chaos, I drew my wand, ready. My eyes met Ron’s from across the way the same determination in his eyes. I lost him in the fray, throwing hexes and spells to take down as many black cloaked figures as I could. Yet, with each Death Eater I took down, five more took its place.

Caught off guard, I was grabbed from behind. One hand covering my mouth, another grabbing the wrist of the hand that held my wand. The vice grip didn’t let me protest or break free.

“Come with me quietly, or your friends die,” There was something in his voice that I couldn’t place.

But I had no choice. We had just gotten through a war alive. I wouldn’t let their deaths come as a cause of my stubbornness. I went with the cloaked and hooded figure.

The assailant took me with him while Apperating. I barely found my bearings before I fell to the floor. The first thing I did was ditch the death traps that were my shoes. Then I turned on my aggressor, who had made the mistake of letting me go, wand still in hand.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you!” I shouted, my wand poised and aimed at him.

My kidnapper laughed, throwing down his hood, taking off his mask. I gasped. Silvery blond hair and cool grey eyes greet me. Grey eyes that held mischief.

“That reason enough?” Draco chuckled, throwing his mask onto a nearby bookshelf.

“You,” I growled, tightening my grip on my wand. “You...” There wasn’t an insult large enough to the anger I was feel.

“Put down the wand Y/n, you’re not going to hurt me,” Draco raised an eyebrow at me, his black cloak shrugged off and cast aside.

“But you! And the Gala! My friends! Those people!” I yelled.

“Are all perfectly fine.” The glint in Draco’s eye let me know that he knew something that I didn’t. It aggravated me to death.

“What game are you playing Malfoy?” I hissed. “We agreed,”

“We did,” He made his way toward me, taking the wand from my hand. “I missed you too,”

Sighing I gave in, allowing him to pull me into an embrace. It felt good to be home in his arms. It had been too long. I could feel his chest rise and fall with each breath he took, reminding me to steady myself.

“What were you thinking?” I whispered into his shoulder. “All of that for a few moments together? They’re going to come after you. You’ll have to hide again, and it’ll be even longer until we can see each other,”

He drew away, cradling my face in one of his hands. “No, I won’t,” A smile rested on his lips.

“What do you mean no you won’t?” I demanded, pushing out of his reach. “Death Eaters just attacked a post-war Gala! You kidnapped me! Merlin, they’re going to think I’m in actual danger!” My voiced reached a point of hysterics. “Draco what the hell were you thinking!?” The gravity of the situation weighed on me heavily.

“Hey, will you calm down for two seconds?” Draco took a step toward me.

“No! I will not calm down!” I shouted at him, “Of all the stupid, reckless, idiotic things you could have done!”

“I told you she would yell,” A new voice chimed in and my eyes met amused green ones and a tangle of raven curls. “We should have told her,”

“We needed to make it look real,” Draco refuted. “And she never would have agreed.”

“Harry?” I sputtered. “But... you... you ditched me!” I was back to yelling, jabbing a finger accusingly at him. “And you seriously let him go through with this plan!? I know you’re both daft, but this is low for the both of you!”

“She’s got quite a mouth on her,” Harry chuckled.

“Give her a minute, she’ll come round,” Draco grinned, looking at me, expectant.

“Refer to her in third person again and you’ll have bigger problems than my fury,” I hissed. “Now what the hell is going on!?”

“Are you ready to listen?” Draco asked, calmly—condescendingly. 

“Don’t patronize me,” I snapped, crossing my arms.

“Oh good,” Ron burst through the door, “Hermione and I are in, everything else is taken care of.”

“Ron knew!?” I demanded. “Did everyone but me know!?”

Ron slowly backed away, and Draco chuckled, coming toward me again, with no fear that I might take a swing at him. It was a serious consideration.

“Harry, leave us for a moment?” Draco requested softly. The chosen one left without another word.

“Draco, what’s going on?” My anger had passed, and now I was scared and confused with more questions that loomed with the weight of the world than answers.

He took a deep breath in and pulled me to a loveseat in the sitting room we were in. I laid my head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around me.

“I don’t want to lose you again.” I whispered. “Just tell me what’s going on,”

“Harry and your other friends decided to help me getting back to you in a safe way that wouldn’t threaten either of our lives,” Draco began, shushing me when I began to argue back. “The Gala was put on with a few strings pulled from Harry and Hermione. Some of the attenders will remember the Death Eater attack, but most won’t. Those who do remember will test as if their memories had been altered, not the other way around,”

“Hermione?” I mused.

“Yours truly,” He grinned. “Give me a little credit, there’s only so long that I can stay away from you before I start to get creative. I figured out the spell a week ago. Hermione and I tested it on Ron and Harry. It worked.”

“You... created a spell for me?” I gaped up at him, settling into a warm smile. He pressed a kiss to my forehead and continued. Wandless magic began to undo my hair, and I could only guess that Draco was the cause.

“So, all we needed was you there and ready. Those who do remember would have seen kidnapped by yours truly, the other will think you’ve moved to America to escape the horrors of war,” He gestured here and there with his words.

“But that would mean that some wizards are thinking that I was kidnapped by a Death Eater,” I pointed out the flaw.

“Well, until it comes up in the Daily Prophet that you’re in America safe and sound, putting the entire thing to rest.” His victorious smile made me give up on the notion of any argument against his plan. If he believed it would work, then so would I.

“Any other questions?” He mused, standing.

“Why didn’t Harry show?” I pondered, letting him lead me down the halls of the Manor to our usual shared room.

“Because his word would be the end all be all. And it would create more rumors and conspiracies, and it was easier for him to miss the event all together,”

Draco opened the door to the en suite bathroom, revealing a warm bath and a dozen lit candles. The warm atmosphere wrapped around me like a thick blanket. Draco pressed a kiss to my temple.

“Go ahead and unwind. I’ll be waiting,” He promised, leaving me alone.

Scrubbing off the makeup and washing the hairspray and gel from hair, I felt a bit more like me. The bath must have been charmed to stay warm because though I spent quite some time processing and unwinding, it remained warm. But there came a time that I had to leave the warm silky water and make my way to Draco.

In one of his old t-shirts and sweats, I wrapped a house coat around myself and ventured out. Though, he wasn’t waiting in the bedroom like I thought he would be. Frowning I padded out into the hall, leaning over the banister, searching for some sign of life in the large house. And it proved useful because I heard the faintness of music coming from the great room. Making my way down the stairs I found Draco at the piano, playing softly. A melody that belonged to me. With the hearth ablaze and candles lit, the scene was enchanting.

“Dray?” I asked softly, not wanting to scare him.

“Have a nice bath?” He asked, coming over to me, his attire close to mine. I nodded.

“Did everyone leave?” I asked, looking at the large empty warm room.

“They thought maybe we’d want some time to ourselves.” He smiled leading me to the large sofa where blankets and pillows greeted us.

“They’d be right,” I smiled, curling up with him.

His arms wrapped around me, one hand drifting to my hair and running through the damp tresses. I laid my head back on his shoulder.

“You really put me through a hell of a day,” I muttered.

“I know, I’m sorry,” He murmured, kissing the top of my head. “But it had to work. I couldn’t stand another moment without you,”

A smile touched my lips. A house elf came with mugs of warm tea and assorted biscuits and sweets. I raised an eyebrow and Draco smiled, switching on the large TV that I had convinced him to install as a familiar melody of a favorite movie of mine began to play.

“Really laying it on thick, are we?” I laughed, settling down into the comfort of his arms and the pillows around us.

“You said it, I put you through a hell of a day. I figured I’d have to make it up to you,” With ease Draco pulled me into his lap, holding me closer.

“Even without all of this, you did manage to get us safe and sound together and I owe you a lot for that,” I intertwined my fingers with his. He held to my hand tightly.

“I had at least three ulterior motives,” He smirked down at me, causing me to roll me eyes. 

“Well, I’m glad you did it regardless,”

“Anything to get back to you, my love.”

As the movie progressed, I sang softly to the songs on screen, eventually hearing Draco faint baritone harmonize with my gentle melody. And for that moment, I was certain, no matter what the day threw at me—be it Death Eaters and a stuffy Gala—I’d go through it all for Draco.

.

masterlist

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more like this:

beautifully beastly

a death eater and a dancer

.

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[sisterssafespace]

Asalaam alaikum.. can you advise on how to deal with anxiety?

و عليكم السلام و رحمة الله و بركاته 🤍

أعوذ بالله من الشيطان الرجيم

بسم الله الرحمان الرحيم،

ٱذۡهَبۡ إِلَىٰ فِرۡعَوۡنَ إِنَّهُۥ طَغَىٰ (24) قَالَ رَبِّ ٱشۡرَحۡ لِي صَدۡرِي (25) وَيَسِّرۡ لِيٓ أَمۡرِي (26) وَٱحۡلُلۡ عُقۡدَةٗ مِّن لِّسَانِي (27) يَفۡقَهُواْ قَوۡلِي (28) وَٱجۡعَل لِّي وَزِيرٗا مِّنۡ أَهۡلِي (29) هَٰرُونَ أَخِي (30) ٱشۡدُدۡ بِهِۦٓ أَزۡرِي (31) وَأَشۡرِكۡهُ فِيٓ أَمۡرِي (32) كَيۡ نُسَبِّحَكَ كَثِيرٗا (33) وَنَذۡكُرَكَ كَثِيرًا (34) إِنَّكَ كُنتَ بِنَا بَصِيرٗا (35) قَالَ قَدْ أُوتِيتَ سُؤْلَكَ يَا مُوسَى (36)

24. Go to Pharaoh; He has transgressed.” 25. He said, “My Lord, put my heart at peace for me. 26. And ease my task for me. 27. And untie the knot from my tongue. 28. So they can understand my speech. 29. And appoint an assistant for me, from my family. 30. Aaron, my brother. 31. Strengthen me with him. 32. And have him share in my mission. 33. That we may glorify You much. 34. And remember You much. 35. You are always watching over us.” 36. [Allāh] said, "You have been granted your request, O Moses

ٱذۡهَبَآ إِلَىٰ فِرۡعَوۡنَ إِنَّهُۥ طَغَىٰ (43) فَقُولَا لَهُۥ قَوۡلٗا لَّيِّنٗا لَّعَلَّهُۥ يَتَذَكَّرُ أَوۡ يَخۡشَىٰ (44) قَالَا رَبَّنَآ إِنَّنَا نَخَافُ أَن يَفۡرُطَ عَلَيۡنَآ أَوۡ أَن يَطۡغَىٰ (45) قَالَ لَا تَخَافَآۖ إِنَّنِي مَعَكُمَآ أَسۡمَعُ وَأَرَىٰ (46)

43. Go to Pharaoh. He has tyrannized. 44. But speak to him nicely. Perhaps he will remember, or have some fear.” 45. They said, “Lord, we fear he may persecute us, or become violent.” 46. He said, “Do not fear, I am with you, I hear and I see.

Surat Ta Ha (20) - طه 🤍

Dear sister, I found myself starting with these two passages that are of my absolute favorite passages in the holy Quran in general and in Surat Ta Ha in particular because in my mind when I hear the word anxiety it always connects to surat Ta Ha or what I love to call my anti-anxiety pill. Alhamdulillah.

Now why these passages? It might not be known or talked about a lot, but these verses are a proof that prophet Musa (as) had anxiety. In these verses, Allah swt orders him to go speak to the pharaoh, arguably the most tyrannizing criminal that this earth has seen. This task spikes prophet Musa's anxiety and in the first passage he asks Allah swt to (relax his chest) put his heart at peace and ease his affairs, then he requests support from a family member, his brother Harun (as) - and it is also interpreted that prophet Musa (as) had speech impairment, he has problems in his speech? Thus the " untie the knot from my tongue " duaa he made for Allah swt, so he needed to be also backed up by his brother. Can you imagine the amount of anxiety he must have been feeling and going through? Not only the Lord of the Worlds was directly speaking to him ( a surreal supernatural experience ) but also He swt was giving him such a BIG task! I mean sis! I have a thesis I need to finish and it feels like there is a mountain sitting on my chest 24/7, even when I sleep at night I have nightmares about it. And whenever I have to make an important phone call or go into the principal's office at work, I get the whole rapid heartbeats, stomachache, joint pain, shaky voice and whatnot. You know the drill.. Anyways, back to Musa (as), so what does Allah swt say? He swt doesn't tell him that he (Musa) is crazy or delusional, He swt doesn't accuse him of lack of faith, or of being dominated by the Shaytan's waswasah (whispers) like these now Shaykhs throw at us. He swt is the all-knowing, the most just, the most fair, the most merciful and the most gracious. He swt not only acknowledges prophet Musa (as)'s fear and immediately reassures him and calms his heart : you have been granted your request! " Ya Allah.. this gets me every time wallahi.

You know what's the thing we need the most when our anxiety hits? Reassurance. Full stop. Reassurance silences all the voices inside our heads, calms us down, puts our hearts to ease. And what a better place to get reassurance from other than Allah swt?

And Allah swt does it again, further down in the Surah, when faces with the task again prophet Musa (as) voices his worries again, and Allah swt doesn't get fed up with him, doesn't accuse him of being a coward or annoying.. He swt patiently assures him that He swt is with him and with his brother, He swts hears and listens. I once heard a tafseer for this verse that compares it to a mother's love, when her child goes out to play and she will reassure them by saying she is around not far away she could see them from the window and hear them if they need anything. How comforting, sübhanallah.

With that being said and clarified, let me cut to the chase before the post gets too long.

The first step to dealing with your anxiety is to actually accept it. Never be ashamed of it. It is something that even a high-ranking prophet experienced. It is not a sin, it is not your fault, it is just the way your brain is wired. And it is something that Allah swt is testing you with. And the first step to pass your test is to actually acknowledge and accept it. For me, it felt like my whole life made sense the moment I was diagnosed with anxiety. When my therapist actually uttered the words, which wasn't a long time ago, I felt so sorry for all the girls that I have been, throughout the different stages of my life whom had to struggle and push through the pain, the dilemma, the countless anxiety attacks and made it through without actually knowing what they had, while being called crazy, gaslit, disregard, attacked, humiliated, mocked, bullied, etc.. for something that they didn't do nor did they understand. So my first advice to you is to befriend your anxiety, you win nothing by fighting it and making it your enemy. On the contrary, she (oh trust me it's a she, lmao) is a part of who you are, to the point that it could define some of your personality traits, she lives in your head rent free, she is not going anywhere anytime soon, so you better make peace with her. Rejecting, hating, attacking, blaming your anxiety will only make it worse.

Another basic advice is to actually study it, learn it, identify your triggers, be in tone with your body, pay attention to your mood changes, your heart rate, the stomach pain, or whatever symptoms you experience, and identify the act or event or task that generated and triggered those symptoms. That's how you find your triggers, and then next time when you anticipate that thing, you could go through it in your head, you could rehearse or make plans, you could take all your precautions and whatnot.

As for remedies, I am no therapist, so I am not allowed to prescribe anything, but I do take pills myself when necessary. God knows sometimes it gets too much. Breathing helps. Deep thorough breaths from the tummy, they can help calm your heartbeats.. if when you feel anxious about something you would have the time to read some Quran then please do it, it really calms you down and distracts you from the problem even momentarily. Umm, you can listen to your comfort audio (be it a quran recitation or something like I have already mentioned in the post earlier today), talk to someone who makes you comfortable, whether a parent, a partner, a sibling, a best friend... and finally, I will give you my therapist's golden tip: if it doesn't work, ASK FOR HELP.

And eventually, always go back to Allah swt, the source of all comfort, the source of all reassurance and the source of all good. Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) said, "Allah said, 'I am to my slave as he thinks of Me, (i.e. I am able to do for him what he thinks I can do for him). So always try to think (after you are done freaking out 😅) that Allah swt has got you, and that probably all the bad things that you are scared of won't even come true. Allah swt is the most merciful and the most gracious, He swt is the best of planners and no one has out best interest more than the Pne who created us. Alhamdulillah.

Tbh, I could go on about this for days, but I think I have written the longest answer for an ask in the history of Tumblr. So imma stop here.

I will leave you with 3 very meaningful duaas that are supposed to be recited in the morning and evening adhkar, try to incorporate them in your daily routine, and you will soon notice the difference, bi idhn Allah :)

- بسم الله الذي لا يضر مع اسمه شيء في الأرض و لا في السماء و هو السميع العليم ×3

In the name of Allah with whose name nothing is harmed on earth nor in the heavens and He is The All-Seeing, The All-Knowing. x3

حسبي الله لا إله إلا هو عليه توكلت وهو رب العرش العظيم ×7

Allah is sufficient for me, none has the right to be worshipped except Him, upon Him I rely and He is Lord of the exalted throne. x7

اللَّهُمَّ إِنِّي أَسْأَلُكَ الْعَافِيَةَ فِي الدُّنْيَا وَالآخِرَةِ، اللَّهُمَّ إِنِّي أَسْأَلُكَ الْعَفْوَ وَالْعَافِيَةَ فِي دِينِي وَدُنْيَايَ وَأَهْلِي وَمَالِي، اللَّهُمَّ استُرْ عَوْرَاتي، وآمِنْ رَوْعَاتي، اللَّهمَّ احْفَظْنِي مِنْ بَينِ يَدَيَّ، ومِنْ خَلْفي، وَعن يَميني، وعن شِمالي، ومِن فَوْقِي، وأعُوذُ بِعَظَمَتِكَ أنْ أُغْتَالَ مِنْ تَحتي ×1

O Allah, I ask You for pardon and well-being in this life and the next. O Allah, I ask You for pardon and well-being in my religious and worldly affairs, and my family and my wealth. O Allah, veil my weaknesses and set at ease my dismay, and preserve me from the front and from behind and on my right and on my left and from above, and I take refuge with You lest I be swallowed up by the earth

P.s. you should know that I have written this answer for hours, taking as many breaks as my heart and my mind needed. I hope I managed to make a good enough answer for you 🤍.

May Allah swt calm your worries, and grant your heart sakinah and reassurance. Ameen.

Stay safe my dear, and don't hesitate to talk to me whenever it gets too much.

- A. Z. 🍃

[christmic]

I want to scream a million screams. That's what a student said, I said that's a good song name. What genre would that be for you? I'm asking the VC, no it's not Vietcong it's VaxCattle being asked by Chat GPT. Toothy left and is hanging with my ex and I really don't care that she's at a bar with writing friends....makes me laugh! I wouldn't want to join it sounds sad. I have a new life now. Britany at Lassens talked about God apologetically but I said no Christ is King and she's Christian too and we had a nice thing going until the manlet in the back told her there was another customer. But you know what Britany means? Of Britain. It's like a name without a name, just here's another from Britain. Like Helen but this woman puts Christ first. Mr No Cravings sayeth it does not sound appealing at all sitting in a bar with her ahahaha we did that like every day. I feel sorry for her drinking maybe a single beer in a bar, in a city full of posers the prophets are riding away cause, the consequence of sounds...

```

That very same morning right next to her coffee She noticed some bleeding and heard hollow coughing The National Geographic was being too graphic When all she had wanted to know was the traffic "The world's got a nosebleed," it said "And we're flooding, but we keep on cutting The trees and the forests!" And we keep on paying those freaks on the TV Who claim they will save us but want to enslave us And sweating like demons they scream through our speakers But we leave the sound on 'cause silence is harder And no one's the killer and no one's the martyr The world that has made us can no longer contain us And prophets are silent then rotting away 'cause

```

Oh after all these years, the prophets are rotting away instead of riding away. I'm not going to change, the prophets are riding away, they rode out of NYC. Only the plebs are left in that craphole. The best artists are out in the middle of no where and also AI is burning the rain forests. Who is the first to fall through their follies? Peter said he didn't need prayer and 5 months ago he's got a loaded glock pointed at his head in some abandoned military base. So I think he might need prayer! Praying for him <3 he's all twisted. But out here we don't talk bad about anyone, we took from Saint Bonjo. So is vax cattle bad? No, is it toxic? No, the Lord is my Shepherd. Stop being afraid. That makes me a sheep. But the singular for sheep is ship. And this is the Captain's Logs, from the engine room. The stowaway. The entire Bible in 90 days. The abuse of Caffeine. The nanobots as a last ditch effort to stand in the city of zion located in the back of my right thigh. The invasive thoughts are nothing compared to the goodness of the Lord. And I want to get closer to God, and the closer you get the better your joy of life gets. The room has never been so organized! My ex would always give me crap for having one desk with a lot of stuff and now I laugh at that time and sport 4 desks. Millionaire mindset, if mind was spirit and money was passion 4 Christ rocks. It really did feel like I was planets away from the peros about a month ago, and now it seems even more so. They can't keep up! When you totally submit to the highest power, everything changes. You think differently. I still get invasive thoughts. I still get bouts of sailor's mouth but am working to stop it. Daily bible readings and videos. It's serious business, shopping with a big bouncy ball. When one crush quits, another takes her place and we can get the at arms distance because God comes first, and God has big plans for me. All you have to do is not mess it up mic. And it's not too late to repent and live in freedom under God's kingdom fam! Organization over the chaos! Right over wrong! Be blessed I told Britany.

Do you know what Zoar means? It means little place. Where is your little safe space? Mine is my closet. It's gotten a major upgrade as of last Sunday, and now it's like a ghetto John Wick closet. Each item is perfectly on display inside drawers. Presentation is everything when changing. But zzzzzzzz Zoar. That's a good band name. But also as a callback to a week ago - Jessie and the dry lunches, now that's a good band name.

starts: I want to scream a million screams.

ends: That's a good band name.

[sleepywinchester]

Fool For You Pt. 7

Summary:  You are back in your hometown Freeridge to take care of your sister Jasmine and your father after being away for six years. You left Freeridge looking for a better life but in that process you had to let go of someone you loved. But you’re back and things are not the same but they sure feel like it.

Words: 2K+

Warnings: N/A

A/N: Hola!!!! Hope everyone is safe at home! This continues the story as a some sort of a series re-write. It won’t be something of all the episodes but the main ones of where Spooky appears. Hope you guys like this and always feel free to leave some feedback is so appreciated it. 

 | MESSAGE BOX | HAPPY READING!!!

(english is not my first language, might be some typos around)

Title: every day and every night.

Chapters: Uno - Dos - Tres - Cuatro - Cinco - Seis

Your nerves grew with every second that went by, all the scenarios of how Oscar and Cesar were in trouble or dead traveled your mind. It was 11:50am and you could feel how slow every second went by. It was like the clock stayed still and it was killing you softly. The news channel was on, reporting how Santos territory kept expanding. You had it on just in case something caught the news before the gang could know, before anyone could tell you the horrible news.

“Madre de misericordia, Maestra del sacrificio escondido y silencioso, a ti, que sales al encuentro de nosotros,” you stopped praying for a second when the name Santos was spoken on the TV once again. Your eyes went back to the front door after the reporter continued with non important details about the tags. “los pecadores, te consagramos en este día todos nuestro ser y todo nuestro amor. Te consagramos también nuestra vida, nuestros trabajos, nuestras alegrías, nuestras enfermedades y nuestros dolores” 

At this moment in time praying was the only thing you could do that brought you peace and serenity. Asking for a higher force was giving you hope that Oscar and Cesar were going to walk from that front door at any moment. 

Your body stood up the second the door squeaked, revealing Oscar’s tired yet victorious aura. It was like you could breathe again knowing he was okay and untouched from his enemies. Leaving the rosary on the couch, you jumped on his arms, thighs wrapped around his waist. He hold you tight to his body. 

“You’re alive,” you sighed with relief, “I thought-”

“-hey,” he smirked, “I’m good.” Oscar put you down on your feet, looking next to him was Cesar giving you a small smile. “Estamos bien.”

He knew how hard it must have been for you to wait here until he came back. This could have turned very badly but it didn’t and you guys were thankful for that.

You brushed your fingers through your hair, pushing it backwards and breathing heavily yet smiling at both of them. “I am so happy you guys are back. Estaba preocupada.” 

Oscar kissed your forehead before walking into the hallway and disappearing inside the bathroom. You looked at Cesar who was holding his backpack, his eyes roaming around the house. It was obvious that he instantly saw how different it looked yet how familiar still felt. 

“Like what I’ve done with the place?” You asked him with a smirk. 

Cesar nodded, “Looks different but feels the same.”

With a chuckle you shrugged and grabbed your rosary from the sofa, “I didn’t want to change too much, this is your home but it definitely needed some woman’s touch. I just cleaned it up a little bit and added things that needed to be added. I hope that’s ok?”

“It is,” he replied, “thanks for everything.”

You caressed his cheek, “Anytime, kid. Now go, take a nap on your bed.”

“It’s been a while,” he murmured to himself.

“I know,” you said before leaving him to be and going in Oscar’s room.

Once inside you watched him how he was taking off his flannel and throwing it over the chair. He looked exhausted yet relieved to have his brother home.

“Can you promise me something?” You told him to close the door. His eyes met yours, he was curious about what you were going to ask him. You reached him, gazing at his hazel with green eyes. “If something ever goes sideways or….” 

Oscar’s eyebrows furrowed full of worry, “Y/N-.”

“You are in a gang, Oscar,” you didn’t let him finish. “Anything can happen at any giving time. I know you are smarter than that but anything can happen and I-,” your voice broke, he caressed your chin, “I would hate to not be able to say goodbye.”

“Where is this coming from?”

“Today… I couldn’t keep my eyes off the front door. I thought in all the ways you could have died. All the ways your homies or the cops would tell me you’re dead. And all I wanted to do is to be able to speak to you… even if it was one last time.” You hugged him, his chin rested on top of your head. “I don’t want to feel like that… ever again but I know with your life I just have to deal with how to cope with this feeling every time you have to handle business but just- find a way… ¿Por favor?

When both eyes met, you noticed how soft and worried his look was. He wasn’t a man of much words but those eyes spoke a thousand words if you really knew how to listen. 

“I promise,” he said kissing your lips. 

/ / /

Later that day once Cesar got settled, Oscar decided to cook Ceviche for his brother's friends as a thank you for helping out with his brother. They were eager to know how they made the plan against the Prophet$ work. Jamal and Ruby were extremely surprised when Oscar’s plan worked, leaving Cesar safe and able to be back home. 

“You gave our money away!” Jamal shouted.

Your eyes rolled out of habit as you took a sip from your beer. These kids were loyal and brave but those qualities didn’t take the big amount of annoying out of them. 

“No, I gave them the marked ones from the Freeridge savings robbery.” Oscar told him. 

Jamal sighed with relief, “Oh thank God for a second I thought you gave our money away.”

Oscar laughed with him as he squeezed a fresh lemon on top of the ceviche bowl. “No… I didn’t give your money away, you gave your money away and now it is mine.”

Both of the teenagers' relief turned into realization of what they have done. Monse was on the facetime call at the moment demanding to be moved around the table to speak with Oscar. You felt Jamal’s stare at you and you reciprocated the stare.

“What?” You cocked an eyebrow.

His eyes were wide open, “You are not going to say nothing? Aren’t you supposed to be on our side? Teacher’s pledge?”

You scoffed with amusement, “I am not your teacher anymore and you two messed up by giving your money in the first place. It was brave and loyal but shit, that was dumb now live with that consecuence. Besides what are you going to tell your parents if they see that kind of money around?”

“Lottery,” both of them spoke in unison. 

Shaking your head you took another sip of the beer not believing these kids. Jamal once again began to bicker about the money and you could see how Oscar temperament was wearing thin. Everytime he began to get more and more mad his jaw would clench and shoulders began to look extremely tense. You gave him a smirk when your eyes met his, the kids were annoying but they were funny when they got pissed after realizing what a stupid move they made. 

They continued to yell and complain until Jamal had it and stormed out of the house dragging Ruby with him. You couldn’t help but laugh at the over dramatic scene. 

“Who wants more beer?’ you stood up and listened to how the two brothers called for one.

You grabbed two and turned to the table, looking at Cesar with your ‘mom’ eyes. “Just because we are celebrating but don’t get used to it, kid.”

Cesar gave you a smile holding the beer kind of liking how motherly you were towards him. He hasn’t had that in a while and it was nice to have someone that would treat him this way. Oscar observed how you treated his brother and smirked also liking your motherhood side. 

“Thanks, mom,” he joked, making you and Oscar laugh.

This was the closest thing the three of you had to a family dinner in years. It was a feeling you haven’t felt since you left after High School thinking of looking for a better life. You missed this feeling on Christmas, New Years and all the holidays no matter how small they were. At this moment your boyfriend wasn’t in a gang, his little brother wasn’t thrown out for not killing someone and you weren’t part of anything. This felt like a family.

After lunch Oscar and you did the dishes letting Cesar get settled back. As you cleaned the dishes you kept your silence, you had something to say but you didn’t know how to say it. The last couple weeks have been extremely good, you liked living with him but now it was different. Cesar was back and you didn’t know if leaving or even if staying was an option. 

“So,” you and Oscar said at the same time and chuckled afterwards.

“You first,” he said leaning against the counter and crossing his arms onto his chest giving you his full attention. 

“I- I’m happy Cesar is back home where he belongs.” Oscar nodded not saying he was glad but you saw it in the spark coming from his eyes. “Now that he is back... I’m moving back to my place.”

His eyes went from happy to confused in a matter of seconds. “Why?” He asked.

“It was only temporary…” you said, “We talked about this, I was just making sure Cesar had a place to stay for a little while now he is back and-,”

“-you want to leave, again,” Oscar words made you unwell. “Why do you always leave?”

Standing in front of him you tried to decipher his eyes but this was something you couldn’t just figure out by not sharing words. “What do you mean? I’m leaving because I think you would want me gone now that your brother is back.”

“Well I don’t,” he said without flinching, “I want you here, every day and every night.”

This man was never a gracious talker but he always went straight to the point and that is why you loved him. Oscar's tone was sure and steady there was no doubt of what he wanted. 

“I still need to make sure I am taking care of my dad and sister,” you told him.

Oscar grabbed the band of your jeans pulling you closer, “Somos vecinos for fucks sake. They’ll be alright, I promise.” 

When you were about to kiss him the high noise of rap coming from Cesar bedroom startled you. “Goodbye quietness,” you told him.

“We can still go to your place from time to time,” Oscar smirked, kissing your lips. 

You chuckled against his plump lips, “Hell yes.” 

NEXT CHAPTER

tags are open: just comment or send me a message ;)

@flamingweasley @dolanackles @lcandothisallday @mmelissarenee @donnaintx @blckgrl-sunflower @jayankles​

[oscars-wifeyyy]

The Innocent 17

The group sat at a table during lunch, discussing how they were going to wash the money, but they weren't able to come up with a solution until Jasmine came into the picture. Monse looked at Jasmien in alert, "what are you doing?"

"Chopping it up and chowing it down with my crew!" Jasmine said, "is it my pits? I just switched to natural deodorant," Jasmine smelled her pits as she sat down, "I knew that shit didn't work,"

"We need a rain check," Ruby said.

"Nothing personal, but it's personal," Monse said.

"What's on the agenda? Cleaning some green?" Jasmine looked at Monse, knowingly.

"How do you know?" Jamal asked as Jasmine lifted up his notebook with the exact words of what they were doing as the crew looked at Jamal with a face, "what? I'm a visual thinker,"

"Don't get your chonies in a twist. Ain't nobody worried about a few dollars," Jasmine said, but saw everybody look away, "it's not a few dollars? Are you guys involved with the Freeridge Savings Heist? Don't tell me, I don't wanna know. What you should know is you don't wanna get involved in that shit. It's marked money,"

"Thanks for the useless info dump, but we need to get back to our crisis," Monse turned to Jamal, Ruby, and Elizabeth, "how are we going to clean the money?"

"Money Bunny, Money Bunny," Jasmine sang as Jamal did the beat on the table, "gotta hop to it fast and get your money,"

"Money Bunny is a shitty company that takes advantage of people who have no other way to get money from one place to another. It's a racket and-" Monse stopped in realization, "a great idea!"

"Yes! Outgoing dinero, incoming clean clams! Minus the three percent fee, scrub-a-dub, bitches!" Jasmine yelled out.

"Ok, I'm not following," Ruby said.

"Ok, say Jamal want to help a certain fashion challenged friend new fits," Jasmine coughed out Monse's name, "Money Bunny takes his hundie and they give Jamal a code. Then Jamal gives the code to monoboob Monse, takes it to the store and, bam! She's got 100 bucks to ditch the sports bra and buy some lace. Underwires your friend, girl," Jasmine booped Monse's nose.

"But wire fraud. That's a felony that carries at least five years," Ruby said

"I'm in," Monse said.

"Me too," Jamal nodded.

"Me three," Elizabeth shrugged, "I just want Cesar to be safe,"

"Do you want this nightmare to stop?" Monse asked Ruby as he nodded, "then we go big or Cesar never goes home,"

Ruby nodded, "I'm in,"

"Damn! You guys are ride or die! But you still gotta be 18 to send and receive the dough, so you guys got some fake IDs? No, no, no. Don't tell me. I'm law enforcement," Jasmine shook her head.

"But you just taught us how to commit wire fraud," Jamal said, confused.

"Because, sometimes, I like to get dirty and straddle things, like the line. I'm a complicated woman, Jamal," Jasmine sat up.

"Which means you probably know how to get a fake ID," Elizabeth smirked.

"No!" Jasmine scoffed, "no way, I don't. But Mona Mardukas has a guy," Jasmine held out her fake ID as everyone smirked.

It was after school and they went to a house that Jasmine guided them to. They knocked on the door and a Hispanic man answered the door as Jamal screamed no as if it was the end of the world.

"You want three IDs?" the man asked.

"I texted you. We need four," Jasmine said.

"I only see three people,"

"Oh, don't act like you don't see me standing here, Chivo!" Jamal scoffed.

"I'm ghosting you," Chivo sang

"Chivo? As in Chivo Chivo?" Elizabeth asked, causing Jamal to hum.

"No. Chivo as in Chivo Ramirez,"

After everyone got their IDs and got home, Elizabeth did all her homework during her electives and was able to get a week off so she had some time to hang out with her friends and Oscar. She unlocked her door to see Oscar inside sitting on the couch so she smiled and sat down next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder, "how was your day?" "It was good, mamita," Oscar grinned, "better now that you're here with me. How was hanging out with your friends?"

"It was good. Didn't really do much except talk and stuff," Elizabeth stood up with her hand out, "c'mon, let's go bake some stuff since I got a week off from both Dwayne's and the taco joint,"

"You did? Good. You need a break," Oscar stood up, kissing her head.

The two were in the kitchen trying to make cookies, but it ended up with a flour fight and music playing as they danced around the kitchen. They didn't hear the door unlock as her mother walked in, pushing her father inside. The parents watched as the two danced with flour all over their hair, face, and clothes, Leticia with tears in her eyes as she saw the pure love between the two and Armando with a look of approval once he saw the look in Oscar's eyes.

The couple saw the parents and jumped away from each other as if they were caught doing something bad. Elizabeth saw the tears coming down her mother's face, "ma? What's wrong?"

Leticia laughed, "nothing, mija, nothing at all,"

Elizabeth looked in concern, but looked around her as well, "oh... we will clean this up right now. Oscar! Start cleaning,"

Oscar looked at Elizabeth weirdly, "you start cleaning too then!"

It was after school the next day and the crew went to get the money in so they could get clean money. Jasmine and Monse went inside a Money Bunny to get the money as Ruby, Jamal, and Elizabeth waited outside. The two girls came out and motioned for the boys and girl to follow so they followed and Monse pulled out the cash. It worked. So now they were on their way back when Prophets rolled up.

"Hey, Monse!" A voice called out, "where is that bitch ass boyfriend of yours at?"

"We already know he ain't at your pops spot no more, so where he at, then?" The Prophet asked then the group chuckled, "yeah, and we already know what's up with you, Ruby and Elizabeth...bang!" The four flinched, "santo killer, though."

Everyone was at home except for Elizabeth and Ruby. Elizabeth went to Oscar's place while Ruby went to Chivo's place. When Elizabeth arrived at Oscar's place, she ran inside and started hyperventilating. Sad Eyes, Rico, and Lorca were there while Oscar was out doing some things for the Santos so they quickly grabbed her and put her on the couch. Elizabeth wouldn't stop until Sad Eyes went up to her and held her cheeks.

"Hermanita, you need to slow your breathing. Follow me," Elizabeth nodded and tried to follow Sad Eyes breathes until she finally calmed down, "now, tell us what happened."

"I-i-i was with my friends and-and-and the P-Prophets rolled up on us and they knew m-my name! They knew me and h-how I got shot and when is this going to end! Guys, I just want all of us out of here and in a place where we don't have to worry about this!" Elizabeth ranted as the door opened and Oscar walked in to see Elizabeth crying.

He dropped everything and kneeled in front of Elizabeth, "hey, hey, babe. What happened? Who did this?"

"I just want everything to stop," Elizabeth let the tears roll down her cheek, "all this violence and everything. I want us out of here. You, Cesar, my friends, Sad Eyes, Rico, Lorca. I just want us out,"

"Ok, ok, ok," Oscar cooed at his lover, "one day we are going to have a house and you're going to be an athletic trainer and I'm going to be doing whatever job that will hire me. We can get one big house with everybody inside, including your ma and pops. One day, we are going to have it all,"

It was the next two weeks and Elizabeth stayed with Oscar those weeks as the two just held each other at night, not knowing what was going to happen the next day. Ruby and Jamal texted her asking where she was at so she just replied that she was with Oscar, but they told her that Monse didn't go to school. Elizabeth went to Monse's house with snacks and things as the two cried after Ruby and Jamal left.

Night fell and she went back to Oscar's place to see him working on his car so she went behind him and wrapped her arms around him. He continued doing what he was doing, but stopped as he heard footsteps so he quickly pulled Elizabeth between him and the car while pointing his gun to see Cesar panting. Elizabeth sighed out a breath of relief and ran to hug the boy that was like a brother to her.

Oscar grimaced while tucking the gun away, "get outta here,"

"I need protection," Cesar said.

"You came to the wrong place," Oscar said, wiping his hands.

"I found Latrelle," Cesar said as Oscar stopped and turned back to his little brother, "I went to go finish the job,"

"And?" Oscar waited.

Cesar looked away, "the gun jammed,"

Oscar turned back to the car, "you're oh for two. Ain't gonna be number three. Go," Oscar said with finality.

"Where?! I have nowhere to go!" Cesar yelled.

"Not my problem," Oscar said.

"Not your problem?" Cesar had tears in his eyes.

"There's nothing I can do for you. It's not just about you anymore. Everyone you care about is in jeopardy if you stay, so leave, and don't come back" Cesar started walking out.

"You know what, Oscar?" Cesar said walking back, "you should've handled this for me. You're not just my big brother. You're my big homie,"

"Shut the hell up," Oscar walked up to Cesar.

"You could've taken out Latrelle, but instead you sent me! You sent me to do it!" Cesar pushed Oscar away.

"Hey! Do you know what the hell you did? How badly you messed up? Hey." Oscar shook Cesar, "you put me in an impossible situation with Cuchillos,"

"Oscar, please," Cesar hugged Oscar tightly, "I don't know what to do,"

Oscar quickly whispered a plan into his ear before pretending like he was going to leave Cesar out to dry, "hey, hey. I love you, mano. But you're done," Oscar fixed Cesar's clothes, "happy birthday," Cesar started leaving, but Oscar started speaking, "you need to do something bigger than the mess you made,"

Cesar walked back, "what?"

"To undo this, you gotta do something bigger to prove yourself,"

"What if I got you fifty grand?" Cesar asked.

Oscar looked confused, "where are you gonna get cash like that?"

"What if he already had it?" Elizabeth asked.

"I'm listening," Oscar looked at Cesar.

"Our friends found the RollerWorld money. They washed it, including Elizabeth," Cesar said, "it's clean,"

"RollerWorld? Don't shit me!" Oscar spat, but Cesar and Elizabeth shook their heads, "for real? RollerWorld? Is that why your boy kept asking about Lil Ricky?" Cesar nodded, "damn. Damn! How far are you willing to go?" "I'll do anything," Cesar said.

"Then this is what we're going to do. I'll run the plan through Cuchillos. Without a blessing, there is no point in taking the risk. You gotta be incredibly careful. Your friends have to think that you're going away forever. This protects them and if anything happens to you, they won't know you're dead. Make it look like you're leaving. When it's clear, I'll be there. You make contact with the Prophets and I'll exchange your clean money with the marked bills from the Freeridge Savings Heist,"

It was the next day and the plan was in full motion and Elizabeth was away for most of it because she had a shift at the taco joint until four pm. After her shift, she took her penny board and skated to Oscar's house since Ruby and Jamal were there with Oscar and Cesar. She just walked inside and set her stuff down on the couch, walking to the dining room table and putting a hand on Oscar's shoulder.

"You gave out RollerWorld money to the Prophets!" Jamal yelled.

"No, I gave them the marked bills, from the Freeridge Savings robbery," Oscar put down the lime.

"Oh, thank God," Jamal sighed, "for a second, I thought you gave our money away,"

"Nah, nah. I didn't give your money away. You gave your money away. And now it's mine," Oscar held Elizabeth's hand, giving it a kiss, "hola, bebe. How was work?"

"It was good," Elizabeth kissed his bald head, "nothing exciting,"

"Ruby! Turn me to Jamal," Monse's voice sounded through the phone, "am I hearing this correctly? You used all of our money for nothing? Even my 50k?"

"It wasn't for nothing," Jamal argued, "it was for Cesar, and yes, even your 50k," Jamal mocked Monse.

"Turn me to Spooky," Jamal turned the camera to Cesar, "more, I still can see him," Jamal turned it more to face Elizabeth and Spooky, "Hey, Elizabeth. Anyway, Spooky. I did not sign off on my 50 grand of that gift to you. Can you be decent and give it back?"

"No," Spooky smirked.

"This is bullshit," Monse seethed.

"Look on the bright side. Cesar's alive," Oscar smirked at Cesar.

"Hurray! Turn me to him," Monse said sarcastically.

"No, no," Cesar started, but Oscar already turned the phone to him.

"You might be alive, but you're dead to me," Monse said.

"Monse, I am so-" Monse ended the call, "dead,"

"Spooky, do you really think that giving the Prophets a bunch of marked bills was wise? Once one of their guys gets arrested then they'll know it was you. And by extension, us," Ruby said.

Oscar looked at Ruby, weirdly, "they would never connect it to you," Oscar smirked.

"I still don't understand why you needed to cheat us," Jamal said

"I didn't. I did exactly what you wanted. I saved Cesar," Oscar nodded.

"But you knew you were gonna do that before you took our cash," Jamal said.

"And your point is?"

"Taking our money is unscrupulous," Jamal said.

"How many times do I gotta spell this out for you?" Spooky said, annoyed now, "your money is actually my money. It belongs to the Santos,"

"Oh! You really want to play that game? Well, if we get into logistics, it's really Prophets money that you stole from us!" Jamal yelled.

"Well, actually, it's a bunch of random people's money who paid way too much for a bad concert," Ruby reasoned.

"Shalamar's the shit! These people probably didn't pay enough," Jamal said.

"Relax," Oscar said, "we're not gonna forget you helped us,"

"I don't care about your goodwill! I want my money!" Jamal yelled

"But I cooked for you,"

Elizabeth looked at the table and only saw ceviche, "baby, you only did ceviche," she started laughing, "the juices do all the cooking,"

Once Ruby and Jamal left, Elizabeth walked to the refrigerator and pulled out two beers and an iced tea to bring it out to the dining room. She set the drinks down as she sat on Oscar's lap. Everyone cracked their drinks open and cheersed.

"Hey, thank you," Cesar said.

"It was no problem," Oscar had a small smile.

"I'm not talking about the food," Cesar paused, "I don't say this very often, but I, uh,"

Oscar cut him off, "I know,"

"I'm not made for this life, Oscar," Cesar shook his head, "listen to me, please. When that gun jammed, God gave me a second chance. And I can't ignore it,"

"And?" Oscar said.

"And I never want to be a liability to you ever again," there was a brief silence, "I love you, mano, but I am not a killer,"

The three continued on in silence, eating until Cesar excused himself to sleep. After that day, the next couple days have been spent doing multiple homework assignments, work, and sleeping. It was stressful, but Elizabeth felt fine as she was back into her place once she felt safer to go back and not put her mother in danger.

Monse had told Elizabeth about her going into an all girls boarding school after the year was over and she couldn't be more happier for Monse. Elizabeth wanted to ask her what was going on with her and Cesar, but she knew it wasn't her place to ask so she let it go and decided to let them handle it for themselves. It was night time and Elizabeth was hanging out with Cesar, Oscar, and some Santos as Oscar was telling a story. She stood in front of Oscar with his arm around her shoulder, going across her chest as he smoked a cigarette and drank a beer.

"So she pissed the bed," everybody laughed, "you know what my boy, Angel, does? He piss on the bed too," Elizabeth laughed as she scrunched her nose at the details.

The noise stopped when the group caught sight of Monse so Elizabeth smiled at Monse and mouthed good luck as she nudged Oscar to take everyone inside. "Hey," Oscar said to the boys and all of them except for Cesar walked inside.

After a few moments, Cesar came inside and into his room so Elizabeth stood up from the couch, giving Oscar a kiss on the cheek, before whispering in his ear, "I'm gonna check on him,"

Oscar nodded, continuing with his conversation, as Elizabeth walked to Cesar's room to see him with tears going down his cheeks so she sat down and rubbed his back, "What did she say?"

"She said that she forgave me," Cesar sniffled, "but if I did it even when I loved her then what else would I do,"

Elizabeth nodded, "she makes a good point. Look, Cesar, all I can really say is move on and I know it's easier said than done, but one day you're going to be super happy with a girl that you're going to marry. It can be Monse or it won't be, we don't know, but you can't not live your life," that was when Elizabeth softly smiled at the young boy before leaving the room and continuing with the conversation in the living room with her boyfriend and the Santos.

It was the next day and Cesar and Elizabeth were walking out of school when they met up with Jasmine, Monse, Ruby, and Jamal in the front. "The cash, the drugs, the guns, and illegal ferrets. The place was a scene. It was sick!"

"But why are all the Prophets getting arrested?" Ruby asked.

"Remember the robbery at Freeridge Savings? The guys in the monster masks? Well, that money was marked and we've been tracking any money spent. First, we caught Mr. Gutierrez in his liquor store with the dough. Turns out that money was from a customer. And when those marked bills started popping up all around the town right before the Prophets hood day, we were able to trace it right back to them. So now the Prophets are no mas," Jasmine smiled.

"All of them?" Ruby asked.

"Hell, yeah! We took them all down. The Prophets are Donezel Washington,"

"Holy, shit!"

"Actually, check out this link. It's got the best footages," Jasmine showed the phone to them, showing the Prophets sitting on the curb with Latrelle in handcuffs going to the back of the car.

"Yeah. He's going away for a long time," Jasmine put a hand on Ruby as well as look at Elizabeth, "hey, yo, Esteban! Why no call back? I don't send pictures of my chonies to no phonies!"

Everybody turned to the two people that were shot in the group, "how are you guys feeling?"

"I don't know how to explain it, but it feels surreal. I don't understand the violence and all that because we're not worrying about Cesar's life or anything big," Elizabeth sighed.

"We lost sight of the bigger picture. We should be grateful that we have our friends and family with us," Ruby continued, "it's time to move on,"

"Agreed," Monse said, "I'm leaving Freeridge," the guys turned back, "I'm starting boarding school at the end of summer,"

"Wait! Are you serious?" Cesar asked

"Not talking to you," Monse sighed.

"But you forgave me," Cesar said.

"I changed my mind. Anyway, I finally realized that it doesn't matter if any of you are on Team Monse because I'm on team Monse. And that's all I need so...I'm out," Monse shrugged.

There was a silence until Jamal broke it, "ok,"

"Good luck," Ruby said.

"Hope you have a fun time," Elizabeth grinned.

"Ok? Good luck?" Monse said Elizabeth didn't matter to her since she already knew and has been supportive.

"Yeah, you've left before," Ruby said.

"Writing camp, Brentwood," Jamal listed, "this is schmuck bait, you always come back,"

"Not this time," Monse said, "I'm gone for good. Things just aren't the same around here and I think we've outgrown each other,"

"Ruby, what kind of snacks you got at home?" Jamal asked Ruby, "did your mom get that good spinach dip from Costco?"

"No, better. She got the jalapeno artichoke," Ruby grinned.

"Oh! The extra creamy one that you gotta use the thick chips for?" Elizabeth asked, excited.

"She picked those up too!"

"I'm serious!" Monse said aloud.

"So are we! That dip's bomb," Jamal said.

"Are you even listening to me? I'm really out of here, I'm done with the gangs and bullshit and the nonstop drama that you always get me into," Monse accused.

Ruby stuttered, looking around as if she wasn't talking to them, "we get you into?"

Monse mocked him, "yeah."

"Goodbye," Ruby said.

"Uh, no, no, no," Jamal stopped Ruby, "you shouldn't say goodbye. 'Cause I want to. Buh-bye!" Jamal waved.

Elizabeth laughed at their antics, "boys, stop teasing and let's go,"

"Assholes," Monse muttered.

"Hey, hey, hey. Why don't we all take a breath," Cesar tried to defuse the situation.

"Shut up! No one is talking to you!" Monse said.

"Ok," Cesar backed up, "we'll see you when you get back,"

"Yeah, good luck trying to survive on your own. Without me, you guys are done. There'll be no one to save you," Monse motioned to Cesar.

At that moment, Elizabeth zoned out since she already knew what was going to happen with the whole argument, but when Monse finally started walking away, there was a bag thrown over her head as well as the boys and she was thrown into a van. They were screaming Monse's name until they heard Monse's yell too.The group sat at a table during lunch, discussing how they were going to wash the money, but they weren't able to come up with a solution until Jasmine came into the picture. Monse looked at Jasmien in alert, "what are you doing?"

"Chopping it up and chowing it down with my crew!" Jasmine said, "is it my pits? I just switched to natural deodorant," Jasmine smelled her pits as she sat down, "I knew that shit didn't work,"

"We need a rain check," Ruby said.

"Nothing personal, but it's personal," Monse said.

"What's on the agenda? Cleaning some green?" Jasmine looked at Monse, knowingly.

"How do you know?" Jamal asked as Jasmine lifted up his notebook with the exact words of what they were doing as the crew looked at Jamal with a face, "what? I'm a visual thinker,"

"Don't get your chonies in a twist. Ain't nobody worried about a few dollars," Jasmine said, but saw everybody look away, "it's not a few dollars? Are you guys involved with the Freeridge Savings Heist? Don't tell me, I don't wanna know. What you should know is you don't wanna get involved in that shit. It's marked money,"

"Thanks for the useless info dump, but we need to get back to our crisis," Monse turned to Jamal, Ruby, and Elizabeth, "how are we going to clean the money?"

"Money Bunny, Money Bunny," Jasmine sang as Jamal did the beat on the table, "gotta hop to it fast and get your money,"

"Money Bunny is a shitty company that takes advantage of people who have no other way to get money from one place to another. It's a racket and-" Monse stopped in realization, "a great idea!"

"Yes! Outgoing dinero, incoming clean clams! Minus the three percent fee, scrub-a-dub, bitches!" Jasmine yelled out.

"Ok, I'm not following," Ruby said.

"Ok, say Jamal want to help a certain fashion challenged friend new fits," Jasmine coughed out Monse's name, "Money Bunny takes his hundie and they give Jamal a code. Then Jamal gives the code to monoboob Monse, takes it to the store and, bam! She's got 100 bucks to ditch the sports bra and buy some lace. Underwires your friend, girl," Jasmine booped Monse's nose.

"But wire fraud. That's a felony that carries at least five years," Ruby said

"I'm in," Monse said.

"Me too," Jamal nodded.

"Me three," Elizabeth shrugged, "I just want Cesar to be safe,"

"Do you want this nightmare to stop?" Monse asked Ruby as he nodded, "then we go big or Cesar never goes home,"

Ruby nodded, "I'm in,"

"Damn! You guys are ride or die! But you still gotta be 18 to send and receive the dough, so you guys got some fake IDs? No, no, no. Don't tell me. I'm law enforcement," Jasmine shook her head.

"But you just taught us how to commit wire fraud," Jamal said, confused.

"Because, sometimes, I like to get dirty and straddle things, like the line. I'm a complicated woman, Jamal," Jasmine sat up.

"Which means you probably know how to get a fake ID," Elizabeth smirked.

"No!" Jasmine scoffed, "no way, I don't. But Mona Mardukas has a guy," Jasmine held out her fake ID as everyone smirked.

It was after school and they went to a house that Jasmine guided them to. They knocked on the door and a Hispanic man answered the door as Jamal screamed no as if it was the end of the world.

"You want three IDs?" the man asked.

"I texted you. We need four," Jasmine said.

"I only see three people,"

"Oh, don't act like you don't see me standing here, Chivo!" Jamal scoffed.

"I'm ghosting you," Chivo sang

"Chivo? As in Chivo Chivo?" Elizabeth asked, causing Jamal to hum.

"No. Chivo as in Chivo Ramirez,"

After everyone got their IDs and got home, Elizabeth did all her homework during her electives and was able to get a week off so she had some time to hang out with her friends and Oscar. She unlocked her door to see Oscar inside sitting on the couch so she smiled and sat down next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder, "how was your day?" "It was good, mamita," Oscar grinned, "better now that you're here with me. How was hanging out with your friends?"

"It was good. Didn't really do much except talk and stuff," Elizabeth stood up with her hand out, "c'mon, let's go bake some stuff since I got a week off from both Dwayne's and the taco joint,"

"You did? Good. You need a break," Oscar stood up, kissing her head.

The two were in the kitchen trying to make cookies, but it ended up with a flour fight and music playing as they danced around the kitchen. They didn't hear the door unlock as her mother walked in, pushing her father inside. The parents watched as the two danced with flour all over their hair, face, and clothes, Leticia with tears in her eyes as she saw the pure love between the two and Armando with a look of approval once he saw the look in Oscar's eyes.

The couple saw the parents and jumped away from each other as if they were caught doing something bad. Elizabeth saw the tears coming down her mother's face, "ma? What's wrong?"

Leticia laughed, "nothing, mija, nothing at all,"

Elizabeth looked in concern, but looked around her as well, "oh... we will clean this up right now. Oscar! Start cleaning,"

Oscar looked at Elizabeth weirdly, "you start cleaning too then!"

It was after school the next day and the crew went to get the money in so they could get clean money. Jasmine and Monse went inside a Money Bunny to get the money as Ruby, Jamal, and Elizabeth waited outside. The two girls came out and motioned for the boys and girl to follow so they followed and Monse pulled out the cash. It worked. So now they were on their way back when Prophets rolled up.

"Hey, Monse!" A voice called out, "where is that bitch ass boyfriend of yours at?"

"We already know he ain't at your pops spot no more, so where he at, then?" The Prophet asked then the group chuckled, "yeah, and we already know what's up with you, Ruby and Elizabeth...bang!" The four flinched, "santo killer, though."

Everyone was at home except for Elizabeth and Ruby. Elizabeth went to Oscar's place while Ruby went to Chivo's place. When Elizabeth arrived at Oscar's place, she ran inside and started hyperventilating. Sad Eyes, Rico, and Lorca were there while Oscar was out doing some things for the Santos so they quickly grabbed her and put her on the couch. Elizabeth wouldn't stop until Sad Eyes went up to her and held her cheeks.

"Hermanita, you need to slow your breathing. Follow me," Elizabeth nodded and tried to follow Sad Eyes breathes until she finally calmed down, "now, tell us what happened."

"I-i-i was with my friends and-and-and the P-Prophets rolled up on us and they knew m-my name! They knew me and h-how I got shot and when is this going to end! Guys, I just want all of us out of here and in a place where we don't have to worry about this!" Elizabeth ranted as the door opened and Oscar walked in to see Elizabeth crying.

He dropped everything and kneeled in front of Elizabeth, "hey, hey, babe. What happened? Who did this?"

"I just want everything to stop," Elizabeth let the tears roll down her cheek, "all this violence and everything. I want us out of here. You, Cesar, my friends, Sad Eyes, Rico, Lorca. I just want us out,"

"Ok, ok, ok," Oscar cooed at his lover, "one day we are going to have a house and you're going to be an athletic trainer and I'm going to be doing whatever job that will hire me. We can get one big house with everybody inside, including your ma and pops. One day, we are going to have it all,"

It was the next two weeks and Elizabeth stayed with Oscar those weeks as the two just held each other at night, not knowing what was going to happen the next day. Ruby and Jamal texted her asking where she was at so she just replied that she was with Oscar, but they told her that Monse didn't go to school. Elizabeth went to Monse's house with snacks and things as the two cried after Ruby and Jamal left.

Night fell and she went back to Oscar's place to see him working on his car so she went behind him and wrapped her arms around him. He continued doing what he was doing, but stopped as he heard footsteps so he quickly pulled Elizabeth between him and the car while pointing his gun to see Cesar panting. Elizabeth sighed out a breath of relief and ran to hug the boy that was like a brother to her.

Oscar grimaced while tucking the gun away, "get outta here,"

"I need protection," Cesar said.

"You came to the wrong place," Oscar said, wiping his hands.

"I found Latrelle," Cesar said as Oscar stopped and turned back to his little brother, "I went to go finish the job,"

"And?" Oscar waited.

Cesar looked away, "the gun jammed,"

Oscar turned back to the car, "you're oh for two. Ain't gonna be number three. Go," Oscar said with finality.

"Where?! I have nowhere to go!" Cesar yelled.

"Not my problem," Oscar said.

"Not your problem?" Cesar had tears in his eyes.

"There's nothing I can do for you. It's not just about you anymore. Everyone you care about is in jeopardy if you stay, so leave, and don't come back" Cesar started walking out.

"You know what, Oscar?" Cesar said walking back, "you should've handled this for me. You're not just my big brother. You're my big homie,"

"Shut the hell up," Oscar walked up to Cesar.

"You could've taken out Latrelle, but instead you sent me! You sent me to do it!" Cesar pushed Oscar away.

"Hey! Do you know what the hell you did? How badly you messed up? Hey." Oscar shook Cesar, "you put me in an impossible situation with Cuchillos,"

"Oscar, please," Cesar hugged Oscar tightly, "I don't know what to do,"

Oscar quickly whispered a plan into his ear before pretending like he was going to leave Cesar out to dry, "hey, hey. I love you, mano. But you're done," Oscar fixed Cesar's clothes, "happy birthday," Cesar started leaving, but Oscar started speaking, "you need to do something bigger than the mess you made,"

Cesar walked back, "what?"

"To undo this, you gotta do something bigger to prove yourself,"

"What if I got you fifty grand?" Cesar asked.

Oscar looked confused, "where are you gonna get cash like that?"

"What if he already had it?" Elizabeth asked.

"I'm listening," Oscar looked at Cesar.

"Our friends found the RollerWorld money. They washed it, including Elizabeth," Cesar said, "it's clean,"

"RollerWorld? Don't shit me!" Oscar spat, but Cesar and Elizabeth shook their heads, "for real? RollerWorld? Is that why your boy kept asking about Lil Ricky?" Cesar nodded, "damn. Damn! How far are you willing to go?" "I'll do anything," Cesar said.

"Then this is what we're going to do. I'll run the plan through Cuchillos. Without a blessing, there is no point in taking the risk. You gotta be incredibly careful. Your friends have to think that you're going away forever. This protects them and if anything happens to you, they won't know you're dead. Make it look like you're leaving. When it's clear, I'll be there. You make contact with the Prophets and I'll exchange your clean money with the marked bills from the Freeridge Savings Heist,"

It was the next day and the plan was in full motion and Elizabeth was away for most of it because she had a shift at the taco joint until four pm. After her shift, she took her penny board and skated to Oscar's house since Ruby and Jamal were there with Oscar and Cesar. She just walked inside and set her stuff down on the couch, walking to the dining room table and putting a hand on Oscar's shoulder.

"You gave out RollerWorld money to the Prophets!" Jamal yelled.

"No, I gave them the marked bills, from the Freeridge Savings robbery," Oscar put down the lime.

"Oh, thank God," Jamal sighed, "for a second, I thought you gave our money away,"

"Nah, nah. I didn't give your money away. You gave your money away. And now it's mine," Oscar held Elizabeth's hand, giving it a kiss, "hola, bebe. How was work?"

"It was good," Elizabeth kissed his bald head, "nothing exciting,"

"Ruby! Turn me to Jamal," Monse's voice sounded through the phone, "am I hearing this correctly? You used all of our money for nothing? Even my 50k?"

"It wasn't for nothing," Jamal argued, "it was for Cesar, and yes, even your 50k," Jamal mocked Monse.

"Turn me to Spooky," Jamal turned the camera to Cesar, "more, I still can see him," Jamal turned it more to face Elizabeth and Spooky, "Hey, Elizabeth. Anyway, Spooky. I did not sign off on my 50 grand of that gift to you. Can you be decent and give it back?"

"No," Spooky smirked.

"This is bullshit," Monse seethed.

"Look on the bright side. Cesar's alive," Oscar smirked at Cesar.

"Hurray! Turn me to him," Monse said sarcastically.

"No, no," Cesar started, but Oscar already turned the phone to him.

"You might be alive, but you're dead to me," Monse said.

"Monse, I am so-" Monse ended the call, "dead,"

"Spooky, do you really think that giving the Prophets a bunch of marked bills was wise? Once one of their guys gets arrested then they'll know it was you. And by extension, us," Ruby said.

Oscar looked at Ruby, weirdly, "they would never connect it to you," Oscar smirked.

"I still don't understand why you needed to cheat us," Jamal said

"I didn't. I did exactly what you wanted. I saved Cesar," Oscar nodded.

"But you knew you were gonna do that before you took our cash," Jamal said.

"And your point is?"

"Taking our money is unscrupulous," Jamal said.

"How many times do I gotta spell this out for you?" Spooky said, annoyed now, "your money is actually my money. It belongs to the Santos,"

"Oh! You really want to play that game? Well, if we get into logistics, it's really Prophets money that you stole from us!" Jamal yelled.

"Well, actually, it's a bunch of random people's money who paid way too much for a bad concert," Ruby reasoned.

"Shalamar's the shit! These people probably didn't pay enough," Jamal said.

"Relax," Oscar said, "we're not gonna forget you helped us,"

"I don't care about your goodwill! I want my money!" Jamal yelled

"But I cooked for you,"

Elizabeth looked at the table and only saw ceviche, "baby, you only did ceviche," she started laughing, "the juices do all the cooking,"

Once Ruby and Jamal left, Elizabeth walked to the refrigerator and pulled out two beers and an iced tea to bring it out to the dining room. She set the drinks down as she sat on Oscar's lap. Everyone cracked their drinks open and cheersed.

"Hey, thank you," Cesar said.

"It was no problem," Oscar had a small smile.

"I'm not talking about the food," Cesar paused, "I don't say this very often, but I, uh,"

Oscar cut him off, "I know,"

"I'm not made for this life, Oscar," Cesar shook his head, "listen to me, please. When that gun jammed, God gave me a second chance. And I can't ignore it,"

"And?" Oscar said.

"And I never want to be a liability to you ever again," there was a brief silence, "I love you, mano, but I am not a killer,"

The three continued on in silence, eating until Cesar excused himself to sleep. After that day, the next couple days have been spent doing multiple homework assignments, work, and sleeping. It was stressful, but Elizabeth felt fine as she was back into her place once she felt safer to go back and not put her mother in danger.

Monse had told Elizabeth about her going into an all girls boarding school after the year was over and she couldn't be more happier for Monse. Elizabeth wanted to ask her what was going on with her and Cesar, but she knew it wasn't her place to ask so she let it go and decided to let them handle it for themselves. It was night time and Elizabeth was hanging out with Cesar, Oscar, and some Santos as Oscar was telling a story. She stood in front of Oscar with his arm around her shoulder, going across her chest as he smoked a cigarette and drank a beer.

"So she pissed the bed," everybody laughed, "you know what my boy, Angel, does? He piss on the bed too," Elizabeth laughed as she scrunched her nose at the details.

The noise stopped when the group caught sight of Monse so Elizabeth smiled at Monse and mouthed good luck as she nudged Oscar to take everyone inside. "Hey," Oscar said to the boys and all of them except for Cesar walked inside.

After a few moments, Cesar came inside and into his room so Elizabeth stood up from the couch, giving Oscar a kiss on the cheek, before whispering in his ear, "I'm gonna check on him,"

Oscar nodded, continuing with his conversation, as Elizabeth walked to Cesar's room to see him with tears going down his cheeks so she sat down and rubbed his back, "What did she say?"

"She said that she forgave me," Cesar sniffled, "but if I did it even when I loved her then what else would I do,"

Elizabeth nodded, "she makes a good point. Look, Cesar, all I can really say is move on and I know it's easier said than done, but one day you're going to be super happy with a girl that you're going to marry. It can be Monse or it won't be, we don't know, but you can't not live your life," that was when Elizabeth softly smiled at the young boy before leaving the room and continuing with the conversation in the living room with her boyfriend and the Santos.

It was the next day and Cesar and Elizabeth were walking out of school when they met up with Jasmine, Monse, Ruby, and Jamal in the front. "The cash, the drugs, the guns, and illegal ferrets. The place was a scene. It was sick!"

"But why are all the Prophets getting arrested?" Ruby asked.

"Remember the robbery at Freeridge Savings? The guys in the monster masks? Well, that money was marked and we've been tracking any money spent. First, we caught Mr. Gutierrez in his liquor store with the dough. Turns out that money was from a customer. And when those marked bills started popping up all around the town right before the Prophets hood day, we were able to trace it right back to them. So now the Prophets are no mas," Jasmine smiled.

"All of them?" Ruby asked.

"Hell, yeah! We took them all down. The Prophets are Donezel Washington,"

"Holy, shit!"

"Actually, check out this link. It's got the best footages," Jasmine showed the phone to them, showing the Prophets sitting on the curb with Latrelle in handcuffs going to the back of the car.

"Yeah. He's going away for a long time," Jasmine put a hand on Ruby as well as look at Elizabeth, "hey, yo, Esteban! Why no call back? I don't send pictures of my chonies to no phonies!"

Everybody turned to the two people that were shot in the group, "how are you guys feeling?"

"I don't know how to explain it, but it feels surreal. I don't understand the violence and all that because we're not worrying about Cesar's life or anything big," Elizabeth sighed.

"We lost sight of the bigger picture. We should be grateful that we have our friends and family with us," Ruby continued, "it's time to move on,"

"Agreed," Monse said, "I'm leaving Freeridge," the guys turned back, "I'm starting boarding school at the end of summer,"

"Wait! Are you serious?" Cesar asked

"Not talking to you," Monse sighed.

"But you forgave me," Cesar said.

"I changed my mind. Anyway, I finally realized that it doesn't matter if any of you are on Team Monse because I'm on team Monse. And that's all I need so...I'm out," Monse shrugged.

There was a silence until Jamal broke it, "ok,"

"Good luck," Ruby said.

"Hope you have a fun time," Elizabeth grinned.

"Ok? Good luck?" Monse said Elizabeth didn't matter to her since she already knew and has been supportive.

"Yeah, you've left before," Ruby said.

"Writing camp, Brentwood," Jamal listed, "this is schmuck bait, you always come back,"

"Not this time," Monse said, "I'm gone for good. Things just aren't the same around here and I think we've outgrown each other,"

"Ruby, what kind of snacks you got at home?" Jamal asked Ruby, "did your mom get that good spinach dip from Costco?"

"No, better. She got the jalapeno artichoke," Ruby grinned.

"Oh! The extra creamy one that you gotta use the thick chips for?" Elizabeth asked, excited.

"She picked those up too!"

"I'm serious!" Monse said aloud.

"So are we! That dip's bomb," Jamal said.

"Are you even listening to me? I'm really out of here, I'm done with the gangs and bullshit and the nonstop drama that you always get me into," Monse accused.

Ruby stuttered, looking around as if she wasn't talking to them, "we get you into?"

Monse mocked him, "yeah."

"Goodbye," Ruby said.

"Uh, no, no, no," Jamal stopped Ruby, "you shouldn't say goodbye. 'Cause I want to. Buh-bye!" Jamal waved.

Elizabeth laughed at their antics, "boys, stop teasing and let's go,"

"Assholes," Monse muttered.

"Hey, hey, hey. Why don't we all take a breath," Cesar tried to defuse the situation.

"Shut up! No one is talking to you!" Monse said.

"Ok," Cesar backed up, "we'll see you when you get back,"

"Yeah, good luck trying to survive on your own. Without me, you guys are done. There'll be no one to save you," Monse motioned to Cesar.

At that moment, Elizabeth zoned out since she already knew what was going to happen with the whole argument, but when Monse finally started walking away, there was a bag thrown over her head as well as the boys and she was thrown into a van. They were screaming Monse's name until they heard Monse's yell too.

@moneybagmara​

@sesamepancakes​

@pinky369​

[multismarvel]

Help – Part Two (Oscar Diaz)

tw– blood, shooting

By the time the ambulances came, you were unconscious. You were barely breathing anyway and when you did, they came out in long, dragged breaths. Blood was seeping out of your chest and if it wasn’t for the just about noticeable movement of your breathing, it looked like you were dead. But you weren’t yet.

“Please, help her,” Cesar begged as the paramedics wheeled you into the ambulance. He couldn’t live with the fact you died because of him. You couldn’t die. He needed you. Oscar needed you.

“We’ll try our best, kid,” the paramedic told him. “What’s your relation to this woman, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Brother,” Cesar replies without a beat, joining your barely conscious body and the paramedic onto the ambulance. “I’m her brother.”

The paramedic began the attempt to save your life and the shock of it all was really beginning to hit Cesar. He couldn’t sit here and watch you die.

Your heart rate began to slow and the lines representing your heart beat on the screen got lower and lower. Cesar didn’t know much but he knew enough to realise that wasn’t good. You had to pull through. Your life couldn’t end here. If it wasn’t for the cardioversion that the paramedic used to resuscitate you, who knew what would’ve happened? You were knocking on death’s door and Cesar had never been so scared.

The nurses wheeled you away as soon as they got on the hospital grounds to perform surgery. Ceser was left in the reception, alone and afraid with only his thoughts to help ease his mind but they didn’t. He was by no means a religious person but he was praying to whoever existed up above that you survived the surgery. And Olivia. And Ruby. Three deaths were going to be on his conscience. He was well aware that Oscar wouldn’t even consider forgiving him if you died.

Oscar. Only God knew how badly he’d take all of this. Cesar was an obvious physical wreck at the moment but he knew Oscar wouldn’t show how it affected him. He always had to put on a front but Cesar didn’t think he’d be able to hold it well once he found out about you.

Getting his phone out of his pocket, Cesar called his brother.

“Mano, what’s up?”

As soon as he heard Oscar’s voice, Cesar cried hard, his chest convulsing with powerful sobs. How could he let his brother down? How could he let you down? Tonight was supposed to be the best night for everyone and now because of one action he made, it was the worst.

“Hey, hey calm down.” Oscar’s voice was gentle though Cesar knew he was worried. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s my fault, it’s all my fault,” weeped Cesar. “She’s going to die because of me.”

Oscar immediately knew the she in question was you. He didn’t know what happened or why or how but he knew something was wrong. He hoped Cesar wasn’t calling from the hospital and that he was just being melodramatic as usual. For once, Oscar wanted his gut feeling to be wrong. He couldn’t lose you.

“Where are you right now?” Oscar questioned.

“The hospital,” Cesar sniffed. The feeling of guilt in his body increased every second.

“I’ll meet you there. Don’t leave and don’t contact anybody,” Oscar demanded before hanging up.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Dread, anxiety and fear filled Oscar’s body. He was a gang member – a gang leader even and he’d never felt so afraid than in that moment. He even felt something was wrong seeing Cesar’s name flash across his phone. He felt it deep inside and it took over his being. As long as he lived he would never forget that feeling. He’d worked so hard to stay away from you to keep you safe and it’d done the complete opposite. Guilt wrecked his body. It could’ve been a different story if he was there. He would take a bullet for you without hesitation any day – even if it meant he’d die.

If you woke up, and judging by Cesar’s cries that seemed like a hard if, Oscar would get you out of the hood. He’d give you money, he’d threaten you to leave, he’d do what he had to. It was too dangerous for you to be in Freeridge. You were in a safe place with people you trusted yet you were still in danger. It wasn’t only the people but the place too and he’d make sure you were away once you were back in good health.

The drive over to the hospital was no doubt the longest drive Oscar’s ever and he was speeding the whole way. He was so frightened he’d get a call about you. He was more afraid that when he saw Cesar, he’d tell him that you were dead. His heart felt like it was going to burst if it beat any harder.

“How is she?” Oscar asked when he saw Cesar.

“They haven’t said anything yet,” Cesar told him.

“How did this happen?” Oscar thought back to what Cesar said. ‘It’s my fault.’

Cesar sniffled, “I didn’t kill Latrell. Then he came by the party. Ruby and Olivia got shot.” He choked out your name. “She got in the way and tried to save them.”

“You fucking what?” Oscar seethed. “I gave you one job and you couldn’t even do that? You could’ve killed the kid. Now he’s coming for the people you care about.”

“I don’t want to be a murderer,” Cesar said. “I just wanted to have a normal night with my friends.”

“You’d better hope they all pull through,” Oscar told him. “Otherwise it’s on you.”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Cesar admitted truthfully. All he wanted to do was be a good person and it backfired in a way he never anticipated.

“What did you think was going to happen?” Oscar challenged. “He was a Prophet. We’re Santos. Obviously he was going to come back to finish the job. The job that you were supposed to get done.”

Gang affiliations and orders always took precedence over what people wanted to do. It didn’t matter if Cesar wanted to be a good person. He was a part of the Santos and as a result of that he was supposed to kill a Prophet who threatened him. A threat to one member of the Santos was a threat to all of them. Now Oscar was going to lose the love of his life and for what?

It still seemed so surreal. Neither Oscar or Cesar knew when you’d be out of surgery or if you’d even make it. They didn’t want to hear from the nurse that you died on the operating table. Oscar had lost enough people he cared about like that and didn’t plan on adding you to the list.

“Was it bad?” Oscar inquired about your injuries.

“Oscar...” Cesar trailed off. He didn’t want to put his brother through more anguish.

“Just tell me,” Oscar pleaded softly.

Cesar nodded silently, sitting down. “It was bad.” He shut his eyes and shuddered as the memory of you getting gunned down flashed back into his mind. “If I could’ve taken those bullets I would have.”

“I know.” Oscar sat down next to him. He couldn’t be angry with Cesar – not right now anyway. They were both hurt and confused about what was going on. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

The two of them stayed side by side all night. Hours and hours passed by. Cesar answered calls and texts from everyone and informed them about you being in surgery. He’d also found out Olivia and Ruby were in the same situation as you and hoped they were alright too. The suspense was all too much and it didn’t help they couldn’t see you.

A nurse walked to them and said your name. At last.

Oscar’s head rose up immediately and Cesar’s heart broke seeing the glint of hope in his eyes. The last bit of hope Oscar had depended on you being alive and after that everything was lost. Oscar would never be the same without you around.

“Is she okay? Can we see her? How is she?” Oscar questioned.

“She’s okay,” the nurse confirmed and the two brothers breathed a sigh of relief. “Only family members can come in. I was informed one is her brother but who is the other?”

“Husband,” Cesar supplied. “He’s her husband and I’m her brother in law.”

Oscar would’ve given Cesar an incredulous look but he didn’t want to give anything away so he went along with it. “She’s my wife. I just want to see that she’s alright.”

“Follow me,” the nurse ordered. The three of them took a quick walk to the room where you were. “She’s on pain meds so she may be in and out of consciousness. Try not to make the conversation too heavy.” She pointed to the room you were in and made her way back to the reception.

Oscar’s heart was racing and he felt so nervous. Part of him wanted you to never leave his side and the other part of him wanted you to leave Freeridge and be safe. You deserved to be safe and not worry about yourself or the people you loved.

“You see her first.” Oscar pushed Cesar towards your room.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Cesar walked to your room and felt his heart swell with emotion as soon as he saw you. His eyes welled up with tears all over again.

“Cesar,” you called out his name, ignoring the ache in your chest. You’d been conscious for a little while but with the help of the meds, it’d helped drastically.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologised, sitting in the chair next to your bed. He held your hand. “I can’t believe this even happened. Will you forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” you dismissed. “I don’t blame you at all.”

Cesar’s tensed shoulders had sagged slightly at that comment. He was relaxing. He needed to hear that from you.

“We didn’t think you were going to make it,” Cesar spoke. “There was so much blood, God, I was so scared. I’m really relieved you’re here. Alive.”

“Me too.” You didn’t have the best life but you didn’t want to die. There was still so much time ahead and so much life left to live. You didn’t want to be robbed of that.

“Oscar’s here too,” Cesar told you.

“Oh.” You didn’t know what to say. Even in your drugged, weak state you’d wondered why he didn’t come and see you when you looked good. Instead he was here to see you dressed up in a hospital gown with gauze and scars on your chest. “That’s good. I know you guys must’ve been worried sick.”

“He won’t admit it but he was really scared,” Cesar said. “He doesn’t want to lose you. He loves you.”

That might’ve been true but you still wondered. Oscar was so closed off it made you question things. It made you want to be around him more and it made you care more when it should’ve been the opposite. You were baffled and hurt but still in love. Just like he was.

“He’s like right outside. I’m going to get him now.”

Before you could argue otherwise, though you’d wondered why he hadn’t come first, Cesar went to get his brother. When Oscar came in it was like the tension couldn’t have even been cut by a knife. No one knew how to react and everyone was anticipating what was going to happen next. Cesar pat his brother’s back in a show of encouragement before leaving the room. He’d probably go visit Monse and the others.

Oscar welcomed the feeling of relief when he saw your body. Words couldn’t explain how he felt knowing you were alive. His knees would’ve buckled in shock if he wasn’t so good at keeping up his facade. You were here, living and breathing and Oscar would do whatever it took to ensure it stayed that way.

“Uh, hey.” Oscar slowly made his way to the seat once occupied by Cesar.

“Hey,” you repeated back. All these emotions you felt were all so sudden and made you feel drowsy. No way were you going unconscious now.

“I, uh.” Oscar knew what he wanted to say. He wasn’t ready for the emotion that would come with it. You always told him to be more open and honest with his emotions. “That was scary.”

“It was,” you agreed, knowing that even if Oscar didn’t talk much that his mind was racing with thoughts and questions. “But I’m okay. You don’t have to worry now.”

“Don’t I?” Oscar thought otherwise. “I kept away from you to keep you safe and this is what happens. You’re not okay. I think you should leave Freeridge once you’re better. Move to a safe area.”

“Are you serious?” You hissed, not being able to shout. “I’ve just woken up and this is what you’re telling me?”

“What did you want me to do? Get on my knees and confess my dying love for you? That would only make you stay.” Oscar snapped. “You’re not safe here and if this happens again, you might not be as lucky.”

“Why are you being like this?” You snapped back. “Why can’t you just be nice for once? Couldn’t this conversation waited til I got out of hospital?”

“Look, the best chance you have is leaving this place and making something for yourself,” Oscar told you. “You’re not going to find what you need in Freeridge.”

You shut your eyes and sighed. “If you’re going to rebuff my non-existent advances again, quit while you’re ahead.”

“Why do you have to be so stubborn?” Oscar’s tone wasn’t annoyed like it usually was. It was softer as if he’d accepted defeat.

“Why do you have to be in denial?” You asked.

It was Oscar’s turn to sigh. “Stop. Don’t do this. Not now.”

“Oh, come on.” You gave a small smile. “You have to answer my questions. I was shot twice after all. You’re not going to add salt on the wound, are you?”

Oscar kept his eyes on you the whole time. You were expecting him to break away but he wasn’t one to back down from confrontation.

“Tell me how you really feel about me and if you’re lying, and I’ll know, then I’ll leave and you’ll never have to see me ever again.”

Oscar’s stomach lurched in fear at those words. That part of him he’d pushed away that wanted to spend his life with you was getting harder and harder to override. He wanted to be the first thought in your mind when you woke up and the last before you went to bed. He wanted to wake up with you in the morning and go to sleep with you at night. Jealousy erupted in him at the mere thought of someone else getting to share their life with you.

“Fine, I don’t like you.”

“Try again.”

“I just want what’s best for you,” Oscar confessed. “I can’t stand being away from you but I’m scared of what will happen if I’m with you. If you were ever in this situation because of me, I’m not sure I could handle that.”

“That’s not your decision to make,” you echoed your words from a few weeks earlier. “Why don’t you let yourself be happy?”

“Why don’t you just give up on me? Everyone else has,” Oscar pointed out.

“Because I love you,” you told him, grabbing his hand. “I love you, Oscar, and I have done ever since freshman year. I know you love me too and I know we can be something really good and you keep fighting me. It’s okay to feel, Oscar, good and bad and it’s okay to love. It can be scary but it’s good. I’m falling really hard for you and I want you there to catch me.”

“What if you want out one day?” Oscar voiced his thoughts.

“I won’t,” you insisted.

“But what if?” Oscar repeated. “You might not feel the same way all the time.”

“I will never stop loving you,” you promised him. “The same way you never stopped loving me and wanting to keep me safe.”

“I love you,” Oscar started, “but-”

“But nothing,” you stopped him. “I lived a life without you and I don’t want to do that anymore. You deserve to happy. We both do.”

“You really want this? Me?” Oscar quizzed you again just to be sure.

You rolled your eyes. “My outpouring of love wasn’t enough?”

“I don’t want to mess this up,” Oscar admitted. “I’ve hurt you enough and I don’t want to do that anymore.”

“So be with me,” you told him. “Love me. Stay by my side because I can’t spend another second without you.”

Oscar kissed your hand and your heart swelled at the act. “Okay, I will. I won’t fuck this up, I promise.”

“I believe you.” Truth be told, you believed him with every fibre of your being. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

In that moment Oscar Diaz was the love of your life and nothing could ruin that for the both of you. Your new life was beginning and because you were getting to spend it with Oscar, you never wanted it to end.

[mychemicalaromanticism]

things ive already established r on this post

besties this got so fucking long but heres a giant ramble about cherri

okay so. there are huge differences betwn cherri as a hyperviolent drac hunter and cherri as a friend of the four and cherri as the girls mentor. with the first one he was 17 and desperate to distance himself from his upbringing so he went all in on Being A Killjoy. he was always one of the first ppl to rush into a fight and he fought hard. he blew up his fuckin hand with that attitude. and all the while he was just racking up more unaddressed trauma and eventually he ran away from that, too. giving himself radiation poisoning was more appealing than facing his problems.

so as a teenager/young adult hes kind of constantly in a panicked state. hes scared the people from his past are going to find him and drag him back with them. so he lashes out and he runs away over and over again.

i said in another post that he has some past life shit goin on which usually would give him a connection to the witch that manifests early in life, but with all the stuff hes gone through he has been Preoccupied. he can become oblivious to almost anything that doesnt apply to whatever hes focused on. not in a hyperfocus way its likeeeeee. when u live on survival mode during prolonged periods of stress. hes immune to magic bullshit bc hes too tired and scared.

anyways around his mid-20s he finally has a little more stability (as much as the average person living in the zones can have, that is) and he finally notices that Weird Stuff happens around him. basically: out of my list of Powers People Connected To The Witch Have he has the prophetic dreams/enhanced intuition as well as a form of sensing ghosts where he can see auras and kind of like, echoes of past events in ppls lives. that look like auras. itz complicated and not of utmost importance so im leaving it at that.

anyways thats what makes him start writing poetry. just 4 funsies he'll describe his weird experiences and embellish them to make em pretty. just as a casual hobby n all that.

he would forget fun ghoul in between the times they ran into each other but its pretty easy to be reminded of who fun ghoul is. the most insane 10 year old cherri has ever met. cherri isnt a brother figure to ghoul. hes just. his friend that happens to be more than twice his age. its whatever lmao

to cherri, ghoul is kinda like a stray animal he keeps seeing. which is hilarious. ghoul actually goes and finds him to introduce him to jet when they start running together, and cherri meets party and kobra (spark and birdie at the time) when he drives the four of them to a party. because he has a truck hell yeah. so now instead of one stray animal he has, like, a feral cat colony that he drives around occasionally. i have no real-life human relationship equivalent to them because irl if some guy that is not related to any of you and isnt even a childhood or family friend and theyre hanging out with you? they are usually not a safe person lmao. but this is my fantasy land and im too stubborn to change anyones birth years even though ghoul being born in 2004 makes everything really hard to make not creepy.

so yeah hes a casual somewhat friend of the fab four. hed probably get more and more concerned as they got famous. the beginnings of any sort of protective feelings, awww :) that sets him up for becoming the girls mentor.

OH FUCK. THE GIRL..... i think if i was in my late 20s and i heard that the gang of 13-17 year olds had adopted a 5 year old kid i would go bananas. what the fuck. it is a LONG while before cherri meets her. but he has the strongest affection for ghoul (if you could even call it that) and ghoul absolutely adores the girl and swings her around under her arms like a cat to show her off to cherri and its very endearing and the girl is sweet and funny so its easy to be around her. and (unfortunately) she is somewhat used to interacting with weird easily agitated people so she kinda gives him space. cherri isnt quite the uncle figure the fandom usually makes him (i luv uncle cherri sm but he simply cannot exist in the universe ive created, f), but hes a little similar.

and then the four had to go and pretend to die. lol.

when the girl was kidnapped, fucking everyone who knew her was ready to storm the city then and there. like regardless of how little you knew her, if you had ever met her you would fucking die for her. she is pure childish charisma and shes precious. i love the girl. so cherris immediately on board with whatever plan the four make to get her back. ive already talked abt how it fucked up the girl tho; there was no way to tell her that the four werent actually dead, she sees the building collapse and she shuts down. and cherri has to fight against his instinct to leave the radio station and never come back when he sees an eight year old girl sitting dissociated on the couch. that fucks everyone up.

i just realized i havent talked about literally anyone else at the radio station. i think cherri started lingering around the station bc it was safe and sheltered while also not being a popular spot. there are less kids there (people pass through but its not a hangout spot). he was kind of just hanging around to get away from the heat and noise and dr d took notice. because that man can see ur soul and no one knows if thats literal or not. so theyd chat a few times a day and show pony was the one 2 get him out of his shell a little and also was the first one he mentioned his poetry hobby to. im making this all up right now as im writing bc i dont know anything about LITERALLY any of the ppl associated w the radio like im not even going 2 try with chimp n newsie i do not have the willpower to tackle all that. justttt. cherri pony n D become bros and live 2gether there.

back 2 the regular timeline. the rescue mission happens in 2019. the girl lives at the station until 2023. during that time she is very much depressed and withdrawn and is only happy when the four come to visit. none of the Adults know how to help her so they just keep her safe and cared for and hope she'll open up to them.

she does not. she takes the weird cat thats been hanging around and she runs away.

cherri does not see her for three years. shes still worse for wear in the mental health department and he can see all kinds of visions of what shes been through since the last time he saw her and he fucking hates the ultra vs bc they remind him of his past. he does not want her going down that path but its obvious that she isnt crazy abt the ultraviolence thing either so thats a relief.

they have a kind of tense relationship throughout the comics. he feels like he failed her and that spirals into feeling like he failed the four for not being a good adult to them and fun ghoul for not helping enough when his commune was bombed and all kinds of shit and that irrational thinking mixed with plain old, yknow, caring about the girl, is what makes him take a bullet (laser. whatever) for her.

i was trying to figure out the timing of each of their ghost experiences, but i want both of them to talk to the witch and im just gonna make it like dreams where a whole buncha stuff happens but irl its been like seconds. so its like barely a second while the girl has her Witch Convo and cherri FINALLY gets a straight answer, yes there is weird shit going on with him having powers. he doesnt have any story-significant past lives because im lazy, hes just an old soul. like really fuckin old. the amount of latent life experience and stuff his soul/energy/whatever has picked up along the way makes him VERY noticeable to gods n stuff. he fuckin lights up all the alarms like what the FUCK is that over there. she wasnt rly able to get to him or even properly notice him while he was a kid and a young adult so shes happy to finally see him again. he has a STRONG sense of familiarity with her. they know each other on a wild ass level that he cant really comprehend.

welp thats some more lore I'll have 2 think abt. anywayz

post canon is when he and val get to have the most awkward spiderman meme moment of realizing that they have the same trauma SOOOOO thatz fun lol /s sorry kings i thought it would be fun to give u something fucked up to bond over <3

not much changes in his personality. he has a better understanding of Weird Magic and delights in freaking out the ultra vs but for the most part he returns to his life at the radio station. i love him

THIS GOT SO CRAZY LONG I DID NOT MEAN 2 GO THROUGH EVERY PART OF HIS LIFE LIKE SOME WEIRD CHARACTER STUDY but here we are. this is basically a first draft like almost all of this is subject to change but u gotta start somewhere. so heres my start i love this guy. its probably obvious but i have not read ANY twitterverse killjoys stuff </3 maybe i will someday idk

[alifeincoffeespoons]

a wolfstar good omens au

because i LOVE the art of @maria-tries​ and have had this headcanon living rent-free in my head ever since i saw this

i. 

Sirius is cool. When he walks, it’s with a swagger. He knows the right way to smirk to make strangers blush. He knows how to make his hair fall perfectly around his shoulders and catch the eye of every passerby. He knows how to wear his leather jacket so it fits him perfectly, no matter what he has on underneath. It comes with being a demon, after all.

(This is not entirely true. Most demons don’t pay attention to the way their hair falls or the perfect way to smirk. Sirius is the only demon who actually cares to learn these things. It’s true that every demon is capable of these things; most just don’t particularly want to, especially when they could be torturing idiotic humans instead.)

This makes him particularly good at temptation. Other things Sirius is good at include inventing devices and structures to lead humans onto the path to damnation (his more recent ones include Twitter and inauthentic poke bowl chains), raising tropical birds, and caring for his motorbike, a 1940 Harley-Davidson. 

Things Sirius is apparently not good at include caring for children, given that he’s lost the fucking Antichrist. 

“What do you mean you’ve lost him?” Remus hisses, and wow, this is the angriest Remus has ever looked, which isn’t very angry at all, to be honest, given that angels aren’t actually capable of being angry. To an outsider, he just looks a bit befuddled. 

“You lost him too!”

“Yes, but you were the one who brought him to that hospital.”

“Satanic convent.”

“Is this really the time to be precise?”

“I mean, a lack of precision was what got us here,” and it looks like angels actually are capable of being angry, since Remus’s current blank stare is absolutely terrifying.

“Are you sure?” Remus paces around the grounds of Malfoy Manor, where the birthday-boy-who-is-apparently-not-the-Antichrist is laughing at the hired magician, a pompous narcissist named Gilderoy Lockhart, who’s just failed to pull a bunny rabbit out of his top hat. Sirius makes a mental note to use Lockhart to tempt more people into rage sometime; if this is how horribly arrogant he is at a child’s birthday party, he can’t wait to see the damage he could do on a date. 

(Over the course of Gilderoy Lockhart’s short existence, he’s managed to seal the damnation of thirty individuals already. He would be a very good demon. Gilderoy Lockhart himself, of course, was hell-bound before he even reached his second year of university, by the force of his unfortunate habit of stealing the research of his fellow students. This, coincidentally, was also how he managed to get expelled from university.)

Multiple people would probably end up with black eyes at the end.

“Well, there’s no hellhound—”

“Don’t say that in front of the humans!”

“Oh, come off it, no one’s listening, everyone’s either getting drunk or throwing food at the magician—”

“Still!”

“There’s no dog here, and Bellatrix was just kind enough to inform me that the hellhound has arrived safely at the Antichrist’s home, so I’m pretty damn sure this is the wrong kid!”

“But how could we have lost him?” Remus looks like he’s going to either scream or cry, and neither is particularly appropriate for this occasion, even if Draco Malfoy’s birthday party is shaping up to be an unmitigated disaster even without the Antichrist Problem, given that the guests have begun throwing around chunks of the birthday cake topped with edible gold. 

(Which would have been a bad idea even if Lockhart wasn’t a hopeless magician, given that no eleven-year-old’s palette is nuanced enough to appreciate the delicacies of edible gold. Alternatively, edible gold is never a good idea, as it is simply capitalism at its worst. The second is more likely.)

“I don’t know, but we have, so we better fucking do something about it,” Sirius says. 

ii.

Doing something about it apparently means getting the hell out of Draco Malfoy’s disastrous eleventh birthday party and hunkering down in Remus’s bookstore to do research. Research means, in this case, Remus muttering furiously as he flips through dozens of prophecy books in hopes of finding something useful and Sirius annoying Remus as Remus mutters furiously. It’s very fun, annoying Remus. His angel isn’t very easily flustered, to be honest, which makes the pay-off even more worth it when he becomes flustered, in Sirius’s opinion. 

(Remus’s cheeks go all red and his freckles become even more prominent. If Sirius was the type of demon who went around calling things adorable, he would call Remus adorable. As Sirius is not that kind of demon, thank you very much, he thinks of Remus, secretly, as delectable. Honestly, the two are fairly interchangeable.)

Over the course of his 6,000-year-plus tenure on Earth, he’s also discovered that there are many things that annoy Remus. These include, and are not limited to:

Flipping through one of his books loudly and sighing whenever possible, making sure to say “boring” in an audible tone;

Eating Remus’s chocolate and then leaving the wrappers everywhere for him to find;

Calling Remus “Moony-Moons” in a sickeningly sweet tone (a nickname acquired after an unfortunate incident wherein some superstitious residents of Edinburgh mistook the angel for a werewolf in the 16th century);

Taking the motorbike around the block near Remus’s bookshop, making sure to rev the engine very loudly every lap; 

Humming “God Save The Queen” off-key, just loudly enough for Remus to hear. It’s doubly annoying, because he tips his chair back to creak on every off-beat.

Right now, he’s in the process of repeating the fifth option for the third time when Remus slams the book shut. For a moment, he thinks Remus is going to whisper-yell at him. 

(Hot.)

Or maybe he’s going to kiss him. 

(Even hotter.)

Instead, Remus simply stands up. 

“Right. I think we need to find a book.”

“Remus, you have almost every book written in the past five centuries and then some in this bookshop.” This is helped by the fact that Remus keeps very odd hours, always opening late in the afternoon and closing early in the morning. This isn’t even to mention the week he takes off every month, without fail, which has helped spread the rumor, again, that Remus is a werewolf. Sirius has not mentioned the existence of this rumor to Remus, because he finds it hilarious. If Remus needed to actually make money, he would be exceptionally poor, given that the last time he sold a book was three weeks ago, and it was a two pound guide book of Paris. 

Remus gives him a look. “Unfortunately, I don’t, actually, though that would be very nice. I’m missing Cassandra Trelawney’s Book of Strange and Mystical Prophecies.”

“Remus, all this prophecy bunk is rubbish. It’s just humans trying to scam dumber humans out of their money.” Sirius would know. He’s very good at creating ways for humans to scam dumber humans out of their money. He invented Juicero, after all. 

“It’s not, actually,” Remus says. “Granted, a lot of the prophetic books are, especially those from the 19th century, but Cassandra Trelawney’s is exceptionally accurate.”

“Aren’t you the one always going on about ineffability? How can any books be written if everything is ineffable anyway?”

Remus sighs. His angel is exceptionally good at sighing. Secretly, Sirius likes to think that they’re a sign of affection. 

(Actually, they are. Remus has a specific sigh for Sirius, which can best be translated as “you’re quite annoying, in all honesty, but for some reason, I’ve grown very attached to you and don’t know how I could bear to live without you at this point.”)

“The Plan may be ineffable, but Cassandra Trelawney was a true seer. This is just a shot in the dark, honestly, but if we could get our hands on it, it might help us find out who the Antichrist actually is.”

“And then what do we do?” Sirius asks. “What, we find this Antichrist, who’s probably been influenced by Downstairs already, if he has the hellhound, and what? We talk to him about how this world is actually very nice, so please don’t end it, please? You really think that’s going to work? This is the literal spawn of Satan, Remus. It’s not just another idiotic eleven-year-old. And what, do you think that prophecy book is just going to hold all the answers? That it’ll give a perfect description of the Antichrist and his exact address, and we’ll just find him?” 

“Well, what else can we do?” And there’s that Remus flush. Delectable, indeed.

“Run away with me,” Sirius decides suddenly. Remus gives him an incredulous look.

“To where?” he scoffs. “Sirius, if we can’t find the Antichrist, all of this will be gone.”

And that hurts, it does, because Sirius loves Earth, loves everything about it. He loves the solidity of the ground under his motorbike, loves the wine (he has taste, sue him), loves London especially, all the cafes where he can watch Remus sip tea and fawn over chocolate pastries. But if they find the Antichrist, and everything goes south anyway, because that’s what will probably happen, in any case—

“What if we find him and it’s gone anyway? Remus, if we fuck this up—and given how solidly we managed to fuck up taking care of the right Antichrist—one of us will probably be dead in the next month.” I can’t lose you, he doesn’t say, because he doesn’t know what he would do if Remus doesn’t feel the same way. “Remus, we can go—we can go to fuck, I don’t know, Alpha Centauri. Or anywhere else. You read all those books about exploring the galaxy, well, we could do that.”

Because Remus is far more principled than Sirius, for a moment, he seems to be gazing into space, and then he just sighs. 

(In that moment, Remus thought about running away with Sirius to some distant galaxy, where they could be something besides an angel and a demon, something unnameable and perfect in that unnameability, and it was all well and good for that moment, but then he thought about all the families that would be torn apart, all of the people who hadn’t done anything wrong at all, really, and would be condemned for simply happening to exist at the wrong time, and he knew he couldn’t.)

“We can’t. We just—we need to find him, and we can go from there. Look, has anything terrible happened yet?”

“It could be,” Sirius says sullenly. “And something terrible is always happening.”

“More terrible than usual, I mean. Earthquakes across the world, volcanic eruptions, Martians destroying London—and don’t give me that look, we’ll know if that happens.”

“Not yet,” Sirius has to admit. 

“Well, there you have it. We can save him.”

“Oh, so because he’s not currently destroying the world, he’s suddenly not the Antichrist anymore?”

“I never said that,” Remus replies mildly. “I’m saying that he’s a child, even if he’s the Antichrist, and he can’t be expected to be a soldier in a war he doesn’t even know he signed up for.”

“You and your fucking logic. Where are we even going to find this book of horrible prophecies?”

“I may have an idea,” Remus says.

(This idea, it must be said, is less of a fully-formed idea and more of an inkling. In short, it is not a very good idea.)

will i ever write more of this? who knows. maybe? i just Love the idea of sirius as crowley and remus as aziraphale so very much. 

(harry’s the antichrist, of course. but a good one!)

[fulltimecatwitch]

I Found a Reason ( To Keep Living)

My first anderperry fanfic set in the late 60s´ and early 70s´! 

I had already posted the a03link to the first chapter but it doesn´t show in the tags for some reason (?) so i´m posting it here as well.

Summary: It is the fall of 1969 and the start of senior year at Wellton for the Dead Poets. The world around them is changing fast and soon they will have to decide what they want for their lives. Neil is struggling against his fathers wishes of becoming a doctor,while his roomate Todd is trying to find the confidence to allow himself to lead the life he wants. They connect through their shared loved for music and dreams of moving to New York ,but don´t quite know what to do when it comes to the feelings they have for each other.An ode to the dead poets and the counterculture of the 60s´.

Warnings for: underage smoking, underage drinking, period typical homophobia, police brutality ( mentioned), brief mentions of war, poor parenting

Chapter 1: Gimme Shelter 

Neil Perry loved music, there was no other way to say it. Even before acting and performing, music had been his lifesaver in the ever-demanding life his father had already planned for him. Whenever he was feeling blue, he knew all he had to do was listen to his favourite records. He kept them in his closet, neatly ordered and hidden under piles of sweaters and other clothing items. Under the bed was the record player his mother had gifted him when he turned fifteen. His father had resisted at first, going on about how much it had costed and how much it was going to distract him from his classes. It took some help from his mother, but he let him keep it as long as he promised to use it “moderately and only after he was done studying”.

Neil had some records stored at home, but the ones he kept at Wellton were the ones that would get a disapproving look from his father and one or two of his professors. Most of the albums from the Beatles and the Stones, some Bob Dylan, Led Zeppelin, Hendrix, Clapton, he had a bit of everything. It hardly mattered now that he was back at school, away from his father and his incessant demands. He listened while doing homework in the afternoon with the volume almost at the lowest just in case Hager was around. Saturdays were his favourite days because he would then take the record player to the school´s rooftop along with some records; the others would join him too. Charlie provided cigarettes and wine that nobody knew how he obtained. Pitts would bring snacks and when he was feeling particularly happy, he would dance along with Meeks. They spent their afternoons lazily listening and dreaming how their lives would be after Wellton. For Neil, sometimes it seemed as if there was no future. There was so much chaos in the world around them: the war, the civil rights movement, the riots at that bar in New York, the police brutality, the list was endless. Yet, all his parents could think of was getting him to medical school. He supposed they had a point; in a year he and all his friends would be eighteen, all eligible for the draft. Sure, he could play it safe for a year or so with the college defer but what if he wasn´t able to keep up with the workload? Pre-med wasn´t easy, he knew that much, and it did not help that he dreaded the idea of becoming a doctor almost as much as the idea of getting dragged to the jungle. Unlike Charlie, who kept bragging about how he would burn his draft card if he ever got called, Neil´s parents had no connections that could help him. He was certain Todd and Knox had them but the rest of them were screwed. Pitts had once told him that if he ever got drafted, he was done for. No way he would survive in the jungle. They had all seen the news coverage; it was a massacre. “Perry,” Charlie said on one of those afternoons, while rolling his eyes “Knoxious here wants to listen to Rubber Soul because he thinks that the Beatles are better than the Rolling Stones, can you believe it?" Neil sighed internally, the same thing happened with Charlie and Knox every time they listened to music. They would first argue about which record to play and then endlessly debate who had the better music taste. Since Neil was the owner of the record player, he unofficially had the power to ultimately decide which album to liste, and he often had to intervene between the two. “I didn´t say that Charlie,” Knox interrupted “I´m just saying they have more idea of what they are doing, what they want their music to sound like. Even Bob Dylan said so.” “Well Dylan hasn´t really been the same since he went electric right?” “Come on Charlie you love the guy” “Not relevant right now, Neil” he said while putting out his cigarette “I say we take a vote to settle this for once and all” He called to the other dead poets, who were mindlessly talking about the massive amount of workload they had barely a month into the fall semester. “What are we doing?” asked Pitts “Taking a vote on who is better: the Beatles or the Stones” Neil said hoping his voice conveyed the slight annoyance of the situation Cameron rolled his eyes all the way back to his skull “Not again” Todd was standing slightly behind Meeks not saying anything yet. His new roommate was still a bit of a mystery, one that Neil found himself drawn to immediately. He was a bit of detective, so he tried hard to be friendly and the payoff was that little by little he saw glimpses of what composed the entirety of Todd. He liked hot tea on the afternoons, he only liked to shower at night, he clasped his hands together when nervous, his favourite sweater was a blue woollen one, he wasn´t good at maths, such little things. The most important one Neil had noticed was that even if Todd didn´t speak his mind often, his brain worked a thousand miles an hour and when he spoke, he did it with power, like prophet. He had such a gift with words and probably so much to say; it made Neil a bit sad that he would not allow himself to do it. He didn´t quite know what it was, but he had bonded with Todd in a way he had never with anyone else in his life. He suppossed that is what some would call "connection" but there had to be another word for it. Everytime there was this electricity running through both of their bodies and pulling them together. He felt the static in every inch of him, amplifying every part of his soul. “Who do you prefer, Perry? Asked Charlie, pulling him out of his thoughts. Damn it, Charlie. “Look, I don´t know who is better but right now I would take Let it Bleed over Revolver any day of the week” “You are a man of taste, Meeks? Pitts? “Sorry Charlie,” said the ginger “but I prefer the Beatles, not the old stuff though” “I agree the old stuff sucks, but I´d rather go to a Stones concert” added Pitts. “Cameron?” “You should know that I don´t approve much of either but if I had to pick, I would go with the Beatles. No way I am listening to someone who calls themselves satanic” “Why did I even ask?” sighed Charlie. What about you Todd? asked Neil raising his brow. The blue-eyed boy jolted slightly; he knew he had the final decision in his hands. If he was completely honest, he was more of a Beatles guy himself. He found that the lyrics suited him better, the mellow sounds were more of his taste, and even the old cheesy stuff ,he found endearing. The problem was that Neil had said he preferred the Stones and he could not deny Neil anything, even if he wasn´t aware he was asking. Neil was special on his own: he had this energy and passion to live that Todd had never seen on anyone else. He loved everything and everyone so much. He was determined to share bits and pieces of his beautiful soul, some he might never get back, just to make his friends feel the same joy he radiated. Neil was also the first person who had not given up on Todd. He had tried to push him away for good as much as he could during their first days at Welton and yet Neil persisted, like the leaf that refused to fall of a tree. Soon enough Todd realised that talking to Neil was easy and lovely. They had developed this little game, an unspoken one, where they guessed each other with just a hand gesture or a smile. Neil could guess what Todd was feeling or thinking with just a glance and the other way around. He liked this game, he liked being predicted and basked in sheer happiness whenever Neil smiled at him, signalling that they were thinking the same. Wasn´t that beauty in this world? To finally be able to talk with someone? To laugh? To dance? To read? someone to a dream about? Maybe it seemed small for Neil but the kindness he had showed him made Todd cry every time he thought about it. He took a few more seconds to think before finally saying: “Sorry, Knox but lately I´ve been more into the Stones and their blues” “Oh, you guys are the worst” Everyone laughed and the first few notes of Gimme Shelter were heard. The sun was setting, and the air was filled with cigarette smoke, everything was perfect. Todd wanted to preserve this in his head, capture it like a short film he could go over and over every time he felt alone. He tried to take it all in and took the courage to glance at Neil´s direction. Todd was certain he would be there, looking with that secret smile of his. Their eyes met through the last beams of light the sun had to offer, and when he curved his lips into a playful smirk and then a smile, they both knew he was saying: “Liar, we both know you prefer the Beatles” Todd smiled back and slightly shrugged his arms “You are welcome, Neil”

[godsporncollection]

Sunday GC Sessions Summary

(long version) (personal commentary in parenthesis)

M Russell Ballard

List of how the second coming is described followed by a huge list of the very obvious things wrong with the world right now. 

We pray for you. 

Remember to pray. Pray lots, and for lots of people, because the leaders of the world need divine inspiration. 

Quotes the lord's prayer. 

Pray for everyone, even people you don't like. 

(Do deaf people sign their prayers, when praying alone? What about when they pray in small, maybe family, groups?) 

Prayer will help us by making feel better. 

Pray everywhere you go. 

Personal story of being in pain from a surgery on the hand; prayer helped the pain.

Lisa L Harkness

Story of a child jumping into a lake and feeling she needed help, even though she was safe. Sometimes we do this too, because we can't see that we are safe with god. 

Biblical story of JC falling asleep in the boat that entered a storm and the disciples got scared and asked him to save them. 

Recent events can leave us feeling lost and afraid, but we should have faith in god.

Ulisses Soares

Seek JC in every thought and follow him with all our heart. 

Metaphor of magnet + metal object. Magnetic force holds objects tightly, but looses that power when the object is far away. 

Temptation will fade when we continue to resist it. 

JC told JS when in prison "let thy bowels also be full of charity towards all men and women, and to the household of faith, and let virtue garnish thy thoughths unceasingly; then shall thy confidence wax strong in the presence of god. The holy ghost shall be thy constant companion, and thy scepter an unchanging scepter of righteousness and truth." 

If you fall into temptation, there is hope. 

Story of friend who fell into temptation. He was sad. 

Prodigal son story.

Carlos A Godoy

I believe in angels. They're important. Some are here on earth. I'm gonna talk about those. 

I converted at 16, after two angels (sister missionaries) introduced me to the gospel at a church activity. 

I met another angel at youth conference. Her squad became my squad. 

Then I met two other angels; my seminary teacher and young men president. 

"Thanks to all these angels and many others I encountered during those important early years, I received enough srength to remain on the covenant path as I gained a spiritual witness of the truth." 

"Please, please do not give up on your efforts to be part of this big family. It is the true church of JC. When it comes to your happiness and salvation, it is always worth the effort to keep trying. It is worth the effort to adjust your lifestyle and traditions. The lord is aware of the challenges you face. He knows you, he loves you, and I promise he will send angels to help you."

Neil L Andersen

Jc's resume. 

"A recent study revealed that in the last 10 years, 30 million people in the US have stepped away from believing in the divinity of JC. Looking worldwide, another study predicts that in the decades ahead, more than twice as many will leave christianity than those who will embrace it." 

Use the correct name of the church and talk about JC more. We have to talk more about JC because the world is talking about him less.

Russell M Nelson

'Israel' means 'let god prevail'. 

Israel's descendants stoned the prophets. (...) 

My grandkid's wife was sad that her father was dying, but I told her she was being near-sighted. She felt better after looking at the big picture of god's plan. 

I greive for black people. 

(I can't listen to any more of this asshole, sorry.)

AFTERNOON SESSION 

Henry B Eyring

"My hope is to give encouragement when life seems especially difficult and uncertain. For some of you, that time is now. If not, such a time will come." 

Personal story of pulling weeds as a child and the frustration of the weeds breaking instead of coming out. Mother said "oh, Hal, of course it's hard; it's supposed to be. Life is a test." 

Story of us choosing to come to earth and satan disagreeing and getting followers. "Now, he tries to cause as many as he can to turn away from god during this mortal life." In the spirit world, we must have decided that whatever hardships we were going to face, "the forces of good would be overwhelmingly greater." 

Two quotes that say that god will be with us, and will help us, even in our darkest hours. 

God occasionally shows me the next couple of steps, but never a glimpse of the far future. 

Also, we need to help others. 

Another story of mother, who "all her life, she felt effects of the trials of illness. In her last 10 years of life, she required multiple operations. But through all, she proved faithful to the lord." "The last speaker [at her funeral] was elder Spencer W Kimball. After saying something of her trials and her faithfulness, he said essentially this: 'some of you may wonder why Mildred had to suffer so much and so long. I will tell you why. It was because the lord wanted to polish her a little more."

Jeremy R Jaggi

My youngest brother died two years ago. "We found comfort in the words of elder Neil L Anderson in general conference the week before Chad died: 'In the crucible of earthly trials, patiently move forward, and the savior's healing power will bring you light, understanding, peace, and hope.'" We'll be with him again, but losing him hurt. 

James 1:2. 

We thought 2020 would be all joy. Shit happened, but we're determined to see joy in this year anyway. 

Chapter 6 of 'Preach My Gospel'. 

"Blessed are the meek (etc)". 

Many unsourced quotes saying that the more you seek/follow/believe in JC, the happier you will be. 

Daughter, Emma, is a missionary. "[Emma] asked us to connect [online] with friends she was teaching [in the Netherlands]... We invited them to join our weekly online... study... All have become our friends." They've all converted. 

Nelson recently said "Voluntary fast offerings from our members have increased, as well as voluntary contributions to our humanitarian funds." 

"My brother Chad's passing came just a few months after our release from presiding over the Utah Ogden mission... Of all the 417 missions we could have been assigned to, we were assigned to... a 30-minute drive to Chad's home. Chad's cancer was diagnosed after we received our mission assignment. Even in the most trying circumstance, we knew that our heavenly father was mindful of us."

Gary E Stevenson

I was serving a mission in Japan. Kimball was speaking in Tokyo. I wanted to go. It was a long commute, so the mission president said no, but the rest of the branch went, so we were alone. Kimball announced a temple in Tokyo. I was disappointed to miss it. 

This is like the even deeper disappointment people today experience due to covid. 

How do we move forward? Consider the first verse of the BoM. 

Wife and I met online with many missionaries who still managed to do lots of ministering, despite covid restrictions. 

Think of "JS, languishing in Liberty Jail, feeling abandoned and forsaken, then hearing the words of the lord: 'these things shall be for thy good' and 'god shall be with you forever.'" 

"We, too, can draw parallels, as individual members and as a church, in the way in which we have been highly favored of the lord during the challenging times we have encountered during the past several months." 

"Let [these examples] strengthen your testimony of the seership of our living prophet, who prepared us with adjustments before any hint of a pandemic, enabling us to endure the challenges that have come." 

List of ways that we have been told to prepare. 

Story of a young woman who was just barely able to go to the temple right before leaving for her mission.

Milton Da Rocha Camargo

Gave his entire backstory before getting around to the topic: prayer. 

"An important part of heavenly father's plan is the opportunity to communicate with him anytime we want." 

"Every one that asketh, receiveth (etc)." 

"Recording our impressions is an important part of receiving. It helps us recall, review, and re-feel what the lord is teaching us." 

I like it when I have strong feelings after praying, but, more often, we're likely to hear the "still, small voice of the lord whispering to our mind and heart, 'I am here. I love you.'" 

"Revelation often comes when we are in the act of doing good."

Dale G Renlund

Can I be a better person? 

And "how can I, as a flawed person, qualify to 'dwell with god in a state of never-ending happiness'?" 

"Good deeds are not sufficient. Salvation is not earned... Left to our own devices, the prospect of returning to live in god's presence is hopeless. Without the blessings that come from heavenly father and JC, we can never do enough or be enough by ourselves... Because of and through JC, we can become enough." 

"We can be redeemed and stand clean and pure before god" by the ordinances of the gospel. 

"Do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with thy god." 

*Jewish appropriation* 

Story of someone who had to remind someone "Dr. Jones, you became a physician to care for people and work to heal them. You didn't become a physician to judge them [on a self-infilcted wound]. If you don't understand the difference, you have no right to train at [Johns Hopkins Hospital, Baltimore, MD]." 

Don't think you're above others. 

"To be christlike, a person loves mercy... gracious, kind and honorable. These individuals treat everyone with love and understanding, regardless of characteristics such as race, gender, religious affiliation, sexual orientation, socioeconomic status, and tribal, clan, or national differences."

Kelly R Johnson

Story of daughter who set the microwave to cook [instead of timer] for 30 min. It caught on fire. This is because microwaves need something in them to absorb the energy. 

"Our entire microwave went up in flames and burned because there was nothing on the inside. Likewise, those who have faith and the word of god deep in their hearts will be able to absorb and overcome the fiery darts which the adversary will surely send to destroy us." 

(As someone raised with a fire extiniguisher in the kichen, I feel the sudden urge to suggest this to anyone with children) 

(I have no idea what else he said because he used the word 'power' 34 times in his short talk, and it lost all meaning)

Jeffrey R Holland

Covid sucks and it's going on too long. 

We want to know when our struggles will be over. 

I'm now speaking about "those who would like to be married and aren't or who are married and with their marriage were a little more celestial. I speak of those who have to deal with the unwanted appearance of a serious medical condition, perhaps an uncurable one. Or face a life long battle with a genetic defect that has no remedy. I speak of the continuing struggle with emotional and mental health challenges that weigh heavily on the souls of so many who suffer with them and on the hearts of those who suffer with them. I speak of the poor, whom the savior told us never to forget. I speak of you, waiting for the return of a child no matter what the age, who has chosen a path different from the one you prayed he or she would take." Plus economic, political,and social concerns. 

Your prayers "are heard and they are answered, though perhaps not at the time or in the way that we wanted." They'll be answered when and how god thinks they should be. 

We shouldn't ask for a stress-free life; struggles make us worthy to live with god.

Russell M Nelson

"We live in a glorious age, foreseen by prophets for centuries... Despite the world's commotion, the lord would have us look toward the future with joyful anticipation... The gathering of Israel moves forward. The lord JC directs the affairs of his church and it will achieve it's divine objectives. The challenge for you and me is to make certain that each of us will achieve his or her divine potential." 

Let JC be your 'new normal' by "repenting daily. Seek to be increasingly pure in thought, word, and deed. Minister to others. Keep an eternal perspective. Magnify your callings. And... live each day so that you are more prepared to meet your maker." 

Six new temples: Tarawa, Kiribati; Port Vila, Vanuato; Lindon, Utah; Greater Guatamala; Sao Paulo East, Brazil; and Santa Cruz, Bolivia.

[minervahopebeyond]

Blood Petals.

Hi!! I hope you like this one! Please let me know what you think ✨💕

Ps. As always I already checked everything but I apologize if you find any grammar or vocabulary errors.

Chapter 13: The article. (Part 1)

So, apparently it was impossible for things to just go well for him. If something was in order then another thing would go to hell. Draco was that lucky.

Thanks to the Patronus, he could communicate with Sirius and Mr Potter without a problem; he just waited for his roommates to fall sleep, closed his curtains on the bed, casted a muffliato and then he sent his Patronus over there. Shortly he would get an answer from them and Draco found himself safe again, like when he was at Grimmauld.

The only problem that brought up the Patronus Cham was the one with Ron.

Weasley didn't faint when he heard the news but he was rather indignant.

" How?"

Draco laughed as he prepared the chessboard.

"What? Are you jealous, weasel?"

Ron snorted and rolled his eyes, trying to seem unaffected but Draco knew better.

"I didn't know your little Gryffindor pride was so fragile!" He said with an amused smile on his face. "If it makes you feel better, I don't believe it's about me."

The redhead raised an eyebrow, bored expression on his face.

" I swear! It's like your bloody dog! That's not about you."

"What the bloody hell are you talking about, ferret?"

Draco rolled his eyes, Weasley could be so obtuse sometimes.

" Jack Russell Terriers are known for chasing otters. Ring any bells?" The blond boy said with a smirk.

Ron started to get awfully red and glared at him. He grabbed some of the biscuits he was eating and threw them at him.

"Stop talking about it!" The boy looked away. " Besides, dogs are loyal and Jack Russells are also known for being energetic, playful, and hard workers"

"So, basically, you are telling me that you are a Hufflepuff."

Another biscuit was thrown at him.

"Lions are proud animals... they are social because they live in prides. They are also territorial and protective. And last but not least, they are lazy fuckers that send the lioness to hunt while they sleep all day." Weasley snorted. "I don't see how any of that doesn't apply to you."

" Ha bloody ha. Joke is on you, because I will never have a 'lioness'."

The redhead was still eating, then he talked with the mouth full.

"I'm sure, someday, you will find a pour bastard that spoils you rotten, every hour of every day."

He said it so quick, Draco's smile faded and Ron looked at him confused for a few seconds. Then he remembered and his eyes turned sad.

"It's okay, Weasley. I don't need to get married to be happy. If I make this two years count for something then I'm going to be happy. I swear."

His friend was looking at him, hurt, Draco felt awful.

" If you would just let us help you! People care about you, you prideful stupid git!" He yelled at him. He was figuring out what to respond but the redhead stood up and walked away.

And for the first time ever, Weasley stormed out and let him alone playing chess.

It wasn't exactly a fight. Ron was too good of a person to ignore him, given the situation. But something was there, Draco could feel that he was upset and maybe a little mad at him. The redhead was trying not to show it but the blond boy could tell.

As days passed things were getting a little more rough between them. They would stay silent for long periods of time while playing chess or Ron would smile less when he was around. Draco hated it with all his being.

He still talked to Potter, there wasn't much to say, though. Sometimes he would stop himself from getting too close to him, too friendly; because he feared that, if they became real friends, the boy would start to talk to him about Ginevra. He wished scarhead all the bloody happiness in the world, they could dance over Draco's grave for all he cared, he just didn't want to hear about it.

31st of October would be the following week and the green-eyed boy told him about this brilliant idea that his father had, of him spending the night at Grimmauld with them. He told him about how good it felt to be near them, because he always was kind of bitter at the feast, with everyone enjoying the night and having fun.

Draco, of course, already knew that Potter was sad on Halloweens. He learned that back in first year... That's why he suggested this plan to Sirius and Mr Potter on his letter. He just pretended not to know anything about it.

______________

Draco woke up that Saturday feeling good about visiting Hogsmade. He missed drinking butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks or going to Honeydukes. Today his plan was spending the entire day with Blaise and Pansy, he kind of owed them, after all. And he missed them, he missed them being happy and laughing with him. So, that was his main goal for that day: making his friends laugh and smile a lot.

Blaise was nowhere to be seen, so he most likely was waiting for him at the great hall, having breakfast with Pansy. He got changed as quickly as he could and went to meet them.

Today, you are going to be really nice and you are going to let me have fun. Is that clear, useless daffodils?

When he got to the Great hall, everyone had a copy of the Daily Prophet in hand. They were all whispering ’Can you believe it?’ ‘This is so awful, they should be ashamed of themselves’ ‘The anniversary is next week, who does that??’

He sat next to Pansy.

“What is going on?” He asked.

Blaise had a conflicted face when he looked at him. Then he made a gesture to Pansy.

“He is going to find out anyway.”

Blaise sighed and put the newspaper in front of him.

“It’s the front page.”

He could only stared at it.

REBORN FROM THE ASHES: SIRIUS BLACK AND JAMES POTTER

There was a picture of them under the headline, the were walking at the street, smiling at each other. It looked like Sirius had said something funny, because for a brief moment, Mr Potter

threw his head back and laughed. They were close to each other, which wasn’t new... but in this context it seemed like it was. He started to read, then.

We all know that Sirius Black’s name has been cleared. This year we had the grand surprise of welcoming James Potter back to our world, and thanks to that we found out the truth about the events of that awful night back in 1981.

Both of them had been spotted on the streets of muggle London, as they were about to enter a restaurant, looking quite cozy. I think we all want to think that this is just a mistake, but sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words.

We also could get a statement from someone who went to school with them, who wishes to remain anonymous.

‘There were rumors about them, back in Hogwarts, they were never apart. And the entire school knew that Black was gay, maybe it was even why he got disowned. Just saying.’

Only one week away from the anniversary of the death of the Potters (although now it would be commemorated as Lily Evans Potter death), it seemed rather shocking to all of us.

As always, my intention is to keep my readers informed of everything, even when the news turn up to be uncomfortable.

Written by: Rita Skeeter.

What a load of bullshit! Sirius and Mr Potter weren’t dating! They would had told Potter. There was no way in hell they would of hide this from him. They wouldn’t let him find out like this. And most of all, they didn’t deserve this, after all that they went through... it was too much.

He looked at Blaise and Pansy with a pained look on his eyes. He had to go, do something. Pansy sighed but nodded.

“You better meet us at the three broomsticks.”

“You two are the best friends that one could ask for” He hugged Pansy and smiled brightly at Blaise.

“Yes, we know. Now go with the Gryffindors, Dragon.”

He got up and walked towards their table. Potter was frowning at the article. He heard Granger speak.

“Harry, this is Skeeter. She wrote that we were together in fourth year, based on a stupid picture too.”

“Yes, mate. They would had told you, you would know.” Weasley was always seeing through people, always being perceptive. Draco sat down next to Potter,in front of the others two thirds of the golden trio.

“ I agree with both of them. This is bullshit and really insensitive, in so many levels.”

Harry turned to look at him,the frowned seemed to fade a little, before the boy nodded.

“Yes, you are right. Of course.” The boy cleared his throat before continuing. “I’ll meet you outside in 15 minutes? I think I need to be alone for a little while.”

Draco frowned at that while the other two nodded at him. They had worried expressions on his eyes.

Draco waited for Weasley and Granger to finish eating breakfast. None of them were in a mood to talk, the blond boy just wanted to check on Potter before going to the Three Broomsticks.

They waited for a while, trying to give the green-eyed boy some space, before they went to meet him. They walked in silence until Granger spoke.

“Are you spending the day with us?” She didn’t mean it in a bad way, her tone was more curious than anything else. Draco shook his head.

“No, Pansy and Blaise feel a little abandoned because I spend Sundays with Weasley already. I promised to be with them the entire day... But this happened. I’m meeting them there later.” The girl murmured something like ‘Oh... okay’ and nodded.

When they got outside, Potter was not alone. Theodore was standing in front of him, with Vince and Greg beside him.

“Don’t tell me that you are crying, Potter.”

“Leave me alone, Nott.”

He looked at Potter to see if he could find any trace of tears on his face: nothing. Good. Draco grabbed Weasley and Granger by their arms, indicating them to not get closer. Potter hated being saved, he could look after himself.

“Don’t worry. We are not going to tell anyone.” Theodore said in a fake tone. “I would be ashamed too, if I had a deviant as a godfather... Not to mention your father turning into a shirtlifter.”

Oh, no. He was going to kill him. And Vince and Greg too, because they laughed. He found himself marching towards them, furious. He stood in front of Potter, looking at the Slytherins.

“What the fuck did you just called them?” Theodore, no, Nott; rolled his eyes.

“This doesn’t concern you, Malfoy.”

“Unfortunately, it does, so let’s try this again.” Draco took a few steps closer towards the git. “What the fuck did you just called them?” He hissed.

He was close to Nott, he wanted to intimidate him, to make him realize that he just made a big mistake. That moment right there, was his chance to take back what he said, and move on with his day. But Theo could never let something go.

His hazel eyes where looking right at him, with determination, with the desire of winning. Then he spoke really slowly, enjoying the words that left his mouth.

“I said: Sirius Black is a deviant and James Potter is turning into a shirtlifter for him.”

This is something that Draco hated and loved about Theodore: he enjoyed being mean. The blond boy, always appreciated the honesty of it all, the brunette didn’t pretend to be polite or a good person; he was good with his friends and mean with the rest. Draco hated that sometimes he took it too far.

He pulled a face of disgust and disappointment and took a step back.

“You think you are really funny, don’t you? Making fun of someone for who they love.” He snarled at him. “I personally think that the article is bullshit... but even if it were true, I don’t see how you could joke about it.”

He laid the trap right in front of him. Back the hell off, Theo. We both know how to play this.. The other boy just snorted.

“That’s because you are a fairy too, Malfoy”

Draco just smirked. You are so stupid, darling. I’m going to destroy you.

“See? Don’t you think is a little basic and old fashion? To make fun of someone for their sexuality, I mean.” He raised an eyebrow, smirk still in place. “For example, if I wanted to insult you... Maybe I would point out that your lack of wit and brains, could be because of the inbreeding.” He heard the Gryffindors gasp in amusement behind him. Theodore glared at him.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Oh, but I’m not even finished.” Then he looked at him up and down and bit his lips. He could swear that Theo blushed a little, before being notoriously uncomfortable. “But if I were to stood in your level... I would kindly remind you that most of the openly homophobic bastards, turn up to be closeted and ashamed themselves.”

Nott took out his wand and Draco followed.

“Let’s remember that I’m better at dueling than you, Theo. Why don’t you save the little dignity that you have and leave.” Then he looked at Vince and Greg. “You too, I don’t even want to see you.”

Theodore looked furious and hurt at the same time. He gestured the other boys to follow him and they walked away from there. He was watching them go when he heard Weasley.

“That was brilliant, ferret!”

Draco turned around to see the boy. The redhead was already pulling him into a hug. He was surprised at first, they never hugged before, and at the moment, they were in this weird limbo of friendship. The blond boy blinked and returned the hug. Good, this felt normal again. He couldn’t feel Weasley being mad anymore.

“That was almost as cool as when Mione punched you in the face!”

Draco chuckled and pulled away from the hug to look at him.

“I feel honored, weasel.”

Granger walked to where they were, smile on her face.

“Thank you for standing up to them, Draco”

He widened his eyes, dumbfounded. Granger avoided speaking to him... Now she was thanking him. He nodded.

“It was nothing, I’m sure you would had punched Nott in the face, if I hadn’t intervene.” He smiled at her. The girl chuckled and agreed with him.

They turned to look at Potter, then. The green-eyed boy was staring at him... trying to say something but no words left his mouth.

“I’m sorry if I got in the way. He insulted Sirius and your father and I just couldn’t leave it.”

Potter frowned at that.

“He insulted you too.”

Draco nodded and did a gesture with his hand, to indicate that it wasn’t important.

“I’ve known him for a long time. He can’t say anything about me that I haven’t heard before.” The boy was looking at him, curious, and then he nodded.

“Do you want to come with us to Hogsmade?”

He started to feel the tickles. He is just being friendly, you brainless flowers. Draco smiled and shook his head.

“I can walk with you there, but I really have to spend the day with Blaise and Pansy. They will kill me if I ditch them.”

Potter seemed a little disappointed to hear that, but he just nodded at him. The daffodils didn’t stop moving, making him feel tickles all over his lungs, pulling him to be near the boy; Draco force himself to stay where he was. He felt Weasley put his arm around him.

“Let’s go then, ferret.”

The day was a little cold, but it was still fall ,so it was enjoyable to be outside. As they walked there, Draco noticed that Potter was rather quiet. He wished that the green-eyed boy wouldn’t worry about the stupid article from Skeeter. The Daily Prophet always wrote shit, everyone knew that. The ministry used them to manipulate information, it wasn’t exactly a coincidence that Sirius and Mr Potter were on the front page, while the disappearances weren’t.

Hogsmade has this peaceful air that Draco always found very soothing. Since there were just a few weekends a year where the students could get out of the castle, everyone was happy, it was like a pause from all the awful things that were happening outside.

“Potter, enjoy today. To brood over it won’t get you anywhere.”

He turned to where Draco was, anxious green eyes looking at him.

“Fine. Have fun with Zabini and Parkinson.”

[chroniclackofselfpreservation]

Creatures of the Night

Chapter 19 - ask me why i love you, dear

Back to the Beginning   < Previous chapter / Next chapter >   

AO3

Masterlist

(Chapter title (and lyrics later in the chapter) are from "Ask Me Why I Love You" by Walter Everette Hawkins)

Dark, angry water swirled around Patton. It was too dark to see, and the only thing he heard was the muted crash of waves on the surface above him. Patton’s throat stung from the bitter salt water filling his nose and mouth. His limbs felt heavy and useless from the intense cold. By some miracle, Patton’s head broke the surface. He coughed and spluttered, gulping air. The sky was dark, and the sea was gray with storm. Waves taller than buildings swelled around him.

“Logan!!” he screamed, but the wind whipped the sound of his voice away from him. He opened his mouth to call out again, but the wave before him crested. Impossible amounts of water slammed into him, sending him rolling beneath the waves once more.

                                                 * * * * * * * * * *

Roman sat cross-legged on his bed, staring at his hands lying limp in his lap. He’d tried to sleep, but couldn’t even stand having the lights off for more than a few minutes. Everything having to do with the dark was negative. The curse. Dying. Lying in bed, listening to his father sobbing angrily in the next room. It felt stupid. Pathetic. He was an adult now, but couldn’t handle a little darkness.

A strangled gasp and muffled thud sounded from the other side of Roman’s wall. The wall he shared with Patton. Concerned, Roman stood and padded out into the hallway, knocking softly on Patton’s door.

“Everything okay in there, Padre?” he asked quietly, not wanting to wake the others. Logan and Virgil had been through quite the ordeal not too long ago and needed their rest. There was no answer, so Roman turned the handle and eased the door open.

He poked his head inside. “Patton?” The room was dark. Roman hadn’t turned on the hall light, so he couldn’t see anything inside.

“I’m fine,” Patton replied shakily, panting.

“You don’t sound fine.”

“It was just a dream.” The lamp on Patton’s bedside table suddenly clicked on, and Roman saw that he’d fallen out of his bed, his blankets a tangled mess at his feet.

Roman snorted. “I hope you understand that, coming from you, that isn’t a very reassuring statement.” He held out a hand and helped Patton to his feet. “What happened in your dream?”

Their hands lingered for just a moment. Patton pulled away, hugging his arms around his chest and angling away from Roman. “I was drowning. In the ocean, I think. I couldn’t see any land, but it was the middle of a storm, so I could have missed it. I think Logan was there, too.”

“Oh,” Roman said lamely. “That does sound bad. Do you know when it’s, you know… happening?”

“No. I rarely do.”

“How’s your cheek doing?” he asked, hoping to lighten the mood a bit. Patton brushed his fingers across the four marks. They were beginning to scab over and the blood had dried into a near black crimson.

“It’s fine. Doesn’t even hurt.”

“You say that a lot.”

Patton gave a confused smile. “Say what?”

“That everything’s fine.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but Roman stuck him with a meaningful look. If anyone was familiar with that exact avoidance tactic, it was him. Patton’s resolve crumbled.

He clambered onto his bed and sat back against the headboard, wrapping his arms around his pillow and resting his chin on it. “This whole last year, did you ever… worry about changing?”

Roman sat down on the edge of the bed. “What do you mean?”

Patton looked away. “Like, if everyone was only friends with the person you pretended to be, would they be disappointed if you were suddenly yourself? What if the real you was a completely different person?”

Roman leaned back on his arms, looking up at the ceiling thoughtfully. “I did worry about that. Still do. But no one stays the same forever, right? People change.” He glanced over at Patton, who looked like he was about to vomit. The questions were pretty specific, and Roman didn’t have to guess that Patton was subtly talking about himself. Still, he had the courtesy to say, “Why do you ask?”

“If I tell you something, do you promise not to tell the others? At—at least until I’m ready?”

“Of course.” Roman practically had to keep his secret—not that he wasn’t planning on it. After all, he’d be the hypocrite of the century if he didn’t.

Patton took a breath. “When Dot adopted me, I was thirteen. Back then, I was a different person. I was mean, and distrusting, and cynical. Dot was so nice and kind. I—I knew she deserved someone better. So, I made a character, and played a part. I became a perpetually happy child who made witty jokes and called everyone kiddo. I made Dot a proud mother, or at least I tried to.”

“Sounds exhausting,” Roman said. Though he was beginning to find he knew very little about his friend, he couldn’t help but feel sympathy for him. He, too, had once put on an act in the vain hope of restoring his father to the way he’d been before his mother had died. It hadn’t worked too well.

“It was, for a while,” Patton admitted. “But after a year or so, I managed to forget my past. The horrible things that had happened to me. I sort of became the character I’d made, and now… I’m not sure which is really me anymore.”

Roman hesitated. He wanted to say the right thing here, but he wasn’t nearly as eloquent as Logan. “If I ended up changing because of dying and coming back, would you think any different of me?”

Patton looked up, incredulous. “Of course not!”

“Then why would you think any one of us would feel that way about you?”

Patton opened, then closed his mouth, looking away.

“I won’t speak for Logan or Virgil,” he continued, returning his gaze to the ceiling, “but I’d be shocked if they did anything but accept you for who you are. I know I do.”

Patton gave an aborted smile, not hugging himself quite as tightly as before. “Thanks, Ro. Sorry I woke you up.”

“Oh, it’s fine. I wasn’t sleeping, anyway.”

“It’s, like, four in the morning,” Patton said, glancing at his clock.

Now it was Roman’s turn to feel uncomfortable. He quickly discarded the immediate idea of lying to Patton and telling him that he simply wasn’t tired, especially after he’d been so open about his own problems. “I, uh, can’t really bring myself to sit alone in the dark. It’s… too much like dying.”

“Have you tried sleeping with the lights on?”

Roman laughed dryly. “Yeah. Aside from sending our power bill through the roof, it doesn’t work too well. I just end up pulling the blanket over my head, and then we have the same problem with the dark.”

“You know,” Patton started softly, stretching his legs out, “there was a nasty part of my past that I had forgotten for a long time—some sort of defense mechanism, I guess. It wasn’t until I’d lived with Dot for several months, my mind felt safe enough to let me remember. I had horrible nightmares almost every night. In between these nightmares and my own prophetic dreams, I was so terrified of sleeping I’d get physically sick.” The words came easier than they had before, Patton’s face less an expression of shame than one of melancholy nostalgia. Somehow, he seemed older than he was. He and Roman were the same age, but because of the overly cheery disposition and goofy jokes, Roman typically thought of him as the youngest of their group. Now, he looked as if the years of his life were spread across his eyes.

“Dot would sit by my bed every single night, trace her fingers across my palm, and sing me to sleep,” he finished, meeting Roman’s eye. “I’d be happy to see if it’ll help you.”

Roman flushed. “Wha—really? You think it’ll work?”

Patton shrugged, putting his pillow aside and swinging his legs off the side of his bed. “No harm in trying, right?” Roman blinked, finding himself waiting for the obligatory “kiddo” or pun so bad it stung his eyes at the end of his statement, but it didn’t come. Patton gave a soft, genuine smile and stood. Roman followed him out of the room and into his own, struggling to put a finger on exactly what was different about Patton. It was like going from a children’s animated film, with exaggerated expressions and sound effects, to live action. Things were felt just as deeply, but more subtly expressed. Patton seemed less like a character, and more like a real person. Not the carefree goofball, but not the cynical miscreant he claimed to be either. Somewhere in between.

Roman’s room was infinitely messier than Patton’s, but he didn’t seem to mind, carefully stepping around the piles of clean laundry he’d meant to put away days ago, but still hadn’t.

“I don’t want to keep you up,” Roman muttered.

“I can’t sleep after one of my dreams, anyway,” Patton said, shrugging again. “Besides, I want to help.”

Roman settled into his bed, pulling the comforter up over his shoulder.

“Do you want me to leave the light on?”

“No.”

Patton switched it off, then crossed to his window, opening the shutters. “There. That way, when you wake up, hopefully it’ll be light enough to see.” He removed the several articles of clothing Roman had draped across his swivel chair and wheeled it over to his bedside. The ambient light from the streetlamps outside gave just enough light for Roman to make out Patton’s silhouette in the dark.

“Give me your hand.”

Roman reached out from under the covers, and Patton took his hand in both of his own. Roman was immediately grateful he’d voted to keep the lights off. Otherwise, his furiously blushing face would have been in plain view. Patton’s hands weren’t soft, but they were gentle.

“Any requests?”

Roman snorted. “You choose.”

“Hmm,” Patton hummed, beginning to trace the lines of Roman’s palm as he thought, sending shivers down Roman’s spine. “Oh! I’ve got one. Dot used to sing this one all the time,” he said, taking a short breath, then beginning:

“Ask me why I love you, dear,

and I will ask the rose

Why it loves the dead of Spring

At the Winter’s close;

Why the blossoms’ nectar'd sweets

Loved by questing bee—

I will gladly answer you,

If they answer me.”

The melody was simple and common—something a million different lyrics could have been tacked onto and called a song—but the way Patton sang it made it sound like it had been written specifically for him. Not to mention Patton could sing. In the many years they’d all known each other, Roman could count on one hand the number of times any of them had heard Patton sing, most by accident.

He continued with the next verse, singing:

“Ask me why I love you, dear,

I will ask the flower

Why it loves the Summer sun,

Or the Summer shower;

I will ask the lover’s heart

Why it loves the moon,

Or the star-besprinkled skies

In a night in June…”

Roman closed his eyes, focusing on the song and the circular patterns Patton traced against his palm. At first, he’d worried that the sudden intimacy of the experience would have kept him wide awake, but before too long, his mind grew slow and heavy, and his body felt weighed down. Somewhere in the back of his mind, something knew he should be panicking at Patton’s closeness, but the thoughts were whisked away as his friend continued singing.

“Ask me why I love you, dear,

I will ask the vine

Why it’s tendrils trustingly

Round the oak entwine;

Why you love the mignonette

Better than the rue—

If you will but answer me,

I will answer you.”

Roman’s breathing deepened. As he fell asleep, he would have thought Patton’s voice would fade further away, but instead it filled his head as he slowly drifted off.

[id-never-letyoudown]

Told u I'd write self indulgent shit(lmao readmores don't work on mobile rip)

Henry Hidgens x Wilbur Cross. Because I don't have nearly enough rarepairs and we can also all blame @youregoingtobe-thedeathofme

--

It was quiet in the professor's home. Far too quiet. Yet somehow it was comfortable. Because Henry knew he wasn't alone. He could feel that pair of eyes on him, and he thought he knew exactly who they belonged to.

"If you insist on sneaking around you can at least hand me my drink." He chuckled, wiping his hands on his apron. The kitchen smelled of cinnamon and brandy, and nice, tart green apples. Apples he was still snacking on, mind you. It felt warm. Cozy. It wasn't often Henry baked. But when he did it was a nice treat.

He could hear his drink being picked up, the ice clinking against the glass. "Feel free to pour one for yourself. I have plenty." You know, because he'd certainly need it for whenever the world turned to shit. "Ah, but not the red. I'm saving that."

"You better like apple pie, after-" the twitch was minute, barely noticable. That head of hair absolutely did Not belong to who he thought he was speaking to. He made himself relax, clearing his throat. "After all the trouble I had to go through."

John set the glass down, right beside the pie that was still cooling. And a second still in the oven. To say John didn't notice him tensing up would have been a mistake on his part.

"'Fraid I don't have time to have a sit down and chat." That was never good. "I gotta ask you some questions, Hen."

Henry's interest was piqued, brow cocked at his long time friend and former partner. "Oh no, what'd I do now?" He spat sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Is this about my search history? I knew something felt buggy. PEIP's been rooting through my things again, haven't they? Keep at it. It'll only make my security stronger." He waved a serving knife in his direction, tsking.

"Nothing like that." John chuckled. Henry really hadn't changed. Well, let's let him believe that. "I'm talking about last week's storm."

"You mean the one that came out of nowhere and damn near tore Hatchetfield apart? Heard on the news there was a mudslide and everything." He took up his drink, "I had a hell of a time cleaning up my garden." A flat out lie. Henry's home had been virtually untouched by that night's wicked storm. There was good reason for that.

One he wasn't about to let John in on.

"Our specialist says this spot was right in the eye of the storm. Now, this may just be a coincidence. But with this being Hatchetfield, and with it showing so suddenly and causing so much damage..."

Henry couldn't help but laugh, "Do you think I had anything to do with it? I'm not a wizard, John." Oh but he did. He had everything to do with it. With some help of course. They had so much to do with that night. And so much fun doing it.

"Course not. I just wanted to make sure everything was good on your end. Thought-"

"Thought it had something to do with the Black and White? John, you know if I was worried about that I would have called you. Nothing's gone amiss, of course not yet. But if it does I'll certainly let you know."

John looked at him. Really, really looked at him. He could tell something wasn't right. Something was up. Since when did Henry set out two sets of plates and glasses when he didn't know he was coming over? But he could just be reaching there. Or hell, maybe his good friend had a hot date coming for a hot slice. Of pie.

"Right. I need to be going." John pat Henry on the shoulder. "Xander wants you to call him sometime. Don't forget."

He nodded, grabbing a slice of green apple to munch on as he waved him off, only waiting until he was certain John was gone to relax. "Does no one call ahead anymore?" He mumbled, turning back to face the counter.

He found his lips met with something soft, and the surprised gasp that left him took any shocked proclamation right out of his mouth. Along with his treat. Which the apple fiend was now snacking on after pulling away from the kiss, rather smugly too.

"Wil!" Henry's cheeks flushed, wanting to scold the man but for what? He rather liked this spontaneity. And Wilbur knew it.

"Miss me already?" Cross chuckled, licking his lips. "It's only been what? A few hours?"

"Far too long and you know it." Henry abandoned his drink in favor of wrapping his arms around the man before him. "I take it everything's set then?" He says, squeezing him just about as tight as he could comfortably manage.

"Poor little dove." Cross ran his fingers through silver hair, bending down to plant his face right atop Henry's head. He hummed, "You know it. Decoy's been picked. Plan's all set. They'll be so focused on the prophet that by the time our old friends at PEIP realize something's up, we'll have already won."

Henry turned his head up to look at him, met with another kiss. He smiled, "You know, you've been awfully affectionate since I agreed to bring Him into this world."

"You deserve it, babe. Can't thank you enough. We've worked so hard for this. And now? We're so close."

He pulled back, taking to holding Cross' hand instead. "It does make me wonder... if it were anyone else, would you still-"

"Fuck no."

That was certainly abrupt.

"Henry, He brought you to me for a reason. You remember? When you first stepped into the Black and White? I knew," he took his face into his hands, "I knew from the moment I saw you. Fuck, dove. You're like-like the greatest gift I could have gotten. And you don't even need to be all wrapped up in a pretty lil bow.... that would be nice though." He smirked when Henry chuckled.

"Oh I can't wait to unleash all manner of hell onto this plane when He's born..." There was a slight pause, another him leaving the professor. It almost made Cross start to worry, until. "How can we be so sure it took though?"

"Did you see that storm? Think it's safe to assume you're good and knocked up." And the way he said that came out as some mix of proud and smug.

"Well, no harm in making sure of things, you know. Could always go for a few more goes between the sheets, see if we can conjure up another storm for the hell of it." Now that got Cross' attention. "Just one thing, I'm not naming our child 'Wiggly', that's heinous."

"I-Henry you can't rename our savior."

"Oh hush, why don't we discuss this over some pie? Hm? It's fresh and hot."

".... You made this to butter me up, didn't you?"

"Nooooooooo..."

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Dragon Dancer III: Nailing The God

Mild Spoiler Warning: This chapter Spoils a Conversation in Level 103 and a Conversation from a scene Level 109

-----

In the crimson light of a setting sun, Chisei and I took off together in a large military grade helicopter towards the Tama mountains. We were joined by 28 men who had been disguised as the priests in the shrine, but now donned tactical gear and submachine guns. These elite forces of the Hydra, highly trained and loyal, displayed fighting prowess on the level of US Navy Seals. Even though this was a small group, we had the strength of an army.

“You’re sure you’re up to this? You were injured not long ago,” Chisei asked me.

I chuckled to myself. “Having too much energy was one of the reasons I wasn’t adopted, you know. I was so tired a few minutes ago, but I feel fine after such little rest. Hybrid energy never ceases to amaze.”

“Get Anjou on the line,” was Chisei’s only response. 

His sat, arms crossed, piercing the space in front of him with a steely glare. The phone line picked up, but Anjou didn’t say so much as a greeting.

“I hope you realize, Anjou, that your kinetic weapon is not going to work.”

Anjou remained silent.

“You cannot decide when to launch and you cannot adjust it once it launches. All the King has to do is move the god away from the Red Well and Tokyo is gone and the world is lost. The King’s men infiltrated the Hydras and assaulted your group. Don’t you think they know what you’re up to already?”

My eyes turned away. My good mood dampened. 

“It was my plan to hold the god there for you. To prevent their movement until the strike of the rod.”

My chest ached hearing those words. He planned to die. Chime must have known. His cries and his tears were still fresh in my mind.

Anjou finally spoke, his voice soft but clear. “You’re already on your way?”

“Yes. We’ll be there in 15 minutes. I am still a patriarch. I said I was not a good student and I meant it. I made a lot of mistakes. I am not as good as Caesar, Chu Zihang and Lu Mingfei but... I like them very much. It’s too late to make friends with them. I hope at least to get a passing grade from you now.”

“I’m sorry I have spoken to you so harshly.” Anjou’s reply was full of regret.

“I wanted to be scolded. To be told the things I already knew. Only Carli refuses to tell me what I need to hear.”

"Then Carli is with you.”

He turned to me, though he still addressed the Principal. “Yes. Do you have any regrets of sending your genius to die with me? Or was this your plan all along? You should know the dangers of her bloodline, even if she doesn’t. If so, it’s inexcusable for you to deceive her this way.”

I turned to him. I didn’t believe Anjou wanted either of us to die here. He was the one who asked me to be here. Was he afraid Chisei might make this a suicide mission?

Was that my real reason to be here? 

I spoke up. “I can leave any time. But I’m here on the behalf of Chime Gen.”

Chisei’s jaw clenched. “I’m here to make up for the mistakes I’ve made.”

“What mistakes?” I asked.

Chisei’s pained look of disbelief and anger put a lump in my throat. His guilt still tormented him despite my forgiveness.

“You’re still going to die for justice?” Anjou asked, quietly. His question confirmed my suspicions about his true motive.

Chisei cut the line. He avoided my gaze, staring over the ruined landscape of Tokyo instead. I knew there were no words that could truly turn the tide when it came to thoughts of suicide. These sorts of feelings overpowered logic and reasoning. Without the support of Lu Mingfei and Chu Zihang, I would have succumbed to them long ago.

“You should go, Carli. Go back to Chu Zihang.” He finally said, still gazing out the window.

“I know.” I responded. “Not that it has anything to do with you. The King knows almost everything about us.  Our Soul Skills, our bloodline, even my ability to teleport. He’s already taken a contingency against us. But... I still have something that only one other person knows. Only Chu Zihang knows.”

That got his attention, he finally looked at me again. “You have an ace up your sleeve.”

I smiled at him. “I have two.”

We broke through the clouds over the Tama mountains. The normally green peaks had turned an ashen grey and were draped in strange white filaments as if a giant spider had spread a veil of silk overnight.

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

Lu Mingfei settled in the wine cellar of the Takamagahara, listening to the sounds of thudding feet on the upper floor. No one knew he was down there. Outside this underground haven, ravenous Servitor monsters stalked the hallways led by gunmen from the Devil Clan. He was sure each of those thugs would be eager to be the one to take down the S-ranked member of Cassell. Silence was punctuated by screams and gunfire, followed by more silence. He couldn’t make it out of there without Carli’s help.

“Carli...” He whispered to himself. He felt terrible for even needing her help. Carli had looked up to him from the day they met. She’d never stopped calling him ‘senpai’, even though her achievements quickly outstripped his. He’d always suspected that he was an imposter of an S-Rank. Carli had finally shown him the truth of it in this devastating contrast.

He would never forget the sight of her being pinned to the wall by Ruri Kazama’s long knife. She was the most precious thing in the world to him, but in that moment he’d been unable to protect her. She had to save herself and she did. Now it was up to him to save himself and he was not so sure of his own chances.

Perhaps, if he had managed to keep his Akira persona, things might have gone differently.

When he had heard the woodblock sound, it had awakened a great strength in him, a strength he could use in this situation. However, the woodblock was in the hands of the enemy. If he had dared join Carli in battle against Kazama, who knew if he would have fought with her or turned against her under the control of the King? He shuddered at the thought.

As if in sympathy, his phone vibrated on the bartop. A text message from Erii... He was surprised. She knew already that he wasn’t Akira, that his true identity was another person named Mingfei. But she was texting him?

“Where are you?” She was worried about him?.

“I’m okay. I’m hiding in a shelter. Are you safe?” Her text made him smile.

“I’m on my way to the airport with my brother. My brother is very upset, but he is with me and comforts me. Is there someone there to comfort you?”

There is now. That line of thought sounded like something Akira would say. During the time he couldn’t remember his own name or where he came from, people surrounding him just started calling him Akira, saying he was from a prestigious clan. Even though he couldn’t remember it, it felt better than being confused so he accepted that identity.

While he was Akira, he loved Erii so much. Those feelings still lingered. Erii was texting a ghost of a person. Someone who wasn’t real but had somehow existed. He felt like he should apologize for deceiving her this way, but he struggled to do it. Every time he tried to text ‘I’m sorry’, the feelings of affection and the memories of his time in isolation gaming together with her welled up and stopped him from pressing send.

The feeling of her lips against his sent a pang through his chest and pressed a sigh from him.

How could he acknowledge the past feelings were real and acknowledge that they had to start over?

He didn’t want to lose her. He didn’t want to have her for the wrong reasons.

Mingfei hung his head. “I have our memories to comfort me.” He typed.

“Where are you? Are you at the Heavy Industries building? I will pick you up. We can go to South Korea together.”

He wanted it. He wanted so much to go to her. His spirit was torn in two. If she came back to where he was, she would be in danger. She had received stabilizing treatments for her debilitating condition, but her health was still delicate. The streets were flooded and impassable. The car could be wrecked or swept away. If she ran into danger from the Devil Clan gang or the Servitor beasts, using her Soul Skill could endanger her health.

His prophetic dreams told him so: first would be the water. Next, would be fire. “No, Erii. It’s too dangerous to come. I will join you in South Korea later.”

He stared at his message in horror, moaning. “Oh... no... why did I write that? Why did I write that? There is no way I can just go to South Korea!”

“When?” She asked.

He groaned. He tried to backtrack in his message. “Not now. There are no more tickets. All of Tokyo is trying to get out of here right now.”

“I will contact my brother to buy you a ticket.”

“What? Wait!” He rubbed his head in frustration, turning his hair into a wild mess. “No I don’t want to impose. I can’t get to the airport anyway with the streets all wrecked. Just wait. When I get there, I will text you and we can meet up then.”

Mingfei felt himself getting more and more entangled in his own web of deception.

“You’ll buy me ice cream? When we play Pokemon Go? I really want to play Pokemon Go with Sakura.”

No matter how much he struggled, his heart made his fingers type the wrong messages. Mingfei’s face grew hot. Tears rolled down his cheeks. None of this was real. Nothing he said was real. None of this could happen!

“Are you scared?” Was her next message.

“No.” He whispered, head low in defeat. He took a breath and typed out what he felt would be his final messages to her. “I’m just sad because it seems I might not see you anymore. I just hope that you won’t be sad. That you’ll be happy in South Korea with your brother. I hope you will forget about Akira and me.”

“Why would I forget about you? I cannot forget about you. Does South Korea make you forget?”

He stared at the phone, tasting tears through his clenched teeth. “Because deep down I am a useless person. I’m not very strong. I get scared. I can’t fight with a sword like your brother. I can’t even escape this shelter or protect my friends. Please, go find someone in South Korea who is strong and beautiful and smart like you. When you find someone like that, you will forget me.”

“If South Korea will make me forget you, then I will not go.”

“No, Erii, you should go make your new life.”

“I don’t want a new life. I want Mingfei.”

“Erii! No!” He was trying to type so quickly. “You can’t come back here. You’ll die!”

“I am okay with dying. I nearly died before. But I was happy because I was with you. I will not be happy in South Korea if Mingfei is not there with me.”

--------

In the armored Cadillac, Erii tugged on Chime’s arm. She held up her notebook. “Tell him to stop the car.”

“She says to stop the car.” Chime told the driver.

The driver kept going. “I cannot stop the car,” he replied.

Erii nodded, unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door. Before Chime could do anything, she leaped from the vehicle, landed hard against the momentum, and began to run. The Cadillac skidded to a halt. The driver got out and yelled at her to stop.

Chime, confused, unbuckled himself and got out to run after her. “Erii! Where are you going? Come back!”

As he came around the trunk, he saw the driver jog a few steps, then reach into his coat. Chime’s eyes grew wide, recognizing the glint of a black pistol in the driver’s emerging hand.

Chime broke into a run to the driver. He was not strong, but he caught the driver by surprise, and wrapped himself around the driver’s arms. The gun discharged into the ground.

The driver twisted his body around and drove his knee into Chime’s stomach, laying him flat. He pointed the gun at him.

Erii turned at the gunshot, eyes flashing yellow.  Carli had warned her not to use her voice. The poison of the dragon’s blood in her veins could reassert itself.  But at that moment she couldn’t help herself even if it meant suffering a relapse. Chime was her second brother. As such, even if she didn’t know him well, he was sacred in her heart. She opened her mouth and a deluge of draconic curses homed in on the driver.

The man was instantly vaporized, snuffed out of existence like the flame of a candle.

Erii ran back to Chime who was still on the ground, winded, and helped him sit up. Her ears were ringing and she felt weak. 

“Erii, why did you do that?” He gasped, leaning on his knees.

 Her eyes shifted and she fidgeted. She didn’t have her phone or her notepad. She couldn’t communicate without risking Chime’s life. 

She would not have the chance to retrieve them. A loud bang and a wave of heat knocked them flat. Erii clapped her hands over her ears. Chime’s hands grabbed her under her shoulders and dragged her until she found her feet. She looked back. A fireball rolled upwards out of the car. The doors, the hood and the trunk had blown open, lifting bits of metal and shards of glass into the air. Chime wrapped his arm around Erii and hurried her away as the debris started to come down around them.

[moro-nokimi]

chapter 5: December 31, 2010

Summary: Shit gets real. Near continues to have refuge in his audacity and Naomi continues to be snarky.

NOTES: Two more chapters! Whew boy. We've got a live one up in here. Oh Near, we're really in it now. This bitch is almost 10k, so I BETTER get a review, ask, or reply talking ab how good this is. (This is a joke; no pressure.) TW: Death of a loved one, suicide mention, allusion to gun violence and sex.

ffn.online

“Light Yagami is a registered grad student at To-Oh University, but nobody has seen him on campus since he graduated. And the Japanese police have given all the employees false job titles to hide the fact they are members of the police force. He received letters of appreciation from the police in 2000 and 2002 for advice that led to resolved cases. I think it’s safe to say that these facts and the influence of his father point to him currently being with the police.

“When I asked former students what they remembered about him, several of them had interesting comments. He had the highest score in the entrance exam, but someone going by Hideki Ryuuga--the same name as the top idol back then---tied scores with Yagami. They gave the freshman address together, and were often seen with each other. But no photograph of this Hideki Ryuuga can be found.”

So was this L? Feels like suicide to me… then again, they don’t seem to instill Wammy’s alumni with a particular sense of self preservation, Naomi thought.

“I also received information that around June of 2004, Hideki Ryuuga, Light Yagami, and Misa Amane were seen together on university campus. After that, everyone seems to have lost track of this Ryuuga. Light Yagami and Misa Amane also went missing for several months at that time,” Rester finished.

“He used the name of a popular idol to get close to Light Yagami, whom he suspected of being Kira. It was a dangerous plan that assumed he wouldn’t be killed so long as Kira didn’t find out his real name. But then the Second Kira appeared, with the ability to learn people’s names just by looking at their faces. Then, they joined hands. Everything fits. Light Yagami is Kira, and Misa Amane being the Second Kira, and Hideki Ryuuga being L,” Near said.

“It corroborates the report we received that Mogi and Aizawa went straight to Amane’s place after leaving here,” Gevanni said.

“So the fact that Amane is Light’s fiancee is…,” Lidner added, avoiding Naomi’s eyes.

“No coincidence,” Naomi finished. “She was a loose cannon, just going back to when she first appeared. No doubt, he wants to keep her close to avoid any mishaps.”

Late at night and when everyone was distracted or asleep, Naomi finally had her chance.

“You’re still holding a grudge over what Mello did?” Lidner asked.

“I think it was a damn stupid thing to do, yes. No matter if Near said for you to go along with his wishes, he still walked in and you held me back from tackling him and ending the standoff,” Naomi seethed. She rarely found herself angry, but when she did, it was enough to make others recoil.

“He never would’ve forgiven you for the blow to his pride, and it would’ve just escalated things.”

“His pride is the least of my concerns, Lidner. He pointed a goddamn gun at Near and you wanted me to be worried about his pride? He. Almost. Killed. Near.”

“I never told you to be worried about anything.”

“Don't you fucking twist my words like that. You putting his pride over Near’s life says a lot.”

Lidner's brows had knit and her eyes had narrowed. “You’re complaining to me about double allegiances? At least they’re working together now, right?”

“The last thing I want is to be working with a criminal again.”

Lidner had chewed the inside of her mouth for a second before lowering her voice and adding, “Think of it like this. Your fiance is like Near: he asks too many questions before pulling the trigger. But in this case, Mello shoots first and asks questions later. Near needs that push to act.”

Naomi’s vocal volume spiked for a second, and this drew Rester and Gevanni’s attention:

“Raye exhausted all options to make sure his gun was the last resort!”

“That doesn’t sound like very good methodology to me," Lidner said sharply.

That was the last button Lidner pushed before Naomi snapped back, volume rising, “Don’t you fucking compare them! Raye was a good man, Mello is--”

“Is there a problem?” Rester asked. Gevanni was placid, eyes sliding between them, gears turning in his head.

“No,” said Lidner coolly, eyes boring into Naomi. Naomi was red with anger.

“I’m going out. If I’m not back for a couple hours, don’t worry.” She knew her hands were shaking.

She bunched her turtleneck to her mouth and screamed as soon as she was out of earshot. She cried later on her bike and almost ran a red light.

Naomi had the urge to scream now, just thinking back on it. She stepped outside and dug the photograph out of them on the beach. That had been a fun day. Suruga had taken the picture. He was also understandably irritated when Naomi told him about the incident.

“So she just uses something she told you in confidence like that? Sheesh,” Suruga said. “That’s just shitty.”

“I screamed. Not in the room, just as I was leaving.” Naomi shuddered. “I’m not proud of it.”

“You have every right to be irritated, Naomi. Again, talking about something she told you in confidence for the sake of a comparison was just low. Especially in earshot of your other coworkers and your boss.”

“I almost woke up my boss. I don’t think he would’ve been too happy, ha… Do you think about what would’ve happened if he lived, Suruga?”

He hadn’t responded. There was an implicit yes, but she supposed he feared crying more than being transparent with his friend.

“Men don’t like crying,” Audrey had explained. “Toxic masculinity says that men have to be these pinnacles of strength. The only emotion they show is anger, and so on. Hell, Raye was expressive, but he never liked crying, especially in front of me or you.”

Naomi figured there was some truth to that. But she also figured avoiding crying was unhealthy period. No way around it.

Though, she was one to talk.

She resisted the urge to cry and stepped back inside.

“Near, this NHN announcer Kiyomi Takada was a classmate of Light Yagami’s in college. She was an excellent student, and was on close terms with him, it seems,” Rester added.

“How do mean ‘close’?” Near asked.

“I can’t assume anything, but they looked to be more than friends. I don’t believe this is a coincidence.”

“But Light’s relationship with Amane started when he was in college, too,” Gevanni pointed out.

“I don’t believe anyone’s introduced you to the concept of male infidelity,” Naomi said dryly. "Clearly there's no accounting for taste."

“Commander Rester, can you get close to Takada?”

“I’ll give it a try, but… She’s more heavily protected by Kira worshippers than Demegawa ever was. I’d attribute it to her being a woman. To the worshippers, if Kira is their God, Takada is their goddess.”

Prophet, Naomi corrected.

“You said she was an excellent student, but that was only her grades. She’s downright stupid outside of class.”

This woman hosts debates and is knowledgeable about our political landscape, and she’s stupid because she worships Kira? Naomi thought. Audrey would’ve called this misogyny. I call it underestimation.

“It may be possible for me to get close to her among all the worshippers. But Mr Aizawa and Mogi have seen my face before. They may tell L about our movements.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. There’s no reason for them to get in the way of our investigation. I’m sure they won’t tell L you are a member of the SPK. And if that information is passed to L and you die, it means L is Kira. I find it hard to believe Kira would do such a thing before finding out about Mello and I, unless Kira is in a very tight situation.

“Gevanni, Lidner, Maki, would you like to go to Japan as well? It’s almost certain the one writing the names is in Japan. I think it’s a safe call based on the people killed, and from the fact an announcer from NHN was chosen as the spokesperson.”

Naomi wasn’t too impressed with Kiyomi Takada. It’s definitely not easy to keep up with Kira and what’s going on, but it was her blind loyalty and outright reverence to a murderer that chafed. She tried time and time again to put her personal ties to the Kira case aside, but it just wasn’t possible.

“Depending upon what their sin was, Kira will not tolerate people with a criminal record…,” Kiyomi Takada said. “Starting today, I will be introducing you to messages and requests from viewers as well as expressing my own opinion on some matters. Many of the countries and companies claim to support Kira now…”

Naomi shook her head and tuned the rest of it out.

“... But that is a mere empty promise, and we do not know how they are supporting Kira or should be supporting Kira. I feel that in order to create a peaceful world as fast as we can, Kira should give orders to the army and police of each country on how they should act. I would like Kira to give a reply to this and…”

Near turned on his PA. “Rester, find out who Takada saw last night. Whatever it takes.”

Rester nodded. “Well, Kiyomi Takada is being protected unbelievably well, and even getting near her is tough. I never expected it to be this difficult. A reporter who tried to investigate the meeting last night was caught by the guards and accused of breaking and entering, then got killed by Kira on the 9 o’clock news. Her phone is completely untraceable and bug proof. She’s better guarded than the president.”

“Speaking from experience?” Naomi asked. The thought of things becoming that authoritarian worried her, despite her wisecrack.

“Very funny, Maki. All her guards are people who’ve participated in TV programs pertaining to Kira many times, and whose backgrounds can be easily traced. It’s incredibly hard to get in.”

“Gevanni and Lidner should be getting back to Japan shortly. Please get near her any way you can,” Near said.

“Near, Takada went into the Perin Hotel. Until she comes out, no one is allowed to enter or leave unless requested by Takada,” Rester said.

“Then you’re going to have to try to become one of Takada’s trusted bodyguards at the very least,” Near said.

“I’ll do my best.”

December 12 “We’re trying to get on Takada’s personal bodyguard team, but the hurdles are getting higher. We need more time,” Rester said.

“Very well. I had a feeling it would be like that,” Near replied. “Maki, would you mind making flight arrangements?”

“Yeah, just a second.”

While she cleared her cookies and went searching for airplane tickets, Near called the Japanese task force.

“This is Near. I’d like to talk to L.”

“This is L speaking.”

“It’s been a while. Thank you for keeping the connection open.”

“What do you want?”

That’s no way to greet someone, Naomi thought.

“I am in Japan to capture Kira. Right now, actually,” Near said. He snipped away at paper. “Seeing as how the best way to investigate Kira is to start with Kiyomi Takada and all.”

L paused. “I’m in Japan already, doing just that. If you’d like to cooperate, I’m willing to do so as well. But since you’re suspicious of me, I guess that’s not possible.”

Near’s brow furrowed. It quickly turned into a scowl. “Did you just say ‘I’?”

“Yes. I’ve personally gotten into contact with Takada and am making headway in the investigation.”

In more ways than one, I think, Naomi thought.

“We’ve gotten as far as having our investigator, Mogi, be able to enter NHN.”

So he knows we’re trying to get into NHN ourselves. Or is hypothesizing as so. With these geniuses, any hypothesis automatically means they know something.

“We’ll find a way to get into NHN as well, but there’s one more thing. You said you’ve personally contacted Takada and are investigating her, right? Then please tell Takada however you can that members of the SPK have escaped from the Kira worshippers in New York have entered Japan to capture Kira. Judging from the current world situation and her position, that’s the type of news she’ll have to report.

“You can even say that there are five members of the group including Near, the leader. There are four other members that Mr Mogi and Mr Aizawa met. This isn’t a lie, so it’ll be a true report. If either of the aforementioned men see them near NHN, please feel free to tell L. We don’t want to get in the way of your investigation. But please don’t show their faces as members of the SPK on TV or via other media outlets. This report is to lure out Kira.

“Including me, there’s only five of us. There’s no way Kira is going to find out, and I’m sure that Kira will make a move to try and kill us. That is where I intend to counterstrike and defeat Kira.”

Oh, great, so we’re being used as bait. I’d rather I was the killing shot, Naomi thought, and slammed her laptop lid closed.

“There are five members altogether in Japan. Is that it for the message, Near?”

“Yes. I’d gathered people who could work under me, but now that the situation has changed, numbers aren’t important. I’m in Japan. Since you are as well, we may come face to face.”

“True.”

“And that will be something worth looking forward to.”

“Indeed.”

“We’ll bring Kira to an end once and for all.”

“Of course.”

Well, he’s taciturn all of a sudden. And here I thought he’d never shut up, seeing as how all the other meetings have been.

“The only way to restore the world now is to get rid of Kira and the existing notebooks. If we succeed in both of those objectives, we win. If we die, Kira wins. This battle was not about an arrest or something measured by the laws of this world. It’s always been a one-one battle to prove who’s on top.”

Near turned the PA off.

“You’re playing a zero-sum game, Near,” Naomi said.

“You don’t have to tell me that. The original L was doing the same thing. Commander Rester, where are Gevanni and Lidner now?”

“Right now, they’re in a booked room near NHN.”

“Please connect me to them.”

“Pay close attention to what I’m about to say. I have decided to meet L---rather, Kira---in person in the near future and settle this case once and for all.”

“In person?” Gevanni repeated, the poor guy surprised into echolalia.

“Do you mean you’re going to see him face to face and capture him?” Lidner asked.

“Yes. The world is practically in Kira’s hands now. But, in Kira’s nearly completed world, only the SPK members, Mello, the Japanese task force, and I remain in Kira’s way. I remain the biggest problem as well, since he can’t easily get my name or face.

“It seems Mello’s name has already been discovered, and he’s also wanted for the murder of the Japanese police director and deputy director.

“As we all know, he lets his emotions control him. Kira may think it will be easy to kill him using his followers. If Kira succeeds in killing me, he will very likely kill the rest of you, and the Japanese task force.

“Since I, his biggest headache, who hasn’t made a move until now am now making said move, Kira will not miss this opportunity to kill me. And the fact that he’s said he’s willing to meet me means he’s accepted my challenge. The die is cast. Whether we like it or not, we must make our move.

“Let’s examine this situation. L is Light Yagami and Light Yagami is Kira. We know for sure that L would answer yes if we asked if he was Light Yagami, seeing as how he told us he’d personally gotten into contact with Takada, as well as Maki’s account of meeting him five years ago. But he will obviously deny the fact that he’s Kira. There’ve been many incidents to make us suspect he’s Kira, but no solid proof.”

Naomi was rather bitter that things could’ve gone very differently if she’d not regarded Light’s “selling” of the Japanese task force as a bit too maudlin to be genuine. Mostly at herself. She’d learned her lesson then: hard evidence only, no circumstantial evidence will be taken as fact whatsoever.

“There’s almost no doubt that he’s Kira. I’m 99.9999 percent sure. The lack of proof is the only reason it’s not a hundred percent.

“Kira… let’s call him L-Kira. Around him are several people who know of the existence of the notebook, such as Aizawa, Mogi, and the others. However, L-KIra is not using the notebook himself. That’s because there are others around him keeping an eye on him and the notebook. Obviously, there’s another who has the notebook and is using it. That’s X-Kira. Based on the fact that L-KIra has used Misa Amane in the past, as well as with relation to the attack on Mello’s hideout, I think that L-Kira does not have the Shinigami eyes. But judging from the killings of recent criminals, X-Kira definitely has the eyes. Of course, both Kiras are connected in some way. But since L-Kira is being watched, it would be almost impossible for him to get in direct contact with X-Kira.

“So, they use Takada. Note how Kira’s messages are spread through NHN, and L-Kira and Takada can meet in person without arousing suspicion. At the moment, both Kiras are able to send messages to and through Takada. Though she may be only Kira’s puppet, we can’t deny she’s highly important to us in discovering X-Kira.

“I likely don’t have to explain this, but this is a recap of the situation. I see two ways to defeat Kira. The first is…” Naomi cringed as Near pulled the trigger on the toy gun and knocked over the legos. “We kill L- and X-Kira and confiscate the notebooks. If the killings stop, it means we are correct.”

“Right. That would prove L---Light Yagami---was Kira,” Rester said.

Near returned the cork to the barrel of the revolver. “We are almost positive that L is Kira, so I’m confident we can solve this case. But we won’t be using this method, no matter what.”

“Why not?”

“Even if the killings stop, it doesn’t really prove that Light Yagami is Kira. Since no one is using the notebook at the task force headquarters, there’s always a chance that the killings stopped because of X-Kira’s death. And the killings may continue if there are Y- and Z-Kiras.

“Most important of all, we kill those two and the killings stop, then to say see, we were right… such an ex post facto justification will not be tolerated. That’s not the way we do things.”

“We?”

“Of course, we being me and L. He wouldn’t be happy if we did that.”

Naomi was still ruminating on the possibility of X-Kira’s identity. She figured it would have to be an acquaintance of Takada’s but not Yagami’s, so it would leave a pool of up to a hundred people who were regulars on her debate show.

In another life, while her and Rester were discussing this during the C-Kira case and Rester would say this and shrug and say “like it would offend L’s spirit or something”, Naomi would shrug, too, and say, “Well, that means he centers his identity on being L’s true successor.” And Lidner would take a seat on the counter and say, “That could be used as an advantage some day, by someone unsavory.”

“It would be an insult to L, who entrusted those who came after him with this case.”

And then Rester would mention that line. Naomi had sat back in her chair and folded her arms. “You’d better hope someone wouldn’t decide to create another impossible to solve case,” Naomi would say. If she closed her eyes, she could see B’s burning silhouette.

“Hence, even if we are going to kill L- and X-Kira, first we must rub their faces in the evidence and make them taste the misery of their defeat. It’s out of the question to kill them before that. So we get solid proof.”

“And how will we do that?”

“Have him use the notebook and arrest him on the spot.”

Naomi’s throat went dry.

“Then the person whose name was written will die. Do you have any plans for that?’

“Not at the moment, no. But we no longer have other ways to get proof. But I’ll think of something. When we first meet Kira, the first person he’ll write down is me, so.” Lowering his voice, Near held the miniature notebook replica. “Now what will I do…”

Holding the L-Kira labelled lego, he added, “But just as I said now, killing Kira and confiscating the notebook with hopes that the killings will stop is a plan Kira will assume we have. We may be able to use that to our advantage. But for the time being, our job is to find out who is executing the criminals as Kira. And in order to do that, we must investigate NHN and Kiyomi Takada, even though Kira knows we will be doing it.”

December 14 “The Japanese police announced at three PM today that five members of the SPK who escaped from New York have entered Japan. The police are initiating a full search for these people and are calling out for public support,” Kiyomi Takada said.

To say Naomi was unsurprised was an understatement. Takada had expressed such authoritarian views before, so this was no surprise. But the police being willing to hunt them down and be the footsoldiers for a regime like this was the cherry on top of a shit sundae.

The latest ass-kissing program (Today’s Lady Takada) began.

“Today, Lady Takada chose four female bodyguards from 20 finalists who went through rigorous testing. These four glorious women are Tatsumi Ooyama, champion of the women’s 60KG weight class in the 22nd world karate championship. Former CIA agent, Hal Lidner…

“These four all passed the tests and…”

“It’s just as you said, Near,” Rester said. “Sooner or later, Takada needed female bodyguards, which she didn’t have until now. Being with the CIA formerly made it easier for Halle to be chosen, but it’ll make it easier for Kira to notice her as well.”

“Yes… I am grateful to Lidner for putting the investigation before her safety. By the way, Commander Rester, have you been able to come up with an answer for this?”

“If I was Kira, who would I have chosen for the spokesperson after Demegawa?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t watch and listen to several screens at the same time. I can’t do it in only five days. I need more time.”

“Gevanni said the same. I was merely going to use your opinions as a reference. Don’t think too hard about it. An answer off the top of your head will suffice. Maki?”

“An easier solution would be to look at each segment of each news channel separately. You’ll lose out on sleep, but maybe you’ll have more input that way,” Naomi said.

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

“I know. If I were Kira, I’d go for someone I know and has a platform. As for X-Kira…”

“So long as it’s not someone extreme like Demegawa, they all look the same as a possibility for Kira’s spokesperson,” Rester said.

“I can’t decide either, but I wouldn’t have chosen Takada. No matter of her and Yagami’s acquaintance, she’s still a rookie announcer,” Gevanni said.

“Agreed. It seems she’s popular, having gotten second place in a magazine poll. There are, of course, more male announcers with more experience and dignified demeanors. So why was Takada chosen? It could just be that Takada is the type of woman Kira fancies, but I think it was because…”

Naomi couldn't hold back a snort.

“Takada was a Kira worshipper and Kira knew about it. The reason Demegawa was chosen is because he zealously used Sakura TV to support Kira even before the world began leaning towards him. It would’ve been easy for Kira to threaten someone into being the spokesperson, but it would be to his advantage if the spokesperson supported Kira.

“Well, in Takada’s case, I’m sure she was chosen because she’s a Kira worshipper. Here’s a comment by Takada from last night’s news.”

He turned on a clip of Takada.

“I feel that it is necessary for schools to educate children about Kira, and that Kira’s teachings are the proper way to live.”

“Ever since she started making comments to Kira, Takada’s been nothing but a stupid Kira worshipper.”

“That’s not stupidity, that’s authoritarianism and incredibly worrying,” Naomi said. "She very much has her own agenda." … So could we be looking at her becoming Kira point blank, or does she want to be his follower and nothing more?

“True. But it’s also true that Takada’s words are affecting the public, which is filled with stupid people. To Kira, this is great.”

"It's quite easy to assume that because someone supports something authoritarian that they lack the ability to rub two brain cells together. It's much scarier to think about Kira supporters being our lawyers, our realtors, etcetera," Naomi said. Near shrugged.

“Then if we believe Light Yagami is Kira, does that mean he chose Takada because he was on intimate terms with her in college and knew her feelings towards Kira?” Rester asked. That’s generous, Naomi thought.

“No, Takada only started making pro-Kira remarks after the meeting at the hotel. L/Light Yagami claims that he’s in contact with Kira for the investigation. And I’m sure that we’ll be able to confirm that with Mr Aizawa and the others.

“Therefore, if L-Kira/Light Yagami chose Takada, he would’ve been able to get Takada to make pro-Kira remarks from the moment she became the spokesperson. But in reality, Takada only started making pro-Kira comments the day after the meeting. She also spoke directly to Kira in the comment, so I can only assume that L-Kira made her say this comment, since he hasn’t gotten into contact with X-Kira at that point. Same with Takada before the meeting. That’s likely because Mr Aizawa and the others had their eyes on him and had doubts. That means Takada was chosen as the spokesperson through X-Kira’s personal judgement.”

“But isn’t it possible L-Kira ordered X-Kira to kill Demegawa and choose Takada as the next spokesperson before Aizawa and the others began to watch over him?” Rester asked.

“I won’t say that it’s impossible, but after Demegawa died, it was a week before Takada was chosen as the next spokesperson. Even if L-Kira had ordered X-Kira to use Takada after Demegawa died, it would be meaningless and odd to order X-Kira to wait a week.” He leaned down to inspect a black lego. “So it fits better to assume that X-Kira, unable to get in contact with L-Kira, killed Demegawa and then took a week to decide who to choose as the next spokesperson.”

“Then that proves Maki right, that X-Kira has some kind of connection with Takada,” Rester said.

“Yes. I understand that it’s dangerous to investigate Takada right now, but could you please look into it with Gevanni again?”

Both agreed.

“I’m going to start off by tracing all of the programs that Takada has appeared on, Starting with the most recent ones and looking at the regulars. Maki, would you mind taking record of these people?”

“Of course.”

On a hunch, she dug up a previous survey of one Teru Mikami. Near practically swam through all the DVDs to find Kira’s Kingdom, coming to a stop in front of all the monitors in front of Mikami speaking about Kira’s ideals.

“The reason I became a prosecutor is because of the frustration and helplessness I felt over all the physical and emotional abuse I witnessed as a child. All the young people going into the world should have their own goals and use their abilities to contribute to society.”

The click of a remote, and next she heard:

“I would very much like to hear Kira’s voice again, and I intend to follow your ideals. I believe that following your orders and teachings is the quickest way to achieve world peace. Kira, please let me hear your voice. If there are no orders or words from Kira, I believe that I am going to have to judge by myself what Kira’s thoughts may be, and put them into action.”

Naomi looked up from the survey.

“Near, I think you want to take a look at this.”

Right on his survey on the question of his opinion on Kira, the answer was listed as “God.”

Near peered over her shoulder, and turned on his PA to Rester.

“You no longer need to look into Takada’s friends and associates. Please come back to HQ, as Maki and I have just found a suspect. I’ll ask you to start investigating again if my assumption is wrong.”

“You’ve already found a suspect?”

“We’re good at looking," Naomi said.

December 21 “According to Lidner, Mogi is acting as Amane’s manager, which means he will often be away from L’s headquarters,” Rester said.

“That’s right,” Near replied.

“We can get Lidner to ask Mogi if they have their eyes on L when he is meeting Takada. That way, L won’t find out what we’re investigating.”

“But Mogi probably won’t tell us. And it’s highly likely that both Kiras are contacting each other through Takada. They know that we know it, so there’s no reason for us to go sneaking.”

Obviously, being clandestine isn’t our strong suit, Naomi thought, and passed Near the PA to L.

“L, if Mr Aizawa is there with you right now, is it okay for me to talk to him in person through this?”

“It’s Aizawa. What’s the problem?”

“When L meets with Takada, are you recording their conversations through wires and cameras?”

“No, we’re only using wires.”

“I see… Thank you.”

She set the PA aside and rolled her neck.

“If it’s only a wire, we can assume that L- and X-Kira are getting into contact with another through Takada. This only makes things more dangerous for Lidner. All of Takada’s bodyguards have their cell phone records checked. We can’t directly contact Lidner, so is that all right?” Rester asked.

“Lidner is well aware of the danger, but the important thing is that she is still trying to find out who X-Kira is through Takada and we have no clue as to the identity of X-Kira, so L’s attention will lie with them," Near said.

“Gevanni?” Rester asked.

“It’s about Mikami. Tailing him is strangely easy. It’s not like he’s making a move to go into hiding or anything. He’s been living at the same place for the past four years and leads an ordinary life. He’s very active with his job as well. I understand he’s a Kira worshipper from the fact he was on Kira’s Kingdom, but I find it hard to believe he could be X-Kira.”

“It’s not like Kira’s going to be waving his arms around saying ‘I kill people for justice’,” Naomi said.

“Thanks, Maki. I appreciate your input.”

“No problem.”

“The chances of Mikami being X-Kira are high, even ignoring his personal endeavors. Please be careful. Don’t try to enter his house or anything else yet. Just keep your eye on him.”

“Of course. You should try this, Maki, it’s very fun.”

Too familiar. “Stalking isn’t my idea of fun. I’d be worried if I didn’t know you were joking.”

“Please,” Rester said.

“Mikami just pulled the notebook out. There’s something---ugh, weird about it. He took a picture of the guy who was harassing a girl before writing in the notebook. He’s getting off the train, I’ll follow---” Gevanni said.

A high pitched scream followed.

“The guy who was doing the harassing just collapsed, about a half minute after his name was written… but that leaves me curious as to what the purpose to taking the picture was. And he said delete while writing it.”

“O-kay. X-Kira is definitely Mikami,” Rester said.

“Yes, but that also makes the possibility known of there being a Y-Kira,” Near said.

“So what do we do? Aren’t we going to capture Mikami?”

“Commander Rester. Please don’t make me repeat myself. Even though we know for sure that Mikami is X-Kira, we’re not going to use that method. If we do that, we’re never going to be able to get to L. If we capture Mikami, we may even face the situation that the killings stop and Mikami will appear to everyone to be Kira.

“All will be meaningless unless we prove the Light Yagami is Kira, the root of all this, and stop him.”

“Right…”

“In any event, we must get near Mikami, but there is one thing we must be extra careful about. And that is the Shinigami.”

Naomi raised an eyebrow. She’d never particularly believed in them, even as her dad told her that they take children who don’t go to sleep by 10pm’s souls. (Because what is the point of parenting if you can’t scare them a little.)

“The Japanese task force once told us that in order to get the notebook back from Mello, Kira gave the Japanese HQ a different notebook from that of Mello’s via a Shinigami. That means a Shinigami followed Kira’s orders and brought the notebook to them. And that means the Shinigami possessing Mikami will follow Mikami’s orders. So if we are going to tail Mikami from now on, there’s a chance that Mikami’s Shinigami will alert him.”

Rester said, “But the Shinigami can only be seen by those who’ve touched the notebook. Being careful of something you can’t see isn’t easy.”

“Even so, I would like you to do it. But this time, you may keep some distance from him and film his movements. It would be best if you can get an image of him talking to the Shinigami.”

“All right. I’ll see what I can do.”

December 25 If they only have wires, they’d just have to not say something out loud if they wanted to avoid being caught by the task force, Naomi thought.

Her attention was drawn by a notification that Lidner was on the monitor.

“I’m sorry, I’ve hardly had time to be alone. It was four days ago. Takada, Amane, and me met up. The conversation was really only about which of them was ‘his’---really meaning Light Yagami’s girlfriend,” Lidner said.

Naomi rolled her eyes. “So it was a covert catfight?”

“What does it mean?” Rester asked. Lidner’s expression just about screamed Are you shitting me?

“That Light Yagami’s a two timer?” Naomi said, as Near replied, “This just proves that Light Yagami is a ladykiller. Takada and Amane are infatuated with him. Though I’d be inclined to agree with Maki’s summary.”

“Seriously, Near?” Rester asked. “You too, Maki.”

“And they went after each other instead of going after Light for being a two timer.” Naomi shook her head and rolled her eyes.

“But being seriously infatuated can be a problem. They won’t betray him, and he can control them as he wants. However, what I’m more worried about is that there’s been nothing new in Gevanni’s reports,” Near said.

“But he reported today that Mikami pulled out the notebook and killed someone. Or had him killed, if we’re going with the Y-Kira hypothesis.”

“Not the notebook, but the Shinigami. If a Shinigami is possessing him, it would be normal to say a word or two to each other in three days. If they’ve decided not to talk to each other in public, then it doesn’t make sense that he pulled the notebook twice this week in front of everyone to kill someone. And then it’s strange that…”

“What is?”

“The Shinigami at L’s headquarters can be seen by the other members. That means that apart from Light Yagami, they’re also keeping a close watch on the notebook and the Shinigami. Obviously, L-Kira is not able to give orders or talk to Shinigami that easily. But judging from the fact that Kira probably got his notebook from L-Kira, then only L-Kira and Mikami should be able to see the Shinigami on that notebook.

“And if that’s so, why didn’t they get into contact with each other by using that Shinigami? It’s a lot safer than making contact through Takada, and if only the two of them can see the Shinigami, there should have been a way for them to get into contact.”

Naomi stretched her legs, careful to avoid the legos, and swivelled until she was laying on her front. “That also means the task force has touched the notebook.”

Rester’s knees popped as he got onto Near’s level. “Now that you mention it… But the only thing I can think of is that there are Shinigami that will work for you and those that won’t.”

“Yes. Or the members of the task force can see Mikami’s Shinigami too. Mello said that he’d seen a Shinigami. While he had his own, L’s investigation team must have had their own Shinigami as well. Mr Aizawa and Mogi have claimed to have seen a Shinigami that was different from the one that their headquarters. That could be possible.”

The monitors beeped.

“Gevanni?” Rester asked.

“Mikami’s talking to himself!”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, I’m wondering if he’s talking to the Shinigami. I’m too far away from him to hear what he’s saving, but I’ve been able to film his mouth as it moves. The footage is here.” Gevanni sent the footage to the monitor where everyone could see it. “It’s at the rooftop of the prosecutor’s office where Mikami works, during a break. Oh---he’s saying something right here.”

“Slow it down.” Rester leaned towards the monitors and read Mikami’s lips word-for-word perfect. “I guess he’s asking if it’s his Shinigami?”

“I see you aren’t a commander for nothing,” Near said.

“He seems to have reacted to the piece of paper to the bottom right of him.”

“He’s giving a small sigh.”

“He’s talking a little more from here. Give me a second, I’m going to zoom up to his mouth and slow down the footage.”

“That Shinigami… ever since he handed me the notebook, he hasn’t appeared…,” Rester said.

“Huh,” Naomi said. She pushed herself off the floor and into a squatting position.

“So there’s no Shinigami possessing Mikami at the moment.”

“But that makes me wonder if there’s a time limit as to when the Shinigami can appear to Mikami,” Naomi said.

“True…”

Near threw one of the Grim Reaper legos over his shoulder without comment.

“It makes things easier for our investigation if Mikami isn’t being possessed by a Shinigami. We may even be able to find proof from him that Light Yagami is Kira.”

“Yes…”

“Gevanni here. I’m at Mikami’s apartment. I’ve counted two surveillance cameras at the door to his room from my position. I’m assuming that the security inside is even tighter so even if I’m able to get inside, it’s going to be hard for me to remain unnoticed.”

“The tenants gotta be loaded if there’s security cameras everywhere,” Naomi said.

“Mikami makes 200 grand a year easily, not counting bonuses. Anyways, when he’s outside, Mikami just leaves the notebook inside his bag, so it’s not seriously guarded. But it would be undoubtedly strange if he did keep his guard up in public.”

“Commander Rester, I would like you and Gevanni to research Mikami’s behaviour patterns as much as possible, and look for any opportunity that might let us touch the notebook.”

“I thought you weren’t going to confiscate the notebook from him,” Rester said.

“Yes. I won’t use Mikami and the notebook as proof. The chances are that Mikami doesn’t have a Shinigami of his own, but we can’t be sure until we touch the notebook and monitor Mikami for several days. Of course, there’s a possibility that Mikami does have a Shinigami possessing him, and that the Shinigami will tell Mikami that we touched the notebook and have him kill us. But even so, from all the observation so far, it’s likely that Mikami’s Shinigami isn’t very cooperative with him.”

“So who’s going to touch the notebook? Me or Gevanni?”

“Well, since you’re his superior… Gevanni, I guess.”

Naomi cringed.

“I appreciate the support, Maki.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“If there is no Shinigami possessing Mikami, then there’s a plan I’d like to see put into action. But if there isn’t, I’m going to have to make some changes.”

“Very well. I’ll keep my eye on Mikami.”

“Mr Aizawa. It’s been a while,” Near said.

“I believe what you said earlier. L and Takada have been seeing each other almost every night,” Aizawa said.

“I know.”

“What about this? The two are talking to each other via notepads. I left a mark on the notepads at the hotel, and…”

“Of course. As I said before, I know what’s going on. Kira is using the notepad to give orders to X-Kira through Takada. X-Kira being the person who’s doing the killings. Anyways, it’s commendable that you found this out on your own. But it does little for us unless you’ve found any actual notes.”

“I haven’t found them yet…”

“Then it means nothing. Those notes can be ripped up and flushed down the toilet or merely handed over to Takada to dispose of, since no one can search her bodily. In other words, there are a million ways to dispose of them.”

“You said that if we could get one note, it’ll be proof! I can talk to other members of the task force and have one of them hide inside the room once it’s booked. The wire detectors don’t react to people and I can pretend to have checked the place where the investigator is hiding. That way it’ll be possible to get one of the notes before they’re thrown away.”

“Mr Aizawa…,” Near said, “please stay out of the way.”

“What do you mean?”

Near underlined just why Aizawa intervening was such a bad idea.

“Unless they were to institute cameras in certain spots,” Naomi pointed out.

“But they run the risk of detection either way,” Near pointed out. “Obviously, all of your identities have been revealed to whoever is doing Kira’s killings. They know who you are. Kira probably has it set up so he can kill you all with the snap of a finger. The only reason you’re all still alive is because of me. There’s no other reason now that everything has fallen into Kira’s hands.

“Though, if you are able to get that notepad and are killed, I could use that as proof that L is Kira. But I already know that, so it’s useless to me. It’s not the way to go. If you do this, it’ll only allow Kira to move about freely, and it’s nothing but a headache for me. Even if Kira’s identity is proven to the world, most people are still going to take Kira’s side. And even if that happens, even I will no longer be a threat to Kira. Do you follow?

“Mr Aizawa, it’s not longer a matter of merely finding evidence that L is Kira. The only way to stop Kira is for me to completely defeat him and rub it into his face.” He held up his own lego figure. “Mr Aizawa, I’m sorry to say, but Kira doesn’t even consider the task force a threat. You’re not worth dealing with to him. He sees you as a bunch of flies buzzing around him.” Near took his Kira figurine and knocked down the task force’s lego models. “However, he’ll never be able to ignore me. That’s because, to Kira, I’m his current opponent in the battle for pride between him and L. The only way to stop Kira is for me to defeat him.

“Mr Aizawa, you and the task force are no longer a part of this battle. Please stay out of our way. This is the reality of things. However, if you still wish to capture Kira and continue to cooperate with me. Just keep an eye on him like you’ve been doing. That’s the best thing you can do for me and this investigation.”

“Just keep an eye on him…”

“That’s right. Anything more will just be a nuisance to me. The plan is almost set, and I do not want you to do anything that may disrupt it. Kira is also in the midst of coming up with a plan to defeat me. As such, any moves on your part will be a waste of time.”

“Are you saying that we’re of no significance now?”

“No. There is a significance in keeping an eye on L, and that is a part of my plan. And that is how I want you to cooperate with me in order to bring down Kira.” He lined up the figurines made of the task force. “Kira kills people without a second thought as if they were bugs, but it’s very likely that he will keep you all alive until time comes to fight face to face with me. I want you to see this through to the end, to Kira’s defeat.”

Silence.

“Mr Aizawa…?”

“Okay.”

She did feel for the guy. If someone said that she couldn't do anything of use, she'd be unhappy too.

December 31 Happy birthday, Raye, Naomi thought. Kira will go down and I’ll be thinking of you the whole time.

She held her phone away from her ear as Misa Amane screamed in the backseat of Lidner’s car. “She’s temperamental isn’t she?”

“Yup,” Rester said.

“I guess Kiyomi’s angry at me again, but this’ll teach her a lesson. She’s lost face now as the host of the show!” Amane said.

“Is the lesson going to be not letting her perform on NHN again?” Naomi asked, rolling her eyes.

“What is it, L?” Near asked.

“Mogi and Misa Amane have gone missing.”

“Yes. I’ve taken the liberty of bringing them into my custody.”

The task force began cussing Near out.

“What for?” L asked.

Near smirked. “Just to be on the safe side.”

Silence. Naomi was beginning to wish they’d put away their dicks and rulers.

“Near, kidnapping and confining people is criminal! Please stop, this instant!”

You sound like you’re chastising a child instead of trying to order Near to let your employee and one of your girlfriends go, Naomi thought.

“Well, Mr Mogi and Amane have agreed to cooperate with me. They won’t be staying with me, but you can talk to them if you want to. Should I connect you to them?”

“I must find out if they are safe, and if what you’re saying is true, then connect me to them.”

“Sure.” He patched L through to the mic in Mogi and Misa’s room.

“Mogi, Misa, it’s L. I heard you’ve been imprisoned by Near, but is it true that you agreed to it?”

“Yes,” Mogi said.

“Mochi said that it would be better for us to stay put until the whole Kira ordeal is over. If not, we might all be killed, so I’m fine with that. I just want to live happily with my boyfriend once Kira’s caught.”

Naomi’s chest panged. I wanted that too, she thought.

“Very well. If you two are fine with that. There are no problems, but please remember you can leave any time you want to. I’ll be switching back to speak with Near now. Near, I’ve talked with them, and I’m okay with everything.”

She ducked her head as she wiped her eyes. I don’t think Near’s too inclined to be asking for permission or your forgiveness.

“L, if I pose as you and announce to the world about the existence of the notebook and of my speculations on who Kira really is, a lot of people will probably believe me. If I do that, there are definitely going to be people who’ll try to kill Kira, but Kira isn’t going to just stand there and be killed. He’ll make use of his worshippers to try and stop that. I don’t want such meaningless bloodshed to occur. So I’ll bring this to an end by defeating Kira myself.”

L’s tone rankled. The condescension and babying she’d put up with for a long time, whether it was at a boss or coworker’s hands, and L was just another shitheel boss who thought he knew better than someone else of arguably more expertise.

“Near, your speculations are wrong. You mustn’t announce to the world what is a mere assumption on your part.”

“You’re right. I’m going to end this by pinning solid proof right in front of Kira’s face. But if my assumptions are wrong, then… Well, even if my assumptions are correct, but if I lose to Kira, then the world will no doubt be his. When that happens, Kira will kill me and all of those who are aware of the notebook’s existence. Only then is it a complete victory for Kira.”

“Near, the world is close to being Kira’s perfect world already, so we must capture him as soon as possible. That is the only point on which I agree with you today.”

“ … Anyway, it’s incredibly likely that Misa Amane was the second Kira who had the Shinigami eyes. Therefore, I’ve decided to keep her contact in case Kira wants to use her again. I intend to keep her here until the Kira incident comes to an end. Rather, until I give her permission to leave. L, I’m sure you’re well aware of the present situation even if I don’t say any more.”

The task force debated this current situation.

“Apart from the fact that he leaves his office at slightly different times depending on his workload, Mikami’s habits are completely fixed. He’s also a bit of a neat freak,” Gevanni relayed.

“And every Thursday and Sunday, he attends the gym from nine to 10:30 pm?” Near asked.

“Yes. I’ve become a member myself to do research on that. Ever since he joined four years ago, he’s been going to the gym on those days at that time. Near Year’s day 2006 was a Sunday, and he went to the gym on that day as well. The only reason I can think of for him to have picked a hotel gym that’s open all year is because he wants to go on those specific days at that time.”

“Then I suppose it’s safe to say that he’ll be going there on the 31st.”

Naomi clenched her teeth. She’d almost forgotten in the midst of all this.

“Well. Yes. I don’t see a reason why he wouldn’t. I don’t believe he’s devout Shinto or goes to the temples.”

Near paused. “Gevanni, is it possible for you to touch the notebook at the gym on the 31st?”

“I’ll probably be able to. The lock on his bag won’t be an issue, but the location may be… No matter, either way.”

“Have you checked on the security system at the hotel?”

“Yes. There’s surveillance cameras inside the hotel, but none in the locker room for obvious reasons.”

“Right. If Mikami is at the gym on New Year’s, touch the notebook. Takada will be hosting the show, but I’ll distract L just in case.”

“What are the chances that a Shinigami is possessing him?”

“I don’t believe there’s one near him, but I’m asking you to touch the notebook to check that. If there is one, then that’s that. I’m going to have to think of another plan. Even if you want to touch the notebook and don’t see the Shinigami, I want you to keep your eye on him for a while to be sure that there is no Shinigami possessing him.”

“But if there is, I’ll probably die, right?”

“Yes. If you’re scared, I can have Rester do it.”

“It’s all right. I’ll do it.”

“Please be extra careful not to be noticed by Mikami either.”

“Of course.”

“Mikami and Gevanni would have left the hotel around eleven, and then he tails Mikami back to his house. It should be about time for Gevanni to call us,” Rester said. He took off his suit jacket and placed it over the back of a chair.

“Ooh, I can’t do anything until they catch Kira… Why am I here anyway?” Misa Amane whined.

“I’m surprised you didn’t say 2300 hours. You’re supposed to be a commander,” Naomi said.

“Very funny, Maki.”

“I try.”

Near’s thoughts were somewhere else: “Misa Amane, the person suspected of being the second Kira by the first L…”

Rester said, “But she didn’t say anything even when she was confined for more than 50 days. I don’t think you can get any information from her. Anyway, we’re talking about a notebook that can kill people. It probably has powers beyond comprehension. Of course, trying to find that out is our job, but…”

“I know. I wasn’t expecting to get any new information from Amane. This is only so Gevanni will feel a little easier about touching the notebook and in case Kira needs her eyes.”

A notification went up that Gevanni was onscreen. “It’s Gevanni. How’d it go?”

“I’ve successfully touched the notebook. But I haven’t confirmed the presence of the Shinigami yet.” He checked his watch. “I touched the notebook at 9:09. Mikami returned home at 12:07 and I tailed him back to his house.”

“And during those three hours, you didn’t see the Shinigami, is that right?’

“Yes.”

“Please continue to keep an eye on him.”

“Okay.”

“Commander Rester, please connect me to Mr Mogi. Mr Mogi, do you remember the rules of death when Higuchi was doing those death meetings at Yotsuba?’

“The rules of death? That sounds scary…,” Misa Amane said. Naomi rolled her eyes. Of course, she’d been in the job for roughly a decade, she’s desensitized. Though if Misa Amane is the second Kira, she ought to be too.

“I disagree with you when it comes to your assessment of Kiyomi Takada’s assessment, but if you called Amane stupid, I wouldn’t disagree.”

“Mm.”

Mogi looked up. “I do. It’s been quite a while now, but…”

“In return for information on Mello, I was told by the new L about the rules written inside the notebook and about the rules of death. If a person is to die of an illness, unless it takes longer for that illness to progress, the notebook is able to control people for up to 23 days before their deaths. Is that right?” Near poked at his Mogi figurine.

“Yes. It’s not that we tested it out ourselves, but the killings at Yotsuba proved that.”

“Thank you very much.” Near shut off the PA and added, “Then let us consider the possibility that there is a Shinigami possessing Mikami’s notebook, and it has already told Mikami that Gevanni has touched the notebook. Hence, Gevanni is actually being controlled by the notebook to say that Mikami doesn’t have a Shinigami with him. So we’re going to face L if Gevanni is still alive 24 days from now.”

Naomi’s eyebrows shot up. That was a gamble that she considered the former and current L to make, not…

“However, Maki, I’m going to move the plan ahead under the assumption that he will still be alive.”