#Also helps blue in giving red a good smack when he gets too reckless

[nightfal1n]

Good thing about onsen collab is Mina got assigned black color while Kafka is red because by sentai genre code black is mean to be the last to join but make the most impact while also have a strong bond with red asfasfg

[chaozsilhouette]

Moonlit Musings

The night is such a perfect time to face one’s darkest truths. Shrouded in the moon’s light what can one do but admit to their flaws. It can be a time of rejuvenation and rebirth, only if you let it.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

It was a quiet night.

The full moon hung high in the heavens accompanied by millions of stars. Not a cloud to be seen, an ideal night for passions to run wild. Normally people would be taking out their telescopes or arranging romantic picnics.

Sadly, nights like these only filled Sun Wukong with dread. It was a night like this when he was finally able to return after the Journey. That was the night he learned he had lost a precious treasure.

When he returned, he expected to be greeted by his subjects until Macaque showed himself. He expected to be strangled as the pale furred monkie admonished him for his recklessness. He expected to watch as fury transformed into tearful joy as they embraced one another for the first time in over five hundred years.

But that wasn’t what happened.

The moment he set foot back onto Flower Fruit Mountain, he sensed something was very wrong. Like his previous return trips, his subjects greeted him with loud celebrations. The new mothers showed off their infants. The young ones wasted no time climbing all over him, taking in the scent of their king.

The immortal elders, however, looked concerned.

That was when he realized Macaque’s scent on the mountain was far too faint. Even the magical signature of his clones no longer felt fresh.

Macaque was nowhere to be found. The monkeys reported Macaque had returned a few years after he stopped by the mountain earlier in the Journey but not as his usual self. He didn’t respond to any of their questions. He didn’t even take time to check in on the infants. He didn’t say a word.

He just entered the mansion, but no one saw him leave.

Entering the mansion, Wukong dashed to their room desperate for answers. Opening the doors, he saw the room was horribly empty, sure all of his belonging were exactly as he remembered them, but all of Macaque’s stuff was gone. Macaque’s closet was empty and all his books had vanished. Despite his desperate hopes, there wasn’t any signs of a struggle or hidden messages to be found.

Macaque left of his own free will, but why?

He couldn’t bring himself to sleep in the bed they shared so many nights together. Every time he dared, he awoke expect to be greeted with the comforting warmth of familiar presence, instead he opened his eyes to a cold emptiness.

The lack of answers broke his heart, but he didn’t have time to start tearing the landscape apart trying to find him. Now that he was back for good, he had so many responsibilities to catch up on. He was determined to be a good king for his subjects and that meant ughthinking things through. Plus, he wanted to spend as much time with his master and brothers as possible.

Then there was the concerning fact all his previous allies had severed their alliance with him.

Apparently after all the fuss with the Demon Bull King, word had spread that Wukong broke their alliance by disrespecting protocol and attacking the royal family. Plus, his new position as a defender of humanity annoyed more than a few respectable demons. Combined with the sheer number of powerful demons he killed on the Journey cemented the idea that having an alliance with him would only end poorly.

He was banned from court meetings and the other kings in the surrounding areas wanted nothing to do with him. The chaotic nature of his past had finally caught up to him and in the worst possible way.

He was still recognized as the Monkey King of the Sun Court but was effectively blacklisted. No one wanted to mess with him, but they also didn’t want to interact with him. Not good for his mental health to say the least.

Simians are naturally social creatures. Wukong was used to constantly being around other people and learning new things. His time imprisoned was not kind. His first year of freedom had him constantly climbing over his brothers and master just to reassure himself that this was real.

And now that he couldn’t reconnect with old faces unless it was through a battle to the death…It forced him to delve into old memories. Memories that while sweet only made the emptiness more pronounced.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

Sun Wukong smiled as he watched Macaque’s reaction.

The six-eared monkie was furiously pinching the bridge between his eyebrows after he shattered a boulder with a careless headbutt as though it would make his life mercifully easier. “You’ll have to explain it to me again. What did you mean by ‘no longer under Yama’s jurisdiction’?”

“Exactly what I said. I was napping. Having some time to myself, when out of nowhere some idiots tried to take my soul to the afterlife.” Wukong explained as though having entities of death rip out your soul to drag it to the underworld was no big deal.

“Bet you weren’t happy.” Macaque couldn’t help but smirk at the flippant tone. He just made it so difficult to stay mad.

“Not in the slightest. I barged my way to the top brass, bunch of cowards called the Ten Kings (totally undeserved titles by the way) and demanded what the fuck was going on.” He was still ticked off even if the payoff was sweet. Seriously! Did immortality mean nothing to these cowards? They couldn’t even play it off as him dying in battle. He was in the peak of his youth! “Can you believe they tried to play it off as a misunderstanding? Should have smacked the loudmouth when I was there.”

“So, through a series of ridiculous events, you erased your name from the records of the dead.” Macaque could easily piece together the rest from there. No matter how ridiculous the odds. He learned never to bet against his friend when a problem could be handled with brute strength or intimidation. If it didn’t look like such an answer was possible, clearly, they hadn’t experienced the force of a determined Wukong. Something about facing a ticked off monkie of practically infinite strength and invulnerability left harden conquerors pissing themselves.

It was hilarious.

“Not just mine. In my infinite wisdom, I erased the names of several of the monkey inhabitants of esteemed Flower Fruit Mountain, including yours.” Wukong playfully booped Macaque’s nose.

Turning away to hide a light blush, Macaque scoffed to cover his embarrassing response. “Typical. I can’t leave you alone for five minutes without you doing something insane.”

“I know. I’m just that awesome.”

“So what? Are we now double immortal?” That was the question wasn’t it. Due to their master’s instructions, they were immortal and ageless, so what exactly would this give them? He didn’t feel any different. He couldn’t sense any new powers or changes in his instincts.

His counterpart, however, had other things on his mind. “Who cares. All I know is that those idiots have no control over our souls anymore.” And with that the King took his rightful place across Macaque’s lap as the other returned to his scrolls.

Wukong instead took the time to examine his friend, who finally gained enough confidence to fully drop his glamour and embrace his true appearance.

He still couldn’t believe Macaque actually had six ears. The weird part was how natural they looked, almost as if seeing him with only two was bizarre. The coolest part was how each pair softly glowed a different color. Blue. Purple. Red. Sometimes Wukong would just stare at them, imagining that he could see glittering stars emanating from that glow.

Suddenly those magnificent ears twitched. Macaque didn’t bother looking up from the bamboo scroll. “A trespasser...multiple, boar and vulture demon. Another hunting party”.

“Again. Ugh. Don’t these idiots ever give up!” Don’t get him wrong, Wukong loved a good fight. What better way to prove how superior you are to others than to steal what’s most precious to them? But even he was starting to grow bored with the sheer number of hunters that thought kidnapping his subjects was a quick cash grab.

After the fifth army he returned in pieces to the surrounding upstart lords, you’d think they’d take a hint.

Thankfully he wasn’t the only powerhouse on the mountain. “I haven’t tasted blood in a while. Why don’t I defend the kingdom while your highness enjoys a show?” Macaque set aside his reading material, eyes glittering with bloodlust.

Wukong returned the smirk with one of his own. “I’m always up for a good thrashing. One request: make it glorious.”

“Don’t I always.” Macaque joked as he retrieved his spear from his own shadow.

Wukong summoned his cloud and claimed a good vantage point. Once again, he marveled at his friend’s hearing. Judging by the distance it would have been at least three hours before he would have detected their presence.

Kicking back, he transformed some hair into a fruit platter and waited for the screams.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

To this day, Wukong knew Macaque was alive. Thanks to his efforts combined with the intense training, the monkie was double immortal. Besides, that monkkie was way too stubborn to die. He would survive purely on spite if he had to.

Macaque left, but why?

While he may have effectively isolated himself, that didn’t mean he didn’t hear about the other courts. A few centuries ago, he heard rumors about the formation of a new court by someone under the title of the Macaque King. Supposedly they were a powerful monkie who knew way more than he had the right to. For a brief moment, Wukong dared to hope it was his old friend, but it didn’t last. The few recounts he caught described him with black fur. Besides, he knew how much Macaque hated the title of King. Even when Wukong offered him the position as co-ruler of his kingdom, the pale monkie adamantly refused.

Still, he was curious.

For a few weeks he could have sworn he detected a familiar scent hiding underneath Mk’s. And he wasn’t the only one who noticed. A few of the immortal monkeys questioned him on the mango infused scent and what his plans were. It was almost too much to take in.

To think he returned to teach his student instead of showing his face. It hurt just to think about it. He chose to ignore the beckoning scent until it became impossible to ignore MK’s leap in progress. Then it just vanished like it hadn’t been testing his patience. Like it hadn’t brought him to the brink of shaking the kid upside down until he confessed where his old friend was hiding. The kid probably grew wise, or someone told him to change his bathing habits, and by the next training session it was all but gone.

Dragging his hand down his face, Wukong tried to reevaluate his thoughts.

Getting mad at the kid wasn’t going to solve anything. He knew he hadn’t been the most attentive master. Hell, the whole hammer exercise at its core was a desperate attempt to remove a painful reminder of better times. His master would be disappointed in how he was running away from his problems, but would encourage him to take the steps to be better. Zhu Bajie would be a sarcastic little shit, trying to get him riled up so the monkie would prove him wrong. Sha Wujing would sit him down and wouldn’t let him leave until they talked everything through.

He had to make things right with the kid. He deserved a better master. And this New Years he was gonna get one.

He spoke, praying the winds would carry his voice to his Warrior.

“Macaque. I know it’s been a while, but…I-I want to talk. I know you’re out there, somewhere I can’t reach. I miss sparring with you. I miss lazy days napping in the shade by your side. I miss defending the mountain as we held contests to see who could take out the most trespassers before their common sense kicked in. I miss you. Please come home.”

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

The moon was high in the sky. Stars danced in the heavens as the faintest hints of vibrations pulsed through the concrete from the late-night dance clubs. MK lay awake, his mind struggling to make sense of it all.

Ever since Macaque disappeared in order to remain undetected, he kept thinking about his relationship with the Monkey King. Sure, he was being trained and he was definitely making progress. The monkie was still on his case for supposedly cheating on him with another mentor. Nothing MK said or did could make the monkie think otherwise. Thankfully, he was no longer shooting him suspicious glares, but the underlying tension remained.

The sad truth is they just weren’t that close.

He would have expected to learn more about the Monkey King on a personal and emotional level, but he just couldn’t get past that wall. Their training sessions felt more like just the Monkey King arranged just to get it over with. There was no passion at all.

Okay, perhaps that last bit was an exaggeration.

When you peered past the arrogance and pride, you found one socially awkward monkie. It was similar to Red Son the more he thought about it, both seemed to find it difficult to talk to or relate to others in a friendly setting. Sure, Monkey King projected a friendly demeanor and called him “bud”, but if he didn’t know any better he could have sworn the monkie was afraid to take that final step.

The last few sessions had taken a bit of a turn in a positive direction as Sandy would say. Maybe Monkey King decided it was time to make a change? Maybe this was all a trick so MK would lower his guard and reveal Macaque’s identity? Maybe he was just tired and should have conked out an hour ago?

Maybe.

Reality was so different from the legends. When Tang first introduced him to the Monkey stories, he was hooked. He loved listening to the tales of the infamous trickster that flipped off every major religious figure with unbridled confidence. Meeting the Great Sage in the flesh was like a dream come true until he was exposed to the King’s less pleasant tendencies.

Mk couldn’t help but wonder just how much confidence the Monkey King had in his training skills. Did he ever train someone before? Could MK talk to someone about this without appearing even more ungrateful than he already looked? Why didn’t he stop Red Son from unsealing his father when he was there? Why didn’t he simply seal the entire family when they were reunited? Why did the five times immortal sage decide that now he needed to train a disciple? Was Monkey King not telling him something important?

He had so many questions and not even the foggiest idea of where to start looking. Or perhaps he did?

The truth was he missed Macaque. The dark-furred monkie may have only taught him for a month, but the progress he made and the level of care he was exposed to made him feel as though he had finally unlocked the ability to fly.

He missed the regular grooming. He missed learning about the demon community. He missed learning new ways to mess with Red Son through appropriate court manners.

Watching the fire user freeze up at the term “honorable prince of the Iron Bull Court” just made him laugh, when his hair combusted it really matched his face. Now that he thought about it, were those horns starting to peek out of his forehead? And maybe the slightest hint of a tufted tail swiping the bottom of his coat? Seeing the demon frantically compose himself was a treat he didn’t know he needed. He still had the video saved as one of his favorites, didn’t hurt that Mei caught it at the perfect angle.

Oh yeah, he missed that.

With any luck, New Years would be the start of something better.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

On an island that remained surrounded by unquenchable storms, a single black-furred monkie sat cross-legged in a secluded part attached to the palace. All around him fruit trees and bushes bore a hefty bounty releasing an intoxicating scent of life.

Ears twitched.

Macaque opened his eyes, aroused from his meditation. It was odd. He had the faintest sensation that someone had been talking about him. Now that wasn’t exactly unusual, he made plenty of allies and enemies across the centuries. What was odd was that the voice sounded like someone he once cherished.

But that couldn’t be right.

The deceptive silence of his personal orchard gave him no answers. Not that he really expected it to.

For some reason he refused to identify, Macaque turned to the single peach tree in the grove. A tribute from his past and a reminder of his mistakes. But it was also a valuable resource once he learned the truth about the peach’s properties. He used its powers to protect many happy relationships, if only it could have helped him so long ago.

No matter.

He still had many projects to work on, including one successor just rife with insecurities. He honestly felt bad ducking out as he did. If things were different, he would have offered him a new life. His Stars were always happy to welcome a new member into their budding community.

As a bonus, his presence would have interrupted their constant attempts to set him up with new dates. He adored their efforts but being paired with partners who only wanted power or he would view only as friends was not something he enjoyed. Although watching them mentally destroy those they didn’t find suitable for him was quite entertaining.

Either way, New Years was coming up fast and he still needed to approve a few changes. His Stars were determined to make sure this event topped last years in every way possible, but they had to make sure they didn’t set the orchard on fire again. Or worse, they could launch the fireworks into the storm barrier. He wasn’t sure why or how, but the tornadoes and clouds turned different colors as explosions rang throughout the night.

It was beautiful but lost its charm after the third day.

[soulmate-game]

Oneshot #3

Just one (1) imagining of Mari and Damian meeting as kids.

Darkness clung greedily to every street corner, and perhaps nobody would truly know whether it was the sheer viscosity of every shadow or the scope of talent in the newest Robin, but even clad in bright greens and reds and yellows the brand new vigilante easily slunk around unseen.

A shrill scream rang out in the air, sounding young. Unfortunately (or fortunately) Robin wasn’t the only one with the ability to slink around unseen in the Gotham night. His father and mentor followed close behind as they both made a beeline towards the newest disturbance.

What they saw was… not exactly what they expected. See, they had expected a little girl in the midst of getting kidnapped. While they weren’t exactly wrong, they had not at all been anticipating the kid’s apparent mother to be there.

Or that said mother had already beaten down four of the five traffickers after her daughter with a broken mop handle from the nearby dumpster.

The little pigtailed girl cowering behind her mother was scared without a doubt, tears pricking the corners of her startlingly bright blue eyes, but she was making a valiant effort to stay brave. She was biting her bottom lip, doing her best to suck in the tears and stay as silent as possible. And when the fifth and only attacker to remain conscious managed to slice along her mother’s arm with a knife?

Well, neither vigilante about to jump into the scene expected the terrified girl to grab a little grocery bag of trash that was nearby and toss it at him.

“Don’t touch my Maman!” She yelled in heavily accented English. The weak knot holding the bag broke when it hit the guy’s face, releasing used tampons and a half-empty bottle of milk over his head. The momentary surprise and disgust allowed enough time for the clearly Chinese mother to land another smack with her broken broom handle, and for Robin to jump down and take the fight away from the two civilians.

Batman stayed back, tying up and securing the already defeated traffickers while keeping a close eye on his son. The last thing he needed was for the boy, only on his second month in Gotham, to traumatize the little girl with murder.

But Batman made the mistake of dragging the goons to the corner of the alley by the street. When Robin rose his sword to deliver a killing blow to the guy’s heart, the Bat was too far away to make it in time.

“ROBIN!” He barked, hoping the tone of his voice would be enough.

It wasn’t.

Instead, a tiny hand came out of seemingly nowhere and latched to Robin’s wrist. The boy froze. Suddenly in front of him, blocking his blade from reaching its target, was the girl. They were the same height, he realized, and her blue eyes bore into his with startling ferocity despite the tears.

“He’s… asleep,” she told him, clearly meaning “knocked out” but lacking the right words to say it in English. “No killing. Will do nothing. Will only make you bad like him,” she told him sternly, scolding the vigilante despite the clear difference between them. One, a girl who threw a trash bag and the other, a boy who would kill with a katana without a second thought. “Maman needs… doc-tor,” she stumbled over the word, but despite the accent managed to get it out decently understandably. “Help her instead of hurt him.”

“Marinette!” The adult woman had finally gotten out of her shock, one hand pressing her sleeve over her shallow but long wound tightly even as she ran over to her daughter. She started to speak in French, and was halfway through asking her daughter if she was okay when Robin sheathed his sword without a word. As soon as the weapon was put away, a bright flash of green light erupted from where Marinette still clutched his wrist.

As if stung, the kids sprung away from one another. They both blinked, and when their eyes reopened it was to their vision suddenly being sliced in half like a video game. One half was their own perspective, the one they were used to seeing. The other was…

From the kid they just met?

Robin found he was staring straight at himself in half of his vision, and Marinette realized the same thing. They were seeing from both of their perspectives at once.

Bright, green-and-pink letters flashed before their eyes in bubble text, reading: Soulmate Game! Romance, Start (but not too fast)!

“YOU’RE my soulmate?” Was the first thing Robin asked, voice incredulous and unflatteringly surprised. “But-but you’re so tiny, and clearly untrained! Far too naive, and reckless, and you are wearing a bright pink skirt at night in Gotham City. There’s no WAY you can be my equal!”

Marinette puffed out her cheeks angrily. She might not have been the best at speaking English, but she was good at understanding it. She just had trouble forming the words sometimes, her mouth being too used to Cantonese and French to easily adjust to the more blunt and enunciated American English.

“And you’re mean and dumb and scary, but I didn’t choose you! Maybe it’s my job as your soulmate to make you nicer. Here, smile!” She lunged forward with all the audacity of someone who did not know Robin AT ALL. Pinching his cheeks a bit too roughly to be accidental, she pulled them apart and lifted them up so that he was “smiling.”

He batted her hands away, albeit a bit slower than usual. The multiple perspectives were incredibly disorienting, and he found himself confused as to which one he should focus on. Marinette didn’t seem to have that issue, easily shrugging off his rude gesture and lunging forward to try her assault a second time.

This time, when he tried to knock her hands away, Marinette grabbed one and locked it behind his back.

“Wha— I thought you were harmless!”

“Not my fault,” she cooed with false sweetness. “I never SAID I was har-harmless,” she kept his hand firmly pinned at the base of his spine, and while Robin knew he could twist away, she was still a civilian and his soulmate and he didn’t want to hurt her. Much. He did have the urge to flick her forehead though. “Maman teach me a little. She says she will teach more when I get older. See? I will be equal with you! Maybe not yet, but later!”

Damian bit his lip, forcing himself not to scowl. His grandfather had been of the mind that soul bonds were next to worthless, but his mother had a different opinion. She had raised him to treat his soulmate as nothing short of his equal. If he was an assassin Prince, then his soulmate would hold the same title. The universe paired everyone with who it deemed as the most complimentary to them. The one whose strengths would cover their weaknesses and vice versa. If he was strong alone, having his soulmate by his side would make him and his empire exponentially stronger and more stable.

So said his mother, anyway.

So he would not attack her. Not outside of a spar, that is. And they WOULD spar. He was not allowing his soulmate to only know rudimentary self defense, it was an insult to his name.

Whether he meant Al Ghul or Wayne, he didn’t know yet. Maybe both.

“Your mother TAUGHT you a little,” Damian corrected instead of insulting her like he would have normally done. Not much of a step up, but noticeable enough for his father to raise a brow behind his cowl. “Now let go, I thought you wanted us to get your mother first aid?”

Marinette huffed, clearly not pleased with his attitude still, but relented. She backed away from him, and followed him to where their parents were waiting for the police and an ambulance to arrive. The sirens could already be heard not far away. She waited until after her mom had a bandage firmly wrapped around her cut, which had also been properly disinfected, and had turned the police’s offer of a ride home down. She offered to give her statement the following morning instead.

The officers had been bemused, but Sabine didn’t care. Her daughter’s soulmate was a vigilante, and there was no way she was letting either of them run off without a talk.

“Don’t you sneak away, Batman!” The woman’s sweet but somehow terrifyingly stern voice cut through the otherwise silent air, stopping the vigilante in his tracks. He had been about to pull one of his signature vanishings, but apparently Sabine’s motherly instincts were not having it.

The little Asian woman firmly poked a finger into the much larger man’s chest, leaning in fearlessly with righteous fury in her almond shaped eyes. “My daughter is your prodigy’s soulmate, so you don’t get to just leave. Whether you like it or not, their connected now and I’m not about to let you keep them apart for her “safety” either. My little baby deserves a chance with her Destined. And that means she’s gonna be in danger because of your night life whether we like it or not, so I don’t care how painful this is gonna be for you. You’re letting us in on it. But ground rules? She’s not joining you. You might have taken other kids on this dangerous hobby of yours, but she won’t be one of them. What you CAN do is help me train her, so that she can at least protect herself from whatever danger might follow her because of this. What you CAN’T and WON’T do is ignore us once we go back to Paris and expect that I won’t hunt you down and make you regret ever trying to get rid of us. You and I are gonna make sure our kids get to have their soulbond and enjoy it to the best of their ability, and you don’t get a choice in the matter. Understand?”

Robin and Marinette were left blinking at the fearless woman as she laid into the well known vigilante and one of the founding members of the Justice League. Even more impressive, Batman didn’t seem to be capable of arguing with her. Every attempt was thoroughly thwarted until he was left with a growl of defeat in his throat and a triumphant Chinese mother smirking at him.

“Are you sure SHE isn’t my soulmate?” Robin whispered to Marinette, earning a snicker.

—*—*—*—*—*

THREE YEARS LATER

“The stadium is this way, Ladybug!” Adrien pointed the correct direction, but his heroine partner was still lagging behind.

“Hold on!” A familiar static had given her the warning she needed. Far too familiar static. “Keep going, I’ll—“

“Marinette, are you alright? Who is with you?”

The girl cursed under her breath, glad that at least she was the only one who could hear the voice.

“You’ll what? What’s wrong?” Chat Noir asked, slowing down as he looked back at her in concern. She sighed. Best to tell the truth.

“It’s my soulmate, just finish heading where we agreed! Right now he can hear everything I can hear!”

“Oh meowch,” the cat themed hero flinched. “That’s not great. I’ll just, uh,” he took an awkward step to the side before hauling tail away. Everyone knew better than to get between soulmates, especially when one was in potential danger.

“Who was that?” The icy voice of Damian Wayne persisted, and Marinette could pretty much FEEL the suspicion through their bond. At least he was still in Gotham.

“Just a friend! From school, yeah! A friend from school!” Unfortunately, though the pigtailed girl might have learned a lot when it came to combat ever since her soul bond was completed, she had never improved her ability to lie.

“Uh Huh. Suppose I believe you, What is their name?”

“Uh, Cha— Chane! Chane—“

“Marinette.”

“I’ll explain later! Gotta go, Akuma attack, taking cover!”

“If you’re taking cover then it is best I remain on audio only mode in order to make sure you get to safety.”

Marinette dropped into the stadium, a giant robot that should have only been inside the game Ultimate Mecha Strike Three slamming into the ground behind her.

“What was that? I thought you were headed to safety! That means AWAY from the danger, Marinette!” Yep, that was genuine worry in his voice. The girl winced, she’d be getting a lecture later for sure.

“Uhh, sorry I really—“ she dodged alongside Chat Noir, struggling to focus on both the conversation and fight at the same time. “Can’t talk— right now— very busy trying to get to safety!”

Another voice, completely deadpan and just as familiar as her soulmate’s, filtered in from Damian’s side of the audio connection of their bond.

“Oh really? That’s why you’re fighting a giant robot in the center of the stadium right now?” It was Nightwing, and he was in full Protective Brother Mode. Meaning, he was not amused at all and now she had double the lecture in store for her. Marinette gulped.

Her vision split in half, a sensation she had grown very accustomed to over the years since herbond was first completed. It no longer disoriented her like it had at first.

And her new perspective showed her and Chat Noir, right as she ordered her partner to try Cataclysm on it, in the stadium. Startled, she looked up to see two costumes figures standing with their arms crossed in the nosebleed section.

“Merdé, I am so dead,” she whispered to herself as she focused back on the gaming-themed Akuma. Having seen enough villain attacks in Gotham, she knew better than to assume they had won that easily. Therefore, she was not nearly as shocked as Chat when their enemy reformed his robot. Robin used the moment to drop in next to her. “I thought you weren’t coming to visit until NEXT month. You just got back from, you know, DEATH,” she hissed out of the corner of her mouth.

“I wanted to surprise you. Looks like I have good timing,” he replied equally softly. “And before you catastrophize—“ he started as all three of them pressed the red orb next to them, and jumped into the robot that spawned for them. Which… only had two seats…Robin shoved the cat hero out of the way. “—I am not angry that you are a hero. Merely surprised you did not tell me as soon as it happened. Oh, and feline boy, Ladybug and I will handle this. Just stay back and be quiet.”

“What— Who are you, and why are you taking my partner from me?” The blond asked, thoroughly caught off guard. Ladybug just got into her seat and sighed.

“Chat Noir, meet Robin. He’s one of Gotham’s vigilantes and my soulmate.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, really,” Robin responded impatiently, his hands finding the controls of the robot easily. “And honestly, Ladybug, I suspected something like this would happen eventually. My family tends to be a horrible and very invasive influence. And it isn’t as if you lack the necessary skillset. Batman and I made sure of that much at least.”

“Uh, how are you guys doing this so easily?” Chat Noir piped up from where he watched as the two soulmates easily moved their robot with a fluidity that seemed profoundly natural. Marinette just smirked at her Parisian partner secretively.

“Robin and I are pretty used to combat games.”

Her soulmate laughed. She didn’t know if it was because of her inside joke, or the fact that he just found out their robot came with a cat saber.

—*—*—*—*—*

[abalonetea]

Just Keep Breathing: Chapter Two

I was partnered with @the-dot for the @originalfictionbigbang​! Thank you for working with me, Dot!

Here is the first chapter! I’ve split the first 10k words between four chapters, and will be posting them all in a masterpost in just a moment!

Summary: It’s the height of storm season and everyone in Hi-Banks, Florida is getting ready for the bad weather. It should be a year like any other - but on the tails of a national pandemic, a new disaster strikes. More than one new disasters. So many disasters that Eddie Carver would like to put some of them back, thanks. He’s just a down on his luck guy living in the local trailer park with his boyfriend. He’s not interested in dealing with the revival of an old murder case - which he knows nothing about, thanks -, the storm season of the century, or…zombies?

Yeah. Absolutely not interested in the zombies.

This black-comedy follows the inner workings of a small town as they band together to survive, and the young man - reckless, mean, angry, written off b the big city folk come to look into a cold case - that might hold all of societies survival in his hands.

Forget about society.Eddie’s only interested in keeping his friends alive.

Chapter Two – The Hunt Shop

The Mason family has owned a bait and tackle shop out on the north edge of Hi Banks for almost a solid four generations. It’s a good twenty minute walk from the trailer park, which isn’t that bad when it’s not also pouring down rain. As it stands, they’re both soaked by the time they hit the long dirt road that winds towards it. The sides are pitted out from constant tire tracks, turned into thick puddles of standing water and mud.

The rain lets up to a light drizzle, but it’s too late for that to be helpful. Eddie makes a point of splashing his feet in as many of the puddles as he can.

Carson’s the one who calls out, “truck,” when twin headlights appear in the distance. It’s got a massive dent on the passenger side and the fender looks like it’s held on with duck tape.

Lincoln Wiltshire, the deputy, pulls over. He’s a tall, skinny man with a hooked nose and a scar on the side of his neck. Every time he’s asked, Lincoln tells a different story about how he got that scar. Eddie’s pretty sure it’s something mundane and stupid, like a fishing accident.

“You boys having trouble?” Lincoln asks, rolling down his window and half leaning out it.

“Truck still won’t run,” says Carson. “We’re stuck hoofing it everywhere.”

“And the power’s out at the trailer park,” adds Eddie.

“Shit, already? I was hoping it might stay on a while longer.” Lincoln scratches at his side burns. “Wonder if it’s out where I live, too.”

“Store had power last time I was there,” says Eddie. There’s no need to specify. Everyone just calls it The Store.

Carson asks, “you coming from Red’s?”

“Was getting some more shells.” Lincoln gestures at the brown paper bag in his passenger seat. “I wouldn’t hold my breath on anything with him today, boys. He’s in a rotten mood.”

“Eh, we’ll take the risk. I want something hot to eat tonight, you know?” Eddie says “Shit. You think he might have some of that soup still?”

“Maybe,” says Carson. And then, to Lincoln, “can you do me a favor? I was only at the docks for like an hour earlier, but Clancy didn’t show up.”

Lincoln frowns. “Now that ain’t like him.”

“No, it’s not. He’s always there, doesn’t matter the weather,” says Carson. “Figure maybe you could swing by his place, see if he’s...I dunno. Gotten into something.”

“Sure, sure, I’ll do that before I go home. Thanks for the heads up, Carson. You two stay out of trouble now, you hear me? I don’t want to get any calls out there.”

“That wasn’t our fault!”

“I don’t care who starts the fight, I’m the one that has to pull pants on to come finish it. I’m looking to not leave the house again tonight, so. Behave.” Lincoln jabs a bony finger at them.

Carson rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

Eddie parrots, “yeah, man, whatever.”

“Maggots, the both of you,” huffs Lincoln, but he makes sure to pull away slowly so as not to splash them in muck.

They get about ten steps before Eddie asks, “so, uh, you worried about him?”

“I mean, yeah. Sort of.”

“Ain’t he a jerk?”

“Sure. But like, not all the time. And it’s weird. He’s always at the docks. Like, I’ve NEVER not seen him at the docks, Eddie. I dunno. I’ve just got a bad feeling about this.” Carson shrugs.

Maybe it makes Eddie a worse person, but he’s not too concerned about Clancy one way or the other.  The guy has a mean streak the size of the Grand Canyon, and a habit for acting like he’s the boss down at the docks. He’s not, clearly, but the guy has been working there forever at this point, so everyone mostly just ignores it.

Silence falls over them. The sloshing of Eddie’s boots is the only thing between them, until the shoddy looking wood building of The Hunt Shop comes into view. There’s a massive concrete raccoon statue out front. It gets decorated every time a holiday comes around. Right now, it’s got a massive yellow tarp wrapped around it in lieu of a rain coat.

The front door is propped open, the heavy twanging bass of the radio thudding out. Eddie ducks in first, glancing around.

For the most part, the hunt shop hasn’t really changed in...well, ever. There’s an old singing bass above the gun rack, and a mounted deer head on the wall just behind the front counter. Red is stretched out on a chair behind it, booted foot flung up onto the counter next to the register and an open can of beer.

“Lincoln was right,” says Eddie. “You look pissy.”

“Ey, if it ain’t my favorite scarecrow.” Red thunks his boot back down onto the floor. “Lemme guess, the power’s out.”

Eddie finger snaps at him. “Bingo!”

Carson stomps in just behind him. “Cat broke our damn window.”

“A cat?” Red snorts. “You know, I think you might have worse luck than I do.”

Eddie hops up onto the counter, next to the register. He helps himself to the open, half-warm beer. “Lincoln says you’re in a pissy mood. What’s up?”

“Ugh. This damned weather,” says Red. He uses his foot to push the wheeled chair away from the counter, and then spin around so he can slap a hand against the calendar hanging up behind him. “Look at this. I’ve got two days, and then I’m supposed to be going on my hunting trip.”

“Damn, is it that time already?” Eddie passes the mostly empty can to Carson.

Carson rolls his eyes. “Thanks.” And then, “isn’t that storm supposed to hit this weekend?”

“I’m thinking about just hunkering down out there,” says Red.

“That’s stupid,” says Eddie.

Red slaps the calendar again. “I’ve never missed a trip. I’m not gonna let it get passed over because of some rain. It’s, what, a cat two? I’ve spent worse storms out on the swamp. I figure there’s no power out there anyway, so what would I be missing?”

“The sun,” says Eddie.

At the same time, Carson says, “the hunting.”

Red scowls at them both. “Neither of you know the meaning of the word fun, you know that? I swear, I don’t know when you guys got so boring.”

“Around the same time we started dying from hunger,” quips Eddie.

“Fine, fine, we’ll go get something to eat. C’mon. I was gonna close up anyway.” Red hauls himself out of the chair and around the counter. He leads the way out of the shop – Carson closing the door behind them when he brings up the tail – and around to the back of the building where his camper’s parked.

The radio is already on inside, a woman’s voice, “and as if the predicted overly active storm season isn’t enough, we’re having more and more cases of this unknown virus showing up. We actually have managed to get an interview with Charlie Santero, the governor of Florida, where we get his personal thoughts on the situation.”

“Ugh, shut that off. I hate that guy,” says Red.

Eddie slaps the radio off. “So, food?”

“Chili,” answers Red. He grabs a bowl out of the fridge and shoves it into the microwave.

“Gross,” says Carson.

Red flips him off. “You’re the ones that came over.”

The microwave beeps. Red pulls it out and tosses it onto the little table on the other side of the kitchenette. He grabs three spoons and drops them down, too.

“Alright. Dinner’s served.”

* * *

It’s dark by the time they leave Red’s, all three of them loading up into Red’s old wood backed pickup. They roll the windows down, letting the stiff Florida air into cab.

Eddie sits on the far end, arm flung out so the mosquitoes slap into it as they rush past. “So, think we’re gonna get hit bad this summer?”

Red groans. “Do we have to talk about the storms? I’m trying to think happy thoughts about this week.”

Carson says, “I’ll check up on the shop for you.”

The tires catch in one of the ruts, splashing mud up onto Eddie’s hand. “Gross.” He pulls it in, wiping his palm off on his shorts. “I’m thinking it’s gonna be a small one. Just because it’s always small when the people on the radio talk about it. They’re always wrong and stuff.”

Red whacks the back of one hand against Carson’s shoulder. “Smack him for me, will ya? You’re gonna jinx my trip if you keep talking like that, scarecrow.”

Carson shoves at the back of Eddie’s head, pushing hair into his face. “Don’t jinx him.”

“Ow!” Eddie rubs over dramatically at the back of his head. “Fine, fine, I won’t – hey, knock it off already!”

They pull all the way through town towards the trailer park and are almost at the chain link fence around the place when the flash of red and blue lights come into view. Red cuts the engine. “Alright, nope. I’m checking out. Whatever you two did - “

“We didn’t do nothing,” says Eddie, the words a low sort of whine. “I’m telling you!”

“Looks like you did something,” says Red. “And I’m not interested in being involved. Sorry.”

Carson grunts, giving Eddie the stink eye.

Eddie shakes his head. “I didn’t. I’ve stayed outta trouble and you know it, man. I’ve got – fuck, nothing on me right now.”

“Whatever,” says Carson, slinging open the door. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Red doesn’t have a record, per say, but he likes to steer clear of the local officers all the same. The moment that Eddie and Carson are out of the truck, it peels into reverse and vanishes, a squeal of tires on the pitted pavement and a spray of muddy water up onto the other side of the road.

Carson says, “you’d tell me if I’m about to walk into something, right?”

“Yeah, man, I’d tell you,” says Eddie. “But I swear, this has nothing to do with me.”

“Ugh,” says Carson, and Eddie totally agrees with that. They head up into the trailer park and true to their luck, the sheriff’s car is parked right outside of their little hovel, along with a little shiny black car that doesn’t seem to fit in with the rest of Hi Banks.

Sheriff Bianca is sitting on the hood of her car smoking a hand rolled cigarette, short black hair pushed away from her face, the thick scar over her cheek visible even in the wane light of the street lamp. “There you are. We were waiting for you. This is - “

“Agent Smith,” says another woman, long blonde hair pulled back away from her face and an ashy pallor to her skin. “and my partner, Agent Russo.”

“We didn’t do shit,” says Eddie, lower lip jutting out.

Carson shoves him. “Idiot. Stop running your mouth.”

The corners of Bianca’s mouth twist up at the edges, just a little bit, and then instantly take on that hard slant again. She slides off the car, putting the cigarette out on the bottom of one mud caked boot and then tucking it into the front pocket of her uniform shirt. “Boys, they’re here about the Mulborne Case.”

There’s a beat of silence.

One.

Two.

Three.

Eddie lets out a bark of laughter, just can’t help himself. “What, really?”

Smith asks, “does that mean you know the man?”

“Of course I do. Everyone knows Benny,” says Eddie, with a shrug of his sharp, bony shoulders. “Ain’t this thing solved?”

“Yes,” says Bianca, a little tersely.

“On a local level,” answers Russo. “But we’ve recently been informed of something that’s brought the case into a larger light.”

Carson squints. “You two aren’t cops.”

“We’re with the FBI,” says Smith.

Eddie snorts. “Bullshit.”

That takes Smith off guard. “Excuse me?”

“The FBI out in Hi Banks? Yeah, I don’t buy it,” says Eddie. “This town’s barely on the map. What the Hell would send you people out here, huh?”

“We’re not allowed to discuss that information while the case is still under investigation,” says Russo. “You’re - “

“Eddie, yeah, and he’s Carson, and I’m sure the sheriff’s gone over all’a this with you. You realize how late it is? Some of us actually have to work,” says Eddie.

Smith gives him a tight lipped smile. “I’m sorry about the time. We got a little turned around on the way out here.”

“Not my problem,” says Eddie.

Russo says, “it might be. It’s been brought to our attention that you had contact with the men who were murdered.”

“They went missing,” corrects Bianca. “There was no proof of foul play.”

Eddie juts out his lower lip. “Yeah, sure. I fixed up their van when they came through, big fucking whoop. How about I just make this real easy and tell you exactly what I told her?” He jerks a thumb at Bianca, who rolls her eyes. “Their van was trashed. I fixed it. That’s my job, okay? That’s it. They paid in cash, big bills, and then they left and I never saw them again. End of story.”

Carson says, “you should try and find someone smarter to ask about it.” He slings an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and hauls the other man up against his side. “Eddie’s got a brick for brains. Even if something weird was going on, there’s no way he would’ve noticed it.”

“Bitch,” mutters Eddie, but he doesn’t protest. Easy out’s, right?

A phone goes off, some lame shrill tone. Russo excuses himself and steps away from the group and Bianca asks, “did you figure out where the machinery went?”

Carson grunts. “Probably Milo hawked it. Pretty sure his ma’s rent was due this month. We didn’t really look that hard.”

Smith questions, “machinery?”

“Carson works at the docks,” says Bianca. “A few parts went missing earlier this week.”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” says Carson, gruffly. “Look, no offense but we’ve already done this once. We don’t know anything else about it, and I’ve got work tomorrow. Can we wrap this up?”

A car door clicks open behind them. Russo, still on the phone, waves Smith over. Smith nods and then excuses herself, all polite, “thank you for your time. I’m sure we’ll be in touch,” before heading over. They climb in their little black car and leave.

Carson scowls at Bianca. “Seriously?”

“Trust me,” says Bianca, dryly. “It’s not my idea of a good time, either. I thought that we were done with this.”

Eddie snorts, already heading towards their trailer. “Yeah, fuck off about that. I am done with it.”

He’s pretty pleased when Carson just goes on and follows him, not so much as a goodbye tossed Bianca’s way.

[mommymooze]

Mighty Morfis Power Mage

Yuri X Reader story 

You had followed your friends Merci, Annie and Lorenz to Garreg Mach. You had gotten to know everyone in the Blue lions and Golden Deer pretty well.

Magically you are not as good as Lysithia or Annette but you can hold your own. In sword fighting Felix could take you out in a heartbeat. With a lance you are on par with Sylvan, which is not saying too too much, but you are okay. You had started in the Blue Lions, close to the end of the year you were finally persuaded by Professor Byleth to join the Golden Deer.

 When the war happened, your parents freaked out and took you back to Morfis. You wrote letters to all of your friends, but most didn’t have the time to write back. They had a war going on you know! Claude and Hilda would send a word back here and there, keeping you informed about your fellow Deer.

 But come hell or high water you are determined to make it back for the five year reunion. You kiss the ground when you hit Fodlan territory, meeting up with Hilda and then heading to the monastery. It is thrilling to be fighting again. Being away for five years doesn’t matter much, you are right back in the middle of the fray throwing spells and causing hell.  Coming up on the bandits, you cast your spell, bringing a bow made of pure magical force into existence, complete with magic arrows. Drawing back your bowstring, an arrow is nocked. You aim and release, striking a thief with deadly magical force, killing him instantly. Five years of intense spell development at the Morfis Advanced Magic University pays off. (MAMU, OI!!!)

Hilda grins at you. “I am so glad you are back.”

The two of you move toward Ignatz and Raphael, joining up with them. As the battle goes on, the group gets bigger and bigger until you notice that all of the Golden Deer are reunited. The last of the bandits defeated, a cheer goes up amongst the old gang and everyone is hugging and happy to see each other once again.

“(Y/N)!” Claude yells, getting your attention. His arms are open wide to welcome you with a great big hug. “You are looking awesome. I think you’ve kicked your magic up a notch or two.” He says with a grin.

You run the few steps over to Claude and pull him into a big hug, then you stand back and take a good look. “Pompoms? Cute! You have certainly filled out, you handsome devil.” You smile back at him, giving a fake punch to his chin. You were so excited to see Professor Byleth you almost knocked her over with your enthusiastic hug.

Everyone is chatting and filling in the blanks of the last five years as they reacquaint themselves. Within a week everyone has found a place to stay that works for them, they’ve cleaned up and have the kitchen functioning, and things begin to settle a bit. Nobody has heard from the Ashen Wolves and you feel anxious, not sure if they survived this long or if they’ve abandoned Abyss.

Finding a few minutes to yourself you head up to the second floor and before you know it you find yourself in the library, looking at the books with a new light in your eyes. Some books you had not seen here before have also shown up. Those books hoarded in certain students rooms (Hubert, Linhardt :cough:) have been returned to the shelves. Still not finding everything that you are looking for, you recall there’s one more library to check out.  You gather your courage and decide to finally head over to Abyss. It is quiet here. You don’t see anyone as you silently make to your destination.

The disorganized chaos that is the Shadow Library of Abyss stands before you. Books could be found anywhere on any shelf. They are arranged by ‘first hole found on a shelf stuff book in’ order. Another problem is that the cover may say one subject, and the real contents of the book may be completely different. After a short while you are surrounded by several stacks of books when you hear a familiar voice behind you.

“You’re back, eh?” A low sultry voice comes from the doorway, causing you to leap to your feet knocking over a stack of books next to you.

You run over to the tall man giving him a hug. “I am so happy to see you. How are you? How is everyone?” you ask him as your left hand slides down his arm, fingers reaching around his hand to hold it in yours.

“Everyone is…good.” He says, trying to read the look on your face, deciphering why you won’t look him in the eyes.

You let go of his hand as Balthus barges into the room. The big lug grabs you, holding you tightly against his chest. “Hey cutie! Glad you’re back in town!” you can feel his chest vibrating with every word as he nearly squeezes the life out of you.

“Good. Leggo.” You squeak as he finally loosens his grip so that you can breathe again.

“Finally decided to come back to us eh? What brings you down here?” Balthus asks

“Psychokinetic escutcheon” you casually respond.

“Uh sure.” He says scratching his head. “More of that deep magic stuff, huh.”

“Exactly.” You grin.

“Well, if you have the time, meet up for a couple of drinks. We all need to catchup with each other.“ he grins, scratching the back of his head.

“You got it, big guy.” You smile as Balthus leaves.

“So what have you been doing, friend? It’s been 5 years.” Yuri asks with a really good poker face.

You cast a telekinesis spell that allows you to grab stacks of books to put them back on shelves, clearing a path to walk around. “Right after the war started, my parents freaked out. Took me from here and dragged me back to Morfis. Morfis is nothing but a bunch of lazy and chickenshit mages. Why fight when you can hide is their philosophy. So I was dragged back and hit the studies hard. The only reports we would get in would be how devastating everything was, everything was burning or blown up. Making my parents even more protective of me. I did learn quite a bit. Rearranged some of their defensive spells to work in other ways. Hopefully I will have some surprises for the Empire should they attack. Anyway, took me forever to find a way away from them, get on a boat, back to Fodlan and finally here. “

“So you’ve crossed continents and countries, just to find yourself crawling around down here in Abyss?” Yuri smirks.

“Yeah, why not?” you chuckle. “Everyone here has helped me so much. I feel like I owe all of you my life. I know I owe you, you’ve saved me from my own stupid actions in battle, jumping in without thinking.”

Yuri stands with fake shock across his face. “You are an imposter! What have you done with (y/n)? She would never admit to being wrong!”

You laugh at him. “Hey, I can mature a bit you know. Realize I made mistakes, I was reckless. I’m working on being better in the defense category. Being responsible and there for all of my dear friends and loved ones.” You blush.

“I’m happy to have a few minutes with you alone, once Constance catches wind that you are here, I probably won’t see either of you for weeks.” The purple haired man tilts his head, taking in the changes in your appearance since he had last seen you.

“Well, we can talk now for a bit before she finds me, eh?” You snicker, hiding your smile behind your hand.

“Do what you want. I just came here for a good book.” He grabs a book off the shelf and turns to leave.

You look crushed. You’ve missed everyone for so long and fought hard to get here for this? To have him treat you like chump change? You turn away and sit on one of the stacks of books you had piled around you. Unfortunately, your stacking was not as straight as it could be, suddenly you are tumbling over before you know it. You throw your hands above your head waiting for it to smack against the bannister.

Instead you are caught in Yuri’s strong arms and lifted up against his broader than before chest.

“Changed my mind. Now I have something better to take back with me.” Yuri says as he carries you out of the library.

 ****************

This started as a oneshot. Then my daughter saw the title and wants me to write for all of the Mighty Morfis Power Mages/Rangers/Idunno. I am torn. 

BLue: Dimitri Lion

Yellow: Claude, Deer

Red: Edelgard, Eagle

Green: Flayn, Fish

Purple: Yuri Wolf 

It would probably be best to start something new if I go there. 

This story could continue on its own. Who knows.

[doing-all-write]

don’t be a baby

Pairing: Billy x Reader

Summary: Reader is a nurse who’s brother falls into the Sky Walker crowd. After he gets injured, Billy takes it upon himself to look after Reader’s brother and calm Reader’s nerves as they get ready for their next job. But when the job goes awry and Reader can’t keep Billy safe, how does she cope? 

Word Count: 11K

Warnings: Smut (only 18+ interact please!), swearing, blood and softness bc we love two idiots pining over each other but refusing to acknowledge their feelings for each other!!

A/N: I wrote this in a caffeine fueled burst of inspiration after talking to @mrhoemazzello​ about how much of a baby Billy would be when he gets injured and you have to patch him up and it made me so soft and shoutout to @itsabenthing​ for helping me flesh out this idea and for always being such a great cheerleader 💖but this bad boy is DEFINITELY going to be a two parter so keep an eye out part two coming soon!

Also the first part of this story takes place before the events of 6Underground and the job they’re planning and go on is the one in the movie just to give everyone some context. 

💖💖As always likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated 💖💖

There was a thump at the window. 

She ignored it. It was close to midnight and the idea that someone could be knocking on her (three stories high) window at this time seemed ludicrous. She groaned, shifting in the chair she had curled up in hours ago, reaching out for the sweet release of unconsciousness to claim her before her anxiety kept her up.

She knew Billy was most likely gone. She didn't want to admit it to herself but the relentless loop in her head was a broken record of he's gone he's gone he's gone he's gone.

There was still a part of her that hoped Billy had gotten away unscathed. She had seen him in action, she knew what he was capable of and she sent out a wish that Billy would come running into her apartment like the day he came running into the hospital. 

~~~

She had been working in the Emergency Room, taking over a fellow nurses night rotations in exchange for a few extra days off, when a man had limped in, blue eyes frantic, blonde hair damp and smashed to his forehead, carrying what looked like a dummy in a hoodie, both of them covered in dried blood.

She raced around the desk to them, looping the arm of the prone man around her shoulders as she helped steer them to the nearest room. The blonde kept babbling on about how the man between them had hurt himself while they wrestled the man into a bed. Once the unconscious man was laying down, she pulled back the hood obscuring his face and felt her soul leave her body.

Her brother's face was the one staring back at her.

Now is not the time. Pull it together. You know what to do. Her Nurse Brain kicked in and she shoved the blonde to the side as she hastily started taking care of her brother. Once he had been stabilized and diagnosed with nothing more than a nasty bump on the head, a broken ankle and a badly bloodied nose, she had shoved the shadow who had been following her around into the hallway, crowding him into the supply closet and demanding answers. 

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Oh, careful there, love. You keep talking dirty to me like that and I'll fall in love with you."

"Why the fuck were you with my brother?" 

"Taking him out on a date because he spoke to me with the same dirty mouth you both share apparently." 

He was obstinate, shifting between smart ass answers and flirting as she tried to get any scrap of information from him. She finally hit her limit and spat out, "He's my fucking brother and if you don't tell me what happened, I'll assume it was you and have you thrown in jail. I don't give a fuck about you," She had jabbed a finger into his chest and he winced, "but I do give a fuck about my family." 

Her Nurse Brain activated again when she saw him wince. Eyes zipping over him, assessing, she took in his bloodied face and hands. "Unzip your hoodie."

"Interesting. I'd always heard that angry sex was the best. Can't believe I'm gonna find out if that's true in this supply closet."

Rolling her eyes, she'd batted his hands away as he tried to prevent her from unzipping his hoodie. Fixing him with her if you don't let me do my fucking job I'll kill you and make it look like an accident stare, he had held his hands up in surrender. 

Metallic ticks were the only noise as she pulled the zipper down, revealing the red tank top underneath. 

"Wait, was this originally white?" 

A huff of breath was the only answer she received before she pulled him back into the room with her brother, patching him up while she kept up a running commentary of grumbling about how he had endangered not only her own brother but also himself.

"I mean, what kind of stupid, reckless, idiot would do something like that! Jesus, you see one too many Marvel movies and think, 'hmm, that looks easy. I can do that too!' I mean honestly."

Her monologue was interrupted by the feel of a rough palm grasping her forearm. It seemed like trying to get the next words out were more painful than sustaining the injuries he had already taken that night, "I was protecting him. He works with our crew well and I told him not to come with us but he insisted. Said he needed these jobs so he could help his little sister pay off her student loans." 

That had shut her up. 

~~~

He didn't remember falling asleep but he stirred as he felt his arm being moved.

"It's okay, it's just me." 

"I'm sorry, I don't know a 'me'. I only know the hard ass nurse who I had incredible sexual chemistry with." He heard her huff out a breath, could almost hear her eyes rolling as well. Her fingers were gentle as she made sure the IV drip in his arm was still firmly in place. She saw his lips quirk and rolled her eyes, again, "Go back to sleep. I like you more when you're unconscious."

"Great bedside manner you have there, sweetheart. You got a name?" 

There was silence, then, "It's (Y/N)."

He sighed, "Well, (Y/N), it's nice to meet you. I'm Billy, and that guy in the opposite bed? That's Mark. Though I'm assuming you two already know each other since you're related and all."

"If you weren't in a hospital bed, I'd smack you."

"There's that bedside manner that keeps the patients coming back."

~~~

Billy didn't remember when he drifted off again but when he came to, the light on the other side of his eyelids was the dull yellow of the beginning rays of sunlight welcoming another morning. Eyelids fluttering open, Billy had seen her, curled up in a hospital chair right by Mark's bed, hand cupping her brother's as their chests rose and fell in tandem. Feeling like he was encroaching on a private moment, he closed his eyes again, praying that the tear he felt running down his cheek would dry before either of them would wake up. 

~~~

"Hey. (Y/N). Wake up. C'mon. I've got him from here, go home and shower. Grab some food." 

Her eyelids flickered open and a groan came flying out of her mouth as she slowly started rolling her neck around. As she did so, she couldn't help her eyes from straying to the bed across the room. But it was empty. 

~~~

Her brother had been discharged the next day and she'd been keeping a close eye on him since. A few days later, she kicked open the door of his apartment, yelling out a greeting as she tried to balance the two large tote bags of food, games and movies she had brought over to help keep him entertained and fed as he healed up.

"I know you're a purist when it comes to Star Trek but I brought over the reboots because one, Chris Pine is very easy on the eyes and two, Star Trek is Star Trek I mean, as long as someone says 'live long and prosper' you're good, right?"

Her voice trailed off as she padded into his living room only to be met with four pairs of eyes staring back at her. Everyone, including her brother, was wearing black athletic clothes making them look a bit like a goth gymnastics team, she felt like a toddler amongst them in her over-sized sweater and leggings.

Her eyes sought out her brother's in hopes he would explain. Mark's eyes pleaded with her to be understanding and it wasn't until she heard someone clear their throat that she realized she recognized the blue eyes staring back at her,

"I'll, uh, I'll just come help you unpack those bags. Okay, love?" The steel cutting along the edge of his words gave her no time to argue as she felt Billy's large hand pressing into her lower back as he shoved her into the kitchen. 

Tripping over her feet, she flung the Star Trek DVD back onto the counter as she rounded on Billy.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" the words were pulverized through her clenched teeth. Her hands curled into fists to prevent them from shaking. She was terrified that these people were back in her brother's life, and only a few days after he had left the hospital because of their recklessness.  

"It's so lovely to see you too! I missed you and your warm bedside manner so much darling." He snarled back as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Now is not the time. Last time you showed up in my life you almost got my brother killed. You better explain yourself now or I'm grabbing the broom and beating everyone in that room out the door and then breaking the broom over your head personally."

Blue eyes widened till she could see the whites all the way around them, "How are you allowed to take care of people? You should be locked up by the pigs not me." He swiveled around, grabbing a beer from the fridge and popping the top off by putting the lid of the bottle against the rim of the counter and hitting it with the heel of his hand. 

Peering out of the corner of his eye he saw her eyes widen, a flush building in her cheeks. She hated how that simple action had sent a flash of warmth through her. 

Smirking, he turned back to her, bringing the bottle to his lips, taking a long sip as she shook herself from thinking about what other things Billy could do with his hands. 

So maybe she had noticed how handsome he was after he had fallen asleep in the hospital. She was only human. 

"While I'm so glad you're enjoying my brothers hospitality, maybe you could dignify me with an answer?" She knew the sarcasm dripping from every word was poisonous but she couldn't help herself. Just because she had seen dried tear tracks on Billy's face when she had woken up to check on him in the cool dawn morning and, alright, maybe she had checked the medical records in the hospital for information on him ("It's like Facebook stalking!" her voice rising as she quickly tried to close his records after her co-worker called her out on it.) and maybe her heart had twisted in on itself when she woke up the next morning and he was gone and maybe she had spent a few thousand hours thinking about him and wondering if she would ever see him again didn't mean she wanted him in her life. 

Right? 

Sighing, Billy leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms as the bottle dangled between two long fingers, "We're planning another job and we asked your brother to do surveillance. All he'll be doing is sitting on that couch," he closed one eye, pointing towards the sofa Mark was currently residing at, "watching security cameras and making sure none of us get caught and warning us of any potential baddies around the corner. It's easy, it's harmless and you could even be sitting next to him babysitting if you're really that concerned about my safety."

Rolling her eyes, she stepped forward to start unpacking the bags, needing something to do with her hands and eyes. Looking right at Billy was like staring at the sun. She feared looking at him for too long would result in permanent damage from his eyes boring into hers, or that the fluttering in her stomach would get stronger the more she talked to him.  

She'd be lying if she said she hadn't seen the group Billy ran with around the city. Walking along, earbuds in, minding her own business, she'd hear a thud, look up and instead of squirrels scampering along the telephone wires, it would be people. Executing flips, yelling, jeering, she'd watch in awe while Nurse Brain would be calculating what kind of injuries they'd sustain and how bad said injuries would be if they fell, but they never did. 

They looked more comfortable walking in the sky than on the ground. They were flying. Confident. So sure that there would be something there to catch them. She had started calling them "Sky Walkers."

Every time she saw them from then on, she always had an ache in her heart for the rest of the day. She craved the security and confidence they had. She'd looked down at her feet encased in Nike's, cursing them for staying ground to the tiled floor of the hospital. 

"All I know is, last time my brother got mixed up with you guys, he showed up at my hospital, bloody and unconscious." Her shoulders hunched forward as anger drained from her body thinking about how frightened she had been. "Can you blame me for being scared?" 

This last sentence was almost missed by Billy. But seeing her look so defeated, Billy's heartstrings tugged. Mark talked about his sister a lot. It was clear they took care of each other. He had always wondered what it would have been like to have that consistency.

Placing Tupperware on the kitchen table, the silence stretched out as Billy sized her up. Finally, her eyes rose, meeting his underneath the harsh fluorescent light. The eyes staring into hers were calculating but not cold. They weren't the eyes of a doctor, sizing up a patient and only seeing a maze of veins, arteries and organs that with the right snip or stitch could be fixed. His was a gaze that peeled back the layers of skin and bone, seeing right into the most vulnerable parts of yourself. 

"You've noticed that your loans are almost entirely paid off. Haven't you." It wasn't a question. It was a statement. Billy had been the one to walk Mark through the steps to help pay off her loans without it being suspicious. He had heard her on the other end of the line when she called to tell Mark how much her loans had gone down. The voice on the other end high-pitched, tinny, but the love between them so palpable he had to leave the room. 

Her eyes darted down as she busied herself carrying Tupperware over to the fridge, her hair a curtain over her profile as she leaned down to place it in the fridge. "He loves you, you know. A lot. That's the only reason he took the gig." He took a sip of beer, watching her frame, way too still to not be listening, peering into the fridge but not seeing anything. "He's friends with Jean, the mastermind, out there and when he complained about how unfair it was of you to have so many loans, Jean offered him a cut of the benefits if he helped us with the job." 

She didn't feel the coolness of the fridge air wafting over her, she felt nothing but enormous guilt. She was the reason he had been injured. That he was mixed up in this crowd. She was the reason he was putting himself in harms way and if he died? It would be all her fault. 

Billy, chuckled to himself as she was gripped in the throes of an existential crisis, "Jean's a good guy but I think he mainly knew having a nurse in our good graces would be immeasurably helpful."

His eyes widened as she turned to face him, flecks of mascara caught in the tears moving down her face but she didn't seem to notice them streaking down. It seemed like she barely noticed him, "You have to keep an eye on him. Please. If anything happens to him-because of me-I-I don't..." her voice trailed off.

Billy crouched down, cupping her shoulders as he pressed his forehead into hers, "Hey. Hey, love. Love? Look at me, focus on my voice, okay?" He pulled back so he could look into both of her eyes. With enormous effort she pulled herself back to this moment, in her brothers kitchen, crouched on the floor with a Sky Walker. "I'll keep an eye on him. He's one of us now. We look after our own, got it? We always do." She nodded, searching his eyes for any sign of lying but there was none. Just warm, blue skies, promising her that from then on out, everything would be fine. 

~

After their rendezvous in the kitchen, Billy had gone back to the living room to plan while she had splashed cold water on her face and pulled herself together. By the time she slunk out of the kitchen, arms wrapped around herself, everyone was leaving and Billy had his arm around a brunette girl who reeked of sexual experience and danger. 

She was pretty sure she reeked of "Christmas Cookie" hand sanitizer and sexual frustration. 

Billy caught her eye as he strolled out of the room, winking at her as he walked past. 

Her heart caught in her throat at the action but remembered how his girlfriend was someone who flew through the air with enormous ease and she was someone who was locked on the ground. 

~

Patching her brother up came easy to her. She wished it had been the first time she had fixed him up but that would be a lie. She went over to his apartment a few times a week. Sometimes the other Sky Walker's would be there, sometimes not. Most of the time if they were over, they spent their time planning the next big heist. Maps and blueprints covered every available surface and surveillance footage became a comforting background noise as she would prep dinner or check Mark's ankle and help him do physical therapy.

Sometimes it would just be Jean hanging out, playing video games with Mark. The first dinner he joined them for, she found she could barely look at him. The resentment towards him still a solid rock in her stomach. 

A few meals later, Jean gently tugged her into the living room after she had gotten Mark set up in bed, "Alright. I know why you won't look at me. Let me have it."

He had sat on the couch for over an hour, hands folded in his lap, nodding as she ripped him a new one, getting out all of her fear and anger. Once she had run out of steam and was standing in front of him, he had taken her hands in his, making the same promise Billy had. That Mark was one of their own now. He would do everything he could to take care of him. The eyes peering back up at her were full of nothing but sincerity.

Glancing down, she sniffled, peering at their hands intertwined, "You have questionable tattoos." Jean barked out a laugh, "You think mine are bad? You should see some of Billy's."  

From then on, she looked forward to having the Sky Walker's around. Whenever she entered Mark's apartment in the weeks leading up to the mission, her heart would speed up in anticipation.

Sometimes it would come crashing to the ground when she saw no sign of Billy. Other times, she was positive individuals could see her heart beating through her shirt when her eyes caught his from across the room. 

The only downer was, if Billy was there, that usually meant his girlfriend, Cassandra, was there as well. 

She had tried, a valiant effort in her opinion, to make nice with her. Most of the time, they were the only girls around. Working to find common ground with Cassandra was proving to be a difficult task, mainly because Cassandra would fix her with a blank stare until she slunk back into the kitchen to restock Mark's fridge.  

The last straw for her had been when she had walked into Mark's apartment, yelling hello only to look up and see Cassandra fixing her with a blank stare and sharpening a knife

She quickly found that anyone who carried their own knife sharpening kit was someone she didn't particularly trust. It made her nervous then, that Billy did so much. 

But she didn't want to interfere. She didn't want to think about all the lethal ways Cassandra could injure her with that blade if she found out she had meddled in her relationship.

When Billy was there, she could hardly stop the grin that threatened to split her face as she busied herself in the kitchen making food for everyone, jumping every time someone came into the kitchen, waiting for Billy to come in under the guise of getting a beverage but always stopping to chat with her. 

Those stolen minutes in the kitchen with Billy were quickly becoming her favorite times. 

She hadn't meant to develop a crush on Billy, but, how could she not? Other than the physical reasons, (she had once seen him take his shirt off to try on a new one and she almost dropped a whole bowl of soup into Mark's lap) he was genuine. Ever since he had looked into her eyes and promised to take care of her brother, he had kept that promise. 

When plans would change, he'd come into the kitchen and update her. He'd tell her all the different contingency plans they had. And while she knew her brother wasn't going on this mission, she still felt a sense of peace wash over her as he walked her through the plan. 

There was one night she asked him, "How did you even get into the Sky Walker stuff?" Coughing on the sip of beer he'd just downed, he made a choking noise, "The what stuff?"

Blushing, she realized she had let slip the private name she had called them ever since she first saw them leaping through the sky, "Umm, Sky Walkers? It's dumb, I know, but I saw you guys months ago leaping over buildings and wires and to me, from the ground, it was like you were walking on the sky, like you had mastered the force and the elements and I've called you that ever since..." her voice trailed off as Billy sat down next to her.   

Laying his arms on the table, a smirk played across his lips, "Well, now that I know you're a huge Star Wars nerd, you're even cuter." his eyes dancing with mirth.

Her heart sank at that. She knew Billy didn't feel the same way about her (why would he when he had Cassandra slinking around out there waiting out for him to join her in the sky) but her heart still leaped at the knowledge that he thought she was cute.

His eyes fixed on an unseen spot as he mulled the name over, "I gotta say, I like the name Sky Walkers. Might bring that up to the whole team. Give you full credit and trademark rights of course." He winked and she giggled as she pulled her mug of tea closer. 

"Why don't you join us in the living room? You're always welcome. And I have insider intel that when Jean's over, you two hang out like you're best friends. So why don't you want to hang out with me?" He made an exaggerated pouty face at her as she struggled to not lean over and bite his exposed bottom lip.

"Because you annoy me" she said primly as she lifted her mug to her mouth, then before she could stop herself, "and I don't think your girlfriend likes me very much." 

The tea was scalding but she forced herself to take a long sip so she wouldn't have to look at Billy's face. 

Billy sat there, studying her, she seemed so out of place with the dark clothes that were rotating in and out of Mark's place. They'd all be caught up in planning, then she'd come bursting into the apartment and it was like she was bringing sunshine in with her. 

She painted her nails with pink sparkles, she watched romantic comedies, she told him about the little kids she played with in the hospital on her rounds, she laughed easily, she engaged with the other members of the crew, pulling them into her warmth, her goodness. She had patched all of them up at one time or another. The more she got to know the whole crew, the more she relaxed and the more she relaxed, the more Billy found sunshine spilling through her cracks and coaxing him towards her warmth. 

But then, Cassandra would lazily lift an eyebrow at him, nod her head and he'd leave with her. He'd known Cassandra since he joined the Sky Walkers. They'd just recently started...well...he wouldn't call it "dating" so much as he and Cassandra would do a job together and then have mind blowing sex after when adrenaline made them both want to explode out of their skins. 

He was starting to realize though that he and Cassandra didn't...talk. Not like how Billy talked to (Y/N).

He laid out his hands on the table, looking at his fingers. They were calloused, rough, covered in tattoos. Her hands were soft despite having to wash them a million times a day. ("I use lotion every day, multiple times a day, how do you not own lotion Billy?" He had walked into Mark's apartment the next day only to be met with a bottle of Bath and Body Works hand lotion being thrown at him by Mark. His heart had squeezed in his chest, making it hard for him to breathe.) and her nails were adorned with pink sparkles. His own nails were busted and, he was pretty sure, had dried blood under them.

He had no business thinking the butterflies that erupted in his stomach every time she smiled at him meant anything more than she was cute and he liked cute women. Never mind that if she said Cassandra didn't like her he was on the verge of saying he'd dump her. 

"Yeah, well. Cassandra doesn't like too many people. I wouldn't worry about it too much." He slapped his hands on the table pushing himself up. Lifting her eyes from her mug she watched him retreat back into the living room, the muscles of his back moving and shifting as he made his way back to the Sky Walkers, slipping easily onto the arm of the chair Cassandra was lazing in.

She really hated how good they looked next to each other. 

She finished her tea, listening to them finalizing plans and making arrangements for the job, which would happen the day after next.  

She had been hoping she'd have a shift scheduled at the hospital but no such luck. 

Sighing, she stood up to rinse her mug out. In less than 48 hours she would be back here, sitting with Mark, trying to keep herself occupied and to not care too much that Billy was out there and she couldn't do anything to keep him safe. 

~~~

The job went awry so quickly. 

She didn't know what to make of it. One minute she had been sitting on Mark's sofa, curled up with a book as Mark sat at his desk, surrounded by monitors. Listening to him call out commands, chuckle softly at jokes, the sharp tap of keys as he disconnected security cameras or diverted them away from where the Sky Walkers were prowling.

For a while, she had been standing behind him, watching all of this happen as the group slipped through the halls of a lavish hotel. Tapping Mark's shoulder, in an over exaggerated whisper, she told him to tell the team that she said good luck and that if any of them got injured she "wouldn't patch them up because then they wouldn't learn anything." 

Mark rolled his eyes and obliged, reaching a hand down to squeeze (Y/N)'s in a reassuring gesture.

Through Mark's headset, she heard the team giving their thanks, promising her that this job would do away with the rest of her loans and they'd be back to her before she knew it. Billy had looked dead set into the nearest security camera and winked as he promised he'd come back in one piece.

A gasp flew form her parted lips as her brother cleared his throat, reminding Billy to get his ass moving and to stop flirting with his sister. 

Then, shit hit the fan.

It started with her hearing Billy's roughly accented voice piercing through Mark's headphones, yelling about the jewels being fakes.

Mark talked him through it, as Jean yelled back at Billy which is when Mark started yelling. 

That's when she had heard gunshots. 

Everything was a blur after that. She ran to the monitors and thought she was looking at a video game. There were so many men with guns running towards where the Sky Walkers were she assumed it was an army of some sort. She saw the flash of guns discharging and people she knew, people she had come to love, fall to the ground where she hoped like hell they would get back up again. 

Part of her wanted to call her hospital, pull some strings and help as many of them as she could but Mark had pulled her into his chest, telling her it was no use. 

In the confusion and mayhem she thought she had seen Billy, necklace clamped firmly between his teeth, jumping through a window but she couldn't be sure. 

So, she and Mark had to sit and wait. Till Jean came back. 

Just Jean.

He explained what had happened as he and Mark sat at the kitchen table, nursing a bottle of whiskey. She had stayed for one drink but the grief didn't feel like one she could share in. 

She finally left, as she walked away, each step thudded to the ground while the only refrain that carried her home was billybillybillybillybillybillybilly. It wasn't until she found herself standing outside of her front door that she realized her body had carried her home while her thoughts had been in the sky.

Her body felt heavier, though she knew that a part of her heart had died in Mark's apartment that night and she wasn't sure if it would ever be whole again.

Her body was on autopilot as she stepped into the shower but each drop of water hitting her back felt like a knife.

She knew Cassandra and the rest of the team were there to help him. No matter how she felt about Cassandra personally, she knew she was part of the team. They were there for back up but so many people were in the fray.

So many people gone.

The water had gone cold by the time she stepped out of the shower. Not that she could feel it anyway.

Braiding her hair, she settled down on the chair by her window. It overlooked the fire escape she would lounge on with a glass of wine on nice summer nights.

Tonight it was empty, utilitarian. Only reminding her of how many Billy had fallen through as he tried to get away.

She leaned her head against the window, feeling the glass pushing back against her skull. Easing the dull ache that throbbed within as she closed her eyes. 

~~~

That's where she had been when she heard the first thump.

Sleep had been within her grasp when she heard the second thump. 

Groggily reaching into her sweatpants pocket, she pulled her phone out and saw it was 3:14 am. 

There were no texts or calls from Mark.

She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose, wondering if it was her neighbors making that noise. 

The third thump rattled her window causing her to jolt out of her chair.

Slowly, she reached her hand forward, nudging the blinds back, letting her eyes adjust to the nighttime as the lights from street lamps below worked to permeate the darkness that covered the world. That's when she saw the dark lump of something on her fire escape.

Squinting her eyes, her first thought was, why would someone throw their garbage bag onto my fire escape?

Flicking on the lamp she had by the window, it cast an uneven glow over the lump revealing dark clothes and athletics shoes spattered with blood.

The figure raised its head and time slowed down in those moments. The wan light drifting up from below barely illuminated the eyes staring back at her but she'd know the color anywhere. Those blue eyes, the color of her sky, was the only way she knew it was Billy.

The rest of him resembled a man who had scrabbled his way back from hell. His face was covered in scraps and tears. His visage and hands covered with dried blood. There was a wound on his neck that was slowly leaking blood but had started to congeal into a nasty mess.

His hair was matted to his head. His right eye was ringed in the blues and blacks of the beginnings of a nasty black eye. Sweat shined on his face as he blearily took in her face. He did his best to fight the smile breaking over his lips but he was so grateful to see her he barely noticed when his lips cracked even more.  

As she opened the window she heard someone panting "thank god thank god thank god" and it took her a minute to realize that the prayer was falling from her lips. She bundled Billy into her apartment, setting him down on the chair by the window, still warm from her body. 

She locked the window, drawing her curtains closed and rushed over to the front door, double checking it had been locked as well. For extra security she pushed one of her kitchen chairs underneath the door knob. 

Hearing a snort she turned, "You watch too many bad gangster movies as a kid?" 

Fighting against the lump in her throat, her voice came out thick as she tried to match his snark, "Yeah, well. You'll thank me later when the bad guys are stopped by my Ikea chair."

He heaved out a sigh that she supposed was as close as he could get to a laugh in his state. Sinking deeper into the chair, hissing as he finally allowed his body to relax. Nurse Brain kicked in as she took stock of his body, where he was holding tension, where he was avoiding putting pressure, assessing how old the cuts were. After a quick run down, she raced to her freezer.

Filling her arms with every bag of frozen veggies she had, she quickly wrapped them in paper towels, briskly walking back over to Billy's form. She watched the rise and fall of his chest, listened to the rattle of every intake, so grateful for each shuttery breath. 

The grateful feeling was quickly overcome by anger. This asshole. 

This was the second time he had shown up to throw himself at her mercy in a horrific state. She almost wished he were dead. She felt her knees shake, betraying how grateful she was that he was alive and in her apartment. 

Instead of telling him all that though, she slapped a bag of frozen peas on his eye.

Yelping, his body curled inward as his hand reached up to catch the bag, pressing the peas back into place, "What the fuck? These are bloody freezing. I barely make it out alive and you're trying to kill me with frost bite from," he pulled the bag back squinting at it, "frozen peas?"  

"Oh I'm so sorry that the frozen veggies I slapped on your busted face so you don't swell up like a fucking balloon aren't to your liking. My sincerest apologizes your majesty." She hissed out as she slapped another bag on his side as he let out a grunt.

He pressed a hand to the bag against his side as she mumbled, her fingers dancing over his form as she poked and prodded, trying to feel what the damage was, what she could do for him here and if he needed to get to a hospital. 

"Couldn't make this experience a little more pleasant could ya?" He didn't mean to be a dick but in his defense, he had had a hell of a day. The job didn't go at all like they planned, he'd lost friends, Cassandra turned out to be a backstabbing thief, he didn't get the necklace, he'd fallen from the top of a building and then, to really just make the day fucking wild, when he'd come too, some weirdo had offered him the strangest proposition he'd ever heard after pretending he was going to kill Billy.

So, yeah. He was a little grumpy. 

"You're lucky I even let your sorry ass into my apartment. How do you even know where I live anyway?"

"I've been having you followed by my top men."

"You asked Mark didn't you."

"Fuck."

Her lips quirked up for a second as she finished rotating his foot around checking for any swelling or broken bones. Standing up she declared, "You don't have anything seriously wrong or broken on you which is a fucking miracle. Just some bad scraps that I can take care of here." She made her way to the hall closet where she kept a first aid kit and other medical accessories. Ever since Mark sliced his hand open one Thanksgiving which had been dubbed the "Bloodiest Thanksgiving Since The Pilgrims Landed" she figured she'd better be stocked. 

Billy sank lower into the chair. Leaning his head back he let out a sigh, hearing (Y/N) mumbling to herself, rattling around, he could almost pretend that he had come over under normal circumstances.

Hearing the soft thud of her footfalls, he cracked an eye open as she pulled a stool closer to his face. Looking up at him through her eyelashes, she started pouring something on a cotton ball, "If you thought the frozen peas were bad you're really gonna hate this." 

"What could be worse than-" his sentence was cut off by a strangled cry as she pressed the cotton ball onto the scrap by his eye. Slamming his fists on the arms of the chair, he felt his body seize up as he fought to keep control, "Fucking hell (Y/N). Seriously, they should revoke your nurses license."

"You keep disrespecting me like that and I'm just going to dump this whole bottle on you." She snapped at him. Billy pried his eyes open as he took deep breaths. He turned his head to face her, opening his mouth to fire off another comment when he glanced down at her hands and stopped. 

She was getting more of the disinfectant on the floor and her legs than she was getting on the cotton ball held in her hand. Her voice managed to be strong and sure but her hands told a different story. One of anxiety, one of worry, one of relief.

"Were you worried about me baby?" His voice was so soft that for a second she wondered if someone else had entered her apartment. Locking eyes with him, she thought about how just hours before, she had been certain she would never see his face again.

Never joke with him again, talk to him, share a quiet moment with him, never learn everything about him, never sit with him at their own kitchen table one day.

She wanted that. She wanted hours and days and months and years of kitchen table talks with Billy. Feeling the relief at having him back with her, she didn't even think about her next actions. 

She leaned forward and kissed him...only to pull back immediately, "Oh my god I'm such an idiot. Your lip is so busted, I'm so sorry I shouldn't have done that, that was so dumb and what if I had hurt you even more? That would have been terrible-" 

Billy's hand reached up, cupping the back of her head and pulling her into him. Her lips were soft and he bet a hundred bucks that she used chapstick every day. He knew his lips were chapped, cracked and probably coated in dried blood but he didn't care. Feeling her pressed against him helped take away the fear he had been trying to tamp down ever since the maniac in the garage had pretended to kill him. 

Finally pulling back he let out a shaky laugh, "Were you really that worried I wouldn't come back to you, love?" 

"No, I was worried that you wouldn't help me pay off my loans. Fuck your safety, I needed money." She was trying to get them back to their usual banter but the big gulps of air she was taking betrayed how she was really feeling. 

"You were worried about me. You wanted me to be safe and come back to you in one piece. Don't deny it." The smugness of his voice made her smile as she pressed a kiss to his cheek and whispered in his ear, "You ever tell anyone I said this and I'll deny it but, yes."

She pulled away, placing the cotton balls and bottle on the floor, giving herself some time to collect herself as Billy reached his hands toward her, grabbing her own and rubbing his thumbs over the backs of her hands, sending sparks up her arms right into her heart. 

Her heart ached for both of them. They both had lost so much today but they were lucky enough to be able to come back to each other. Billy heaved a sigh and looked up at her, "You were right." 

"I usually am but what specifically was I right about in this instance?" 

"You're a giant pain in my ass. About Cassandra. She wasn't trustworthy. Left me hanging off the edge of a building, stole the necklace and left the rest of the team behind," he brushed a piece of her hair out of the way, letting his fingers linger on her cheek, "should have listened to you." 

Blushing, she leaned her cheek into Billy's palm, "Hmm, I could get used to hearing you tell me that." Billy chuckled as she straightened up and fixed him with a glare, "You just have to keep promising me you're going to come back to me in one piece." 

Billy's eyes darkened, shifting in the chair as he remembered the deal the man in the room had proposed to him. Being able to go completely off the grid. Everything wiped clean. He would be a ghost. 

But being in (Y/N)'s apartment, holding her hands in his, having her smile, kiss and hold him...he wondered if he had made the right decision. 

"I'll do my best, darling." He muttered, purposefully not saying promise because he knew, some day soon, he would break that promise and he didn't know if he'd be able to live with himself knowing he had broken her trust. 

Placing a soft kiss on his lips, she stroked the side of his face with her thumb. Sniffing she shook her head slightly, "Alright. Quit distracting me, I need to finish patching you up." 

He chuckled, "Would it kill you to be nice to me? I mean, we just had an incredibly tender moment and I did have a pretty rough day..." his voice trailed off as he widened his eyes in an attempt to gain sympathy. She scoffed as she grabbed the cotton balls and disinfectant again.

"I suppose falling from the top of a building would kind of ruin your day. Now hold still. And don't be a baby." She dabbed the soaked cotton ball on the scrap on his neck, intertwining her fingers with his as he hissed out a breath. Squeezing his fingers, she murmured apologizes and encouragement, "I'm sorry my love, it's okay. Breathe. You're doing great."  

After slapping some band-aids on the worst of the cuts ("What, no Spiderman Band-Aids?") she helped him to the shower, leaving him to wash off the day as she went to her room to find some sweats for him. Luckily, she had nicked plenty of Mark's sweatpants over the years so she laid those and a shirt out for Billy to find when he came into the room from his shower. 

Hearing the door open, she looked up only to be met by a shirtless Billy, hair slicked back, chest damp, towel riding low on his hips. She didn't mean for the sharp intake of breath to be so audible but it was worth it when it earned her a smirk from Billy as he crossed over to her. 

"Even beat up all to hell, still not a terrible sight, huh?" 

Swallowing thickly she just nodded her head in agreement. Not trusting herself to speak she quickly turned and grabbed the clothes she laid out, shoved them into his arms and left, the sound of Billy chuckling following her out into the living room. 

Settling onto her couch she fiddled with the end of her braid, contemplating why she had seen anguish flash through Billy's eyes when she made him promise to come back to her in one piece. She had definitely noticed the lack of the word "promise" when Billy answered her request. 

The timeline of what happened since he fell didn't make much sense either. If Billy had fallen from the building, then where had he been for so long? There was no way somebody would have ignored a body laying unconscious in the street, especially with cops swarming the building. 

"Baby? Hey. I can sleep on the couch. I don't mind."

Jolting out of her thoughts, she blinked as she came back to the present moment, Billy standing over her, "No! You shouldn't be sleeping on a couch. You can sleep in my bed."

"I've been waiting for an invitation to your bed for a long time baby." She flushed as she pushed herself off the couch. Grabbing Billy's hand, they walked back to her bedroom. Settling themselves under the covers she was gripped by a sudden wave of anxiety, should she try to cuddle with him? Would he want space now? Did she want to give him space? He was the one sharing her bed.

The anxiety melted away when she heard a voice in her ear, "Come here, love. I won't bite. Unless you're into that." She giggled she turned her body to face his, nuzzling her face into his chest, breathing in the smell of him as he wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss onto the top of her head.

Stroking her back, they drifted off to sleep. Their breathe synching up as they finally felt safe from the world as they created their own little one in each others arms. 

~

The light streaming into her apartment caused her to stir. Stretching her body out she almost forgot that she had shared a bed with Billy last night. When she remembered, she was gripped with panic when she realized he was no longer there. Leaping from the bed, she raced into her living room, making sure that the door hadn't been busted down and Billy had been taken while she'd been sleeping. She knew it was illogical or she'd have to be the most sound sleeper on the planet but she still exhaled a breath when she saw her door was still locked and the chair underneath it still in place. 

"Gotta say, I did sleep better knowing that we were protected by your highly sophisticated security system." She turned at the sound of his deep voice, he was standing at her stove, cooking eggs as he smiled at her, "Did you really think I'd leave you like I did the first time we met?"

Shaking her head she went to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, exhaling as he wrapped one arm around her shoulders, using his other arm to keep stirring the eggs. "Don't scare me like that. I thought you got taken and I'm not Liam Neeson. I have no skills to use to find you." His chest rumbled with laughter, "Well, Liam Neeson isn't as pretty as you but you're crafty. I'd trust you to find me."

Placing a kiss onto his chest, she giggled, "Do you want coffee?" he nodded, "Also, how are you feeling today?"

"Sore. Like I fell from the top of a building and landed on concrete." 

"Huh. Interesting. Did you do anything out of the ordinary yesterday?" Faux innocence lacing her voice as she measured out coffee grounds.

"Yeah. I fell from the top of a building and landed on concrete." Was Billy's deadpan response which had her cracking up which made Billy laugh at how hard she was laughing. 

They finally pulled themselves together and stared at each other, him smiling, her hiccuping as she wiped at her eyes, "We're some pretty sick fucks for laughing at something like that, huh?"

He shrugged, "Probably. But it feels good to laugh. Especially with you." 

~~

After breakfast had been cleared away, Billy had stretched out on the couch, more bags of frozen peas on his various injuries. She came out of the kitchen, taking a moment to enjoy the peace before she broached the inevitable, "So, we should probably see Mark and Jean at some point. They're going to want to know you're okay." 

Billy grunted in agreement, tipping his head back to look at her, "Yeah. That's not a bad idea. They're going to be pissed I came to you first before them though." 

"I don't think so. I think they're just going to be relieved that you're alive. Plus, I am a nurse. It'd make sense to come to me and not those two chuckle fucks." She padded over to the couch, standing over him. "If you had gone to them first they would have just brought you to me anyway."

"That's true." He gazed up at her before grabbing her hands and tugging her down. Resisting, she giggled, "I don't want to fall on top of you and hurt you more, but I'll lie down next to you if you want."

He nodded eagerly, shifting his body over on the couch to make room for her, she curled up against him. Their legs intertwining as she splayed a hand over his chest, the rise and fall of his chest a balm to her anxiety and helping root her to him. 

Inhaling deeply, then instantly regretting it at how it caused his ribcage to feel like it might crack, Billy felt more content here than he ever had in his entire life. He wanted to capture this feeling, bottle it, find a way to make it permanent. Make it stick so he wouldn't have to do what he knew was coming. 

Sighing, (Y/N) snuggled closer, and his heart broke at how cruel he was being, how selfish. But he couldn't help it. He had asked for 24 hours and by god if he wouldn't make the most of them. 

"Hey." he murmured into her hair, she made a noise in the back of her throat that made his heart skip a beat. He brought two fingers to her chin, tilting her head back so she'd be forced to look at him. A slow grin traveled across her lips as he drank in her face, memorizing every part of it so he'd never forget. He had done it so many times in Mark's apartment in shitty lighting that in good lighting, it was like seeing your favorite painting in person instead of through a computer screen.  

Leaning down, he brought his lips to hers. Cupping his cheek with her hand, she kissed him back, relishing in how good it felt to be able to do this instead of just imagining it. Pulling back she smiled, resting her forehead against his. 

"What is it, baby?"

"It just...you have no idea how long I've wanted this. And to finally be able to do it...I don't know. It feels really good to have you here, with me. Like this." Widening her eyes she pulled back, "Not like, you being injured but like being with you in this, way." Her voice trailing off when she became bashful at how vulnerable she had just been. 

The wave of love, adoration and warmth he felt for her crested over him, causing his eyes to fall closed to keep the tears at bay. He didn't deserve this, he didn't deserve her. But, fuck, he would make the most of this time with her and make sure she knew how much he loved her. 

Tilting his head back down, he locked their lips together. She moved her lips against his, memorizing their curves, their slopes, how they fit together. Her hand cupped his cheek, being mindful of his black eye and the various scraps covering the planes of it. 

Feeling her hands caress his face with care, Billy became overcome. He was upset, guilt-ridden and worried he had made the wrong decision. Fighting to keep himself in the moment, he deepened the kiss, gripping her waist with an intensity that startled her. She jolted forward, causing Billy to groan when her heat made contact with the bulge that was growing larger by the second. 

"Damn baby, we've only been kissing for a minute, quit trying to get into my pants already." 

"You wish I was trying to get into your pants." her lips brushed against his with every other word and she could feel him smiling. He nipped at her bottom lip, causing her to gasp which allowed him ample time to connect their lips, exploring her mouth with his tongue. Their hands drifting up and down their sides, exploring as they got more comfortable with each others forms.

Dancing her fingers down his arms, she felt the muscles clenching and unclenching as his hand found her hip and squeezed causing her to moan involuntarily. Smirking, he ran his hand up and over the rise of her hip, trailing his fingers down into the dip of her waist. She snuggled closer to Billy, breathing in coffee, disinfectant and the unmistakable scent that was Billy. 

Draping his arm over her waist, he pulled her even closer to him. Feeling his hardening length in his sweatpants she tested the waters by circling her hips against him. Causing a moan to erupt from his mouth and throw his head back in ecstasy. 

"Baby, what's the professional nurses opinion of having sex when someone's injured? Asking for myself because if I don't have sex with you tonight I just may toss myself off another building."

Giggling, she ran her fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead so she could look in his eyes, "In a nurses opinion? Probably not. But in (Y/N)'s personal opinion? Who gives a shit I've wanted to fuck you since the first day I saw you." 

Locking his eyes onto hers, her breath hitched in her throat at the intensity of his gaze. His normally sky blue eyes were the color before a storm and his hand was locked onto her hip with a strength that she couldn't wait to explore later. 

"Then get up here, baby, and fuck me how you've always wanted to." 

Swinging her leg over, she found herself straddling Billy, placing her hands on his chest, she felt the large planes of his chest expanding as he took a shaky breath in, his eyes glassy. Flicking her hair back she leaned forward to kiss him deeply, "What baby?"

Shaking his head he cleared his throat, "Nothing. Just, dammit baby. You look like a goddess." 

Blushing she bent down to nip at his throat, causing him to buck his hips up, causing his hard length to rub against her clothed cunt causing them both to dissolve into moans. Pushing herself up, she started rocking her hips teasingly along his cock. 

Whining in the back of his throat he begged, "Please, love, I don't care, just fuck me. Please." 

Shocked at the control she had over this man, she ripped the t shirt she had been wearing over her head, exposing her tits and black underwear she had been wearing. Billy keened and grasped her tits, causing her to push her chest forward, the feel of his calloused palms teasing her nipples caused her eyes to roll into the back of her head. 

Billy reached his hands down, shimmying his sweatpants and underwear down far enough so his cock sprang up between them, her mouth watering at how thick it was. Stroking her center through her panties with two fingers he cocked an eyebrow at her, "I can't exactly fuck you through these so they'll have to go. I don't care how sexy they are."

Laughing, she stood up on the couch, resting one hand on the wall as she shimmied the panties down her legs, kneeling back over Billy's exposed length when Billy stopped her, "Wait, hold on a second baby." He teased one finger, then another into her dripping core, pumping in and out slowly as she rocked her hips forward trying to get more of him into her. 

Billy slowly dragged them out, popping his fingers into his mouth and holding eye contact with (Y/N) as he sucked his fingers clean, relishing the sweet taste of her, "Okay, baby. I think you're wet enough." 

"Damn right I am." She murmured as she sank down onto his hard cock, taking his full length, resting her hands on Billy's strong chest pushing her tits together in the most delicious way Billy had ever seen. His hands found purchase on her hips as she started rocking back and forth, working his length. Feeling his cock stretching her walls in the most amazing way, she tilted her pelvis in that way she knew would have his cock nudging her g-spot, getting her closer to where she wanted to be, which was total ecstasy with Billy. 

Billy's eyes screwed closed as she found her rhythm and worked his cock, trying to reach her orgasm. His whole body felt like an exposed fuse, bursting with energy and if she touched him in the right way he would combust. 

"Billy, please, rub my clit..." she panted as she rocked her hips faster, Billy could feel her walls clenching as she went faster and he reached down, rubbing the sensitive nub with his calloused fingers, causing her eyes to roll into the back of her head as she chased her high, "Is that what you want baby? Yeah? You wanna come all over this cock?" Billy mumbled as she stared up at the angel fucking herself over on his cock. He almost came seeing how blissed out she was but then he rubbed a little harder on her clit and it pushed her right over the edge. She came with a strangled cry of "Billy!" and her walls clamped down as she fell forward into his chest.

"There's a girl, such a good girl. My best girl. My only girl. Oh my love, taking me so well..." Billy mumbled as he stroked her hair, "Now, let me take over." She nodded as Billy grasped her hips and started slamming his hips against hers, causing her to moan out, feeling her pussy tighten again as he brought a hand down to her ass, the sound of the sharp slap reverberating through her apartment.

Distantly, in the back of her mind, she wondered if this was good for him in his current injured state but being so close to a second orgasm left her with one thought but to cum around his cock again. 

Finding a rhythm, their hips met as she pressed her lips to his, catching his moans and hoping to mute her own as they fucked each other into oblivion. All too soon, she felt the familiar catch in her stomach as her second orgasm came around, "Billy..I..I'm so close."

"I know darling, me too. Can you wait? Can you cum with me? Please baby." She nodded as Billy fucked her harder, she rocked her hips faster and then suddenly, Billy let loose a string of expletives and she chanted billy billy billy oh god over and over again like a prayer as she felt him fill her pussy with his warm cum. 

After a few minutes, she pulled away from his sweaty chest, pushing her hair behind her ears as she grinned down at him. Grinning back up at her, he tickled her waist, "Normally I can last longer but that sex has been building up for several months."

Throwing her head back she let out a laugh, "Don't worry. I don't plan on stopping having sex with you anytime soon. We have all the time in the world to build up a tolerance to each other." 

A dark look washed over Billy's face as he contemplated how little time they had but instead of answering, he pulled her down into another kiss, "Let's just focus on today, love."

~~~

They spent the rest of the day entwined on the couch, mixing it up between lazy make out sessions, sex and her standing up to get the door when the delivery person rang the door to drop off food and beer. 

She had asked if Billy wanted her to text Mark and Jean but he just told her he would deal with it soon. So she didn't push it. She knew she was being selfish but she wanted to keep living in this world that consisted of her, Billy and the pizza they ordered alive for as long as she could.

Unfortunately, it ended all too soon as all good things are wont to do. Soon enough, Billy was pulling on his shoes, as it grew dark out, she had been getting comfortable when he knelt down next to the bed. "Listen, love. I need to drop off something to Mark and Jean. Don't wait up for me." He leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead as she lifted her head up to meet him halfway. 

"It's late babe, are you sure they'll still be up?" He fixed her with an incredulous look, "It's Mark and Jean. Of course they're still awake." She shrugged as she considered who they were talking about and conceded defeat. "Just come back to me in one piece okay? If you want," she hastily added as she realized he may want to go back to his own home "It's an open invitation. I'm sure you want to go home." 

He smiled at her with melancholy in his eyes as he pressed a kiss to one cheek, "With you?" then a second kiss to her other cheek "I'm always home" Biting her lip to contain the smile threatening to break her face in two, Billy decided he had never seen a more beautiful woman and wanted to alway think of her like this. 

~~~

She woke the next morning to 25 missed calls from Mark and 33 from Jean. Blearily, she called Mark. Once he picked up and started rambling, she hung up and stared straight up at the ceiling. 

It wasn't until Mark came to get her after not hearing from her for hours did she register how damp her cheeks had become. She was numb. Time didn't mean anything, nothing meant anything anymore. 

Billy was dead. 

He had broken his promise. 

~~~

Standing at the edge of a gaping hole in the world, she contemplated throwing herself into it along with the empty casket they'd be burying. She barely registered the low rumbles of a priest talking but not really hearing anything. Billy had gone to Mark and Jean, told them he needed to run a quick errand and gone back to the hotel they had just robbed from. He had been running along the roof, where it overlooked the rocky ledge of the ocean. He had jumped, thinking there was a platform there but there hadn't been. There was Billy, the air and the jagged rocks along the coast the only thing to greet him.  

The coast guard searched for hours but had found no body. Just the black rubber bracelet he always wore around his wrist. 

Twirling the bracelet between her fingers now, she decided that since the casket was empty, there was no point.

She had been numb since she got the news. Not moving from her couch unless Mark or Jean came to propel her into the shower, make her eat some food. but she really didn't see a point in doing anything anymore.

He had promised. 

And now he was gone. So what did it matter what she did? People left, they broke promises, and words and promises didn't mean anything to anyone she guessed. She may as well do anything she wanted.

Lifting her head she saw Mark, Jean and two women who had introduced themselves as Billy's mother and sister. Mark had introduced her as Billy's girlfriend and they murmured how much Billy talked about her but it was all too little too late. 

She didn't want to know anyone else other than Billy but that had been ripped from her. Standing at the edge of his grave she felt Mark and Jean grasping her shoulders, telling her they were going to give her some space. So it was just the three of them and as his sister looked at her, she smiled a thin smile, "You're just as pretty as he said you were." 

She fell to her knees. It was all too much, She couldn't support herself without Billy. What did it matter? All her skills, all her knowledge about keeping people safe when she couldn't even save the person that mattered most.

~~~

"Oof, there are three certified hotties just weeping over your grave dude. How doe that feel?"

Billy's stomach clenched as he saw (Y/N) fall to her knees at his grave, watching his mother and sister race around to help her. It wasn't until One clapped a hand on his shoulder did he register that he had involuntarily moved forward to help her. 

"Nuh-uh bro. Not anymore. Don't even think about doing a Christmas Carol Ghosts of Christmas Past bullshit. I spent way too much money for you to blow this whole operation."

Billy nodded mutely. Keeping an eye on the women around his grave he swallowed around the lump that had been stuck in his throat since he had left (Y/N)'s apartment.

What One had suggested to him had been too good to pass up. And when One had promised, in writing, that (Y/N) would always be kept safe and comfortable, it was a no brainer. And he knew, in his heart of hearts, that she deserved someone better, more stable than him. Not some Sky Walker who always had his head in the clouds. 

Who one day may not come back to her.

Taking a deep breath he turned his back on the trio that were surrounding his grave. Sending up a prayer, he hoped she would be safe and would get over him soon. Because he knew he would never get over her for the rest of his short, harrowing life. 

[mosaicofdreamsanddragons]

Facing Fears

The chapter two to Born of Denial that just sort of happened. You do have to read the first one to understand what’s going on. It’s here. 

And this chapter is also on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27074746/chapters/66287293

He almost blew their cover right upon coming into existence. It was just a lot. The suddenness of being able to feel heat and taste dirt in the air had made him want to cry out. But no sound came and as he frantically searched his not-memories for a reason he was called up again, he saw the danger such an action could bring. He’d never thought he’d actually be happy for the minute long wait for speech to catch up with him.

With his creator moving into position for the big finish, he got ready for his part. He picked up the staff and briefly considered his options. He needed to get the Bull Demon King’s attention somehow.

His eyes fell upon the rocks surrounding him. And a memory, his own not his creators, slipped in to his mind.

The new weapon had broken. At this point, he’d been actively planning for that to happen. Weapon down: time to give one last half-hearted try and wait for Mr. Tang to pull him out. Mei was down, as usual, but Sandy was still fighting his way through the bull demon minions and wasn’t yet at her side. And…and he wasn’t going to make it.

The bull demon minions are closing in and no one can get over there. Mr. Tang is with him and they’re even further from Mei then Sandy. There’s no one left.

A rock hits the bull demon minion closest to Mei. It stops and turns around. There, silhouetted in the evening sun stands Pigsy, another rock at the ready. The boy doesn’t even notice as Mr. Tang pulls him away. All he can think about was Pigsy and how…

…he looked like such a hero.

Time to be a hero. He grabbed the rock and threw it at the Demon Bull King. And then said, with the first sentence he said since returning, “Yeah! I got more rocks where that one came from!”

He could barely make out the terrified face of Red Son before a massive hand shoved him to the wall, and his entire vision was consumed by one massive purple face. He was pulled closer to stare into the glowing blue eyes – pretty – of the Demon Bull King while he spoke.

“You have been an utter disappoint. I had hopped you would have learned more of the great Sage’s little tricks.”

He didn’t know.

The demon bull king didn’t know.

It was the first day, after their second loss. Mr. Tang collapsed in front of the monitor and replayed their battle from the footage on Mei’s body cameras and other security tapes. He’d watch and replay and watch and replay, analyzing every second. When that was done he’d expanded his search by playing other footage.

“Well?” said Pigsy. “What have you got?”

“Nothing,” said Mr. Tang. “I can’t find the source of the minions, I can’t find where we went wrong, and I can’t find the Demon Bull King. I just…” he let his hands fall from the monitor, “I just don’t know.” Then he shakes himself, sits up, and starts scrutinizing the footage again.

That night, when the boy tried to dream of monkeys and peaches he instead watches his team get consumed one by one by a glowing blue vaguely bull-shaped figure. Its mouth opens and its laugh is the sounds of Mei’s redials and Mr. Tang’s replays.

The boy stared into the eyes of the source of his nightmares, his nightmares not his originals, and realized he was buying every minute of this. Really was only one thing to say to that, “I don’t know what to tell you dude,” he said striking the coolest pose he could muster with only half of his body.

He felt the hand around him constrict. It hurt, but more importantly he realized he might have egged the demon bull king on too much. His original might not be in position yet. “No wait!” he gasped out before he felt himself vanish.

Oh well. His original would have to make do. As he faded into the original’s consciousness he only wished he could see the look on the demon bull king’s face when he realized he was a clone.

…he was spit back out surrounded by dozens of his fellow clones. And yes, there’s the sudden rush that comes with sudden life, but its overwhelmed by adrenaline and the sight before him. Staring up at him and his brothers, glowing blue eyes wide and purple jaw slack, is the Demon Bull King. The boy couldn’t help but grin at the shocked expression on his, his not his creator’s, enemies face.

He felt elated. Like he could do something. And yeah, as a clone born from denial and repressed fear, he couldn’t do much. But there was a reason he hadn’t let Mei change his outfit.

He’d already been cosplaying a hero.

He grabbed his creator’s hands and used his weight to throw him towards the problem. He knew how exhilarating such a feeling could be.

One second he’d been in front of the demon bull minions, the next he was in the air, staring in shock down at Sandy. 

As he arced through the sky all he could think about was how he hadn’t known Sandy could throw him this high or this far. He ended up landing on Mr. Tang but he couldn’t even hear the sarcastic quip as he was shoved into the car, his mind was still filled with the rush of weightlessness and a blue form growing more and more distant.

He bit back the memory of being punted to safety. Instead he focused on the present and the sweet sense of accomplishment that comes from successfully completing a move he’d only seen done to him. He tried to suppress a grin as he let gravity do its work.

It felt good to use that skill for offense.  

He fell down with his brothers in a rush of red hairbands and orange jackets. Left and right they poofed out of existence as they gave their one good hit or got smacked by the Bull Demon King’s flaying hands. Still he presses on, throwing everything he’s got into the fight with the reckless abandon that reminds him so much of Mei

Mei fought like this was the first battle. She laughed and grinned and practically bounced in between her strikes. She’s a green whirlwind. Its captivating to watch, even though he knows how this will end.

A flailing hand catches him and he knows he’s not got much time left. But just as he starts to disappear, he catches sight of a glowing blue canister falling to the ground. And he lets himself vanish with a feeling of deep seated relief.

Mei won’t be dialing the same number over and over

Sandy can make tea without fear of running out of teabags.

Mr. Tang won’t be watching the damage they couldn’t prevent on loop.

Pigsy can go back to his store.

They won.

[iwakurodai]

Clumsy | Stanley Uris

not requested, I’m just procrastinating the 15 books I’ve started and the second part to Angel. That shit is hard my friends. But enjoy this while I’m in the mood. Won’t be very long tbh. It’s mostly dialogue and suspicious Stan.

warnings; cursing, bruises, clumsiness

pairing; Stan x reader, unidentified gender

Slamming his book shut, Stanley rips his binoculars from his bag and raises them to his eyes. Searching for the bird he heard that caused him to freak out. It was a rare one, only seen in winter. Snow was building up around him, he found it hard to find a good place to sit and bird watch. But, he brought a blanket, folded it up, and sat on it to keep his pants from getting dirty and wet. 

“Motherfucker! Stupid fucking snow!” 

Stanley lowers his binoculars watching as the bird flies away at the sound of yelling. He sighs, annoyed. No one can keep quiet for two minutes in this town, it was hard enough being somewhat friends with Richie Tozier. Turning in his seat, Stanley glances around him. He finds a person, bundled up in a thick sweater, leather jacket, a scarf and jeans with the cuffs rolled up. They were hiding their face with their hand. They were walking towards him. 

He was sitting at the only free bench in the park. The others were covered a foot high with snow, it was obvious they were going to take the chance to sit down. Stanley grabs his bag next to him and stuffs his binoculars in it. Gripping his book in his hands, he opens it, hoping that it would help him avoid small talk. 

“Can I sit here?” They ask as they near, dropping their hand from their face. Stan glances up, eyes widening at the sight of a purple and blue bruise adorned around their eye. “Wow, didn’t know my beauty would spark that kind of reaction but seriously man, can I sit? My heads been killing me for the past thirty minutes,” They smirk, rubbing the back of their head. Stan clears his throat, nodding before turning back to his book. 

“You’re Stan Uris, right?” Stan nods again, hoping the kid would just leave him alone so he could go back to finding winter birds. “You’re in my physics class, you’re pretty smart. Greta says that you look at bird to find the perfect ones to kill and use the bones as toothpicks,” They confess. 

Stanley closes his eyes, praying to God that the kid would stop talking about rumors that everyone seems to believe. 

“I never believed ‘em though.” Or maybe not. 

Stan glances over at the kid again, taking note at how they didn’t stray from their stare at the frozen fountain in the middle. 

“Greta also said that Eddie Kaspbrak smokes weed under the football bleachers with Richie Tozier. But, I’ve never seen Eddie near the bleaches when we do that,” They continue. “I think Richie told him to stay away from the field during free period.”

“Why are you talking to me?” Stan couldn’t help it. He had to know why this kid didn’t just go on their merry way. Instead, they just sat down and decided to make conversation with some loner loser with a bird book. This time, the stranger finally looks at them. 

“You seem like you needed a friend. I know your little group of losers disbanded a couple years ago when Bill bolted. Seems like Eddie and Richie stayed together, but you… you became all alone,” They explain. Stan back up slightly, taking a little offense to their words. “I don’t mean that in a bad way. I mean that, it seems like you don’t know where to go from here.”

Stan shuts his book, turning to face them directly. “What do you want? I mean, you can’t just be here cause I looked like I needed a friend. I mean, I don’t even know your name!” Stanley exclaims, brows scrunched to the middle of his face. 

The stranger just smiles. “Damn, didn’t expect Uris to snap back. I guess you are just as sassy as Richie described you,” They chuckle, facing the fountain again. But, Stanley still watches them. “And yes, I did just come over here because you looked lonely. That’s all there is to it. No one put me up to this. It was just me.” Stan scoffs as they speak. “By the way, my name is (y/n).”

(Y/n). He had heard the name before, just not a lot. Oh yes, the one who started a fight with Mrs. Roster because she wasn’t actually teaching. And who picked a fight with Greta Bowie for spreading a rumor about them losing their virginity to a Bowers’ gang member in middle school… in a church. It didn’t happen, and Stan didn’t believe so. No one wanted to get near them let alone have sex with one willingly. 

“Oh.”

“Yea, ‘oh’.” 

“Why have I heard stuff about you but not seen your face?” Stan asks, not wanting to keep in the awkward silence anymore. He was interested now. 

“I don’t know…” They mutter, crossing their arms and leaning on their knees. “Maybe you’re not as observant as you think you are?” They look over at Stan, giving a small smirk before returning their gaze to the white ground. 

Stan’s stare doesn’t waver from their face. He racks his brain, trying to figure out where he has seen them before but he keeps coming up empty. They seemed so familiar, like a memory Stan buried deep and promised to never remember again. 

Stan shakes his head, rubbing his eyes and leaning back on the bench. ‘Forget about it Stanley. It probably wasn’t important anyways.’ His eyes couldn’t help but travel back to them. Another question igniting.  

“You gonna keep staring or ask the questions that’s gnawing at the back of your head?” (Y/n) asks, not moving from their position. Stan sighs, wondering how the hell they knew what he was thinking. 

“How did you get that bruise?” 

“Oh, this one?” They ask, looking straight and tapping their cheek. “I was fighting this kid. He punched me first so... I fought back. You should see him. He’s probably got a broken nose.” They explain, chuckling lightly and shaking their head. Stan’s eyes grow wide and he scoots a bit away from them. (Y/n) glances over to see him clutching his book a bit tighter. (y/n) lets out a laugh. 

“I’m kidding! It’s a joke! Calm down, buddy,” (y/n) holds their hand out. Taking in a deep breath, they open their mouth. “I… ran into a pole.”

It was unexpected. Stan was thinking something completely different. He covers his mouth, a grin peeking from under. They glance over at him, smiling at the red in his cheeks that wasn’t from the cold. 

“Don’t laugh at me! I’m clumsy! Sue me!” Stan lets out a laugh. Covering his face as he tries to get the image of them running straight into a pole out of his head. 

“H-how did you m-manage that?” Stan stutters in between chuckles. (Y/n) shakes their head, a grin on their face. 

“I was running from this store owner. He caught me stealing a bag of dog food that I was going to use to feed the strays that live in my area,” They say. “I look behind me for two seconds and next thing I know—BAM—right in the face!” (Y/n) smacks their hands together to mimic it happening. “The shop owner had stopped running after me, thank god. But, I was still on the ground, dog food on my stomach and a painful bruise on my face.”

“That’s amazing!” Stan laughs, pushing his hands away from his face to glance at them. They were biting their lip to keep from laughing. “Please, tell me this is the first time it’s happened.”

They suck in a breath through their teeth, looking at Stan with a sheepish shrug. “When I tell you I’m clumsy, I mean it.” They say. “I mean I’ve broken my arm from falling down the stairs and shit. Honestly, I need to wear bubble wrap at all times at this point.”

Stan chuckles, a memory lighting up his mind. A distant memory, not too far gone but faded.

“Watch the step--and you missed it.”

“Well i'm sorry, Stan the Man! Maybe you should have helped me down instead of watching from the sidelines? Huh? Then maybe I wouldn’t be on the ground right now!” 

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry--here I’ll help you up.”

“Yea, you better--” 

“--Oof!”

“...”

“...”

“Well… I didn’t think this through.”

“N-No you di-- No you didn’t.”

“Calm down, Bird Boy. You sound like Bill.”

“I-I did-didn’t--te-technically this--this is your fault.”

“Calm down, Stan… just… keep me warm.”

“Wo-wouldn’t we be wa-warmer on the ham-hammock?”

“Shut up and kiss me, Stanley.”

“...”

“Okay, but honestly? I was gonna keep quiet but my arm hurts really fucking bad right now and I think its broken.”

Stan raises a hand slowly to his lips, his heart beating out of his chest and he realizes who’s next to him. Glancing over, he sees (y/n) lightly pressing their fingers on the bruise, wincing every time but still doing it afterward. Stan lets out a small smile, knowing that they were the same as they were back then. 

“Do-do you want some ice for that? My house is like… a block and a half away?” Stan offers, wanting to rekindle the completely forgotten relationship. (y/n) snaps their head to Stan before letting out a lopsided smile. 

“Thought you’d never ask!”

Stan bites his lip, hiding the growing grin forming as he packs his bags and starts to lead the reckless and clumsy teen to his home. (y/n) spends the time walking telling stories about their clumsiness and attempting to balance on the curb but, Stan’s thoughts were on the past they had together, not knowing if they remembered but determined to bring it back. 

[zukofenty]

day 25: mona lisa

➜ Summary: The one where Zuko and Katara make a pact to (fake) rush Asian Greek life because they were giving out free tacos.

“Whoever becomes an official sorority sister or frat brother wins!”

“Can the prize be health insurance?” Zuko doesn’t have the energy to muster his patented glare.

➜ Genre: Modern!AU, humor, FratBrother!Zuko, SororityGirl!Katara, scamming, dildo stealing 

➜ Words: 6.6k

➜ Warnings: they stay in an airbnb instead of a hotel bc who has the schmoney for a hotel room😩

AO3, @zutaramonth hi!!!

Zuko’s grabbing at Katara’s arm while she’s carefully sipping water (only water, she swears) out of a red solo cup. She’s in her “whore fit” (her words) with larger than life fake eyelashes that could propel her into the sky a la Icarus if she blinked a little too quickly. She was in the middle of readjusting her crop top for the umpteenth time that night, because of course she forgets her strapless bra chicken cutlet contraption at home, so of course she does the most reasonable thing and takes a regular bra and just tucks the straps in. Because as much as she is a proponent of #freethenipple, her nipples could probably slice open a radiator with how fucking cold Ba Sing Se was. 

 “Please take this shot for me,” Zuko reasons with her, trying to make it seem as though he was handing off a shot to a clueless lightweight sorority rushee he was hoping to nail later in the night. For reputation’s sake, Zuko could not afford to fuck up tonight. He was in too deep. “Please, my Pepsin hasn’t kicked in yet. Asian glow is not the look we’re going for tonight.”

 “I hate you.” Katara munches on her (free) taco, and effortlessly throws back the shot: no chase. Zuko looks back and sees active members of Pi Alpha Psi giving him a thumbs up, hooting, hollering, being dumb. One salaciously thrusts his hips to the beat of “Big Bank,” pathetically hoping he could emulate YG in support of Zuko supposedly getting some Deltas pussy. 

 Asian Greek life was fucking stupid. 

 Tonight was the night of the Deltas Sorority and Pi Alpha Psi Fraternity rush party, the most important party so far during rush week. Because Greek life was entirely stupid , of course they had to hold the fucking party on a Tuesday night, when Zuko had an econ pratice set to get done by midnight, and Katara needed to get to Ochem at 8am the next morning. It was their fault, really. A punishment from God herself (Rihanna) for trying to scam the Greek system. 

 It all started because Zuko and Katara had no fucking friends. 

 Besides each other, but that was also up for debate most days. Especially the days when Zuko would remind Katara whenever her foundation didn’t blend down her neck. He always thought he was being helpful. Katara’s long given up the urge to slit his throat. 

 After high school, when you still believed you were going to do something with your life and be important and make a difference and didn’t know about income tax, they had kept the dream of Ba Sing Se University alive while they attended community college. Uncle Iroh and Hakoda weren’t exactly rolling in tuition money, and financial aid was a stingy bitch. While Zuko had considered reaching out to his estranged father, the owner of a multi billion dollar pyramid scheme, he suddenly remembers the time his dad tried to burn his face off after a particularly heated episode of Maury , and then books another therapy appointment. 

 It was the top university in the nation, promising a gateway to accounting jobs and selling your soul to work for immoral tech companies to pay off your student loans in a timely manner. They had prayed for the day they could call the school home. The day they could leave their small town and finally make it in life. Katara and Zuko were inseparable growing up, even if at the surface they bumped heads. They were at each other’s throats whenever the going got tough, slinging petty insults at each other. 

 “I told you this was a bad idea. They don’t have fucking non-dairy options. Wait until my anus starts beatboxing in the bathroom in 20 minutes. Then you will see,” Zuko grumbled. Katara was always doing this, dragging their group of friends to “fun” places whenever Yelp sends her a notification a new restaurant opened up in their shithole of a town. It’s always some boba shop that was secretly a front for a Scientology cult’s money laundering scheme. 

 But Katara’s the only one who is able to scare Zuko (dairy induced) shitless. She’s always able to send him a glare that screams don’t you dare fuck with me, I know you masturbate to Hatsune Miku moan compilations. And he instantly starts sweating .

 At the same time, she was the only one to truly get him. Even if their friends were perfectly content to stay in their town, doing the same things, being the same people, Katara and Zuko always knew there was so much more out there. So much more to the world than what they had grown up in. So they kept the dream alive. Even if their friends had rightfully doubted them. No one made it out of their town. You find a partner from the same people you grew up with, have kids you grow to hate, hide your husband’s infidelity, and either choose from two options. Grow old with him and resent him and then have a kid to try to save the marriage. Or, go Gone Girl on his ass. 

 “Women really need to go back to poisoning their men. Like the good old days,” Katara’s eyes were narrowed into slits as she focused on taking clandestine photos of Mrs. Kim’s cheating, rat-faced husband. For a few months, she was under the tutelage of the town’s private investigator, June. It paid well, and she felt she was contributing to the feminist movement at the same time. 

 “Uh-huh, right,” Zuko eyed her warily. Dubbed lovingly “Katara’s Uber Driver,” he also got paid by June to drive the Nyla Mobile around during their late night ops. 

 He couldn’t wait to leave this shit fuck of a town. 

 While their friends and family were tearfully embracing them on their final days at home, a patented group hug forced upon them, they shared a secret smile. Their dream was coming true. They were going to a school in the city with minimized debt. Plus, though neither of them would ever admit it, they also had each other to rely on.

 //

 “What the fuck do you need? I swear to Rihanna, you only text me when I’m trying to masturbate. Please, make other friends,” Katara nearly screams into the phone. Her roommate, Suki, groans at the volume coming from Katara’s side of the room, but doesn’t get up. Her stomach is still sensitive from the Blue Razz Four Loko she downed at some frat house Katara had to drag her back from. 

 Zuko had the decency to sound sheepish. “What are you doing tomorrow?” 

 “I hope you understand, I am too tense right now to pretend I like you. Go. Make. Friends.” 

 Because Zuko is a fucking child , he starts groaning and Katara could hear him petulantly slamming his Amazon memory foam mattress with his fist. He’ll get angry that the mattress is preventing any real satisfaction from hitting it, and then hit it a few (approximately 3) more times. She hears the pounds, and smirks. She doesn’t know whether or not to feel disturbed that she knows him so well. 

 “I miss you,” he whines.  

 “I don’t.” 

 Zuko gasps dramatically. “How could you say that? Sandbox love never dies!” He wants to yell into the darkness of his room when she hangs up on him. It was valid, of course. But that doesn’t mean his feelings can’t hurt. He’s always sensitive during the Mercury Retrograde. 

 Being a transfer student is hard, as much as he hates to admit it. There’s only two years to pad your resume and make lifelong friends and learn how much cocaine is too much cocaine for your body. College was hard. While Katara’s roommate was able to introduce her to people and Katara made a group of friends almost instantly, Zuko wasn’t nearly as pleasant to be around. It wasn’t his fault he was nervous . When he’s nervous he looks more mean than usual, and his roommate, Jet, was wary around him since the day he moved in. He couldn’t even be mad when he spotted Jet hiding his box cutter’s accessibility. 

 “Katara!” Zuko rolls his eyes at her lack of response. “Katara!” He repeats. “I know you’re just listening to “Like a G6” on a 10 hour loop. Don’t pretend to look so concentrated.” 

 She glares at him. “Let me have this one thing to myself.��� She still begrudgingly takes out her airpods.

 “No.” 

 Katara wants to throttle his long ass neck. “Zuko, be honest with me.” 

 “Ok, yes! When you put your hair in a ponytail you look like a cage free egg.” Zuko stares at her in confusion when she starts playing with her hair. “What are you doing?” 

 “I’m trying to hand over my wig. You fucking scalped me, and I had nothing to say back. Just take it. You deserve it.” He smacks her hands from messing with her hair. Other patrons in the cafe near campus glanced over in amusement, as Katara pokes him in the neck and he yelps. 

 While he rubs at his neck to lessen the sting from Katara’s acrylics, she worries at her lip. “Be honest. Do you think Suki hates me?” 

 “Yes.” 

 Katara slams a hand on the table, causing his croissant to quake in fear. “You’re supposed to be comforting and trying to console me! Do it over, say no.” 

 “No.” 

 “Zuko, do you know how close I am to biting your nipple right off?” 

 He rolls his eyes. Katara specialized in empty threats (most of the time). “Don’t get mad at me just because Suki refuses to talk to you.” He relishes in her frustration. “Again, whose fault is it that Suki has to go to court for reckless driving?”

 “She was the one at the wheel!” Katara throws her hands to the air, before petulantly slapping them into her thighs, for emphasis of her point.

 Zuko pinches his nose bridge. “Well, you were the one who convinced her that she shit herself!” 

 Katara takes a neat, clean sip from her iced coffee before calmly responding. “She was the one doing 88 in a 65 trying to get to the bathroom. How was I supposed to know she did anal the day before and it was just cum!” 

 Zuko smacks his forehead in frustration after seeing identical blushes on the sea of patrons, now very much intune with the turn of the conversation. “You really don’t know how to act in public, do you? Like you think all the shit coming out of your mouth is important enough for it to just be said. You couldn’t have let that be a passing thought? Or learn how to fucking whisper?” 

 Katara sighs, closing her eyes and folding her hands over each other, because she’s dramatic. “All I had today for lunch was lip gloss. Let me be.” 

 “Again, if you, I don’t know, learned how to apologize to someone and admit you’re wrong then maybe Suki wouldn’t have hidden all your stress snacks. And, I don’t know. Maybe if you knew how to say ‘sorry’ she wouldn’t hate your fucking guts.” Katara simply turns her head into the air at Zuko’s words, refusing to acknowledge them. He’s itching to take a hit of his Phix with how on edge he was, and then remembers Katara had sold it on the school Facebook sell and exchange page as revenge. Apparently, Katara snaps if you send her one too many Tom Holland and Nicki Minaj fanfiction stories. Not that he’s speaking from personal experience. “You know what, you’re almost as stubborn as Wendy Williams when she refuses to pronounce Dua Lipa’s name correctly.” 

 She petulantly swivels her gaze to Zuko, nose still pointed to the sky. “Dula Peep is iconic for that reason.” She breathes out, letting her body go lax. “Please, shut the fuck up. I’m sad. Why would she leave me alone in the middle of the Mercury Retrograde like this? I didn’t think she hated me that much.” She drops her defensive stance, and rolls her shoulders, eyes focused only on the table. “I thought, what we had. It was real friendship you know? I made a joint for her using the orientation leader recruitment flyers because we were out of rolling papers. That’s true love. That’s sisterhood.” 

 //

 “Please, I can’t poop right now! I can’t poop when I’m scared. I’m poop shy!” 

 Zuko audibly groaned. “Then why the fuck would you take a shit at my apartment? Yours is literally a 4 minute walk away, according to motherfucking Google Maps. 5 minutes if you use Apple Maps.” 

 “I don’t know, ok! I saw the baby wipes and I just kinda went with the flow, sue me!” Damnit, she knew she tasted real milk in her strawberry banana smoothie. God, the price of being ethnic in this dairy filled world. 

 “I called you over here to explain the plan! So I don’t bother you mid masturbation! And you just had to take a dump, didn’t you? On the plan, and my fucking toilet, too!” 

 She was weary after her back to back classes from 9-5 when Zuko excitedly called her up to come to his place. As much of a bitch baby Zuko could be, Katara tries to visit his place as much as she can. His apartment was just upgraded, meaning he had a state of the art microwave. One that doesn’t third degree burn her ham and cheese Hot Pockets, but rather cooks them perfectly to the tune of the package instructions, and makes them all fluffy and culinary excellence. Plus, he lives further from the heroin infested park she lived right next to, meaning his building smelt like a Clinique cosmetics counter (or: old lady) rather than pure urine like hers. And he didn’t have to run home in fear of being chased. 

 Besides, he’s all she’s got right now. He explained his plan as the roof of her mouth is assaulted by the gooey cheese of the Hot Pocket. Zuko eagerly handed over the flyers that were shoved into his hands as he was walking to campus. 

 “Do you see the funds these bitches got? We have to go! We need to become part of Asian Greek life!” 

 Although Katara did enjoy seeing the copious amount of free food potential, she was skeptical. “This is all free?” 

 “Yes, oh my god! Read the damn flyer! They’re living it up while we try to fit spinach in our budget to buy White Claw. Free alc, and free tacos! C’mon, we don’t even have to get into the sorority or frat. Just go through the rush process, and try to get as much free food as possible.” Zuko sits on his bed beside her, and even shakes her by the shoulders for emphasis. She swats his hands away while he chuckles.

 Katara side eyes him. “Aren’t you already behind on your lectures? I don’t know, do we really want to waste time doing this?”

 Zuko sends her a sheepish smile, but grabs her hand. For reassurance purposes, of course. “It’s just one week. Let’s just let loose. Maybe we could walk away from this with a few friends. So I don’t bother you mid beating your meat.” Katara can’t help but laugh. 

 On the first night, she was nervous. Zuko was clearly his indifferent self, but deep down she knew he was scared, too. Katara and Zuko weren’t exactly Greek life material . 

 “They thought you were hot, that’s why they flyered you!” Katara yelps while digging through his closet. Zuko ignores the blush growing on his face. “Let’s find a fit that emphasizes that bad boy aesthetic.” 

Katara never did anything half assed. That’s why if they were going to play hot, ignorant Asian Greek lifers, they were going to be the goddamn best. Academy Award nominated and then played by Scarlett Johansson in a biopic type of acting. 

 “What’s wrong with what I usually wear? Is the leather jacket not, quote unquote, bad boy enough?” Zuko runs his hands through his shaggy hair, which Katara had encouraged him to not style. She’d never admit it, but maybe her sexual awakening coincided with Zuko growing his hair out. Maybe. 

 “Yeah, yeah. Maybe to Tumblr , but not for fuckboys.” She groans because of course Zuko has good fashion taste. Maybe him being hot helps with how clothes looked, but they all screamed fashion and not basic fuckboy . Which was the vibe of the night. “God, do you have the entire Forever 21 Black t shirt aisle in here?” 

 Before he could retort, Zuko’s interrupted by Jet coming into their room to grab his dumb Hydroflask. It’s dumb because it’s so goddamn big, for no good reason. 

 “Hey, Katara,” Jet is smirking. Ew . 

 Zuko feels jealousy, the type that makes your body grow all hot and makes you want to punch a mattress and Jet’s pleasantly symmetrical face. God, why is he so fucking pretty? He reminds himself that Katara was entirely off limits , and schools his face. He gets these types of pangs of envy once in a while, usually during the Mercury Retrograde. Ever since they were kids, he knew Katara was going to be in his life forever. He wasn’t about to fuck that up. Not with emotions or anything. 

 “Hey, Jet!” Katara chirps. She couldn’t help it, her pussy is weak for pretty men. She knew that look on his face. The eyes that roamed her body clad in the tight top and jeans that made sure her ass looked like she paid for it. Thank you, Fashionnova. 

 He gives her a hot guy half hug, and she’s melting. Calm down, girl Katara warns her pussy. “See you around. Zuko, I’m going to Target, do you need anything?”

 Zuko frowns at the sight of a fangirling Katara. “Nope.” Jet nods, and even offers up a smile. He hates that he smiles back. 

 Katara swoons. She flops on Zuko’s bed, eyes all dreamy and starry. “That’s the vibe you need to give off!” 

 “What, that I have HPV?” 

 “Exactly! See, that’s the type of fuckboy you need to be. You can have the same pussy clenching effect with the right, basic clothes. You’re hot, and you have a badass scar. You just need a striped Guess shirt and white Nike Air Force 1s to complete the getup.” 

 So, Zuko digs through his closet from his hypebeast phase to find a pair of white sneakers (“Reeboks aren’t basic enough!” Katara protests) and borrows the Guess shirt from Katara, and they were ready to scam.

 Fuck. The damn tacos. And then it was all you can eat Korean food. Then it was free avant garde ice cream at that one place that cost you an ovary to even sample the vanilla bean flavor. 

 The first night of rushing, all you can eat Korean food, and they were already putting on the pounds. 

 “ Holy fucking cheese dick! I think I gained the weight of a Kardashian ass filler in just today alone! I can’t breathe. Zuko, hold up.” She puts her hand out, halting their walk back to her place. “I need to unbutton my pants.” She had one too many plates of kimchi spam fried rice.

 Zuko burps graciously. Goddamn kimbap. He swallowed that shit whole, choking a few times throughout the night. “Me fucking too! Oh my god, I can’t breathe.” 

 “In through your nose. Out with your dairy shits.” 

 As soon as they got back to her apartment, they immediately reached for Lactaid, and then went over the events of the night. 

 “What do you think of Ty Lee? All the guys were drooling over her,” Zuko asks. Katara ditched her elaborate makeup, scrubbing her face clean and was in one of Zuko’s t shirts he’s long given up trying to get back from her. She’s twirling an expensive mechanical pencil between her fingers, the kind that has super precise lead and matches her pencil case and laptop. For the aesthetic. 

 “She’s the type of bitch to eat salt and vinegar chips at 9 in the morning.” 

 “What’s the difference between girls who eat salt and vinegar chips in the morning, and girls who eat Hot Cheetos in the morning?” Zuko’s scratching at his head, brain still foggy from all the Doritos he’s practically inhaled. He’s topless, and has one of the many sweats he leaves behind at Katara’s because their sleepovers were some of his favorite memories growing up. Even if they have to squeeze Zuko’s six foot tall ass in twin beds now. 

 “One has class. The other needs therapy.” 

 He squints from his spot at her desk, typing interrupted to push up his round glasses. “I see.” 

 “I saw you really hit it off with Mai,” Katara made sure to keep her voice even. “She was really into you.” 

 Zuko whips his head around to her. “Really?” He yelps. “Stay out of my business!” Katara throws her hands up in mock surrender. “...Did she say anything about me?” 

 “She said she was so tired of medium ugly frat brothers and that you showing up sent her cooch into anaphylactic shock,” Katara deadpans.

 “Really!” Zuko’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. 

 “No, she just said you were handsome. And then I told her ‘don't call him handsome unless he's about to hand some money over,’ and then she laughed and then thirst followed you on Instagram.” 

 Zuko scrambles to check his phone. “Oh my god, she’s so cute,” he whispers, eyes enraptured by her Instagram feed. Katara rolls her eyes when he jumps into her bed, knocking her work aside to shove his greasy iPhone 6s in her face. 

 Katara slaps it right out of his hand. “Ugh, not the 6s.” 

 Zuko practically melts. “You said she thinks I’m hot, right?” Katara pokes at a man tit before curling up at his side. 

 “You’re annoying.” 

 Zuko grabs Katara's hand, playing with the tiny fingers. “I’m adorable.” 

 She snorts. “You know, we should make a pact. If we’re getting this invested into the whole process. Whoever becomes an official sorority sister or frat brother wins!”  

 “Can the prize be health insurance?��� Zuko doesn’t have the energy to muster his patented glare with Katara cozied up next to him. 

 //

 The second night, ice cream night, and Katara was slipping. 

 “What do you usually look for in a guy?” 

 “I usually just look away,” Katara admits, shrugging. She doesn’t forget to plaster a well practiced, non threatening smile on her face. 

 “Preferred places for guys to cum?” Another sorority girl asks. Other rushees are nodding enthusiastically, carefully preparing their answers. 

 “To his senses,” Katara huffs. 

 “I usually like a backshot!” Ty Lee says enthusiastically, despite the other sisters eyeing Katara warily. Ty Lee insisted that Katara would be a good fit for the sorority. She looked like the only one on her side.

 While the girls were excitedly dancing along to the music playing in the shop, Katara’s eye twitches. It was the feminist in her. “If you still like Chris Brown, you’re ugly,” Katara is adamant, not relenting despite the incredulous, wide eye stares from the gaggle of sorority girls. 

 “Well, I guess I’m ugly then!” Mai yelps, hands crossed over her chest defiantly. 

 Katara smiles carefully. “You sure are, bitch!” 

 Fuck Katara was messing this up. She needed to make sure that they were convinced Katara was sorority girl material to move onto the next level of the secret invite only event. Fuck, fuck, fuck . 

 She wasn’t about to let Zuko win at anything!

 Mai squints at her. “Are you a clit being handled by a frat brother? Because you’re really rubbing me the wrong way.”

 Ty Lee gasps. “Please excuse her, Indica makes her grumpy.” 

 Katara glares. “None taken.” 

 She likes Ty Lee, that much she’s gathered. And, it seems as though Ty Lee had grown to like her back, making sure Katara gets enough ice cream throughout the night, even turning her head when Katara pulls out a Tupperware from her backpack to bring back the dessert to her apartment. 

 That was until Ty Lee remembered she had a flask hidden up her skirt, a necessity post fuckboy cheats on you .  “I-I just called to say I don’t miss you! And that your dick smells like a stapler that has been microwaved for 25 seconds. Like, you can block me all you want. But you can’t uneat this ass. Sorry, I don’t make the rules!” Katara does damage control, and dutifully snatches the phone from her hands.

 Crossing her arms like a mother disciplining her child, she levels Ty Lee with a concerned look. “What the actual fuck do you think you’re doing?” 

 Ty Lee gets up and stumbles on her way to hug Katara. “I can’t leave him! I love him so, so much. He’s my fucking ride or die, the Quavo to my Saweetie! The pitchy singing to my Selena Gomez! The Marlene to my Rosa! The badly glued fake eyelashes to my Asian sorority girl,” Ty Lee is crying and loud and her anime like tits are bouncing with every sob that comes. 

 Katara takes the flask of peach vodka from her trembling hands, and shakes the girl. “Look, bitch. You’re better than this.” 

 “No, I’m really not!” 

 Katara pokes the girl in the forehead. “Yes, bitch you definitely are. You’re a bad bitch that got adicktated. But that’s ok.” She tilts the red faced girl’s head back, making sure the cup of water goes down her throat. “So what if you fell in love a little? You’re in your bag bitch, you don’t need provolone smelling dick to dicktate your life!” 

 She rubs at her snot filled nose, and then wipes her fist on her mini skirt. “You really think so?” 

 “Bitch, I know so . Go be a slut, forget about Chan’s ass flake. Now hand over your phone. Drunk yelling over the phone is not the move for the night.” The other active Deltas sisters were running back from a group bathroom visit, after realizing it was Ty Lee’s bad decisions o’ clock . They came back to see the chastised girl determindly eating Ube flavored ice cream, without a phone to do dumb shit in her hands. Mai can’t help but start liking Katara. 

 //

 The third night, and it’s the Deltas Sorority and Pi Alpha Psi Fraternity rush party, the most important party so far during rush week. IT was a slam fucking dunk. They had gotten catering from everybody’s favorite taco place at the Pi Alpha Psi frat house. And a fucking DIY boba bar. A boba bar! A goddamn boba bar. Katara had a ziplock baggie filled with the tapioca pearls in her left jean pocket. 

 All Deltas rushees were meant to be socializing with Pi Alpha Psi brothers. The active sisters were trying to see who were the classy whores in the group. They didn’t want admitted whores, just subtle ones. After fending off another medium ugly brother from trying to stare at her tits, Katara corners Zuko, who hands her another shot to take for him. “Why was that guy dressed like an uninvolved father?” 

 “What’s that supposed to look like?” 

 “Sweaty, and smells vaguely of disappointment.” 

 Zuko coughs. “I’m sad that hit way too close to home.” 

 Katara looks devastated for a split second, until Zuko starts laughing at his own joke. Then, she smacks him upside the head. “You know, you should be thankful for me. I got you looking exactly like a Pi Alpha Psi brother. Even down to the shoes.” Katara glares ahead. “God, I hate that we have to wear shoes on in this house. I hate looking at Haru’s Black Air Force 1s. Anything but those. Anything but those .” 

//

 The fourth night and they had successfully scammed the Greek system. 

 “Zuko!” Katara screams, bursting through his door without preamble. “Look what Ty Lee sent—wait a minute. What the fuck are you doing?” She pauses in shoving the phone in his face to see him face down in his calculus textbook. 

 “I’m trying to find a natural way to stay focused.” 

 Katara crosses her arms. “Have you considered adderall?” 

 Zuko snorts, clearly annoyed. “That’s literally prescription meth.” 

 “And what about it?” She slams her body, face first into his bed. “‘ Hey get ready tomorrow because we have an exclusive, invite only clubbing invite and the girls and I really really want you to come! ’” Katara reads the Instagram message verbatim from her phone, her chest swelling with unbridled pride. “I deserve an Academy Award.” 

 Zuko plops his body right on top of hers, relishing in how she groans under his added weight. “Run me my Golden Globe because according to Chan, my ‘ass better be ready to get nasty at Club Nyla .’” 

 “Shut the booger sugar up!” 

 So (on a Thursday night ) Katara and Zuko crowd in the party bus the generous Asian Greek system had funded in the name of “cultural bonding.” She can barely breathe, tits pushed in the most fuckable way possible, and she feels her face heating from the shots forced down her throat because her (potential) sisters had insisted on heavily pregaming. 

 While the frat brothers were perfectly content to sitting and not making any sort of movement whatsoever in the name of looking cool , the girls on the other hand were having the time of their lives. 

 “Oh my fucking god, for the last time Ty Lee, I cannot join the grind train, I do not have mental stability to keep my balance and shake my ass at the same time,” Katara lightly chastises, shoving the drunk girl gently off of her. Ty Lee simply shrugs, and then continues to gyrate on the gaggle of girls. The music was pounding, everyone was sweating from the amount of unrestrained dancing happening, and Katara’s pretty sure some girl just bruised her pussy after accidentally smacking it (hard) on the bus’s stripper poles. Disco lights bathe the entirety of the vehicle, enveloped in the screams and squeals of Asian girls trying to twerk and scream along to lyrics at the same time. 

 It was pure fucking chaos. But so goddamn fun . The girls kept constantly grabbing her hips in an attempt to yike on her helpless ass, which Katara abruptly stopped by flicking off their hands. All to the tune of “The Box” by Roddy Rich. 

 “Let me hear everyone loud and clear! ‘Fuck 12!’” Katara screams to a crowd of bewildered frat brothers. 

 “Katara, no,” Zuko’s laughing too hard, the alcohol making him feel lightheaded. Heavy rap music permeated the walls of the bus, and he feels a headache building. But he feels a little better seeing Katara having fun, nearly choking to death after taking a hit from some brother’s joint. 

 “Don’t laugh, I don’t smoke that often!” She insists. 

 Zuko throws his arm over her shoulder, pulling her close to him. “If you die, at least it was in a party bus while Travis Scott was playing.” 

 “I’d rather die in an Acura!” Katara yelps, getting up in mock frustration. While Zuko is simply losing his mind at her attitude, she accidentally stumbles as the bus comes to an abrupt stop, and lands in Zuko’s lap. 

 She’s chortling, moving about to get up. Zuko tries his hardest not to let his heart pound impossibly loud. 

 After IDs were checked, and a Drake song was forcibly requested by the obnoxious group of frat brothers, the clubbing event was in full swing. Yet, it paled in comparison to the fun and chaotic energy of the party bus. Frat brothers were attempting to dance, Asian girls were trying their hardest to twerk. 

 Katara is doing her duty as the most sober one out of the bunch and pushes random guys away before they could grab at her sisters’ hips. “You know, God gives flat asses to his strongest soldiers,” she mumbles, lips dangerously close to his ear. They were sitting down in the private seating area near the dance floor, exhausted beyond belief and watching the sorority girls’ attempts at clapping what little cheeks they did have. 

 Ty Lee clumsily grabs at Katara, screaming about having to piss and call her ex. Her cue to save the day. She gives Zuko an apologetic look, and whispers “I’m gonna win” before grabbing Ty Lee’s hand. 

 While he’s checking on his Neko Atsume cats, Chan’s Pepto Bismal smelling self is sidling up to his side. “Bro, you should fuck her. She’s got amazing tits.” 

 Zuko smirks, before schooling his features. That was already an observation he made when he was 16. Nice try, fuckboy. Chan continues, not caring if Zuko responds to him. “Pound that pussy like rent is due tomorrow! You have to get at that big, fat, moose sized pussy at the Airbnb we’re headed to after this.”

  Ty Lee is blubbering, snot running freely down her face as though she was a 5 year old at Chuck E. Cheese realizing they didn’t have enough tickets to afford a beaded necklace. “Every time he goes down on me, it feels like my pussy’s getting colonized. Is that what love is supposed to feel like.” 

 Katara paused in rubbing her back. “Oh my god.” 

 Ty Lee grabs at Katara’s shoulders, toilet and unsteady stomach forgotten. “Please, for the sake of the female population. Fuck Zuko. We need to know if he’s packing that schmeat.”

 Katara gasps. “No fucking way, we’re just friends!” 

 The inebriated girl clutches Katara’s face in between her sweaty palms, lowering her voice in a volume she thinks counted as a whisper. It was more of a scream than anything else. “We always try to get the hottest rushees to fuck each other at the Airbnb. Then, you’ll definitely make it into Deltas. Because if anyone deserves to throw that neck back on Zuko, it’s you.” 

 “Well gee, thanks. I’m touched.” 

 //

 “Moan harder! Don’t sound like I’m forcing you to fuck me! This isn’t no 90 Day Fiance shit! I thought you were an actor. Where is the commitment to the craft? You sound like you’re a dying tractor. Do better!” Katara continues jumping on the bed, trying to emulate a good old fucking. Zuko breathes in, before an unrestrained groan comes from his lips. Katara’s cooch instantly quakes.

 Their shoes were off, at her insistence, sheets already strewn about to make it believable. She could hear the snickering behind the door she’s triple checked to make sure it was locked and unable to be seen through the keyhole, her thong shoved in front of it to ensure their privacy.  

 “Zuko, Zuko, Zuko!” she pants, makine her voice sound as fucked out as possible. “I can’t!” 

 He continues smacking his arm, trying his best to replicate the sound of cheeks being clapped. “Baby, yes you can. You’re taking me like a fucking champ.” 

 Katara almost couldn’t hold back her giggle. This was all so fucking ridiculous. Taken straight out of a Larry smut scene. But they had a job to finish, a lifestyle they needed to live out, a pact to win. She whines, he lets out a moan. They bite their fist before they lost their minds and ruined the scam. She could imagine the title to their terrible porn video: college girl takes BEC (big emo cock). 

 “So, so good!” Katara made sure to make her voice sound as strained as possible, jumping even harder on the mattress. Zuko is ashamed to say his dick twitched in his pants the slightest. “So goddamn big. I feel so full!” 

 “Thanks for thinking I have a big dick,” he mutters, before letting out another wanton cry. 

 “Please be quiet!” Her little faux whimpers are simply killing Zuko, a blush creeping on his neck. He may or may not be jerking off to a sound now burned in his memory. 

 “Ready for the grand finale?” Zuko’s bewildered, pausing in his erratic jumping on the mattress. Katara jumps as hard as she can three times, before landing a punch square into Zuko’s stomach. It’s unexpected, and he doubles over, wheezing and pathetically gasping for air. 

 “Baby, cum in me!” Katara mewls, a devious smile on her face. 

 Zuko frowns, rubbing at his sore stomach. “Really? You’re that invested in this role? You would hurt your bestest friend in this world?” 

 “Shut up! Let me bully you.”

 They leave the room, ensuring their hair looked as disheveled as possible, clothes put on backwards, and Katara’s lip gloss smeared across his face. It tasted like Starbursts and scams. 

 The pair were suddenly enveloped in violent cheers. Muscled frat brothers were taking their beefy arms and slapping Zuko’s chest in celebration. Zuko could see Katara blushing, acting bashful and even tucking a strand of hair behind her ear for emphasis. He rolls his eyes, and deftly decided his heart was indeed forever stolen by the bat shit crazy bitch. 

 “My man!” Chan howls, grabbing Zuko in a signature bro hug. “Any other Deltas you want to raw dog tonight?” 

 Zuko’s gaze was focused on Katara’s smiling face. “This dick belongs to one woman.” 

 //

 They sorority and fraternity wearily climbed back into the party bus in the wee hours of the morning, needing to make the trek back in time for classes. Everyone was to stop by the Psi Alpha Psi house to collect their stuff, and then make their way home. 

 Zuko’s nodding off, too tired to continue breathing when Katara pokes him expertly in the arm. “What?” 

 “We’re going to steal the house trophy when we get back.” 

 He gasps. “Not Beatrice.” 

 “Yes, Beatrice!” 

 “Why do you want a $9 dildo from Amazon anyways?” 

 Katara sighs. “I overheard them this morning. The Deltas and Psi Alpha Psi. They were running through photos of girls and guys that rushed that didn’t make it through the process. And they were so fucking mean , Zuko. Like I almost cried, and they didn’t even roast my ass. Like Co-Star level bullying. They don’t deserve Beatrice. We do.” 

 “So, bet’s off?” He cracks his knuckles in anticipation. She simply nods. 

 //

 “You bitch. You didn’t have to slam me so fucking hard!” Katara reprimands. Zuko silences her with a passionate kiss that has every emotion she could possibly feel tingling throughout her whole body. She’s pushed up against the fireplace, clutching the wall behind her as though finding something to grind her against Zuko’s fiery passion. They were simply mimicking the rest of the group coming back, girls pressed against the frat brothers, trying to make the most of their remaining high instead of heading to class. 

 They pause to take a breath of air, (they could hear Mai mock gagging in the back) before sending each other a secret nod. 

 “You feel that pucker in your asshole? You know shit’s about to get real,” Katara says in a low voice. 

 Zuko’s slamming her against the fireplace once more, this time Katara’s hand now finding contact with Beatrice herself. In a flash she’s shoving the phallic toy in her jacket, sprinting for the door. 

 Chan, eagle eyed as ever, and experienced in the art of recognizing dildo thievery, instantly shoves Ty Lee off his lap. “Don’t you dare take the fucking house trophy, bitch!” He barely finishes his sentence, before he’s shoved to the ground by an enthusiastic Zuko, who grabs Katara’s hand and breaks into a run. 

 They run, run, run until they reach Zuko’s apartment, collapsing on the patch of fake grass at the front of the building. He still has his hand intertwined with hers, her other hand having a vice like grip on the sex toy. 

 “You know what, I don’t care about making other friends. You’re all I need.” 

 “I know.” Katara can’t stop the smile from growing on her face. 

[silvanils]

Stranded

Written for a TES Tuesday prompt given by Alexis in the @nirnwrote​​ discord: Syrus - sand, thunderstorm, sunburn. 

I realized I haven’t written all three siblings interacting yet, and that needed remedied as much as the sunburn one of them has in this fic. <3

For reference, Syrus is about 17-18 during this, and the twins are 12.

Thunder crackled in the distance, making Aril whine and cup his ears while Eira winced and glanced at the sky nervously. Syrus tried to ignore it as he tugged their gear out of their small, capsized fishing boat, which was currently stuck sideways in the sand. They were lucky their stuff hadn’t been washed away by the waves that had stranded them here.

Of course, they would have been even luckier if the twins had listened to Syrus earlier when he’d suggested they go home to avoid the coming storm. “Come on, both of you. We’ll be safer if we find shelter in the cliffs — we can’t even try to head home until this blows over.”

At least they listened this time and followed Syrus as he made his way along the beach. It didn’t take long to find a little shallow cave, where he propped their gear up against a wall. “Now, we just need to find something we can try to make a fire with…”

“Will these do?” Eira asked, holding out some driftwood chunks. “I picked them up while we were walking.”

Despite still being a little mad, Syrus couldn’t hold back a small smile. “You and your sticky fingers… yes, those look dry enough to work.”

“Good thing, too,” Aril piped up, his ears perking up to listen in as the rain outside became a roaring, torrential downpour. “I don’t think anything out there will be dry enough to use for a while.”

Syrus huffed a bit as he dug out a little dip where he soon started setting up the wood to make a fire. The twins settled in nearby — Aril hugging his knees close as he rocked back and forth slowly to soothe himself while Eira started to poke and press at her bare arms and shoulders, wincing each time she touched her own skin.

“Burnt?” Syrus asked, one silver eyebrow going up as he used a little destruction magic to spark a flame. “I told you to put on sun-block ointment — or wear a sleeved shirt.”

“Shut up,” Eira said, her cheeks flushing a darker red. “It’s not that bad.”

“Yes it is,” Aril chided, wincing in empathy as he reached out and delicately put a hand on her shoulder. “Your skin feels like it’s on fire!”

“Ow! Hey, don’t touch it!” She smacked his hand away. “Not unless you’re gonna heal it, anyways!”

“I would,” Aril sighed, tucking his arm back around his legs. “Except I used pretty much all of my energy trying to save the ship earlier. I’m drained.”

“I packed some healing ointments in my bag,” Syrus said, still stoking the fire. “I always make sure I bring some, since you two always seem to attract trouble...” 

Aril got up and scrambled over to the bags before Syrus could stop him, opening one to dumping its contents on the sand as Syrus watched in horror. “No! That was organized!”

“Oops, sorry,” Aril said, grinning sheepishly as he bent over and plucked up a few vials to look at them. Syrus had also neatly labeled everything — which was also a good thing. Aril scrunched his nose up as he shuffled through the vials. “Poison, poison, potent poison…”

Eira gave Syrus a look. “Why bring all those on a fishing trip? You can’t poison fish — well, not if you’re planning to eat it. That’s just dumb.”

“Haha, poison poisson...” Aril mumbled to himself, giggling a little as he set aside some of the vials. Syrus pressed a hand to his face, unable to hold back another groan. “She’s right, though. This is a lot for a fishing trip.”

“I told you, I had that organized — all my best alchemical mixtures are in there. Good and bad. The one you’re looking for will have a blue or green label, Aril. Not red or black.”

“Oh, okay.” Aril set aside several more vials, then grinned as he held up a blue one. “Aha! Mild healing ointment! Or should I use potent…?”

“Mild should do the trick for this,” Syrus said, clapping his hands together as he admired the nice little fire that was finally flickering in front of him. “Potent is for bad wounds. You know — deep cuts, animal bites, that sort of thing.”

Aril nodded, kneeling down next to Eira again as he removed the stopper with his teeth (once again making Syrus grimace and shudder) so he could pour it out and start slathering it over her sunburnt skin. Syrus let them deal with that as he went over to his bag and started organizing the vials in earnest, frowning at how strewn about they were.

So much disorder, caused by one reckless moment. It never mattered how neat and tidy he kept his things — he couldn’t control every factor. Another streak of lightning filled the sky, and all three elves winced as thunder boomed around them. This storm was another great example.

Syrus frowned again as he tucked his potions away in silence. If it had been up to him, he would’ve gone home early and avoided this mess completely. But Aril’s pleading puppy eyes and Eira’s pout had won against his better judgement.

“Fine, fifteen more minutes. Then we go home.”

He had never been able to say no to them, and… they knew he never would.

“Ow! Ah, that stings! Syrus, what did you put in this?”

“Mm? Oh, that’s probably the juniper berry mixture — it’s supposed to give it just a bit of a tingly cooling sensation.” He tugged his journal out to double check his notes as he made his way back to the fire.

“Well, it’s more like a prickly… pricking sensation! Ow!”

Syrus nodded sagely, scratching down a new note next to one of his old ones. “I see… I’ll have to adjust the amounts slightly next time. Less parasol moss, more… garlic, maybe?”

“There’s garlic in this?!” Eira’s voice squeaked in disbelief. “What?”

“Garlic does have a lot of healing properties,” Aril said, slowly, as if not quite sure who he agreed with. “But… it might not be great for skin.”

“You think?!” Eira asked, tears visibly welling up in her eyes before she turned away from the fire, sniffling as she buried her face into her arms.

“Okay, noted. I’ll use something completely different next time. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Eira sighed, scooting away from Aril. “It’ll be better by morning, I’m sure. And if not, Aril might be able to use some restoration magic then instead — right?”

“Yeah, if I can get any sleep tonight,” Aril sighed, cupping his ears as another wave of thunder rolled around them. The rain was still heavy, too. “It’s so loud…”

“I can fix that,” Syrus said, quickly weaving a silencing spell around them. “There. Better?”

“Much,” Aril said, leaning back until he was sprawled on the sandy floor of the cave. He was quiet for a few minutes before he turned his head to face Syrus and smile. “It’s so peaceful… Like we’re not caught in a storm at all. A modified muffle spell, right?”

“Mmhm. Just made it so we can’t hear what’s outside the cave, instead of the other way around. Good catch, Aril.”

“I never would’ve thought to use it like that,” he said, grinning. “You’re so smart, Sy.”

“Bah, you’re just flattering me to get back on my good side. It won’t work.”

Aril sighed rolled over completely, flashing the puppy eyes at Syrus again. Eira, however, just smirked and raised an eyebrow — she was far too clever for her own good.

“It won’t work because you weren’t on my bad side to begin with, Aril. Neither of you was, though… Eira’s really been pushing my boundaries lately.”

“I can’t help it — you make such funny faces when you notice your things are out of place!” She grinned and threw her hands up, then relaxed a bit and shook her head. “I’ll try to do it less often, though, if it really bothers you that much.”

Syrus smiled again as he put his journal away and checked his bag one more time, making sure everything was sorted properly. “If you give me your word on that, I can sweeten the deal,” he offered. “I’ll make some specialty potions, just for you.”

He could tell by the way Eira’s eyes glittered that he had her — hook, line, and sinker. “Really? What kind of potions are we talking about? Could you make me invisible? Or able to carry as much as a horse?”

Syrus laughed aloud at that one, shaking his head. “Maybe… but those sorts of potions need much rarer ingredients. I’d have to… acquire them.”

“Not a problem,” Eira said, giggling. “I have ways. And you have a deal.” She held out her hand, and Syrus smiled as he reached out to shake it.

“Yay, glad you made up,” Aril sighed, glaring at both of them. “Now will you please be quiet? I want to get some rest while this spell lasts.”

“Okay, okay…” Eira sighed, wincing as she curled up under her blanket, her burnt skin clearly still making everything uncomfortable. Syrus leaned up against the wall and closed his eyes, but he only pretended to nod off until he was sure his younger siblings were fast asleep.

Then he opened his eyes again to watch the storm — and make sure his wards stayed up the skies were clear. There was a glimmer of light on the horizon as Syrus finally closed his eyes.

If he was lucky, it would still be a few more hours before he was needed again.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Don’t You Love Me? 25- Coming Back [Steve Rogers x Reader]

A.N.: Final chapter! <3 Thank you so much for your amazing support guys, love you!<3 (Due to the linking issue, you can get the earlier chapters on my masterlist! 😀 )

Characters: Steve Rogers x Reader, Tony Stark x Pepper Potts, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton

Warnings: Drinking, mentions of addiction, self destructive behavior, cussing, explicit language. Read with care please.

Summary: Recovery takes time.

Word Count: 3143

The beautiful moodboard is made by fictionwillneverdie

Gif’s not mine!

Waking up in the hospital after practically exploding a chip in your heart wasn’t as fun as you thought it would be. In all honesty, you had a feeling Steve hadn’t found it fun either, judging by the fact that he had yelled at you for almost half an hour, about how reckless you had been-

And contrary to popular belief, getting yelled at by Steve because you had been reckless didn’t take away the irony of the situation, as Bucky had told him before dragging him out of the hospital room.

Also, it seemed as if the team had made this deal to yell at you in turns, because as soon as Steve was pulled out of the room, Pepper had walked in;

“I’m going to ask your doctor when you can leave this place, so that I’ll know when to smack you in the head.”

“Good thinking, can you tell them to change the jello as well? I don’t like strawberry.”

By the time you were ready to leave the hospital, you had already made your decision and came up with this huge speech but of course, it wasn’t extremely helpful with Steve. You had told him how he couldn’t see you while you were in rehab, and as expected, he had reacted very badly.

“You can’t be there alone!”

“You were the one who found the place Capcake, you know people aren’t alone in there.”  

“Y/N, you just got better-“

“Yeah, it’s either now or never. I already talked to Fury-“

“But I can visit, right?”

“No.”

“Doll-“

“There’s no fucking way you’re seeing me like that, Steve.”

So that meant ninety days without seeing Steve, or anyone on the team. You had to admit, you never thought they’d actually respect your wishes and not show up, but for all you knew, Tony could’ve built a habit of hacking cameras so maybe they had seen you without your knowledge.

You drummed your fingernails on the small coffee table, clicking your tongue before you heard someone pulling the seat across the table, and you looked up to see Jake.

“Holy shit,” he said as he gawked at you, “You’re sober.”

“Yeah man, I’m as shocked as you are.”

Jake covered his mouth, still blinking dumbly, then lowered his hand, “That’s why you have been MIA for the last months?”

“Three months, yeah.”

“How-?”

“Oh long story,” You shook your head, “Um… My ex kidnapped me, basically made me an addict again, then I had uh… I had a heart attack-“

“What?”

“Yeah and I saw the light- of the operation room, and um… then yeah- then rehab. I have been planning it for a while but near death experience sort of… speeds stuff up, who knew?”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Exactly.  That’s why I’ve been away, not because of being a dickhead,” you thought for a moment, “Well half of it. Half of it was still because of me being a dickhead.”

“And I’m guessing that’s the introduction to a speech. Strong start.”

You stifled a laugh, “Straight to it, huh?”

“I’m familiar with stages of recovery, comes with the job.”

“So I don’t need a speech at all then, you got the idea. Good talk.”

He shot you a look, “Y/N. Come on. You spent three months in rehab, start the amends speech.”

“Fuck’s sake- okay,” You cleared your throat, “I um… I put you in danger, even if you didn’t know about it.”

“How?”

“My asshole of an ex, he apparently-“ You pressed your lips together, “He hurt the people I slept with. You got lucky, some of them- not so much.” You mumbled, “I didn’t know though, I swear to you.”

Jake nodded slowly, “When did you leave rehab?”

“Uh- today.”

He gawked at you “I’m sorry?”

You nodded, “You’re the first person I spoke to, I actually-“ You motioned at your duffel bag, “I haven’t had a chance to drop by my apartment yet.”

Jake smiled at the waiter when he approached you and ordered a coffee, while you sipped on your water.

“And you and the national hero?”

You shrugged slightly, “That’s some complicated shit.”

“I still have an hour until my shift.”

You huffed out a breath, looking up at the sky before you cleared your throat,

“I told him he could…do whatever in these three months.” You muttered, “See other people and everything. And if he still- if he still wanted me by the time I left rehab, we’d be together.”

“And?”

“I haven’t seen him yet.”

Jake licked his lips, “Scared of finding him with someone?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” You nodded, “I have this image of him and a chick with a pink frilly skirt from fifties which makes no sense because he was frozen during fifties.”

“You could totally pull off a frilly skirt.”

“You shut your mouth.” You told him, making him chuckle as the waiter brought his coffee.

“No, I-“ Jake eyed you up and down, “Have you checked a mirror since you left rehab?”

“No man, I came here without seeing my reflection because it’s important to avoid self-conceit, what the fuck-“

“No, Y/N-“ Jake chuckled, “You look really different. In a good way.”

You bit down on your lip, trying to control your smile and sipped your water again, while Jake thought for a moment.

“But hey, if you want to shop for a pink frilly skirt, I’m game.”

“Screw you too.”

“No I’m serious, I could give some guy perspective on the matter-“

“Oh I’m so gonna hack you.”

                                        *

You had to admit, maybe Jake was right. Seeing your reflection in the mirror and just how much it had changed kept surprising you, but seeing yourself sober and actually pulled together was definitely a shock you wouldn’t shake off anytime soon.

The dark shadows under your eyes were gone, for starters. Your skin looked much better, and that sickly feeling that tended to show on your face was also gone. Your eyes weren’t red-rimmed anymore, instead you actually looked-

Healthy.

“Well I’ll be damned,” You muttered as you put down the lipstick, and fixed your hair. You felt like a girl on her prom night, only your prom date wasn’t aware that you were back from rehab and could have moved on in these three months-

You shook your head, trying to get rid of the thoughts and left the bathroom, and looked around the apartment. Even if you dreaded seeing the bottles, you knew you had to clean your your fridge eventually, so you figured you could take out the trash on the way out and walked to the fridge then opened it, but then froze.

In the fridge, there were multiple bottles of water instead of booze, and there was a note stuck on one of them. You slowly reached out to take the bottle, your eyes skimming the lines.

Natasha has your keys, she let me borrow them.

Steve.

You could barely feel the tears filling your eyes as you smiled, he had come to clear it for you, while you were away.

For when you’d come back.

Oh God, you were in so much trouble….

You grabbed another bottle before you closed the fridge, then grabbed your backpack and made your way out of the apartment. You got into the first cab that you could find, gave him the address, then bit on your nails, looking out the window.

“And listen, now that we’re talking about it, I don’t want you to feel obliged.”

Steve looked up, frowning deeply “Obliged?”

“Yeah, to wait for me. Even I don’t know how long I’ll be staying in rehab-“

“Y/N-“

“So if someone….like, catches your attention, or your dick’s attention-“

“Y/N.”

“No, I’m not trapping you, okay?”

He gawked at you, “Trapping me?”

“Steve, if you like someone else while I’m gone, go for it-”

“Are you breaking up with me?”

“No, I-“ You closed your eyes, and took a deep breath, “I might be gone for a long time, and it could… it could lead to you realizing things. If you find somebody, I don’t want you to force yourself to wait for me.”

His blue eyes narrowed before he shot you a stubborn look.

“But I am waiting, Y/N. No matter how long it takes.”

Maybe he had done exactly what he said he would.

Or maybe you’d just find him with a girl with frilly skirt.

“Jesus, what is it with me and skirts?” You mumbled before the driver pulled over in front of Steve’s building. You took a deep breath, then paid the driver before you pushed open your car door and stepped outside.

His light was on.

You half wished you had brought a boombox but you were sure he wouldn’t get the joke, so you quickly climbed the stairs, walking past Sharon’s door and stopped at his. Your heart was beating in your throat, but you gripped the strap of your backpack with one hand and knocked on the door with the other.

“Please don’t let there be a chick unless she’s up for a threesome, please don’t let there be a chick unless she’s up for a-“ Your prayer was cut off when the door opened, and you looked up at him.

“Holy shit, you grew a beard?”

He stared at you, as if he couldn’t believe you were actually there, and you cleared your throat, trying to distract yourself from how handsome he was.

“So I would’ve brought wine and condoms but um… you know, the sober thing, so we have water bottles. And- and condoms- am I allowed to joke about alcohol now?” You wondered out loud, “So um… yeah. I’m back. Hi. Nice beard- Jesus Christ Steve, I prepared a speech but my ovaries are screaming right now, that’s a dick move.”

He looked almost frozen, and you shifted your weight.

“Anyway I… okay, here we go, are you ready? So apparently you have lots of time to think in- in rehab, who knew right? And to be honest, somehow all my thoughts kept going to you, and I know I said you could go for it if you found someone but I- I hope you didn’t find someone, because I- I love you.” You paused “Holy fuck, I actually said that. I- I mean apparently I love your beard more, but you know, you can live with-” You were cut off when he pulled you closer to kiss you deeply, making you breathless and you almost stumbled when he pulled back, holding onto his arms.

“Welcome back,” Steve said, making you smile, then pulled you into the apartment and closed the door.

                                    *

You felt like you could actually spend the eternity there, in Steve’s bed, just like that. He dragged his fingertips over your naked back while you rested your head on his chest, deep in thought as the morning light shone into the room.

Peace.

It was actually peaceful.

“How do you feel?” he mumbled to your hair and you looked up at him, heaving a deep sigh.

“Played.”

“What?”

“Sober sex is better than drunk sex, who knew?”

Steve chuckled, “I meant overall, Y/N.”

You took a deep breath, and shifted slightly in his embrace, “The first couple of weeks were bad but then- I’m better now.”

“But do you miss it?”

“Booze?” You shrugged, “One of the things they teach you is that it’s not- it’s not like flu, you know? It doesn’t go away like that, sometimes it takes years, but you have to fight through it.”

Steve nodded slowly, nuzzling to your hair, “I missed you,” he mumbled and you smiled softly,

“So I take it you haven’t been seeing anyone.”

“I told you I wouldn’t, Y/N.”

You swallowed thickly, and tried to play it cool, “Yeah good. I mean there was this really hot doctor back at rehab-“

“Wait, what?”

“But I was never the one for the naughty doctor fantasy- I’m joking!” You let out a laugh, “Oh God Steve, your face…”

“What, I didn’t see you for three months now.” He mumbled, looking down at you, “So what now?”

You took a deep breath, and rolled onto your back before you sat up, pulling your knees up to your chest,

“I’ll go and see Fury, he promised I could go back to my job when I came back.”

“Don’t you think it’ll be a little too much?”

You shook your head, “I can handle it. Besides, I need to keep busy, you know? That’s really important in the whole… after rehab thing.”

“I read that people need stability too,” Steve nodded and you pulled your brows together,

“Wait, you read about rehab?”

“Yeah and- I think we should both go on runs, they say exercise helps.”

“Steve, what-?”

“And I read this website that says learning new things can also help, so I’ll teach you how to draw. It could get your mind off….that.”

You gawked at him,

“You actually made research?”

“I actually have a list,” he reached out to grab a small notebook from the bedside table and handed it to you, but as soon as he did, someone knocked on the door. You took the list from him as he pressed a kiss on your forehead, then grabbed his pants and shirt to put them on before walking to the door. Your eyes skimmed the list, a smile warming your face but you turned your head as soon as you heard Bucky and Natasha’s voices.

“Jesus Christ Rogers, you missed the meeting?”

“Why aren’t you answering your phone, punk?”

“I was uh-“ Steve cleared his throat, “Busy.”

There was a couple of seconds of silence, before you heard Natasha’s voice.

“Whose shirt is that?”

“Hm?”

“The shirt I’m seeing, thrown on the couch. Whose shirt is that?”

Oh shit.

“Steve, I’m going to kick your ass!” Bucky snapped at him, “Y/N is in rehab, and what- you have a girl here?!”

Scratch that, this was gonna be fun.

“What? Buck-“

“I can’t believe you’d do that!”

You laughed to yourself before you grabbed Steve’s shirt to put it on, then silently opened the door.

“After everything she’s been through-“

“Yeah Rogers, what gives?”

“Yeah Rogers, dick move.” You said as you approached the living room, crossing your arms and leaning sideways to the doorframe, “Hi guys.”

Bucky and Natasha fell silent almost immediately before Natasha snapped out of it and rushed to pull you into a hug. You hugged her back tight, then grinned at Bucky as soon as Natasha pulled back,

“Nice to see you guys took over the mission of giving him a hard time while I was gone,” You winked at Natasha and Bucky punched Steve’s arm gently,

“Why didn’t you tell us she was back?”

“I was going to, but…”

“They were occupied, Barnes.”

“Yeah man, catching up,” you wiggled your brows while Steve rubbed the back of his neck, looking elsewhere, “Anyway, none of you dickheads thought of letting me know he was growing a beard? I would’ve escaped from rehab.”

“Exactly why we didn’t tell you.”

“Come on Y/N, tell him he looks like a caveman. I was waiting for you to come back so that you could tell him-”

You shook your head, “No way man, the beard stays.”

“See? She likes it.” Steve shot Bucky a proud look and you turned to Natasha.

“How’s everything at SHIELD? Do I still have a job?”

Natasha scoffed, “Fury fired about ten different people in the last three months. I’d say he’s looking forward to seeing you. That being said-” she turned to Steve, “Everyone is in the tower, including Fury, and we need you there. And her.”

You and Steve exchanged glances and you clicked your tongue, then shrugged,

“Great. I’m gonna go and get dressed then.”

                                        *

“Pepper, you know this sober thing doesn’t change the fact that I need to breathe, right?”

Pepper let out a shaky breath as you patted her back and she pulled back to let you breathe.

“I was so worried, Y/N.”

“Yeah, you made my life a living hell and you weren’t even here,” Tony stated before he pulled you into a hug, making you smile and hug him back.

“You should be used to that by now.” You said as he pulled back, “So, what’s happening?”

Tony stole a glance at Steve over your shoulder,

“It’s about Trent.”

Steve took in a breath, “Tony,”

“I know-“

“No, stop,” You motioned between them, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat, “What about him?”

“They’re putting him on a trial.”

“And?”

“They need evidence.”

“I sent all of you the evidence. All those files-“

“He has some really powerful lawyers so they want a…” Tony cleared his throat, “Why am I always the one who’s giving you guys the bad news?”

“What do they want?”

Tony heaved a sigh “A witness.”

“Tony, she just came back.”

“Listen, I’m not enjoying this more than you do-“

“No, no it’s okay.” You tried to laugh, “If anything, it’s great. One last middle finger and then I can help taking down HYDRA, like-“ you pumped a fist in the air, “Like I know it’s my destiny.”

“Easy there, Hacker Potter.”

“I was actually going for Pokemon, but that also works.” You said, “Hey, uh… ehm, Capslock, can I borrow you for a moment?”

Steve’s head shot up at the safe word, then even if he still wanted to argue, he nodded, “After you.”

You walked out of the room to make your way to the elevator, then pressed the button, and took a deep breath, Steve stealing a look at you as soon as you both walked into the elevator. Both of you were completely silent until you left the elevator and Steve pushed open the door to the roof, letting you walk out before he did. You approached the edge, then crossed your arms and turned to him.

“You know stress causes early aging right?”

Steve scoffed a laugh, “Doll…”

“You don’t want me to go up there, on that witness stand.”

“I just- I don’t want anything to trigger something, okay?”

“That’s not how sobriety works Capsy. I won’t run back to booze the moment I’m stressed, I can’t live my life like that.”

Steve heaved a sigh and you smiled slightly before wrapping your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes to peck him on the lips.

“Hey,”

“Hm?”

“I can handle it.” You said, “I always do, remember? With you.”

Steve brushed your hair off your face, “Okay. Then I’ll be by your side, darling.”

“Deal.” You smiled before you kissed him again, then pulled back, and entwined your fingers with his to pull him to the door.

“Come on then Capcake. Time to bring HYDRA down.”

                                      The End

      Special thanks go to:  @theskytraveler @asongofmarvelanddc @thorohdamnson  @girlwhoisfearless @fictionwillneverdie @aikeji @evanstar @thatprofessionalfangirl @stargeek727 @superwolfchild-fan@marauderskeeper @whogaveuspermission @local-space-ace @marvels-mistress @part-time-patronus  @vikrone @not–even-a-real–fan @bb8falcon @mamaraptor  @propertyofpoeandbucky  @myrabbitholetoneverland @love-for-fanfics @alyssiamarierenee  @kiddikatxd @marvellousrunningbang @kimmiestrawberrykiwi @original-wintersoldier  @supernaturaldean67  @sunnyshoes @wannabebeautyqueenx @justbook-s and lovely anons! Without you, I wouldn’t be able to write this, you’re amazing! <3

[wheretheheckismyjello]

A CEO and His Secretary (Ch. 2)

A/N: Kagehina is my life and I will live and die on this ship.

PART 1 HERE: https://wheretheheckismyjello.tumblr.com/post/186600195334/a-ceo-and-his-secretary

______________________________________________________________

The last thing Tobio remembers is Hinata brazenly calling him an idiot. Before he knows it, he’s filled with rage, chasing after the orange streak down the hallway, and prying the elevator doors open.

The fear is evident in Hinata’s eyes as Tobio reaches out to grab the man’s hair. This probably breaks all protocols of professionalism, but he doesn’t care.

No one had ever called him an idiot before.

Oh, Tobio is sure people have called him an idiot--amongst a host of other names--behind his back. But never to his face. That this young upstart with the cute puppy face had snarled it so viciously shocked him more than if Hinata had stripped naked and started dancing in his office.

Without thinking, he squeezes Hinata’s head and thunders, “What the hell did you say to me, dumbass?”

With a sudden jerk, he is dragged down as Hinata bows deeply with Tobio’s hand still in his hair.

“I am so sorry, Kageyama-san-sama, sir, I wasn’t thinking!” Now that the rage has subsided somewhat, Tobio notices the young man is shaking.

DING!

Tobio quickly turns as the elevator doors open to reveal someone waiting to get on.

“T-tobio?” the person says, taking a couple of steps into the elevator. “What are you doing?”

Tobio recognizes his top agent, Sugawara Koushi, staring. Belatedly, he realizes how odd the scene must look: the CEO of their company, disheveled and breathing hard from exertion, pulling on the hair of a deeply apologetic man.

He pulls his hand away as if the fiery red hair had the heat of an actual fire and grimaces.

“Ah, nothing!” He steps out of the elevator, dragging Hinata along with him.

Feeling the pressure from his head release, Hinata raises his head to see a tall, gray-haired man staring at him with kind and curious eyes. Tobio notices the tell-tale heat of a blush creeping up Hinata’s neck.

“H-hello!” he says, bowing again.

“What’d this poor kid do to you, Tobio?” Koushi asks.

“This...this...dumbass,” Tobio spits out, “called me an idiot.”

He whirls around to glare at Hinata, who squeaks like a panicked mouse. Hinata immediately jumps behind Koushi, like a chick taking shelter under the wing of its mother. Tobio pinches the bridge of his nose. It is probably a good thing he had run into Koushi like this.

TOBU CEO COMMITS HOMICIDE would not have made a great headline in the morning.

“I already said I was sorry!” Hinata grumbled, peeking around the arm of his newfound bodyguard.

Tobio’s eye twitches in anger and he moves to grab Hinata.

“Now, now, Tobio!” Koushi says, stopping his arm. “I’m sure he had a good reason for calling you an idiot. Right, Akage-kun?” He smiles at the red-faced Hinata.

Tobio grits his jaw in anger. Isn’t Koushi his friend? Why is he jumping in to defend this shrimp?

“I do, I do!” Hinata exclaims. He points an accusing finger at Tobio. “This guy made me slave all morning without a single word of thanks and when I called him out on it, he thought I should be the one thanking him!”

“Ahh…” murmurs Koushi, steely gray eyes meeting Tobio’s blue ones. “Well doesn’t that sound like a reasonable explanation, Tobio?”

“Wh-what?” Tobio splutters, shaking with indignant fury. “It is absolutely not! He was being completely disrespectful!”

Koushi rubs his head in thought. “But weren’t you the one who was disrespectful by not thanking him for his hard work?”

Tobio opens his mouth in retort, but again the ding of the elevator interrupts him. A very worried Kiyoko steps out to see their tableau.

_______________________________________________________________

“Shouyo!” Kiyoko exclaims. “What--what happened? What did you do?”

She doesn’t need an explanation to know that Shouyo had done something reckless again and she was going to have to help him worm his way out of it again.

It’s been like that since their high school days, when she had been the manager of the volleyball team and had to physically force Shouyo to stop running laps or spiking drills and get rest before big games.

Not waiting for a response, she turns to bow to Kageyama.

“I am so sorry, Kageyama-san,” she says. “It is completely my fault for not training him more carefully. I will work hard to fix whatever mistakes he may have made.”

Hearing her plea, Shouyo’s defensiveness gives way for a pang of guilt.

Shit. He messed up. Kiyoko stuck her neck out to get him this job and it’s only halfway through his first day before she’s having to apologize for his stupidity.

He pushes his way forward and bows an even deeper bow.

“No, sir!” he says. “Shimizu-san did nothing wrong! It was--I was--”

Here he trails off, not sure how to placate the seething man before him. Ah, he supposes there’s nothing else to do but--

Kageyama starts at the loud smack of Shouyo’s forehead hitting the ground as he kneels in dogeza. “I am sorry for calling you an idiot, Kageyama-sama! Please forgive me!”

In the ensuing awkward silence, Kageyama clears his throat.

“Th-that’s enough,” he murmurs. “Get up.”

Shouyo refuses to move from his spot on the floor.

“Ne, Akage-kun.” The gray-haired man who had protected him earlier nudges him kindly and pulls him to his feet. “Tobio says it’s okay, so it’s okay.”

“Thank you, sir!” Shouyo says, rubbing the now reddened spot on his forehead. That’s probably going to leave a bruise. But, it’s not like he’s a stranger to those.

“Call me Sugawara,” the man says, extending a hand.

“Ah! Hinata.” Shouyo takes the man’s hand gratefully, too nervous to look him in the face.

“C’mon, Tobio,” Sugawara says, dragging Kageyama by his suit jacket. “I was on my way to get you for lunch, anyway, so let’s go.”

“Wait a second!” Kageyama protests, still glaring at Shouyo. “I have to--”

“Now, now,” Sugawara says with a firm and slightly intimidating tone. “You’ll probably feel better after you get some food in you. Later.”

And with that, they are off, leaving a very very relieved Shouyo and Kiyoko in their wake.

___________________________________________________________

Kiyoko gapes at him and if it weren’t for his near-death experience earlier, Shouyo would have found it funny: her mouth opening and closing wordlessly like a stunned fish.

“Y-you called our boss--no--our CEO an idiot?” she finally exclaims. “To his face?”

The two of them sit in the breakroom with their lunches turning cold as Shouyo recited what had occurred in Kageyama’s office.

“Yes,” Shouyo says, “I don’t know...he was so rude and it just slipped out.”

“You, Hinata Shouyo, are the one who is the idiot.”

“I know, I know,” Shouyo groans, putting his head in his hands. “Do you think he’s gonna fire me?”

Kiyoko finally picks up her chopsticks and takes a bite of rice.

“Hmm…” she ponders as she chews, “Hard to say. That seems like an overreaction. It’s not like you did anything to hurt the company.”

“Yeah, but you should have seen his face! It was all GRRRR and BLARGH and I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!”

“That’s just how he looks,” Kiyoko says. “But maybe get him an apology present and lay low for a while.”

“An apology present! Yes, that’s a great idea!” Shouyo taps his palm with a fist. “But...what should I get?”

Kiyoko shrugs. “Maybe a bottle of whiskey? He likes to drink Hibiki.”

Shouyo’s eyes widen in awe at his friend. “Waaah amazing, Kiyoko-sama! How do you know that?”

“Don’t call me that, dummy,” she says, a hint of a smile on her lips. “And it’s my job to know as his secretary. Something you’ll have to know also, amongst many other facts about Kageyama-san. First and foremost being that you do not call him an idiot.”

Shouyo hangs his head in shame. “Noted.”

He brightens up immediately, however, never one to dwell on the past for long.

“I should also get you a thank you present for helping me! And Sugawara-san for protecting me!”

He begins to cheer up as he brainstorms what sorts of gifts to get them, shoveling his lunch messily into his mouth.

____________________________________________________________

“Well I must say. That little Akage-kun has guts,” Koushi chuckles around a mouthful of salad.

“Who is Akage-kun?” Ryuunosuke asks, peering curiously at him.

Tobio spears his steak with venom, imagining a certain redhead’s defiant face in its place.

Koushi had dragged Tobio all the way to the café across the street to join their other friends, Tanaka Ryuunosuke and Nishinoya Yuu, both nurse practitioners at the hospital down the block.

The four of them had known each other since high school, brought together by volleyball and kept together by the affection that can only bloom between people who have suffered the lowest of lows (meals salted by their tears after a particularly heartrending loss) and the highest of highs (piling on top of each other in a screaming, sweaty mess after winning the championship game).

“Weeeelllll…” Koushi says, glancing at Tobio now hacking at his meat. “I don’t actually know. Is he an intern or something, Tobio?”

Tobio doesn’t answer, choosing instead to gnash on his steak with the force of a lion ripping the meat off its prey.

“Anyway, doesn’t matter, “Koushi says. “Apparently he’s someone who called Tobio an idiot today.”

He leans in with a smirk, “To his face.”

Ryuu and Yuu gasp in response, clutching dramatically at their chests.

“Someone called Tobio an idiot?!” Ryuu shouts.

“To his face?!” Yuu adds.

Tobio feels his right eye twitch furiously at the memory.

“Koushi…” he warns.

“So you need us to help bury the body or…?”

“There is no body!” Tobio snaps at Ryuu. “I didn’t do anything to him!”

“Didn’t do anything,” Koushi scoffs, “The poor thing looked frightened to death coming out of the elevator!”

“But why did he call you an idiot, Tobio?” Yuu asks after chomping down his sandwich it what seemed like two bites.

“I--I don’t know! Probably because he’s a dumbass!”

At this, Koushi snorts. Good thing he was around to correct the record. “Apparently, he made Akage-kun work his ass off all day without thanking him. And then when Akage-kun scolded him, he said Akage-kun should be saying thank you to him!”

He shakes his head. “Can you believe this guy?”

“Why should I thank him?” Tobio drops his fork, irritated at his friend’s lack of loyalty. “It’s his job to do what I say.”

“Oh, Tobio,” Yuu says.

“Tobio, Tobio, Tobio,” Ryuu echoes.

The two of them cross their arms and shake their heads in clear disapproval.

“What!”

“You haven’t changed at all have you,” Yuu responds.

“You may be the big boss,” Ryuu adds, “But your whole company is a team. You say ‘Nice receive’ when a teammate gets a good dig don’t you?”

Tobio jerks his head in agreement.

“So you should say ‘Good job’ to someone doing a good job,” Ryuu finishes triumphantly.

“Whoever Akage-kun is, he's right,” Yuu interjects. “You are an idiot.”

“Tch,” Tobio replies. Although now that he’s gotten some food in him, he can see that his friends have a point.

He hadn’t been particularly polite when Hinata was first introduced and he didn’t acknowledge any of the guy’s effort, which, he thinks to himself, had been exuberant with every assigned task.

“Well he could have communicated it like that instead of calling me an idiot,” he mumbles, still determined to come out the victim in this situation.

“That’s probably true. Although I get the feeling Akage-kun is just as hot-headed as you,” Koushi says.

He smacks Tobio on the back.  “Well, when you get back you should talk to him! Apologize. Communicate your feelings.”

Tobio blanches, dreading the thought. The idea of looking at that wide-eyed face grinning smugly as he says “Sorry” is almost enough to make him hurl his steak.

Maybe an earthquake will occur between now and his walk back to his office and the earth will swallow him up and he wouldn’t have to do anything.

"And," he thinks to himself, "I’d be dead, so that stupid dumbass would feel bad that he called me an idiot."

He has no such luck and soon, he’s finding himself going back up in the elevator that had very nearly been the scene of a murder.

______________________________________________________________

A/N: Yes, yes this fic is mostly about my undying love for Kagehina, but you didn’t think I’d leave out the rest of Karasuno, did you? Just like in the manga/anime, they will all get their chance to shine. Unless I give up on this story, which is likely to happen as I am very lazy.

PART 1 HERE: https://wheretheheckismyjello.tumblr.com/post/186600195334/a-ceo-and-his-secretary

[call-me-mister-midnight]

Aiden’s Highway to Hell: Watch Dogs/Hazbin Hotel Crossover

Hey everyone, I’ve started writing my first ever fanfiction and I’ve gotten great reviews over at AO3, so I figured I’d share it with all of you, as well! Not sure if I should post the whole story over time or not, but for now, I’ll leave you the first chapter and link you to the full story on AO3. Be sure to like and review! I’m also open to suggestions if you have any.

Summary: After the events of the first Watch Dogs, Aiden Pearce finds himself on the wrong end of a rescue gone wrong and ends up in Hell. His only ticket out? Through the Happy Hotel, where he must repent for his crimes and give up his vigilante ways for good. Only true remorse and a change of heart will be his saving grace. Sounds simple enough, but when he finds an old enemy and some not so friendly demons along the way, Aiden will learn that the road to redemption is long and difficult. Will Aiden be able to turn himself around and live an honest life? Will he be able to escape hell? Or will he be exterminated? What else is in store for The Fox? Tune in and find out!

Chapter 1: Hellbound

It was a cold February morning in the city of St. Louis; a perfect day to start cleaning up the streets and getting back into the swing of things. 

At least, that’s what Aiden thought as he got in his car and began to head towards Indigo Drive, where his Profiler was informing him of a crime in progress.

‘Another day, another assault…’, thought Aiden as he floored the gas, tearing down the highway. ‘I’ll get this over with and then try out that new diner. Nothing beats a good omelet.’ As he got closer and closer to his destination, a sense of uneasiness began to creep up on the battle-hardened vigilante. Why did he suddenly feel this way? He took down many an armored soldier before this with relative ease. This was going to be no different.

3 miles to the crime scene.

The unsettling feeling only grew worse. Shaking his head in disbelief, Aiden did his best to ignore the fear. Fear is what gets people killed in this line of work. Although he realized the importance of trusting his gut, Aiden knew damn well that he was merely overreacting. Perhaps he could use a vacation, he had endured quite a bit over the past few months. That’s it, the work was just getting to his head. Nothing to be worried about.

1 mile to the crime scene.

Aiden started to have second thoughts about interfering with this one. He couldn’t put a finger on it, but something felt seriously off. ‘No, I must. I can’t stop now, not after everything I’ve sacrificed’ he almost pleaded to himself. ‘I’ll do it, even if it kills me’. The anxiety was starting to peak at this moment; Aiden could swear his hands were starting to sweat. Embarrassing. How could someone who was so used to dropping the hammer on every person who came in between him and his niece’s killers suddenly be so timid? He NEVER had second thoughts before in his entire life. He couldn’t imagine what Jordi would ever say to him if he could read his mind. Thankfully, he never had to find out. All he needed to worry about was incapacitating his target and getting the hell outta Dodge.

“You have arrived.”

The robotic sound of his GPS snapped him out of his thoughts, prompting him to hit the brakes in order to study his surroundings. Under the bridge, perfect. His target wouldn’t even see him coming. As Aiden exited the car and screwed the silencer onto his pistol, he felt a cold chill blow over him. Gotta love that brisk St. Louis weather.

He powered up his Profiler and started searching the docks where the giant blue circle he had come to know and (not) love glowed back at him on the screen. After around 5 minutes of searching, he finally found his target: a tall, slender man in a black hoodie with the hood raised. It didn’t get any easier than this. Aiden hid behind a bridge support, keeping a close but safe distance between him and his potential prey. The man was clearly not in a hurry; he had no idea what was waiting for him just 10 feet away. As Aiden continued to tail the man, he saw it: a woman and child were tied up and were squirming around on the deck of a red and white boat that was sloppily docked about 25 yards away by Aiden’s prediction.

Easy pickings.

Aiden holstered his pistol and prepped his baton. He was gonna make this one hurt. He pulled his mask up and quickly approached the man. With a few well-placed swings and a liver shot for the cherry on top, the man went down onto the muddy grass with a satisfying thud.

‘See? Not even remotely a problem.’, thought Aiden as he ran over to the boat to free the hostages. He couldn’t help but feel proud of himself; not only did he get to save a couple of lives, he also didn’t have to break his back to get the few joys of being The Fox. That was all fine and dandy, up until the part where Aiden realized he made a gigantic tactical error.

“See you in HELL, scumbag!” came the sharp, high pitched voice of a second person that Aiden didn’t even account for. Before he could even turn around to confront the ambusher, it was too late. There was a bang, a flash of blinding white light, so bright that even the blind would have to shield their eyes from it. It was strangely beautiful, not even the slightest bit annoying. No pain, no blood… nothing. After what seemed like hours of this, he could hear the faint sounds of sirens and yelling, before suddenly feeling like he was falling. Not just falling, but freefalling. As in, going down a rollercoaster with nothing but your own body, hurtling towards a seemingly endless void. His speed and velocity only seemed to be increasing. Holy shit, this was REALLY fast. How was he not on fire from this much speed?

Aiden, too terrified to scream or flail, simply closed his eyes and braced himself for what was inevitably coming. This was the end, he knew it. He should’ve trusted his gut and just went to that stupid diner. For a brief moment, he regretted everything he ever did. The Fixer contracts he carried out, the convoys he destroyed, the cars he had stolen, but most of all, the people he put in danger… Nicky, Jacks… no, don’t think about her again…. dammit… even Lena. For the first time in what felt like forever, The Fox felt tears coming on. The intense speed at which he was falling didn’t even bother him anymore. The regret was heavy, burdensome. All of his past sins came to haunt him one last time before he met his fate. He supposed he deserved it. What a bitter pill regret is.

WHAM!

Aiden felt an impact so hard, he thought all of his body parts disconnected at once. All of the wind was instantly knocked out of him, the beautiful white light now gone. He was dead. But wait… he could still feel his arms and legs. He could still feel pain. So much pain…

All of the energy once within his shaken bones instantly disappeared. He felt like he could sleep forever. Isn’t that what he was doing? He honestly didn’t know anymore. All he knew was, he was splayed all across some hard surface… asphalt? It felt rocky, like asphalt. He tried moving his left arm slightly. It hurt a bit, but he managed to get the appendage out from under his body.

So far, so good.

He tried moving his right leg and was greeted by a tremendous amount of pain that rippled throughout his entire body.

Not good. Horrible idea.

Clearly, he wasn’t dead. At least, he didn’t think so. Also, what a nice warm atmosphere he was feeling. Wait… atmosphere? He was dead! He started hearing other ambiance sounds. Cars passing by, the distant chatter of human sounding voices… what the hell was going on? Only one way to find out. He tried to pick his head up to moderate success, managing to catch a glimpse of a very dark sky and what seemed like a wall of neon before letting his head smack against the pavement-like surface again.

‘Ow.’

It was bad enough he got shot in the damn head, now he had to be reckless and let his skull drop like that. He lifted his head again, this time getting a clear view of what was right in front of him. Aiden couldn’t believe it: he somehow ended up in a city! But not just any city; it was a city bathed in an eerie red fog, with a brightly lit sign around every corner. The buildings were tall and strangely shaped, some tipping to the side, others having jagged edges that jutted out at very peculiar angles.

‘Where the fuck am I?’, thought Aiden as he very slowly managed to get to a sitting up position, every muscle he moved screaming out in pain. After a couple minutes of scanning his surroundings in more detail, Aiden noticed something else: nobody else looked human. Well, they did, but they somewhat resembled some kind of animal or something. He quickly looked at his own hands, his eyes trailing down his chest and eventually stopping at his legs and feet. Somehow, Aiden looked completely unchanged. Everything about him was completely normal from before.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he started to try and get to a standing position. This time around, he managed to get it right the first time. He felt some cracking here and there, which, compared to the previous attempt at moving, was a welcome sensation. Anything was better than pain at this point. Spotting a vending machine nearby, Aiden decided, against his better judgment, to throw himself towards it to at least have something to hold on to.

That didn’t happen at all.

Aiden ended up almost rag dolling right past the machine as he awkwardly plummeted to another painful and embarrassing defeat.

“Well… that went well”, scoffed the vigilante bitterly. After spending another seemingly long time to get back on his feet, it finally hit him: this was no ordinary vending machine. “Heroin… acid… cocaine… molly… what the hell?”

He was beyond confused at this point. A vending machine that dispensed drugs?

Before he could ponder the situation any further, Aiden’s thought process was interrupted by a long scream followed by a what sounded like a laser blast. Adrenaline now kicking in, Aiden headed towards the general direction of the noise. It didn’t take him very long to pinpoint the source: a pair of creatures, jet black in color with icy halos over their head, open firing on some person vaguely resembling a frog. Their laughter was very chilling, half robotic and half distorted with a moderate amount of static. The sound cut through the air like a hot knife through butter.

Suddenly feeling mortal again and terrified beyond rational thought for the first time in his life, Aiden bolted for the closest street as one of the creatures turned to face him with a menacing smile. Heart pounding, Aiden managed to quickly limp a couple blocks before the adrenaline left his body, forcing him to come to a screeching halt under a small overhanging roof, slumping against the wall to catch his breath.

Aiden quickly scanned the building. “Looks like a hotel. Perfect.”

Without further delay, he opened the door, which was strangely unlocked, and quickly hid inside and slammed the door shut. Finally feeling safe, he let all of his weight rest against the hefty metal frame. The air was very still. The seconds seemed like hours as Aiden tried his best to keep his breath under control. He thanked his lucky stars that the place was abandoned. At least, until he suddenly felt something extremely sharp and extremely metal stick him right above his spine, followed by an intense and hostile female voice coming from behind him.

“Don’t move a muscle, asshole, or I’ll end you.”  

Like this story? Get up to date with the full story at:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18106346

[whenfrasermetbeauchamp]

To his extreme surprise, the next few years were in many ways among the happiest of Jamie Fraser’s life, aside from the years of his marriage.

…

Above everything else, he had Willie. Helwater was dedicated to horses; even before the boy could stand solidly on his feet, his grandfather had him propped on a pony to be led round the paddock. By the time Willie was three, he was riding by himself—under the watchful eye of MacKenzie, the groom.

Willie was a strong, courageous, bonny little lad. He had a blinding smile, and could charm birds from the trees if he liked. He was also remarkably spoilt. As the ninth Earl of Ellesmere and the only heir to both Ellesmere and Helwater, with neither mother nor father to keep him under control, he ran roughshod over his doting grandparents, his young aunt, and every servant in the place—except MacKenzie.

And that was a near thing. So far, threats of not allowing the boy to help him with the horses had sufficed to quash Willie’s worst excesses in the stables, but sooner or later, threats alone were not going to be sufficient, and MacKenzie the groom found himself wondering just what was going to happen when he finally lost his own control and clouted the wee fiend.

…

“I shall be leaving tomorrow.” Jamie spoke matter-of-factly, not taking his eyes off the bay mare’s fetlock. The horny growth he was filing flaked away, leaving a dust of coarse black shavings on the stable floor.

“Where are you going? To Derwentwater? Can I come with you?” William, Viscount Dunsany, ninth Earl of Ellesmere, hopped down from the edge of the box stall, landing with a thump that made the bay mare start and snort.

…

The ninth Earl of Ellesmere had his chin thrust out as far as it would go, but the defiant look in his eye was tempered with a certain doubt as he intercepted Jamie’s cold blue gaze. Jamie set the horse’s hoof down slowly, just as slowly stood up, and drawing himself to his full height of six feet four, put his hands on his hips, looked down at the Earl, three feet six, and said, very softly, “No.”

“Yes!” Willie stamped his foot on the hay-strewn floor. “You have to do what I tell you!”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do!”

“No, I…” Shaking his head hard enough to make the red hair fly about his ears, Jamie pressed his lips tight together, then squatted down in front of the boy.

“See here,” he said, “I havena got to do what ye say, for I’m no longer going to be groom here. I told ye, I shall be leaving tomorrow.”

Willie’s face went quite blank with shock, and the freckles on his nose stood out dark against the fair skin.

“You can’t!” he said. “You can’t leave.”

“I have to.”

“No!” The small Earl clenched his jaw, which gave him a truly startling resemblance to his paternal great-grandfather. Jamie thanked his stars that no one at Helwater had likely ever seen Simon Fraser, Lord Lovat. “I won’t let you go!”

…

Without a word, Jamie grabbed the boy by the collar, lifted him off his feet and carried him, kicking and squirming, to the farrier’s stool he had been using. Here he sat down, flipped the Earl over his knee, and smacked his buttocks five or six times, hard. Then he jerked the boy up and set him on his feet.

“I hate you!” The Viscount’s tear-smudged face was bright red and his fists trembled with rage.

“Well, I’m no verra fond of you either, ye little bastard!” Jamie snapped.

Willie drew himself up, fists clenched, purple in the face.

“I’m not a bastard!” he shrieked. “I’m not, I’m not! Take it back! Nobody can say that to me! Take it back, I said!”

Jamie stared at the boy in shock. There had been talk, then, and Willie had heard it. He had delayed his going too long.

He drew a deep breath, and then another, and hoped that his voice would not tremble.

“I take it back,” he said softly. “I shouldna have used the word, my lord.”

…

“Have you really got to go, Mac?” he asked, in a very small voice.

“Aye, I have.” He looked into the dark blue eyes, so heartbreakingly like his own, and suddenly didn’t give a damn what was right or who saw. He pulled the boy roughly to him, hugging him tight against his heart, holding the boy’s face close to his shoulder, that Willie might not see the quick tears that fell into his thick, soft hair.

Willie’s arms went around his neck and clung tight. He could feel the small, sturdy body shake against him with the force of suppressed sobbing. He patted the flat little back, and smoothed Willie’s hair, and murmured things in Gaelic that he hoped the boy would not understand.

At length, he took the boy’s arms from his neck and put him gently away.

“Come wi’ me to my room, Willie; I shall give ye something to keep.”

…

“What’s that little candle for?” Willie asked. “Grannie says only stinking Papists burn candles in front of heathen images.”

“Well, I am a stinking Papist,” Jamie said, with a wry twist of his mouth. “It’s no a heathen image, though; it’s a statue of the Blessed Mother.”

“You are?” Clearly this revelation only added to the boy’s fascination. “Why do Papists burn candles before statues, then?”

Jamie rubbed a hand through his hair. “Aye, well. It’s…maybe a way of praying—and remembering. Ye light the candle, and say a prayer and think of people ye care for. And while it burns, the flame remembers them for ye.”

“Who do you remember?” Willie glanced up at him. His hair was standing on end, rumpled by his earlier distress, but his blue eyes were clear with interest.

“Oh, a good many people. My family in the Highlands—my sister and her family. Friends. My wife.” And sometimes the candle burned in memory of a young and reckless girl named Geneva, but he did not say that.

Willie frowned. “You haven’t got a wife.”

“No. Not anymore. But I remember her always.”

Willie put out a stubby forefinger and cautiously touched the little statue. The woman’s hands were spread in welcome, a tender maternity engraved on the lovely face.

“I want to be a stinking Papist, too,” Willie said firmly.

“Ye canna do that!” Jamie exclaimed, half-amused, half-touched at the notion. “Your grandmama and your auntie would go mad.”

“Would they froth at the mouth, like that mad fox you killed?” Willie brightened.

“I shouldna wonder,” Jamie said dryly.

“I want to do it!” The small, clear features were set in determination. “I won’t tell Grannie or Auntie Isobel; I won’t tell anybody. Please, Mac! Please let me! I want to be like you!”

…

“I baptize thee William James,” he said softly, “in the name o’ the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

Willie blinked, crossing his eyes as a drop of water rolled down his nose. He stuck out his tongue to catch it, and Jamie laughed, despite himself.

“Why did you call me William James?” Willie asked curiously. “My other names are Clarence Henry George.” He made a face; Clarence wasn’t his idea of a good name.

Jamie hid a smile. “Ye get a new name when you’re baptized; James is your special Papist name. It’s mine, too.”

“It is?” Willie was delighted. “I’m a stinking Papist now, like you?”

...

“Good.” Jamie reached out and ruffled Willie’s hair in dismissal. “It’s almost time for your tea; ye’d best go on up to the house now.”

Willie started for the door, but stopped halfway, suddenly distressed again, with a hand pressed flat to his chest.

“You said to keep this to remember you. But I haven’t got anything for you to remember me by!”

Jamie smiled slightly. His heart was squeezed so tight, he thought he could not draw breath to speak, but he forced the words out.

“Dinna fret yourself,” he said. “I’ll remember ye.”

— Voyager

Gifs: section1rules.tumblr.com, Season Three, Episode Four, October 1, 2017 (horse riding)

Gif: smartbitchestrashybooks.com, Season Three, Episode Four, October 1, 2017 (walking)

Gif: outlanderamerica.tumblr.com, Season Three, Episode Four, October 1, 2017 (bastard)

Gif: lordjohngreys.tumblr.com, Season Three, Episode Four, October 1, 2017 (“Mac”)

Gif: pinterest.com, Season Three, Episode Four, October 1, 2017 (stinkin’ papist)

Photo: Starz, Season Three, Episode Four, October 1, 2017

Book: Voyager, Diana Gabaldon, 1994

Tumblr: October 15, 2018, WhenFraserMetBeauchamp 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿❤️🇬🇧

WFMB’s Tags: #Outlander #Season Three Episode Four #S3E4 #Of Lost Things #Voyager #Chapter Sixteen #Above everything else, he had Willie #Dinna fret yourself, I’ll remember ye #Jamie Fraser #Willie #William, Viscount Dunsany, ninth Earl of Ellesmere #William Clarence Henry George Ransom #William Ransom #William Fraser 😬 #146 #101518

[shogetsus]

Stripes of Auburn, Eye of Sapphire

21. Mai

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Summary: A quiet moment goes by, and then she feels it; that strange, inescapable force drawing her to him and that gorgeous sapphire blue eye, the air around them changing drastically with a simple look from his part. Masamune’s face softens, a heated gleam on his gaze, and her laughter falters, a wheeze leaving her instead, tongue darting out to lick her suddenly dry lips.

It’s useless to ignore the giddy feeling for much longer, or denying it altogether. At that point, Mai’s pretty much aware of what that spark between them is.

She’s crushing on Masamune Date, and dangerously hard.

Mai

“Remember: You’re the one with the reins. It’s you who gets to decide the way,”

It’s a particularly cold morning, but the entire exercise along with—if kind of secretly—wearing another layer of kimono under her hakama has helped to not feel the chilly wind seeping into her bones. Mai can’t say the same for the slight yet persistent soreness in her thighs, though, and doesn’t want to imagine how people even manage to sit on those hard saddles in lighter clothing.

While it’s been somewhat convenient she’s always been prone to exercise, there’s only so much of an edge to have in her current situation, toned legs or not.

“Y-yes…”

Kojuro catches her eyes nearby, in a well-timed moment to make a subtle gesture for her to straighten her back. Complying right away, he shoots her a thumbs up and a smile before returning to his task of sharpening his katana.

“Eyes up ahead, lass,” Masamune reminds her with a wave of his hand, standing beside the black mare she’s borrowed for her lessons, “You have to be confident when you’re up there, no matter what. He’ll know if you hesitate, and that’s where you’ll end up losing control,”

Turns out, taking riding lessons with one of the most reckless commanders around has been nothing like what she expected up to be, and Masamune is, in fact, a nice teacher. Strict and technical when it needs to be, he’s so far managed to guide her through without truly imposing any of his wild ways on her, letting her be in charge instead.

In that particular case, practice does make perfect though, and so she rides up around a set of trees once again, each time faster than before for good measure. Trotting down the hill, Masamune’s there waiting for her return—hands on his hips, eye squinting, and a satisfied grin plastered all over his face. The wind rustles his chestnut locks aside, and her secure grip on the reins loosens a little bit, her lips quirking up into a smile of her own, heart racing in tune with the hooves of her horse.

Oh, she could very much get used to that sight.

“Well done, kitten. Not bad at all for your first time…” He closes up the distance between them, yet purposefully doesn’t help her hop down the saddle, waiting for her to do it on her own accord—another little detail she appreciates.

Once with her feet safely on the ground, Mai handles the reins to him. “I wouldn’t have done it as well without your help. You’re surprisingly a very good teacher, Masamune.”

“’Surprisingly’? Why would you think otherwise?” Quirking a curious brow, he doesn’t sound precisely hurt.

“Come on, given how wildly you ride, I was kind of expecting you’d be a pain on me…” She shrugs nonchalantly.

He can’t seem to help the easy laugh that comes at that. “At this point, I don’t know if I should be hurt by your low expectations of me,” Walking together, the two of them meet up with Masamune’s retainer. “What say you, Kojuro? Am I as awful as the lass implies so?”

Not appearing truly intimidated by the question, Kojuro briefly stares at the pair with an impassive expression. “I think… you reap what you sow,” A very small quirk of his lips give away his amusement, but he’s quick in adding, “Milord.”

The baffled look Masamune gives him paired up with Kojuro’s shameless deadpan gets to be too hilarious all in a sudden. Before she can refrain herself, she’s bursting in laughter, loud and free, tears brimming her eyes. It doesn’t take much longer until the men join her, snickering in spite of themselves.

It’s been little more than a month since her arrival, but she’s seen some of the staff shooting odd looks and subtle frowns at the Date crew. Regardless, Mai is more inclined to agree with the female attendants of Azuchi, and admit the northerners are one of the most interesting people in town. It could be thanks to the undeniable charisma from the daimyo of Oshu, sure thing, yet there’s something very amicable from others like Kojuro or Yojiro, it becomes way too easy to be at ease around them.

To her eyes, they could pretty much fit into the ‘bad boys’ trope; funny, ruggedly hot, risky, and with a heart of gold. If you happen to be on their good side, that is.

“I see how it is…” Masamune stares at her in bemusement, although there’s an odd twitch in his brows as he does so, squinting his eye a little—almost as if he can’t seem to look away from her for some crazy reason.  

A quiet moment goes by, and then she feels it; that strange, inescapable force drawing her to him and that gorgeous sapphire blue eye, the air around them changing drastically with a simple look from his part. Masamune’s face softens, a heated gleam on his gaze, and her laughter falters, a wheeze leaving her instead, tongue darting out to lick her suddenly dry lips.

It’s useless to ignore the giddy feeling for much longer, or denying it altogether. At that point, Mai’s pretty much aware of what that spark between them is.

She’s crushing on Masamune Date, and dangerously hard.

They must have been staring at each other like dorks for quite a while, for when she comes to realize it, Kojuro’s surprisingly—and strangely convenient—nowhere to be seen. Mai presumes he’s no fool to not have noticed the peculiar turn of her relationship with Masamune as of late. Although considering how close those two seem to be, pretty much like family, the thought of Kojuro appearing to be fine and even somewhat approving with having her hanging around with his Lord is one of the nicest things she’s had ever since she arrived in that time period.

However, Masamune’s quick into making all her thoughts drift only to him once again, closing the remaining space between them and tilting her chin up with an index finger. Meeting his eye, it’s so much she can do to prevent her knees going weak at the sight of his very alluring smirk, robbing her of words.

Not like she’s in need of any either way. Her eyes flutter close reflexively as his palm cups her cheek and leans in for the kill, stealing a content sigh right from her lips as Masamune kisses her sweetly.

Oh, boy. What am I ever going to do with you?

In all honesty, Masamune’s lips could be the subject of poetry, and it’s most likely their undeniable chemistry what makes those moments feel so right. And yet, regardless of how impossibly better their kisses are turning out to be, there’s a little, familiar ominous voice still whispering within her mind.

‘You shouldn’t get used to this’. ‘It’s bound to end, and you know it’. ‘It’s better to quit it soon before it’s too late’.

She doesn’t quite reach his shoulders before they come apart, a sort of sadness tugging at her. Whether she likes it or not, the voice of her dark thoughts isn’t outright lying, and there’s no real guarantee of how much those… indulging moments between them would last. For all it takes, he would even be opting on messing around with another staff member the next week and that’s it.

“What was that for?” It’s all Mai can voice out from the awful pile of running thoughts.

“No true reason. That smile of yours is hard to resist, kitten…” He says, softly wiping her tears of mirth with his thumb, “Well, there’s that, and also my way to tell Mitsuhide to stop creeping on us!” He raises his voice and speaks past his shoulder, although doesn’t bother fully turning.

Just then, a flash of white saunters the hallways, a very characteristic snicker reaching the two of them, all but giving a certain someone away as he walks past without even saying hello.

“Oh, dear,” Mai can’t help going red as a tomato, feeling like a kid being caught in mischief, “For how long has he been there?”

“Does it matter?” Masamune shrugs, appearing not winded up to care, “Besides, it’s not like it’s the first time he does it, right?”

“What?” For some reason, that comment makes her panic, “Wait. What do you mean by that?”

He quirks a brow at her skepticism, “I mean, he was also at the castle gates, the other night,” When Mai’s eyes almost bulge out of their sockets, he tilts his head, looking confused, “I was sure you’ve seen him before I did. Wait… so it wasn’t why you kissed me back there out of the blue?”

“No! Why in hell would I do that!?” She exclaims, “I-I was just playing around!”

She’s certain she couldn’t be looking any more mortified than she is then, but frustratingly so, Masamune seems to be quite the opposite at the sudden outcome, even almost pleasantly surprised. Apparently, it’s his turn to burst into laughter, most likely at the current look of her face, and she smacks him on the arm for that. “Hahaha—hey! What was that for?”

“Mitsuhide just saw us and you’re not even a little bit bothered by that?”

“Why would I be? It’s his job to know all that happens, in and out the castle walls,” He says matter-of-factly, winding an arm around her shoulders all too nonchalantly, guiding her inside.

When he puts it like that, it’s hard to complain about that simple fact. Regardless, even when Masamune seems to be sort of accustomed to it, the mere idea of being stalked around can’t help making her very uneasy, still feeling like being caught in something she shouldn’t.

Reaching the hallways, he pats her head before letting her go, about to walk on their separate ways; Mai, onto Ieyasu’s manor for her scheduled medicine lessons, and Masamune most likely to Nobunaga’s tenshu. “Don’t get too uptight by someone like that sly fox, alright?” He advises, shooting her a warm smile before turning to leave. “Oh, and say hi to Ieyasu for me,”

“Yeah, I will…” Mai mumbles, speaking to the wooden floor and for some reason growing moody, her thoughts becoming a huge mess.

Mitsuhide’s far from being the main source of my troubles. You are, Masamune. Ugh, what the hell is going on with me?

Leaning against the wall, she sighs deeply, taking a moment to recollect herself and summon the will to go on the current tasks for the day. Or that is, until rather out of the blue, Masamune turns on his heels and pokes out his head past the corner of the hallway, dropping a sudden peck on her cheek.

She startles, completely caught by surprise, flustering in an instant. “That’s a better look on you, kitten,”

However, before she can come up with something to say, Masamune’s already gone, leaving her with a rather different sort of mess.

“Please, get that beast out of my sights. And its owner too, for the matter…”

For the first time, she gets to witness Ieyasu seeming to break from his ever deadpan composure, growing alarmed at the sight of an unruly tiger prowling about on the hallway, fast approaching to his place. It’s when he scrambles for a wooden sword nearby when Mai takes his words to heart.

“I’m sorry, Ieyasu. Shogetsu’s been following me around a lot lately,” Packing up her notes in a rush, Mai tries keeping the cub from prodding further inside, putting some effort into barricading the door, “I don’t think he means any harm, though. He’s just lonely and looking for someone to play with,”

“You think I care?” The blonde scoffs, keeping a watchful eye on the door to his study. “Whatever. Neither that thing nor Masamune are getting close to Wasabi. Especially Masamune,”

“Haha, come on, Ieyasu. You say that as if Masamune would cook your pet—“

“He totally would. You’re a fool if you believe otherwise.” He says so seriously, it robs her of whatever possible retort, making her stammer just slightly.

To some extent and judging by the harsh tone of his voice, Mai notices Ieyasu isn’t deeming her a fool only for that. Rather, he says that as if implying she doesn’t know anything about Masamune or his intentions. However, with a purring cub curling around her ankles, it’s all too easy to lose the energy to prod into his true thoughts, forcing an apologetic smile on her face.

“Thanks for today’s lessons. We’ll be out of your hair now,” She says curtly, not waiting for a farewell and hopping Shogetsu in her free arm.

The rest of the day goes by in low spirits, missing out on the chance of meeting any of the commanders stationed in the castle due to a late war council summoned by Nobunaga. Midway to the evening, she’s walking back to her room, quite ready to get on wrapping up the remaining of her studies and call it a day. Feeling a tad bit sore from sitting on a saddle almost all morning, her focus goes on slipping on the comfiest clothes she can find, rolling her shoulders and popping her joints in anticipation.

Or that is, until she slides the door open, a sense of wariness coursing through.

Someone’s been here.

The room isn’t in any particular mess—quite the contrary, in fact—yet it’s easy to tell given the small slit on the balcony doors, and more precisely, the new contents carefully placed on her desk. Reflexively, one hand slides into the folds of her kimono, feeling the cold metal of her folded fan and taking reassurance in that before warily stepping inside.

In the end and after turning on the lamp, there’s nothing truly suspicious—just a small wooden cup with a single flower inside, adding up a letter below. Nonetheless, it’s all too easy to figure out who the sender is with the sight of the plum blossom alone.  

“Oh, my. Have I been stealing your time? How rude of me! Perhaps I can make it up to you with this small token?”  

Her blood runs cold all in a sudden. How in hells and heavens did she happen to have forgotten already? How could she have been so stupid to do so, actually?

With shaking fingers and a heavy heart, she finally gathers enough guts to read the letter.

“The owner of my heart deserves so much more than a simple flower, even more so when its beauty pales before hers. Yet I hope this humble token brightens your evening, as the mere thought of your smile brightens mine, beautiful Jewel of Azuchi.

Have you considered my offer? If so, an envoy of mine will meet you soon.

I’m eagerly looking forward to our fourth meeting.”

Biting her lower lip hard enough to draw blood, all she can think of doing is tucking the paper into her purse in a rush, and bring the wooden cup to a more sheltered place when it wouldn’t catch attention. Turns out, horseback riding and medicine aren’t precisely all she has learned throughout the day, and if a certain kitsune happens to find out the sworn enemy of the Oda, Shingen Takeda, is still attempting to contact her, he most likely wouldn’t be as lenient as he’s so far being.

Before her brain finally falls into overdrive, Mai changes into sleeping clothes at the speed of light, practically jumping under the false safety of the futon covers, muscles taut with sheer anxiety.

Until a man’s voice from the other side of the door makes her breath hitch. It couldn’t be—

“Lady Mai, are you asleep?”

On one hand, she could be calling for help, and yet on the other, the closest residence from hers happens to be no other than Mitsuhide’s, of all inconvenient people. “N-no, I’m still up. Who’s this?”

“Oh? You don’t recognize me?”

A huge wave of relief courses through her at the amused tone. Well, now I do, and the fact you’re trying to hide it. Dropping her fans away, she then moves to open the door.

“Haha, very funny, Mas—wha—!” Abruptly, her visitor rushes inside and grabs her by the hand, drawing her his way and quickly sliding the door close. Mai stammers back at the sudden intrusion, partially trapped between him and the wall, looking up and meeting Masamune’s intense eye. “What are you doing here this late at night? Weren’t you at the council?”

“Would you believe it was a test?” He narrows his eye, “Were you thinking about your safety before opening the door?”

“I don’t know. I opened it for you, and you’re the least safe person here.” She says matter-of-factly, stabbing an index finger against his chest, “Plus, you’re not very good at faking your voice, ‘lass’.”

He seems to be willing to admit defeat in that regard, letting her go with a chuckle. “So, what’s up? As much as I appreciate the visit, you didn’t just come over only to check my security measures, did you?”

At that, a familiar carnivorous smile makes way across his lips, eyeing her hungrily, as a predator would when claiming a prey.

“No. I came for a tryst.”

A-N: I've been struggling a bit with this part, but in the end decided to cut it off here because... I want to leave spicy scenes inside a single chapter. (!!!!) So yeah, I'd say the continuation of this is interesting *eyes emoji* Happy Valentine's day y'all! Thank you so much for sticking around and your support, it means a damn lot to me ♥ ♥ 

[lupizora]

Curiosity

This was my piece for the @thebnhaspacezine! It was an honor to work together with so many amazing artists and writers to raise funds for The Trevor Project! I enjoyed the whole process greatly, and it was fun to indulge myself into writing about Mecha suits and space with no other than the kickass Kendou (she is one of my favorite BNHA girls in the series). ^w^

Also, a big thank you to my lovely beta readers, @kacchansass and @myloveistoblame for their tremendous help into polishing this story. 

This fic wouldn't have been the same without you~ ♥

Genre: Science Fiction/Adventure

Pairing: Gen

Rating: G

Word Count: 1996

Summary: Satellite Maintenance Leader Kendou Itsuka has faced several challenges during her duties in the past. When an accident occurs, Kendou's choice brings her a step closer to the answer they had been searching for all along.

“Ground Control to Major Tom. Do you copy?”

Kendou smiled as her T-5 mobile suit came to a halt in a series of tremors. The crew never stopped finding new ways to joke about her promotion for the past six months. It didn’t bother her though. Kendou considered it endearing that they indulged her when she was blasting classical music during work. It made the routine of the Satellite more bearable.

She flicked the intercom switch over her head. “Major Tom to Ground Control. How are you guys?”

“Same old, same old.” Fukidashi’s voice wavered through the speakers, the volume rising and lowering as if he was underwater. It was a common characteristic of his species as their heads were an ever-shifting liquid. “Anything new to report, Major?”

Kendou glanced to her right. Floating like a pearly white lance in front of Beta, the Satellite continued its orbit around the planet. Her mobile suit clung on the third crescent structure that circled around the main shaft. Its slow rotation always allowed Kendou to see Alnitak Aa in the distance. Despite several parsecs separating them, her home planet was not able to hide the blue supergiant star. It reminded Kendou of a permanent sun rising behind an invisible horizon.

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” she said. “Dunno if the others have anything else to report.”

“Aren’t they with you?” he asked.

“I’m on my way to them.” A cold feeling traveled along her spine, and Kendou restarted the suit. “What’s wrong?”

Fukidashi took a lot of awful seconds to reply. “We haven’t been able to reach them for fifteen minutes now.”

“And their marks?”

“They are all glitching except yours. I thought it was another interference honestly.”

She sighed. “No need to panic. Make sure backup is on standby and wait for my signal.”

“Roger!”

The T-5 gained speed, its legs thumping against the surface of the Satellite. Her heartbeat pounded as if Kendou was the one running, and her link with the suit wasn’t the only thing responsible. Even the slightest deviation from the routine amounted to a threat. That was the nature of working on nothing remotely Earth-based.

The construction site came into focus along with the bright red TALOS suits of her teammates. They were under attack. Bots swarmed over their every direction as if the surface had come to life. Whatever they did must have been serious to receive such a massive reaction. Kendou didn’t want to point fingers at the moment. She wanted them safe. With a powerful jump, she landed on a robot that threatened the T-6 of Kodai Yui.

“You okay?” Kendou asked.

Kodai gave her a thumbs-up with the suit.

Kendou pointed in the direction she came from. “Communication works that way. Tell them we need reinforcements.”

Kodai seemed hesitant but lead the T-6 away nonetheless.

Up ahead, the rest of the team took a stand against the onslaught. Kendou dashed to their aid, tearing a robot from the T-13’s back.

“Nice save!” Tetsutetsu shouted through the intercom.

They stood back to back, striking down any blue light that moved. The security robots were quick on their four legs. Graced with sharp teeth and claws, they were set on tearing the TALOS suits apart.

The last member with his T-1 was kneeling a few meters away. “Care to explain what’s going on?” Kendou asked him.

“Malfunctioning,” Awase said, panic coloring his words. “Give me two minutes.”

“That’s no simple malfunctioning. What did you do?”

“Nothing! I swear!”

“It all started after we cut that damn cable,” Tetsutetsu grumbled.

“You did what?!” she yelled.

“It snapped on its own! The thing was at least a hundred years old for fuck’s sake. Whoever thought the TALOS suited this job is beyond me. I mean, look at these!” Awase rattled his suit’s burly arms. “You’re putting them to better use now.”

Kendou punched a robot out of the T-1’s range. “Stop complaining like an old man and tell me the plan.”

“I say we punch the thing into oblivion,” Tetsutetsu said.

Awase cursed under his breath. “I’m trying to glue these things together and bypass the security protocol on this delicate equipment. And this is your two cents?”

Kendou didn’t disagree with his reasoning. They strived to maintain a balance with this ancient machinery in the hope that it’d reveal its secrets. Violent approaches were frowned upon for that reason. They had to do something though. Damaging one small part of the Satellite wouldn’t be too troublesome. After decades of human space exploration, the technology still needed a good whack from time to time. Tools don’t make craftsmen; it is how they use them.

“Tetsutetsu! We’ll go with your plan!”

The T-13 turned around mid-punch. A jumbled mess of vowels came through the intercom as its owner tried to object.

“You serious?!” Awase screamed instead. “What part of ‘This is delicate equipment’ you didn’t catch?”

“We are running out of time! I’m gonna do it,” she said. “Just get out of the way.”

“Are you sure, boss?”

In the past, Kendou would have never done anything this reckless. She would have analyzed every variable and form a cohesive plan. They were in space, the most dangerous frontier humans had ever crossed. One thoughtless action and her life would have been at stake. But she would do anything to protect her team. After going through a lot together, their bonds ran deep enough for her to consider them as family.

“Yes! Now take him out of here!”

Tetsutetsu grabbed the T-1 from behind. While Awase struggled to free the suit from his wrestling hold, the T-13’s thrusters led both suits into the darkness of the cosmos.

The moment they were out of reach, Kendou slammed her fist on the control panel. Cracks spread on the Satellite’s surface beneath her feet. She felt rather than heard the rumble it produced, waiting until it stopped to pull her hand back. The suit’s fingers opened with ease. Nothing seemed damaged. Whopping cheers resonated through the intercom as she looked up to reassure them. Then all hell broke loose.

The explosion was soundless, as everything in space should be. So the T-5’s speakers only received Kendou’s screams. The destroyed arms unraveled outside her broken windshield like puzzle pieces floating away to join the stars. Numb and in great pain, Kendou plummeted helplessly under the crescent. Beta’s sole star appeared before her. Together with Alnitak, they cast a crown of light over the planet. Blues and reds and yellows spread around her like spilled watercolors over a dark canvas. Despite her desperation, Kendou was still wishing to protect this breathtaking view with all of her heart.

As she continued her descent into the planet’s shadow, a slice of light remained flickering outside the suit. Slowly, it transformed into a figure much alike Kendou’s. The celestial woman’s fair skin gave off a golden glow, bright enough to conceal the details of her features. Her long midnight hair blended with the cosmos; constellations dancing among the strands.

The woman entered the cockpit as if nothing was there to stop her. With no further resistance, her hands cupped Kendou’s face. They were warm, anchoring Kendou against the crippling cold that wanted to consume her whole. Her breath fogged the glass of her helmet. Still, the celestial’s eyes remained visible like two pools of endless night and knowledge. Leaning close enough for their foreheads to touch, the brightness of the lady’s form consumed Kendou’s line of vision. Her consciousness followed as everything faded to black.

Voices called her name. Someone shook Kendou’s shoulders. Opening her eyes, a blue light greeted her from above. It bounced on Tetsutetsu’s rigid hairdo, giving it a metallic glint. Tears shined on the keratin spikes around his eyes.

“Are you all right?” he shouted.

A cane smacked him on the shoulder. “She will be, if you give her some room to breathe.”

Tetsutetsu stepped back to reveal Shuzenji Chiyo, the space station’s head doctor. Behind her Awase and Kodai observed the scene, visibly relaxing after a good look at Kendou.

They were in the station’s infirmary. Screens stood in place of windows, usually running diagnostics on the current patients—Kendou in this case.

“Boss…” Awase started, clenching his fists on his sides. “We… I’m sorry for what happened! I’m ready to receive my punishment!”

“Wait a minute, man! It was my idea. You should punish me!” Tetsutetsu said patting his chest.

Shuzenji smacked their shins with deadly accuracy. “What are you younglings saying? The woman just woke up. Leave this for a later date.”

Raising her arm, Kendou returned their attention to the bed. “It’s okay... Granny.” Her voice sounded as scratchy as it was on her throat. “It was.... my call to make.”

“But-”

“No buts. She needs rest so get out!” Shuzenji pushed all three through the door and sighed when the opening closed again. “How are you feeling, dear?”  

Kendou stared at her arm. Every part of her body felt sluggish but she could move without thinking. This shouldn’t be possible. In the back of her mind, she still remembered the agony of being trapped inside her own body.

“Thank the stars something disconnected you or the damage would have been significantly worse. Your nervous system is still in shock,” Shuzenji said as she checked Kendou’s vitals. “Security robots and mines? Millennia might separate our civilizations, but we think alike. Such a shame.”

“Granny. I saw one of the Ancients.”

The old lady looked up from the tablet but said nothing, prompting her to continue.

“I wasn’t disconnected. My hands didn’t budge. I couldn’t do anything about the controls. Then she appeared.” Kendou’s breath dropped as she replayed that moment. “Like a ghost in space.”

“People hallucinate many things during a situation like this. Our radars caught no other heat signature than yours.” Shuzenji clasped her shoulder. “This was probably only a vision.”

Kendou nodded reluctantly.

While listening to the rest of the doctor’s report, her luck became apparent. Other than the lack of limb-coordination, she had minimal injuries. Two weeks of rehab and she’d return to her duties without a problem.

The reality of going through it turned out less simple. Her feet refused to step one after the other. Her fingers wouldn’t hold onto anything. However, Kendou had faced similar problems when she first applied for the space program. Truths which had shaped her entire life didn’t apply on zero gravity. This gave her hope and before long, Kendou stood inside the hangar again.

“How does it feel being back?” Awase asked from her left.

Kendou finished securing her long auburn ponytail inside the helmet. “I didn’t expect much and you know what? I wasn’t disappointed.”

He snorted. “For one, I’m glad you’re back. These past few weeks were hell.”

“Monoma can’t be that bad of a commander.”

“Just a shitload overzealous. Not gonna lie. It was a nice change of pace but it’s different with you, boss.”

“Yeah, I’m more likely to save your butt.” She punched him playfully on the shoulder.

“Truer words have never been spoken!” Tetsutetsu said as he enveloped both into a tight hug. “Let’s go, Red Oni Team!”

“Please don’t call us odd names,” Kodai said as they boarded their suits.

Stepping outside, Kendou was pleased to find the same void and stars. The Satellite was in the same spot too; its presence reminding her of an old promise.

“I’m gonna find what you are...” Her nine-year-old self vowed, stargazing from their front porch.

Kendou knew she had only a slim chance of learning the Satellite’s true purpose in her lifetime. It’d be too much to ask for the universe to reveal the rest of its many secrets. But maybe everything was more connected than it seemed. So, if she continued down this path, would it be possible to meet her savior again?

Although the cosmos remained silent, some stars flickered a little stronger than before.

A/N: For those that have purchased the zine, you might have noticed the ending here is kinda different from what's in the zine. The truth is I overestimated my word count and ended up with two additional pages. It resulted in me changing the ending to be fair for the rest of my fellow colleagues. But I really liked my original ending so this is what you see here. You could say the zine ending is exclusive to those who bought it in a way XDD