#✮ ☾ how life tries to face me ☽ ↳ drabble

[versadies]

the rage of a fire (yan!diluc x gn!reader)

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ YOU HAVE RECEIVED A LETTER, LET'S SEE WHAT'S INSIDE! ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

salutations. THE RAGE OF A FIRE (drabble)

addressed. yandere!diluc ragnvindr (w/ gn!reader)

content. yandere content, toxic relationship, mentions of reader being stuck in dawn winery, ooc (?), reader is scared for dear life, mentions of violence (i don’t condone/romanticize to yandere nor toxic relationships)

sypnosis. in which diluc finally snaps after your many attempts of begging him to let you go outside.

penpals. @scaraslover @saving-for-xiao @dawgimsohot @kazu-topia @aqualesha @renamichii @hoshikistarlight @chiruru @shenhesl0ver (come visit my taglist info if you’re interested to apply!)

post-script. this is just me word vomiting in attempts of making a yandere fic for my upcoming yandere!thoma fic. this is inspired by meant to be yours from heathers (broadway musical)

as you head inside the master bedroom, you immediately shut the door behind you and lock it, your heart beating fast from what just happened.

“i don’t understand why you’re so worked up over me going out. isn’t it safe for me to go around the vineyard since there aren’t any hilichurls around?” you asked, following diluc around as he walks around the mansion with his eyes on a document.

“i’m not worked up, i simply think you’re much safer here than out there. what if you accidentally got hurt—”

“it’s not like i’ll die from that! i just want to get out for fresh air because i feel so suffocated, can’t you understand that?!”

he lets out a huff and stops talking to you, causing you to clench your fists at his lack of communication. can’t he at least get his eyes off from the document and talk to you?

“your father would’ve been so disappointed if he saw you like this. what would he think if he finds out that you’re treating your partner like this?” you said without a thought crossing your head from the anger fogging up your mind. it’s not fair, why can’t he at least let you explore around the outskirts of dawn winery?! you’re not some pet that will run away from its home the moment it’s outside!

your words pricked diluc’s heart, his eyes slowly widened in disbelief.

“...what did you say?” he asks.

your anger instantly disappears, realizing what you just spat out to your lover. “wh… what?”

diluc’s eyes seems to darken, the small shine that glints in his red-colored orbs disappears. “i said, what did you say to me?”

you slowly took a few steps backwards when you noticed how he walked forward to you, the sounds of your heartbeats grew louder as you felt dread wash over you. you immediately flinched when you felt the wall behind your back. “i.. i didn’t mean it. i-i’m sorry, diluc, really! i… i didn’t know what i was–”

you gasped when he slams his hand against the wall beside your head, you could’ve sworn he cracked the concrete.

the man could only look at you with narrowed eyes, not budging from his position. “you didn’t mean it? is that you sincerely talking or is it just your cowardice i’m talking to right now?”

you couldn’t get the words to come out from your mouth, too stunned to speak. this.. this isn’t the man that you’ve fallen in love with. diluc wasn’t like this back then, right? r..right?

“what, you’re not going to talk to me right now?” he leans in closer to you, causing you to look away and close your eyes shut. make this stop, you don’t want this, you take back everything you just said–

diluc suddenly cups your chin and makes you face him, leaving you no choice but to open your eyes. this was something that could’ve made your heart burst and gain butterflies in your stomach, but this.. this is something that gave you fear. “you’ve been following me for the whole day and tried to talk to me, weren’t you? so come on, speak. what did you just tell me about my father?”

you stayed silent for just a few moments, feeling your lips quiver.

“i.. i don’t know you anymore.” you whispered.

before he could open his mouth and say something, you immediately pushed diluc away and ran away, ignoring his calls.

you leaned down against the locked door and sat down on the floor, heavily breathing. what the hell? what was up with your lover back there? was he just stressed from his piled-up work?

you just wanted to get out… he never lets you out..

“y/n,” you flinched when you heard his voice from the other side of the door, knocking on the door. although his voice seemed calm, you knew him long enough to know that he isn’t calm at all – did you really went too far with what you said about his father?

“open the door right now.”

you close your eyes shut as your hands instinctively cover your ears. you know it’s wrong to be so scared of your own lover, but.. whatever diluc is pulling right now, it’s scaring you to death.

suddenly, he stops knocking on the door.

“y/n, open the door please..” he asks in a soft tone. “i…i don’t know what came over me, can you please open the door? i didn’t mean to scare you.”

he’s lying.

you stayed silent in response. this was truly a mistake, you should’ve left him alone.

“can we not fight anymore, y/n..? please?”

a part of you just wants to open the door and let diluc in, but a part of you rationally tells you to be quiet and hope that he’ll leave you alone to let off some steam.

despite having your ears covered, you could hear the sounds of shuffling behind the door.

“y/n, i know you’re scared right now and i’m sorry for that. can’t you…” he stays quiet for a moment before letting out a sigh. you could imagine him leaning his forehead against the door from the other side. “can’t you just let me make up? i didn’t know what came over me and i let my anger took control.”

you continued to stay silent, opening your eyes from the sounds of the wind, causing you to notice how the curtains starts moving with the wind that comes from one of the window that’s opened, it’s as though barbatos has made his presence known to you.

out of sudden bravery and just desperation in wanting this to be over, you spoke to the man in a soft but firm tone. “…no.”

.

.

.

it was only a few seconds of silence before you realized you have made another mistake.

“fine,” he said, the soft tone that could’ve made you open the door for him has long disappeared, only to be replaced by a darker tone that instantly gave you chills down to your spine.

“i’ll count to three and that door better open.”

[jaesqueso]

member: haechan

genre: suggestive/smut

movie quote: “yeah it's me, don't cream your pants” Stranger Things - Chapter 9 - The Gate, 2017

wordcount: 934

warnings: wet dream, unprotected sex

2.5k followers celebration drabbles ❤︎

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

‘Oh yes baby, just like that…’

Haechan moans at the pleasure, hand entangled on strands of hair on the head that bobs up and down his lap.

‘Your mouth feels so good, don’t stop…’

Letting his head fall back, he tightens his grip helping the movements between his legs.

Knock knock

Such bad timing for whoever’s knocking but he’s not going to end this before he gets his happy ending.

‘Keep going baby, don’t worry about the door, whoever it is can wait.’

His breathing gets faster as he feels the heat build up inside him.

Knock knock

Shaking his head he tries to ignore the sound but it’s just getting too loud.

‘Haechan.’

A familiar voice calls his name and he looks down on his lap to see the person whose lips wrap around his length looking up slowly revealing her face.

‘Y-Y/N?’

Another knock on the door finally wakes him up from his afternoon nap.

“Haechan!”

In a second he’s up and rushing to the door.

“Y/N?” He rubs his eyes to make sure he’s really awake.

“Yeah it’s me, don’t cream your pants.” Rolling your eyes you pass by him, entering his apartment and heading to the couch.

“W-What are you doing here?” After closing the door he tries to tidy some things around unsuccessfully trying to make the place seem less messy.

“I need your help.” You look at him and he gulps, flashbacks of the end of his wet dream coming to his mind.

“With w-what?” He clears his throat wondering why he’s still stuttering.

“I accidentally deleted an essay I was writing and I was almost at the end.” You open your bag and take off your laptop. “I need you to recover it for me.”

“And what do I get in return?” Smirking, Haechan feels his body relax.

“Just get it done and then we’ll take about that.” You roll your eyes as you watch him pick up one of the cherry flavoured lollipops he’s always sucking on.

“Alright, let’s see what I can do.” Sitting down next to you, he places the candy on his mouth and cracks his fingers before grabbing your computer and getting down to business.

With widen eyes you watch him go deep into the system, digging in places you never knew existed. It takes him a while but he finally opens a file.

“Is this it?” He turns to you awaiting your answer.

“Yes! Oh my god, you literally saved my life!” You wrap your arms around his shoulders in a tight hug making him quickly hold on to your laptop before it slid off his legs. “I could kiss you right now.”

“Why don’t you?” Instantly you let go of him, glaring at the stupid smirk on his face.

“You wish.” Pulling your computer to your lap you make sure to save the file in 3 different places just to be safe.

“Well, I did it, I believe you do still owe me some type of payment.” Haechan wiggles his brows making you chuckle.

“And you’re good with a kiss?” You raise a brow. “You satisfy yourself with so little…”

“Well, I’ll be happy to take an extra fee…” Leaning back on the couch, he manspreads and hints at his crotch where you notice a bulge already.

“What, you want me to suck your tiny dick?” You chuckle.

“Yo, don’t you call it tiny, I would rock your world!” He scoffs.

“Right right…” You move closer and see the confident expression on his face fade. “How about you show me then?”

“R-Really?” Haechan gasps when you suddenly straddle his lap, rubbing your clothed crotch on his.

“Unless you’re bluffing.” You challenge him, taking the lollipop from his mouth and placing it in yours. “It’s alright if you can’t handle it, I promise I won’t tell.”

“Oh I’ll show you.” He lifts you up slightly to push down his sweats, automatically letting out the beast as he had no underwear on.

Your jaw drops when you look down. You knew he was packing, it was just a joke when you called it tiny, but damn you weren’t expecting it to be this big.

“What’s wrong? Still think it’s tiny?” He chuckles, ego fuller than his balls.

“Shut up.” In a matter of seconds you lift up your skirt and push your panties to the side, slowly sitting down on his hard cock.

You both curse under your breaths, maybe it was not such a good idea to just go in without any preparation but you’re both so horny you can’t even think straight.

Placing your hands on his shoulders for support, you start bouncing on his lap, lollipop still swirling around in your lips, making you lightly drool. Haechan digs his fingers on your hips, helping you move at a steady rhythm before leaning forward to lick the sugary drops that descend down your chin and into your neck.

The scene was so messy and dirty but that only got you more and more aroused. Slowly you start feeling that warmness grow inside you but then he makes this weird face with a growl and your hole gets filled with his seed.

“Fuck, that was amazing.” He rests his head on the back of the couch.

“Was?” You tug on his chin making him face you. “We’re not done here mister.”

“What do you mean?” He pants.

“Well, you’re sucking on this lollipops all day,” you sensually swirl your tongue on the tip, “care to show me what that tongue can really do?”

“My pleasure.”

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

taglist: @yokshi-unbeliebubble @nc-teen  @yutahoes @dimplehyunn @iknowyuno @bebskyy @ne0cultur3technology @nurenciye @luvjeongjaehyun @chenleyang @booyouwhore17 @nohyuckieduckie​

unable to tag: @doahflix @criminalmindsz

[chaosbcrne]

2019 highlights/recap

      In January, Shadow started the year with Sonic (heroquills) and his family on their home island, having gotten a temporary leave from work to spend the holidays with them. That night they shared their first real kiss and Shadow expressed his gratitude for being given the chance to experience the holidays with family, after which Sonic put his foot down and told Shadow he would no longer tolerate Shadow’s constant back and forth. They flew back to Green Hill within the next few days, and Shadow traveled back to White Acropolis shortly after to finish his winter contract. He kept his word, however, and made a point to keep in touch with the group of people he would hang out with before he moved to White Acropolis.

      In February. Sonic suggested they do something on the fourteenth and Shadow invited him over. They went ice-skating and Sonic ended up spending the night over at Shadow’s place. Shadow then visited once or twice through the rest of the month, typically spending time with Sonic and/or Zero (team-phantom).

      In March, Scourge (mobian-merc) showed up for the first time in a few months. With his being an ‘old fling’ of Shadow’s, as he would call it, his presence brought up the question of commitment between Sonic and Shadow, and they finally made their relationship official. Later that month, Big (fishing-purple-cat/feline-fisherman) invited Shadow for dinner along with Sonic, Zero, Silver (heartfelt-silver) and Tails (twotailedwonder). Half of the group went fishing while the other half were cooking, and the group parted after dinner. Sonic, Shadow and Zero went out for drinks.

      In April, with his winter contract over, Shadow moved back to warmer regions - specifically in a small apartment in Central City. He kept touch with Elliott over texts and Citron over letters, a coworker and neighbor (respectively) he’d grown fond off during his months spent in White Acropolis. He attended Sonic’s totally not birthday party, mainly to keep an eye on Gyro who was roped into helping out with face paintings.

      In May, Shadow was sent to Grand Metropolis for work. After a few days, he found out about a cell of double-agents working within G.U.N. and went off the grid for two weeks to get to the bottom to the bottom of it. His return was punctuated by a couple of days of deep sleep and a brief episode of amnesia, which Sonic had to handle.

      In June, Shadow moved from his apartment to a more minimal shack he rented on the outskirts of Central City due to having only signed for two months in the other one and not having bothered searching for a proper replacement. A sort of misunderstanding he had with Sonic caused him to take on trivial jobs at work and retreat back into his shell, isolating himself from his entourage for a couple of weeks even after things were sorted out.

      In July, he moved into a new apartment at the top of a Westopolis Skyscraper, having gotten a good deal on it for the elevator being out of commission. With his schedule being uncharacteristically empty, he started spending more time at the Resistance/Restoration HQ, where he notably made friends with Gadget (solfading).

      In August, he hopped on the roadtrip along with a decent group of acquaintances. The trip was a welcome journey in the sense that it served as an excuse to hang out with his team (1110-01111011 and flyinginfreedom) and Zero, and not so welcome in the sense that it put his relationship with Sonic to the test yet again due to Sonic’s unwillingness to make it public. The trip also brought him closer to Tails (skyfcx) and Tikal (chaosmixed) who he would occasionally see by themselves more often after the fact.

      In September, Shadow stopped frequenting the Resistance/Restoration HQ as much what with Whisper’s (s1lentsnip3r) suspicious (not to say hostile) attitude towards him. He spent most of his free evenings with his boyfriend, eventually agreeing to a dual costume project when the upcoming autumn holiday came into question. He went to White Acropolis for a weekend to visit his ex-coworker and ex-neighbor. He considered looking for a new place as well, but ended up renewing his lease in Westopolis for a couple more months instead.

      In October, just as it had the previous year, the absence of certain people from his life left him in a bad state of mind and he wound up avoiding people for most of the month, splitting most of his time between working on his Halloween costume and borderline hibernating. He rejoined social activity with Sonic’s group on Halloween, which involved Sonic, Tails (skyfcx), Knuckles (masterprotector) and Team Rose.

      In November, Shadow made his yearly visit to the ARK, spending a few days of sanctuary up there and taking a break from the world. His return was denoted with increasing activity at work, notably because of Nack’s (pistolbitten) reoccurring appearances. Said activity kept Shadow consistently busy and the holiday season rolled in before he could see it coming.

      In December, he went to visit his neighbor and coworker from the year before for old time’s sake before coming home to let work, winter and then the holidays take over his attention. He started going back to the Resistance/Restoration HQ more consistently again to get updates on what people were up to, eventually building a bit of a circle around him once again - most notably adding Charmy (cacklingfools/deadpanstinger), Tails (hcrofraid), Orbot (orbviously), Shade (twilightcaged) and surprisingly, Nack (pistolbitten) to the list of people he would occasionally enough cross paths with. His holidays were surprisingly eventful, a variety of people inserting themselves into his day just as they had into his life. All in all, he went into the new year the same way he had the one before; surrounded with people who almost made him feel at home and Sonic serving as the cherry on top.

[jaesqueso]

member: jaemin

genre: fluff

movie quote: “I mean, it's sort of exciting, isn't it, breaking the rules?” Harry Potter and the Order of the Fenix, 2007

wordcount: 901

warnings: slightly mention of bullying

2.5k followers celebration drabbles ❤︎

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

“Come with me.” Jaemin whispers in your ear as he takes your hand.

“What? Where?” You ask letting him pull you out of the cafeteria. “We have class right now.”

“Mr Suh is not in today, I heard someone say he’s sick.” His smile spreads wide while he walks you through the already empty hall as everybody went to their classes already.

“Are you sure?” Looking around you feel nervousness take over you. “What if they were lying?”

“They weren’t, I checked with T.” He tries to reassure you.

“T? As in Taeyong? The janitor?” Pulling him to a stop you raise a brow.

“Yes, he’s a safe source.” Looking deep into your eyes, his smile still lingers making you sigh.

“When did you become such good friends?” You raise a brow.

“He’s a nice guy.” Jaemin shrugs. “Now come on!”

“But were are we going?” You let yourself get dragged again towards the stairs.

“You’ll see.” Looking back with a wink he doesn’t say more.

Never having skipped a class in your life you really don’t want this to be the first time so you hope Mr Suh is really sick. Not that you wish him harm, he’s actually one of your favorite teachers, but right now you really want to know where Jaemin is taking you.

You two have known each other since you were little as you’d be lying if you said you haven’t been crushing on him since then. Jaemin is just a weird ball of energy that contrasts with your shy nerdy self but you just work so well. You wish he knew how much you like him, spending time with him, talking to him, literally doing anything with him but you’re too shy to ever admit it and he’s too oblivious to see it.

Climbing up the stairs, his hand still holding yours has your heart beat like crazy. He’s not one to shy away from physical touch but if only he knew how much that makes you nervous. As you pass the last floor in school you tilt your head wondering why he’s still climbing, the only door left is the roof.

“Jaemin, what are you doing? We can’t be here!” You try to keep your voice low, afraid somebody will hear you and you’ll get scolded or even suspended.

“Nobody will know.” He simply says coming to a stop when reaching the end of the stairs.

“And how exactly do you plan on getting in there?” You cross your arms as he, sadly, lets go of your hand. “This door is locked.”

“Good thing I have this.” Wiggling his eyebrows he shows you a key.

When you hear the door unlock you gasp, you guess being friends with the janitor has it’s perks after all. When he opens it the sun almost blinds you contrasting with the darkness that fills the the top of the staircase.

Jaemin gestures for you to step outside but you’re hesitant. Students are really not allowed in the roof, specially when they’re not supposed to get hold of a key that unlocks a door that’s closed for a reason. Sighing he takes your hand again pulling through the door.

The sight leaves you gasping. You can see almost the whole city as the breeze blows your hair back. Slowly you walk towards the edge of the roof that is protected by a small wall that reaches your waist, followed by a fencing net that goes way over your height.

“Isn’t this beautiful?” Jaemin’s smile lightens up his face, supported by the sunshine on his handsome features.

“So beautiful.” You’re not really sure if you’re talking about the view or him but it would be true either way. “But we shouldn’t be here.”

“C’mon, relax. Everybody’s in class and T knows I come here sometimes, he’s got my back.” You watch him climb up the little wall, sitting down on top of it facing the fence.

“You come here?” You step closer but don’t dare climb on it.

“Yeah.” He sighs. “Sometimes school is too much, you know? And here I have peace, away from everyone.”

You’re completely aware of how mean some kids are to him sometimes. You don’t discuss it with him as he just brushes it off but it makes you happy that he feels comfortable enough to share a little bit of his vulnerability with you.

“Don’t you wanna sit?” He taps the spot beside him.

“I don’t know… It feels dangerous…” You bite your lip.

“Don’t worry, I’m here, I’ll protect you.” When he extends his hand you simply can’t say no, gulping as he helps you sit next to him.

“It’s ok to be a little nervous.” His thumb smooths your hand. “I mean, it's sort of exciting, isn't it, breaking the rules?”

“You’re a very bad influence, Jaemin.” You joke.

“You know,” he stares into the city still holding your hand, “I never brought anyone here with me before.”

“Why did you bring me?” Your voice comes out almost like a whisper but loud enough for him to hear.

“I like you.” You widen your eyes. “I mean, I always liked you but… Everyday I like you a little bit more. And I’m scared I’ll just keep liking you more and more that one day I’ll explode.”

“Jaemin,” you gently squeeze his hand making him look at you, “let’s explode together then.”

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

taglist: @yokshi-unbeliebubble​​​ @nc-teen  @yutahoes​​ @dimplehyunn​​ @iknowyuno​​ @bebskyy​​ @ne0cultur3technology​​ @nurenciye​​ @luvjeongjaehyun​​ @chenleyang @booyouwhore17​​ @jenoxygen​​ @star1117-archives​​​

unable to tag: @doahflix @criminalmindsz

[jaesqueso]

member: jaemin

genre: angst

movie quote: “in the end, love is timing” On our Wedding Day, 2018

wordcount: 993

warnings: nothing :)

2.5k followers celebration drabbles ❤︎

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

You and Jaemin are ideal of a perfect couple, everybody knows. When you met it was just so natural, you fit together like two puzzle pieces. You enjoy the same things, music, movies, food, you name it, so it was easy to find loads of things to do together.

From the start it was clear how you heart beats faster at every move he made and everything he said. He too felt the same but none of you dared to say it out loud. Maybe you just seemed so perfect for each other that you were scared of that intensity. So you just went along and remained friends.

Every one around you pretty much treated you like a couple and would just keep teasing you as either of you explained you were just friends. They’d claim ‘but you look so good together’ and ‘couple goals for sure’.

For so long you tried to resist this force that pulled you closer together but you start to wonder if you shouldn’t just let life take its course.

“Do you think we should just do it?” You bluntly ask as you lay on the grass in your backyard enjoying the sunny afternoon.

“Do what?” Jaemin turns his face to you, one eye closed to block the brightness.

“Date.” Looking at him to your lip curls up at his confused face. “Every one says we’d be good together, maybe we should?”

“D-Do you even like me that way?” Propping himself on his elbow he stutters, not expecting you to suggest something like this.

“You really can’t tell?” You pout but his dumbfounded face stays the same. “I do like you like that, Jaemin.”

“Oh, thank god!” With a relieved sigh he lets his body fall back on the grass.

“What does that mean?” You giggle.

“It means I can finally do this.”

When his lips touch yours everything seems to fall into place, like that’s where they belong. His hand holds your cheek and it’s like the smoothest shock wave runs through your body.

Not much changed when you decided to make things official. Every one around you was already expecting it to happen and you were already spending most of your days together so the only plus now were the kisses and the extra cuddle.

Then one day he started to get weird and he wouldn’t talk about it. Your mind kept going in circles. Had you done something wrong? Did he now realise maybe you were not that good together and were better as friends?

You wanted to give him his space and not pressure him into talking, but one day you receive amazing news and you really want to share it with him however you feel like you need to sort out whatever’s happening with him first otherwise you can’t be truly happy for you.

“How was work?” Jaemin casually asks during dinner as he often does.

“Good.” You bite your lip to prevent saying more.

“Just good?” You hum but he’s not satisfied, raising his bow in suspicion. “I can tell something happened. Something good… Oh! Did they make the decision about that promotion yet? Did you get it?”

“Ah, you know me too well.” Unable to hold it back any longer, your lips stretch into a smile that takes over your whole face.

“Congratulations!” Quickly you are engulfed in a tight hug and close your eyes at the warm feeling. “You’ve been working so hard for this, I absolutely deserve it. I knew you’d make it!”

“Thank you, Jaemin.” After a squeeze around him, you try to lean back to look at him but he holds you tighter. “Jaemin?”

You can feel his heart beat fast against your chest and his breath sounds heavy. Inhaling deeply he finally lets you go as he exhales. You can see a smile on his lips but you know it’s masking something else.

“Is everything ok?” You worry, gently stroking his cheek.

“Of course.” He tries to make his smile bigger but you can see right through it. “I’m really happy for you.”

“Then why do I feel like there’s something holding you back from showing it?”

“It’s nothing.” He tries to brush it off but you’re not buying it.

“Jaemin, I thought we shared everything with but now you’re hiding things from me. You don’t think I’ve noticed something is up with you lately? I tried to give you your time to come talk to me but that’s not happening. Why don’t you talk to me? I can’t promise I’ll fix things but I promise I’ll try to help in anyway that I can.”

The whole time you talked his eyes were glued to the ground, unable to look into your eyes knowing damn well you are right, there’s something he’s not telling you and it breaks his heart not to do it.

“You know you can tell me anything right?” You lift his chin making him lift his watery gaze. “I’m here for you, no matter what.”

“I… I got a work proposal too.” You’re about to start celebrating but he holds up his hand stopping from doing so. “It’s everything I’ve ever dreamt about, but it’s on the other side of the world… But don’t worry, I’m not gonna take it!”

“Wait, what? Why?” Although you were sad with the possibility of him leaving you could tell this was a big deal for him.

“Well, you got your promotion too. I’ll stay, for you.”

“No way!” You shake your head. “I’ll give up my promotion and come with you.”

“Absolutely not!” He quickly argues. “You’ve been working so hard for it, you can’t give it up now!”

“Then what do we do?”

“I don’t know…”

You eventually decide to follow your dreams and part ways. You knew you were too perfect together that not even fate could handle it. In the end, love is timing and this was just not your time.

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

taglist: @yokshi-unbeliebubble @nc-teen  @yutahoes @dimplehyunn @iknowyuno @bebskyy @ne0cultur3technology @nurenciye​ @luvjeongjaehyun​ @chenleyang @booyouwhore17​ @jenoxygen​ @star1117-archives​

unable to tag: @doahflix @criminalmindsz

[jaesqueso]

member: jaehyun

genre: fluff and slight angst

lyrics: “hey, there’s nowhere else i’d rather spend my day”

wordcount: 967

warnings: none

1.5k followers celebration drabbles ❤︎

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

“What do you mean Jaehyun is back in town?” Just saying is name leaves butterflies in your stomach.

Jaehyun. Your first love. You promised to stay together forever. Everyone said it was just a high school crush but what did they know. You two spent nights planning your future and there was nothing and no one that could come in the way of that. Until he did.

You managed to get through four years of college keeping a long distance relationship and everything seemed to be on the right track until his career started to come in the way. Suddenly he had no more time for you and day by day you just felt you two drift off.

When he moved to a different country for work you were heart broken but you really couldn’t blame him for following his dreams. You wish you would too but you couldn’t because he was your dream. Well, he still is.

After he went away you dated other guys, some nice, others no so much. But nothing could ever compare to Jaehyun. You were stuck on a fantasy and quickly discovered that replacing him with someone new wasn’t going to do it so you decided to focus on your work and on yourself and who know, maybe someday you’ll find your next love.

As for Jaehyun, you heard he was dating some top model and was even engaged. You tried to pretend that didn’t bother you, he moved on and you should too, but the tears that wet your pillow late at night told a different story.

But now that you knew he has returned a lot of feelings came back. You wonder how much he has changed and if he still remembers you. As you end the call that told you the latest news your questions are answered in a few texts.

|10:36 am| jae: hey peaches :)

|10:36 am| jae: gosh was that ok? I shouldn’t have started with that

|10:37 am| jae: how are you? it’s been a hot minute

|10:38 am| jae: I don’t know if you heard but I’m back in town and…

|10:38 am| jae: I’d love to see you

|10:38 am| jae: well yeah

|10:39 am| jae: do you want to meet up this afternoon?

|10:39 am| jae: it’s ok if you can’t just let me know, no pressure

|10:40 am| jae: hope this is still your number though…

|10:40 am| jae: if not I guess it’s never late to make a new friend, we can still meet up this afternoon!

You chuckle as you read his solo convo, you’re glad to know he’s still the silly boy you once fell in love with. With your heart bumping off your chest you agree to meet.

As you walk to the park is like you’re taking a ride through memory lane. You remember all the moments you spent together here and you can’t predict how you’re going to feel when you finally see him in front of you.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

You turn around and there he is. He looks as handsome as ever, his features have matured but the smile on his face is the same you cherish in your mind. You want to jump into his arms and tell him how much you’ve missed him but honestly you don’t know how to react.

After some seconds of taking each others presence again he suggests you sit down in a bench and you happily do so. The first minutes are awkward, none of you know what to say even though so many things are going through your minds.

Jaehyun finally breaks the silence asking about you and what has being going on with your life since you last talked. You want to tell him your life has been a mess since he left but you choose not to. You keep it simple talking about your work and your family that always had a special affection for him.

When the conversation turns to him he decides to follow your approaching talking about his job and, even though he loves travelling, how much he misses this place.

“Have you had a chance to catch up with everybody?” You ask him.

“Not really, I just arrived this morning, right before I texted you.” Your heart starts to beat faster thinking the first thing he wanted to do is talk to you.

While you’re thinking of what to say you notice his phone buzzing on his pocket and Jaehyun clearly avoiding it, you start wondering if you’re taking too much of his time.

“Do you have to go?” You quietly question. “I don’t want your fiancée to think I’m stealing you away.”

“Oh you heard about that…” He chuckles scratching the back of his neck. “We’re actually not together anymore. I was fooling myself thinking there was a future there. I thought we were in love until I realised the only thing she loved was my money.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that.” You turn your head to him trying to read his expression.

“Don’t be. With time I also realised I never really loved her, because my heart always belonged to someone else.” He turns to you with a smile and it’s like the whole world disappears when your eyes meet.

“Maybe you should go and see that person instead of spending your day here with me.” You shyly bite your lip trying to understand if he’s saying what you think he’s saying.

“Hey,” Jaehyun tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, “there’s nowhere else I’d rather spend my day.”

There’s no way of telling the future, but right there and then you know that everything will be ok as long as you’re with him.

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

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unable to tag: @chenleyang @doahflix @criminalmindsz

[chaosbcrne]

words & moving pictures

       “Big boss wants to see you in lab three.” The voice is very recognizable. It’s the top maintenance man - Finlay, if he recalls right. Finlay likes the observatory about as much as he does, he’s come to think, with how often he happens to find something to do here. Finlay always finds some portion of window to clean or some buttons to adjust or some screens to calibrate in this room even if it’s one of the emptiest in the colony. Finlay never delegates the tasks he has to do here to the rest of his team, he always keeps them for himself. Maria says Finlay does good work, that’s why it’s up to him to decide. That’s how everything works here - the people who are the best at what they do are the ones who get to decide what’s best for everyone else. He nods.

       “It’s not urgent, though,” Finlay says with his hand held up at him, like he didn’t need to get up so quickly. He stares at the hand, blinks at it. ‘Stop,’ it means, or ‘slow down’ sometimes. ‘Calm down’ when there’s two of them, but there’s only one this time, and it’s already going back down. So, in-between. You can go now, but you don’t have to. Not urgent. He nods again, his march towards the exit resumes. Use your words, he pictures the familiar voice. “Okay,” he says just loud enough for Finlay to hear him. The door whooshes open, and closes behind him with the same noise.

       Not urgent, he mulls over, eyes fixed on the ceiling lights, on the line they trace across the hallways like an indication for which path to follow. Urgent means go now, but not urgent does not mean do not go now. It means you can go now but don’t have to. Maybe he should make a list of words that get a different nuance when negated, and not just the opposite meaning. They all say making lists is a good way to remember. Now that they’re letting him go places by himself, do what he likes in his spare time, he’d like to get better at remembering these things. He’d like to.. be able to speak with them, he thinks. Without always having to ask Maria if he understood right.

       In the meantime, though, he walks with a hand to the wall, muscle memory telling him where to turn and where to keep going more than the progressively clearer map of the place stored in his brain. He doesn’t look at them when they pass him by. It’s distracting enough to feel their gaze on him, without meeting them with his own. Focus, he remembers. A blessedly straightforward word.

       The laboratory is empty. Not the usual ‘people have been coming in and out and there just happens to be no one at the moment’ empty, though. More the ‘there was a research session a short moment ago and everyone effectively packed and cleaned up their station before leaving’ empty. There’s no trace of ‘big boss,’ like Finley called him, or so it seems. He treads into the room slowly, quietly, soft soles rendering his steps remarkably quiet compared to those of hard-footed humans. The smell of disinfectant is a tad overbearing; he crosses the room with a grimace.

       Then he hears the voice, and remembers. Lab three is linked to an office, sort of. It’s not really an office, not as much as they wanted it to be. It’s where they stored a lot of communication equipment, so the scientists use it more for that than for an office. The door was left open, and he hears the voice that summoned him here. There’s no other voice he can hear, though. He steps closer.

       The man’s back is turned on him, but in front of him there’s a screen with an image on it. The image of someone. Not a picture, though, not really. It glitches in and out, but it seems to be moving. He could swear he remembers the someone from somewhere. He squints. It’s all black and white. He’s never seen that someone otherwise, though. Not really. He remembers. That someone, he’s seen in a picture. A very old picture of the man who created him, when he was... not like this. Younger. The moving picture on the screen looks a lot like that person. Almost identical, but not quite. This one is still moving. And speaking, too. He can hear the other voice now.

       A lot of words he hasn’t heard much. Big Cs. Confidential, compromise, chance, classified. The tone is heavy, serious. Sad, he would say, but both voices are too worn to tell for sure. Maybe that’s why he can’t bring himself to step into the office and ask why talk to a picture, why can the picture talk back, why does it look so much like another picture that didn’t move. Many questions he wants to ask. Why do you sound so sad, mostly. But he just waits by the open door. Not urgent, he repeats mentally. He just has to wait for his turn.

       ‘I’m sorry,’ that he recognizes. He squints, confused. He’s never heard the man apologize before, and to a moving picture, of all things ? A moving picture of someone who looks like his different-- his younger self. It doesn’t make sense. The picture disappears, soon after this. The room is plunged into silence. The heavy kind. Even with his back turned, the man looks sad.

       He knocks on the open door, recalling the short manners lesson he was briefed through a few days ago. His creator doesn’t react. “You wanted to see me, professor ?” he asks, looking up at the person in question while keeping his head almost bowed. Silence, still, and he glances to the side, considering whether he should leave and return in a moment. “Yes,” the professor responds suddenly. “Good timing. Come in.” He does as he’s told, apologetic expression on his face, but the man doesn’t bother looking his way.

       “There’s something you have to understand,” his creator says, his voice still heavy but more assured than it was an instant prior, and finally turns to face him. Black ears perk up to attention. “You won’t always have time for everyone. Sometimes, to do what is right... you’ll have to make choices. And just hope that the people you let down will be okay on their own.” He squints, trying to commit the words to memory. And tilts his head in confusion, to which the man immediately asks, “Do you understand ?” He nods. “Use your words.”

      “I don’t understand,” he says right away.

      “Don’t nod if you don’t understand.” He nods. “Shadow.”

      “Sorry.” Ears swivel backwards, sheepish. “How do you know which choice to make ?”

       The answer doesn’t come immediately. “That’s the big question. It’ll be up to you to figure out what’s right and wrong. You will learn, in time. Learn to understand what’s best for you, what’s best for others. Know when to listen to your heart, and when to listen to your head.”

      “My heart doesn’t speak to me like my head does.”

       The professor laughs. It’s a relief. “That’s just what your head wants you to think.” Another confused look. “Don’t fret. You have a lot of time to make sense of this. Just, remember it, yes ?” He nods. “Words, Shadow.”

      “I will.”

      “Thank you.” The man sounds satisfied. That’s a relief, too.

      “Is that why you wanted to see me, professor ?”

      “Well, no, not exactly,” his creator says, heaving something of a sigh before he works up the energy to stand up from his chair and begins pacing towards the exit. “We made a little something for you just over here. Come along.” He nods again, but the professor doesn’t see. So he follows out, though not without glancing back at the black screen again, the one where there was a moving picture a minute ago. He should try to remember this too, he thinks.

[chaosbcrne]

citylights

       There’s solid concrete beneath his feet and a strong sea wind against him. For an hour now, he’s been standing here facing the gust with the sun setting at his back, possibly waiting for the night to come, it might seem. Like a patient sentinel overseeing the passage from day to dusk and dusk to night, he never budged, arms crossed and eyes fixed on the approaching obscurity. It almost looks like it’s being pushed by the breeze rather than chasing a vanishing sun.

      Duty is not what motivates his surveillance. This phenomenon, he’s watching purely out of self-interest. The wind is cold, cripplingly so, but it carries hints of summer, promises of warmer winds to come and of increasingly delayed twilights.

      That, and a particular patch of clouds caught his attention. No more than a mundane occurrence to the common eye, save maybe for how it’s held together for the past hour. The simple fact that it covers the sky right in the middle of its gradient appealed to his mitigated sense of wonder, though. These clouds make it look like half the sky is still bright while the other has long gone dark. So for an hour, he diligently watched the heavens move, immobile, headphones in, undisturbed by all things grounded.

      (Put me down, in your house)       (I’ll be right there)

      He finds himself looking up when the frontier reaches him, refusing to take his eyes off those stubborn clouds making up such an odd transition. He’s left with the impression that they move faster, now that they’re as close as they’ll ever get. The sky may not be moving with the winds, but these certainly are, and the winds have been trying considerably hard to uproot him from his observation spot.

      (Oh I swear it, it’s true)       (I’ll do it just for you)

      One last glance at the blackened horizon, as if to defy those winds in an obstinate reminder that they aren’t what moved him in the end, and he turns around to rest his gaze on the clouds again. They seem even darker like this, as he looks inland, where the sun still feebly holds on to its reign. Where the clouds take over, the first few street lamps light up.

      (Citylights blind my mind)       (Moonshine sees me now)

      A shiver of excitement runs up his spine upon realizing what phenomenon is about to occur. Both fists are clenched in an attempt to steady that temptation.

      (And all I do)       (I do it for you)       (I do, I do)

      Yet he’s looking around all the same, noting the absence of people in the vicinity. Of course, no one wants to stay near the shore when it’s so windy. No one wants to stay out when the skies are so threatening. No one finds charm in an obscured sunset over a busy city. Why would they ? Why does he ?

      There’s electricity in the air. Those clouds, those lamps, his own childish eagerness - who knows where it comes from, but it is undeniable. Oh, screw it.

      His feet finally leave their spot as he takes off, leaving behind the deserted eastern harbor to head into the city and catch up to these clouds. Sure enough, the street lights flicker on one by one, drawing a direction from east to west as the clouds provide them with the darkness they require to light up.

      (Citylights blind my mind)       (Moonshine sees me now)

      Right away he has to take detours, getting around buildings tall and wide alike, and picking up speed to keep up with the lights. 

      (And all I do)       (I do it for you)       (I do, I do)

      Whatever eyes may catch a glimpse of him would only see a golden trail of light racing the switching on lamps along with the oncoming night. Tracing patterns across the sidewalks, the streets, too entertained with his made-up little game to stop at any turn, instead jumping over cars, zooming past people, and speeding up some more when he misses a corner and feels a need to catch up. Then comes the last one, bordering the western harbor, and he scales up the tallest building he can spot in the neighborhood without stopping still, refusing to give up the race until he has virtually nowhere left to go.

      (I need it now)       (Just pick me up somehow)       (Just pick me up somehow)

      It’s after taking in a few steadier breaths and blinking his vision into focus that he notices the clouds are gone. Well, not quite. But they spread out, now so thin a veil he can see some stars behind them.

      (Let me back a sound)       (I need it now somehow)

      He takes a few more steps, calmly approaching the edge of the roof for an optimal view. Crimson eyes drop from the sky to lie on the sea, what little of it reaches this part of the city. A very thin line of orange light still hugs the horizon, but night has otherwise taken the region.

      (Moonlight shines so bright)       (It feels like everybody knows just why)

      Momentary adrenaline fallen, he shakes his head with mild disbelief, looking back the way he came despite himself. He can’t see any of the lights he meant to keep up with, from here. What was the point of all this ? Then looking back ahead, he can see the stars’ reflections on the water. 

      (Whatever it feels like)

      He can’t answer his own question, but he’s left with a pleasant feeling nonetheless. Perhaps that’s the only answer he needs. 

      An instant later, he’s gotten down the building, and he’s heading home with the wind at his back.

[chaosbcrne]

      It’d been less of a struggle than he’d anticipated, to get those two days off. In fact, he’d gotten more out of it than expected; with a firm reminder that he’d promptly cleaned up George’s mess without question a few days ago, and after stating the fact that they never had need of field agents on holidays, he’d gotten not only the two days off but the entirety of the following week as well.

      Part of him was still apprehensive as to what he was doing all this for. That most of it would be time wasted, that he would end up not seeing any of them much. Of course everyone would have made plans. But was it really an excuse not to make himself available if he could ? He had a couple more solitary months to endure up here, after all. Something in his gut told him he’d regret not taking the chance to show up for this one night in the long run. Besides, it’d be worth it just to see a couple of familiar faces, even if it was only for the time of a party.

      He packed quickly, and lightly. He wouldn’t be gone for long, he thought, shoving some pieces of clothing and his few electronic devices into a box before heading downstairs. The bunch of random presents he’d acquired earlier that day wound up taking almost as much room in his car as his personal belongings. He almost wanted to leave them behind, just to make sure he wouldn’t actually go through with giving them away. They were dumb, and unoriginal. But then again, it’s the thought that counts.

      Just as he was stepping up to the driver’s seat, he looked back at the sad apartment building, and spotted an old sheep lady staring at him through her window. He could have pretended he didn’t see her, probably. But he waved at her instead, and she opened her window. “You’re leaving,” she said, stating the obvious.

      “Yeah,” he confirmed, pausing for a moment. And then, “I’m gonna go check on a few people just in case some of them haven’t forgotten me still.”

      She smiled knowingly. “Safe travels, Shadow.”

      He nodded, and hopped into his car without a word. Then back out, very suddenly, before she could close her window. “You know who I am,” he said, more a surprised statement than a question.

      “Of course,” she replied with a shrug. “The landlord told everyone on the block that you were coming weeks ahead of time. I thought, he must be pretty lonely, if people announce his arrival like a warning everywhere he goes.”

      He stared. For what felt like several minutes, he looked at her, her tired arms, her innocent smile, her overgrown faded yellow wool. She was someone he wanted to remember, he decided. “Take care, miss Citron.”

      It was her turn to nod and wave, and it was her initiative to close the window, even when he was left standing there for a moment longer. And he got back into his car and stayed still for some more time, trying to process what he was doing. It had been a weird journey, and it was hard to tell whether this was the end of it or the true beginning. He started the car.

      There was a long road ahead, but it didn’t seem all that daunting this time around. He had a lot of thinking to do.

[chaosbcrne]

      For some reason, he was always the first to wake up. Maybe because of his memory’s little snags whenever he let himself delve into unconsciousness - his body eventually stopped recognizing the presence at his side and he’d wake up alerted by a warning that a stranger was dangerously close. Which, all things considered, wasn’t entirely wrong. 

      In a way, it was a blessing, at least in these circumstances. Not remembering how he’d gotten there, the exact details of how the night had ended - it made it that much easier to just... leave.

      The room was still plunged in darkness, he couldn’t see whoever it was that laid beside him. All he could register was a furry arm thrown across his chest and the mixed scent of sweat and perfume. He didn’t need to know who it was or what they looked like to start regretting, and to feel a crude urge to be anywhere but here.

      He promptly slipped out of the person’s hold, moving his focus elsewhere before his vision could adjust to the obscurity. He located his shoes and his gloves and his jacket, picked them up and put them on before heading for what he guessed was the exit. Just as he passed the doorway of the bedroom, he heard movement behind him, the shifting of some bed sheets.

      “You’re leaving ?” It sounded like a female voice.

      “Yeah.”

      “Are you gonna call later ?”

      “No.”

      His answer silenced her for a second. Maybe more, but he wouldn’t know; he was gone the next instant.

      It must have been around six in the morning, judging by the lighting outside. It was still dark, but there was a certain hint of light spread across the sky, hinting that the sun would show its face within the next hour or so. It was a cold morning, he thought when stepping out, but then again, they all were around here.

      He just walked on for a few paces, and only when he was fully rid of the ghost of her presence did he look back to get an idea of the kind of building he’d exited. It was some small, cheap motel, one with the ‘Vacancy’ sign only half functional. Whatever bar or club he’d picked up this unfortunate soul at probably wasn’t too far. He let his steps take him there, and then slowly found his way back to his apartment complex.

      He felt more and more disgusted with himself as he began recalling the details of his escapade one by one. How selfish and inappropriate and frankly pathetic of a behavior it was. Feeling so desperate to keep his mind off his pain and sentiments he hadn’t thought twice before heading into that crass building. His ears assailed by a faulty bass line, the strong smell of smoke and liquor, purple fur with a purple dress and purple lipstick, but green eyes. It’d been something about those green eyes.

      He felt so sloppy, after the fact. The only benefit this adventure had brought being that it had halted the ceaseless decline of his will to keep existing. But, all in all, he was still stuck pretty damn close to rock bottom. 

      When he entered the building, he stared up at the stairs, having to psych himself up to climb them. He thought of what awaited him up there. His tiny, empty room, where everything would be just as he left it yesterday. Usually, it was a comforting thought. Not today.

      He considered just heading back out, taking a walk around the block or maybe just finding some tired breakfast place to wallow in for the morning. Instead, he went to knock at miss Citron’s door, and unsurprisingly, she answered within a minute. “Hi,” he said for a greeting, and she perked up a bit, like she recognized his voice. “Do you... have some coffee, by any chance ?”

      Just like the first time he’d shown up at her door, Citron invited him in and sat him down somewhere comfortable, refusing to let him help with that coffee, let alone make it himself. She didn’t ask any questions, didn’t make any comments - just hummed a simple tune as she got some water boiling and infused it with the coveted caffeine. “I presume you want it black ?” she asked after a moment. 

      He’d been sitting in a sofa near her window, quietly taking in the sunrise. It wasn’t an ideal view; there was little to see aside from buildings and snow-covered streets and sidewalks, there was no way to actually see the sun. But there was still a certain charm to seeing the sky turn from a dark blue to a soft gold. The clouds had finally cleared the region, for the most part. It seemed like it’d be a nice day - the first in quite a few.

      The question seized his attention, and he squinted at her, unsure what he should take from that implication. He just nodded. “Please.”

      She brought him a tall mug of the drink in question, and went to sit across from him, her attention clearly on him. She was silent for a moment, just smiling, and he held her non-existent gaze questioningly until she finally spoke. “You’ve been busy.”

      He frowned again. Could she see, after all ? He did pick up those nasty scratches since the last time they’d been face-to-face. Or maybe she could smell it on him. He shifted uncomfortably, suddenly very self-conscious. He knew he had a stranger’s scent all over him. But sheep didn’t have such a good sense of smell, did they ? “How can you tell ?” he asked, trying to sound more curious than defensive.

      “Your voice, dear,” she replied immediately. He perceived some kind of amusement in her tone. “You sound tired.” He didn’t answer, just nodded knowingly and looked back out the window as he took a sip of his beverage. A pretty good one, as far as black coffees went. “They left a big hole, hm ?” she continued after a moment. “Those people you miss.”

      Again, it rubbed him the wrong way, how she exploited what little insight he’d given her. But it seemed impolite to let her know that when he was sitting by her windowsill, in her sofa, drink her coffee out of her mug. “I’m trying to move on,” he just declared flatly, punctuating his sentence with another sip.

      “Maybe you’re doing it wrong,” she suggested.

      He scoffed. “I don’t think there’s a right way to go about this.”

      “Sure there is. You managed the other day, doing that clumsy patchwork all afternoon. Oh, you can tell me it’s none of my business, but it sounded to me like you felt much better remembering them than moving on.”

      He didn’t answer for a minute, taking the time to analyze what she was saying to figure out just why something that made so much sense didn’t apply here. “It hurts to remember them knowing they wouldn’t care to see me again.”

      “How do you know that ?”

      “I just do.”

      “Hmm...” He could feel the disbelief and the judgement through that simple hum, and did his best to ignore it as he gradually worked his way through the rest of his drink. The clock ticked on for a while before she interrupted his train of thought again. “You know what I do when I miss people ?”

      “Hm ?”

      “Especially this time of year. I like to go out and buy them presents. I know I’ll never get to give them away. Most of those people are gone, and the others never visit anymore. But it feels nice, still. It fills the hole, a little bit.”

      Her suggestion rendered him silent again, his current sorrow quickly replaced by a different kind of sadness. The statement that Citron had lost people that she still missed to this day, as unsurprising as it was, hit him like a truck. The idea that she still had a few people in her life who no longer bothered to make time for her was maybe even more depressing. And suddenly, he remembered what she’d told him, the other day. That’s a lot of not-dead people to be staying away from.

      He stood up, putting down his nearly finished mug on the windowsill. She didn’t react, but something in her stance made it known she could tell he’d just made a decision. “Thank you,” he said, his voice weirdly uneven, and swiftly made his way over to the door, only turning back to add, “For the coffee.”

      He knew what he was going to do now. He was going to take a shower, and scrub off all of that outsider smell left on him. He was going to properly tend to his injury, for once, and make himself a breakfast he’d enjoy. He would head back out and spend a few hours buying some harmless, nonsensical and hypothetical presents for people he didn’t know whether he was even going to see. And then he’d head to work, file in his report, and use the opportunity to meet with George and demand to have the weekend off.  

[chaosbcrne]

      He must have spent an hour or two like this, not quite passed out but not really conscious either, just curled up in the corner of the room and trying to cope with a feeling of helplessness drowning out all his senses. How tempted he was, so many times, to reach for his phone and send someone, anyone, a hint as to how bad things felt. How desperate he was to alleviate even slightly this crushing loneliness.

      But he just waited it out. This was how it should be. He couldn’t bother anyone like this, couldn’t hurt anyone. Maybe if he was lucky the world would forget altogether, and he could just waste away in this corner until... until what ?

      Just do something, he urged himself eventually, knowing he could overcome his own stupor if he just stopped letting it immobilize him. And with very little conviction, he got to his feet. He just stood there for a few minutes, blank stare ahead, still trying to shake himself into action. Just do something.

      His mind was still hazy and he was just going through the motions aimlessly, but he finally took that shower, warding off the shivers that constantly threatened to take over, and he ingested some food. What exactly, he forgot immediately after - probably some crackers he still had laying around. And he went back to sit on his mattress.

      Truth be told, some part of him knew why his whole brain seemed to be shutting down on itself. He was actively trying to avoid thinking about something in particular - a thought so overpowering it was easier to not think at all than try to stay distracted. But this wasn’t the first time he was going down this roundabout path of self-destruction, and he knew what laid at the end of the line if he let himself be taken there. Just do something.

      On a whim of spontaneity, he turned on his laptop and went to fetch his guitar, still resting up against the wall near the wardrobe. He hadn’t expected to play while he was here, but dark times called for extreme measures. He pulled up a tab software he used for practice, strumming aimlessly for some time before he cared to play whichever song he had saved on there. 

      His heart wasn’t in it. All he could think of was the last time he played, how everything felt right, how he didn’t even mind messing up some of the chords. Now he had no patience for his own mistakes, groaning and skipping to the next song for every missed note, unable to let his mind go blank and just play along.

       One of them eventually caught onto his mood, though. He was humming along to the imaginary lyrics just a few sentences in. A song with such easy tabs and so many backup instruments covering the background, he couldn’t even tell when he wasn’t doing it right. By the time the last chorus rolled around, the words escaped him without warning. 

“ Forget December, it won’t be better  ♪  “ “ Than I remember it before  ♪  “ “ And this month only, will be so lonely  ♪  “ “ But not so homely anymore  ♪  “

“ Forget December, it won’t be better  ♪  “ “ Than I remember it before  ♪ “ “ A silent night won’t feel quite right  ♪ “ “ It’s not so silent anymore  ♪ “ “ Anymore, anymore, anymore...  ♪ “

“ On Christmas morning  ♪ “ “ Outside it was pouring  ♪ “ “ All was hopeless in this home  ♪ “

      He was very still for the moment that followed, throat dry, fingers hovering over the strings, eyes staring blankly at the screen. It was suddenly very silent indeed. He couldn’t shush the thoughts that flooded in anymore.

      He’d been hoping things might be different this year. What Silver and Sonic had said, about the holidays, about it being a time to share with those he cared for - it had stuck with him like no other notion he’d tried to repress before. He wanted that. He wanted it so badly, to have important people like that in his life once again. But he couldn’t - not if he really did care for them.

      It didn’t matter, anyway. It was too late, he thought, glancing at his phone, barely out of reach. He’d made a decision, and stuck with it, and everyone was better for it. Silver had a home worthy of that name. Sonic was finally okay. After receiving vague messages from the hero over the past weeks, odd pictures of places he was visiting and random posts from various social media, Shadow had finally received an actual message from him, everything about it indicating that the speedster was just fine, at last. 

      He’d gotten exactly what he’d wanted. For his rival to go back to his old ways, to move on from the mess that had been the past few months. He knew it would hurt - he remembered how shattered he’d felt, at the lake, exchanging promises that they would never be this close again. But this was a different kind of pain than he’d anticipated. One he wasn’t sure he could endure as it was.

      Just do something. He stared at the coat he’d carelessly discarded when returning from his mission, picturing the knife he knew was tucked in a buckle somewhere on there. He knew no better way to deal with pain than focusing it somewhere else.

      Balling his fist over the handle of his instrument, strings dug into his fingers, and he recalled something that had been said, that night, like a reoccurring plea not to do this.  Just… take care of yourself, okay ? Please? How bittersweet that concern was, in hindsight, knowing that by now, Sonic probably couldn’t care less what became of him. He’s moved on, Shadow kept thinking. It’s a good thing.

      He stood up in a sudden surge of frustration and defiance. He wasn’t going to break his promise tonight, but he could certainly keep himself distracted in some other way. And prove that he could move on, too. 

      He put on the first jacket he came across and headed out, determined to scout the local clubs and find a partner to spend the night with.

[chaosbcrne]

[text]: Hey! Hope youre havin a good day!! :D

      The first thing he was concerned with when stepping back into his studio was getting warm. Without the sense of purpose and adrenaline that had carried him through his mission, the freezing temperatures were even more noticeable. It didn’t just render him numb anymore; the cold was biting right down to his bones everywhere his nerves weren’t already unresponsive.

     He discarded everything he was wearing as soon as he came inside, for it seemed the cold had attached itself to even his clothes. He lit up a fire to get some warmth spreading in the little apartment, and disappeared into the bathroom, eager to shake off the snow and frost accumulated in his fur, and hopefully get rid of this lasting chill with a lukewarm shower.

     He stopped in his tracks when he caught a glimpse of himself in the tiny mirror hanging over the sink - or more specifically, of his bloodied muzzle. Oh. Right. It was no wonder it had slipped his mind, with how cold it was, the wound had frozen within a minute. The scratches weren’t very wide, but they were deep; it was obvious he would have gotten blood all over himself if the chill hadn’t coagulated it so quickly. 

     While it might have scarred someone else for good, he knew it’d be completely gone in a week. Two, at most. But right now, it looked pretty messy.

     His encounter with Stellar had been brief, but it’d left more than those three scratches behind. The implication that some former Resistance members were going rogue with custom weapons and causing trouble, and the fact that he’d had to clean up one of G.U.N.’s messes for the umpteenth time, it all left him feeling rather… pointless. For all that he believed, on a good day, that he was well-positioned to make a difference, it was coming down from the high of missions like this that his faith faltered.

     The sting of his injury slowly reared itself back as he wiped his face with a wet towel, getting rid of both the cold and the dried blood, sense of feeling returning to that general area simultaneously. His motivation for a shower slipped away, and he found himself sliding down to a sitting position in the corner of the bathroom instead, reaching for his phone that he’d left untouched since taking off for the assignment.

     That’s when he saw the text. He wasn’t sure when it had come in. He wasn’t even sure what time it was now - he’d lost track, and the dark, cloudy ceiling that had burdened the region for days now didn’t help in giving any indications.

     He tried to let it be a good distraction. Tried to let that familiar name and the emotions tied to it cheer him up, in some way. It had been weeks since he’d heard anything from the blue blur himself. He should have be happy to get some sign of life, right ?

     But he came up empty. He just stared at the words, reading them over and over, and failing to let the well-wish make its way. I’m really not, he thought in response. He couldn’t bring himself to actually answer, so he just thought it, like if he did so hard enough, his growing despair might be heard. But it wasn’t. The screen stayed the same, and no one, nowhere, would know how miserable he was feeling right now.

     Just as it should be, he decided, and he swallowed thickly, strangled by the overwhelming feeling of isolation. But he managed one last thought, before his mind went blank, catching a glimpse of the message again. I hope you’re doing better than me.

[chaosbcrne]

      For all the time that he spent on his own since getting here, it seemed he could never stay focused on a single train of thought for very long. After his odd afternoon spent with miss Citron trying to stitch something unique onto one of his jackets, he’d gone through the night simultaneously trying not to mull over what she’d said to him while making some semblance of dinner, and psyching himself up to at least ask Zero about this party of his. It couldn’t hurt to just ask, he thought. It didn’t commit him to anything.

      As soon as basic information was acquired, though, his communicator started beeping wildly after over twenty-four hours of being on standby without a word from headquarters. It meant that for the next few hours, he’d be worrying about some assignment instead of whether or not it was a good idea to attend.

      Agent Holly greeted him at the entrance, like she’d been anxiously waiting for his arrival. She looked even paler than usual as she led him to some briefing room where her boss would be telling him about his next mission, and he could have sworn she tensed up when he asked why he couldn’t just get the word from the usual task manager. This didn’t bode well.

      The person in charge of the station was a guy named George, and he shared a lot of physical features with the Commander. Same short, grey hair, same heavy wrinkles, same hardened expression. His most noticeable physical trait, though, were his hands. His knuckles bore the characteristic white skin of scarred frost bites. It was probably safe to assume he’d directed this base ever since it had been built.

      Shadow was alone with Director George and Agent Holly in this small meeting room about as cold and dark as everything else around here. They sat him down with a small pile of stapled sheets to look over. As far as he could tell, they were radio readings of some area that had been silent for a very long time. Up until... about an hour earlier. “What am I looking at ?” he asked with a hint of exasperation, knowing they were just waiting for him to say something before giving him proper explanations.

      “When the storm settled and we got our instruments back online, we picked up the first radio activity in a year in area 42,” Holly explained, nodding at the paper. Shadow looked back down, taking note of what he’d failed to see when first looking it over.

      “Area 42,” he repeated. And then he realized why that sounded so familiar. “But that’s--”

      “Where Doctor Eggman’s old base was located,” George completed for him with a somber look. 

      Shadow just squinted at the papers again, trying to understand the implications here. Eggman’s base in White Acropolis was what had originally drawn Shadow and his team to Soleanna when he’d first started working for G.U.N. Of course, with Solaris out of the picture and the City of Water being less of an interest to the evil genius, the base in question had been less impressive in this current timeline. It had taken more time to locate, but Team Dark had stormed it the previous winter. 

      “Why would there be no readings at all until now ?” he asked, suspicions growing. “Didn’t you set up a perimeter after we took it ?” The uncomfortable silence and nervous glance shared by the two people before him was all he needed for an answer. “Are you kidding me ?”

      “We sent out a team to clean it up after the dust settled,” Holly explained urgently, and defensively. “But another bad storm came in. We can only communicate with our agents in that area on a good day, because it’s so far in the middle of nowhere. We had to call them back in and postpone the settlements. But...”

      “But you never did.” He was already feeling an incoming headache with that revelation. “You’re telling me you left a destroyed base, once run by the most wanted criminal in the world, full of expensive and dangerous equipment, just sitting back there unsupervised and completely accessible to anyone for over a year ?”

      “We kept an eye on it,” Holly argued with an upsurge of confidence. “Our radio team never stopped scanning over that region.”

      “You just told me your equipment can only get feedback from there when the weather’s nice.” And just like that, her assurance was gone again.

      “No one would wander out there when the weather isn’t nice,” she tried for a counter, but Shadow wasn’t fazed.

      “For fuck’s sake,” he said under his breath, and frowned even more when the two suddenly looked scandalized. “Guess again. The doctor will have gone back for anything he could salvage. Wrongdoers would seize any opportunity to get their hands on something they can use against you. Even civilians wouldn’t hesitate to grab some of the expensive equipment leftover for resales. And you just let them. For a whole year.”

      “Your job isn’t to tell us what we should and shouldn’t do,” George interjected, finally speaking up to try and regain control of the situation. “You’re gonna do as you’re bid, and right now, you’re bid to go over there and make sure the area’s clear.”

      Shadow glared daggers at him. Now more than earlier, he could feel the resemblance between George and Tower in the way he was being ordered around like some insentient tool. The only difference was that Tower would never have made that kind of beginner mistake in the first place. “Fine,” he hissed, grabbing the papers as he stood up to keep a copy of the coordinates. “But you,” he added before heading out, “need to get your shit together.”

[chaosbcrne]

       He woke up with a strange feeling of isolation that day - one stronger than usual. He guessed he’d only slept a regular night, given how quickly he recalled the improvised conversation he’d had over texts with a certain fox before he turned in. Maybe that was what gave him such a sense of detachment. Knowing, without a shadow of doubt, that where he’d left people behind, the world kept turning. Life doesn’t stop for anyone. It was both reassuring, and depressing.

      Or maybe it was the ongoing storm that made it impossible to tell whether it was even daytime. After stretching and taking a look at his communicator glowing with the familiar light dictating he was on standby, he went up to the window. It was shaking loudly, strong gusts of wind hitting the building head-on every thirty seconds or so. He could barely see down in the street, whirling flurries clouding most of the picture.

      Before letting himself wonder what he’d do with his day, he lit up a fire with some of the new logs that had been delivered to his doorstep sometime yesterday, and went on to getting some sustenance. He hadn’t been too extravagant in his food purchases still; he wasn’t one for cooking much and had little storage space. But out here in his little isolated apartment in the middle of nowhere, no one could stop him from cracking open egg after egg and swallowing their content raw, only interrupted when sipping a glass of cranberry juice. One of the many advantages of independence. 

      He promptly brushed his teeth then, if only to get rid of the aftertaste, and went back to sit on his mattress with the wind still howling outside. His communicator kept flashing steadily, but somehow he got the feeling he’d be spending the day in. It was well into the morning, and with that storm raging, they’d likely decided to keep essential personnel only. Oh well.

      He pulled out his laptop to play recent news reports for background noise, and picked up his shoes to do a bit of maintenance. They’d been working fine when he’d returned from work, but he wanted to double-check that no snow or ice had knocked something out of place in there after his fun little assignment the other night. He was probably due to clean out the needles and check the wires anyway.

      The procedure was second nature, and soon his focus was drifting away, his mind disconnecting from the task at hand to go back to that conversation he’d had with Tails. That everyone was fine, and that things had been mostly quiet. He winced. Somehow, knowing everyone, those statements were a bit contradictory. 

      He didn’t want to worry about Sonic. From the sound of it, he was treating this time like some kind of vacation, which was a good thing. Probably.

      Shadow was mostly concerned about Silver. As much as he wanted to get behind Tails’ explanation that he was merely taking it easy due to settling in, the hybrid also clearly recalled when the young psychic had moved into his place. How, just a couple days after, he’d taken the liberty of decorating the whole apartment and been very shameless and loud about it.

      Of all the things Shadow had left behind to come here, Silver had to be the one that felt the most wrong. After talking him into staying, into working on making this era his home as best he could with the assurance that they at least shared that feeling of not belonging, the agent had just... left. He trusted that Silver understood his reasons weren’t personal or related to their talks, but it didn’t ease the guilt much, especially knowing the younger hedgehog had gone quiet now.

      They’d never been typical roommates. Shadow’s working schedule was as irregular as they came, and Silver spent more than his fair share of time helping out with the Resistance. They’d rarely actually cohabited together, let alone when one of them wasn’t just there to rest. And the last few days had been so busy, with them recouping from the camping trip, Shadow sparing what little time he had left to go out with Sonic and Zero, one after the other, and then just being busy getting ready to move out. They’d hardly shared any time together at all. 

      He remembered what Silver had told him when he’d announced his departure. How he’d tried to brush it off and shoved it at the back of his mind, knowing all too well that it might have swayed his decision if he’d let it fester. He hoped Silver really was okay.

      Then, he realized he’d put down the shoes at some point, and began fidgeting with whatever else had been within reach. A red jacket, or more specifically, the print of his team’s improvised logo on its shoulder. He pinched the fabric between his fingers for a minute, as if looking for something in the embroidery. And he looked at the pile of clothing he’d yet to properly put away. He had an idea.

      He put the shoes on and stood up to go grab one - a high-collar, dark grey jacket with light sleeves - and headed out, phone and communicator in tow.

      It hadn’t taken him long to figure out where miss Citron lived. Besides the fact that it had to be one of the apartments on the ground floor, it was the only one outside of which rested a few boxes of stuff she wanted to give away. It was like a perpetual yard sale her neighbors were free to dig in; books, picture frames, mundane decorations, even clothes. He’d never taken the time to fully inspect it, but if he could find what he was looking for anywhere in this building, it’d be here.

      Unfortunately for him, it seemed miss Citron’s hearing was proportionally as good as her eyesight was bad; he’d only been rummaging through one of the boxes for a minute when the door opened, revealing the small faded-yellow sheep. “Are you looking for something ?”

      “Uh...” He froze like a deer caught in the headlights, mentally debating whether he should be ashamed of what he was doing or not. These were things to give away, right ? Why did her friendly tone make him feel like a thief ? The uncertainty, mixed with Citron’s curious smile, pulled the truth out of him. “Some patch of... white... fabric ?”

      He should have anticipated being invited in, and feeling an odd obligation to not decline. What he didn’t anticipate was how... tolerable Citron turned out to be. Sure, she offered him food, she asked questions, but after a few ‘no thank you’s and dismissive answers, she left him be.

      She found what he was looking for and even more; on top of some leftover fabric bearing the colors he wanted, she let him have her entire sewing kit, full of threads and needles, among other things. The scissors were useful, too. Where he could usually make-do with a knife just fine, this was delicate enough that it made a significant difference. 

      He was no artist, and had never come close to messing with embroidery, but after poking his thumb with the needle and swearing under his breath at knots randomly giving out a few times, he managed to produce something... satisfactory. It was clumsy work, but it would do. 

      “What do you think ?” he asked the old lady as she was making her umpteenth back-and-forth walk near the small table she’d let him settle on, too obviously curious as to what he was concocting. As if to confirm his suspicions that she was blind, or close to it, she swept her hand across his work rather than looking at it.

      “You’ve never done this before, hm ?” she said in response, and Shadow rolled his eyes, having to still his tongue so the few snarky replies he thought up didn’t escape him. He just scoffed instead. “What’s it for ?” she continued, her good humor unfazed by his attitude.

      He looked back down at what he’d done, at the yellow thread irregularly poking in and out of the loosely cut out shape. It’s none of your business, he had the reflex to think, and almost said, just as he had for every other question she’d asked him earlier. But, he realized, that was against the point of all this. “To remember someone by,” he said instead, idly messing with the end knot of his improvised sewing project. 

      “Someone dead ?” she countered immediately, but the tone she used had the same lightness to it. 

      “No, just... someone I miss.” He felt a bit tense, all of a sudden. Awkward. Even more so that, despite the short silence that followed, he could practically feel that Citron was completely unbothered, unlike him.

      “I know you’re gonna tell me it’s none of my business, lad, but I really thought it was your decision to come here.”

      “It was.” He wanted to sound self-assured, confident, but that statement almost came out as a question. He wondered how odd this all sounded to this old lady, who seemed to lead such a simple life of acting on her goodhearted whims all day and every day. He wondered if she’d always lived her life so simply, or if, on the contrary, she’d had such a complicated life that she’d decided to treat herself to some simplicity from now on.

      “Hmm...” was all she offered for an answer. She just walked to the fridge, served herself a glass of water, and walked back to her sofa and turned on the TV. 

      And Shadow went back to his little endeavor of the day, cutting out the same shape in a different color of fabric and superimposing onto his jacket with the careful but still clumsy back-and-forth of a thread and needle. His second attempt didn’t look that much better, but it was completed considerably faster. He ought to try having these sorts of conversation before doing manual tasks more often, he thought, bittersweet. With him being busy thinking into the implications of what Citron had made him say, he hadn’t poked himself with the needle even once.

      She made no comment when he let her feel the second patch, but she spoke up when he started working on a third one. “That’s a lot of people to be missing that much,” she said. He perked up, pausing what he was doing to make a face.

      “Hm.”

      “A lot of not-dead people to be staying away from.”

      “I know.” His tone was irritated now, his patience running thin. For all that she was speaking innocently and nonchalantly, it sure sounded like she was trying to get a point across.

      He didn’t let her touch the final product, but she stood up when he started putting everything away, clearly getting ready to leave. She just walked over and stood near the table, like she was waiting for parting words of some sort. And then, just when Shadow was beginning to feel very inadequate about leaving without saying anything, she pulled her hand over the table and tapped her finger on his phone that was still resting there.

      He understood that she wasn’t just reminding him that it was there and not to forget it. “Yeah, thanks,” he said, picking up the device and shoving it into the pocket of his now slightly modified jacket. And, just as he was heading out, because it really felt like he had just let her win somehow; “...for the fabric.”

[chaosbcrne]

       He was assigned to a certain Agent Holly upon clocking in, someone who knew the place well and was meant to show him around. Agent Holly had some of the brownest eyes he’d ever seen, the brownest hair and the brownest freckles to match. The rest of her skin, though, was about as white as the never-summer snows of this region she likely lived in all year long.

      It was something he’d noticed about the people who worked here. They all bore that same pale skin, and that same dark gaze, like the cold and obscurity that reigned over the place more often than not changed them to its image over the years. They were a close-knit group of people, all familiar with one another, and better coordinated than the mass of come-and-go agents he dealt with back in Westopolis. Or anywhere else, really.

      But they were also proud, and stubborn. Backed up by the assurance that they had each other’s back, and that they knew their job well, and their workplace even better - there was no convincing Agent Holly that he already knew the place. Nothing she showed him was actually new, but she kept showing it to him all the same, insisting that some of it might have evolved since the last time he was here. They hadn’t.

      The station was gigantic. Much like the expanding white desert it rested on, it was mostly cold and empty, taking up room it didn’t need just because it could. Every division he was familiar with could be found here, only, they had half as many employees running them, at most, and twice as much space to work in.

      All in all, it was really more of a fortress than a usual G.U.N. base. The area was quiet, for the simple reason that it was so inhospitable - so this specific station was used as a stronghold to regulate communications and, when needed, to guard the organization’s prized possessions. Which Agent Holly refused to divulge anything about, even just whether they had such items under their care at the moment or not.

      He received his first assignment after this painfully long tour of the premises, and it seemed that specific theme was to continue for his first days on the job. A simple but long perimeter mission about as boring as having to scout circles around the building. 

      And so he spent the night moving from one surveillance camera to another, switching out frozen wires and batteries and memory cards for fresh ones, occasionally having to call back to base to be sent his next coordinates seeing as everything was just snow and wind and clouded night sky with no distinguishable landmark to help him find his way. His ears and fingers were completely numb after barely an hour, and his nose only escaped the same fate because he hid it in his chest fur when he moved from one point to the next.

      It was no wonder they’d waited for him to do that maintenance job, he thought when he finally went back to base for good as the sun began to rise; if not for his speed, this task would have taken more than one night, likely long enough to let the temperature kill whoever undertook it. A nice little preview of what his winter would be like.

      He was told that he’d be expected to join a staff meeting later that day, a typical procedure whenever a new season rolled around and the bosses felt it was time to get everyone together and make the point on what their objectives would be in the following weeks. He briefly considered heading back to his apartment to wait out the few hours until then, but quickly decided against it at the thought of the chill waiting for him outside.

      Instead, he went to his locker room to trade his frost-covered uniform for a simple hoodie that would do a better job of keeping him warm while the other garment melted off. He grabbed his phone and some change - they had a coffee machine, at least, if nothing else - and made his way for the lounge.

      Just like the rest of the base, it was bigger than necessary, and accordingly empty. And yet, after an hour or so of looking aimlessly through his few social media accounts (mostly replaying some of the videos Omega had published of Team Dark shenanigans between missions earlier that year), some guy apparently thought it’d be a good idea to take a seat on the couch across his and try to strike up a conversation.

      “So, you came up here to get a load of fresh air ? Haha.” Shadow tore his gaze off his phone to look at him. Red hair, impish smile, the navy uniform of the statistics division, but otherwise the same dark brown eyes and ghost-white skin as Holly. He looked back down at his phone. “Not a talker, are ya ?” the guy continued with the same overly enthusiastic tone, which got on the hybrid’s nerves even more. He looked up at him again, this time to shoot him a glare before focusing back on the screen, but he saw the statistician shrug from the corner of his eye. “Fine, be that way,” he said. He didn’t sound very bothered. “ ‘m just sayin’, the cold months are a lot colder without friends, ya know ?”

      “Fuck off,” Shadow hissed under his breath, but the guy was already leaving. He had a certain zest to his steps, uncharacteristic to most of the people who worked here, and it rubbed him the wrong way some more. Probably some new guy who thought it was his responsibility to make the even newer guy feel welcome. Hard pass.

      For some reason - probably the fact that he eventually stumbled upon that one video of him getting absolutely hammered in a drinking contest - his thoughts went out to Zero. To their little lunch date right before Shadow had left, to how the jackal had made that effort to come out of his shell so they could hang out one last time. To this supposed party of his Shadow had caught wind of before taking off. He wondered how feasible it would be to get enough time off here to attend. Loath as he was to admit it, he already kind of missed the guy. He wondered if he’d be welcome at all.

      The meeting went by rather quickly; or so it seemed, for something that still took all of people’s lunchtime and a portion of the afternoon. As it turned out, the woman in charge of the station had the foresight to print out documents for everyone containing every piece of relevant information that would be discussed during the briefing. So Shadow read it all, as people were talking, and when he got bored of listening to people talk, he turned on some music, listening to it for the remaining hours unbeknownst to everyone else - a possibility courtesy of a certain hedgehog and his genius little fox brother. 

      He had them to thank for making the rest of his day bearable, he decided as he was heading out, having been granted to take the rest of the day off and being on standby for the next. He promised himself to do so once he got back to his place. 

[chaosbcrne]

      He received his first call the next morning. Finally, there was someone available to ‘show him around’ - as if he hadn’t worked at that same station for the better part of last winter. He was more than ready to get in on the local action, especially so after the mundane things he’d been keeping busy with until then.

      He’d spent most of the previous day wandering around, getting re-acquainted with the area, and more notably the nearest food places. He’d also gone out of his way to buy a few pairs of warmer gloves for the cold season, as well as a few items he hadn’t had the foresight of bringing along in the move. 

      When the sun had started going down, taking the already freezing temperature down with it, he’d gone back to his apartment, carefully scaling up the four flights of stairs to make sure they were clear of any overbearing old lady. Only then did he start making round trips back to his car to get the rest of his stuff. He’d never been one to call any place home, but, by nightfall, this residence of his was considerably more comfortable.

      It took some time to warm up the place again after he’d left the one window open all day, but he eventually treated himself to a shower and a meal constituted of the few snacks he had yet to consume on his journey here without having the cold on his mind. And he’d dozed off near the fire, half-expecting to be called in eventually overnight.

      So he sprang into action vividly when it happened the following morning, barely taking the time to drink a glass of water and put on his uniform before storming out the door.

      He went down the stairs and nearly ran into the old sheep lady somewhere on the second floor. She’d made blueberry muffins, this morning. Her name was Citron, as he’d found out - though he’d only found out because the few people on the block who didn’t ignore her only ever told her to ‘Go away, miss Citron,” when she knocked on their door to distribute her baked goods. It seemed this ‘family’ of hers, as she’d called it, was closer to a delusional dream than reality.

      That’s what made him stop in his tracks when she called out to him, even though he was already one floor further down. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. She wasn’t even all that invasive, considering. She just wanted to share some of her confections. And she’d made it clear she didn’t know who he was supposed to be - so what harm could it do to indulge her ?

      Shadow climbed back up a few steps to pick one of the muffins from her tray, and let out a simple ‘Thanks’ before heading back down. He was at the main entrance on the ground floor within a few seconds, but he still heard her clearly wishing him a good day.

      Only when he was out in the cold did he start picking at the improvised breakfast. It was still warm and all but melted in his mouth; a much better end product than those he’d had in typical ‘homemade’ bakeries near his previous workplace. Too bad no one else bothered trying miss Citron’s baking. They’d gladly have more every morning if they did.

      The irony of it gradually made room for a certain sadness for the old lady as he finished the snack. The implication that every morning, she would concoct something for everyone on the block, and every morning, she would get ignored or turned away by everyone she presented it to. But, for some reason, she kept at it. Every morning. Hm.

      That kind of attitude reminded him of someone. Somehow, as he stood out her under the feeble winter sun, he was suddenly reminded of what he’d left behind to be here - something he’d done well to keep out of his mind over the last twenty-four hours or so. Now was no time to start dwelling on it, though, he decided when the cold’s sting began making itself more noticeable. He had somewhere to be.

      On that note, he took off without warning, skating his way further into the colder region to find his new headquarters.