#I feel like that’s a specific enough point of pain to gauge after

[reasonreblogs]

If your back did/does hurt, advocate for yourself. Don’t let anyone ignore it hurts, if they say you’re too young, say “then shouldn’t that make this pain more of a concern?” because if you have back pain at a young age or symptoms you “shouldn’t have” then that’s *precisely* why it’s worrying and should be checked. I’ve had this as a hypothetical conversation because my mom had said “too young” before and when I framed it that way, she admitted that it was absolutely a very good point.

Though I will say: As someone whose back did hurt, get properly sized for a bra (obv if you wear one). You’ll be surprised by the actual instant relief leaving the store in a properly fitted bra (I almost cried).

Also I recommend working on your core strength, your lower back muscles might be what you’re using to keep yourself upright and working the lower abs and quads helps counter that and takes the stress off your lower back (sit in a chair that doesn’t rock with a solid back), lean back, and march your legs in place is the exercise I was given and it’s been perfect). Don’t go 32 years of that before correcting it, it actually sucks if walking puts you in pain when it didn’t ever have to. Sometimes you feel cheated over a simple solution when it’s like my issue but it just means you at east have a tangible solution, even if it comes later than you like.

why am i nostalgic for my teenage years bitch i didnt even have fun !!!

[teshadraws]

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

[Chapter 62]

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AO3 Link

-

Nia and Tobias get some time to relax and check out Kaleido Bay before solidifying their plans to find Xerneas.

“Oh! Tobias, look at these!”

Nia knows this is the fifth time today she’s called him to her side with the same level of excitement, but she can’t help it! Kaleido Bay is just made for overeager tourists like herself.

Besides, Tobias doesn’t seem to mind her enthusiasm. He looks up from the other side of the merchant stall, dry amusement on his face, and wordlessly skirts around other tourists browsing the merchant’s wares to reach her side.

“What did you find now?”

Nia points out her newest marvel: little sculptures crafted out of shells and stones and chunks of coral. They’re lined up across the counter, depicting…Pokemon? Nia thinks they’re supposed to be Pokemon. They’re kind of silly-looking, though, with proportions that even Nia can tell are way off.

They remind her of something she’s seen in the human world, when her and her family visited the beach and perused the endless little shops made specifically for tourists. Shells and rocks and googly-eyes haphazardly glued together to form palm-sized sea turtles and fish.

Tobias cracks a smile, picking up what Nia thinks is supposed to be a pichu. “Didn’t know there was a water type pichu out there.”

“Would that make it a beach-u?”

Tobias barks a laugh.

Nia beams, pleased with her accomplishment. Her eyes linger on her partner, trying to gauge how he’s feeling as he looks through more of the silly figurines.

It’s been nearly two days since their fight with Dismas. Nia’s ribs are finally well enough to walk around—sore, with stabs of pain if she laughs or inhales too deeply, but manageable—so they’d decided to browse the tourist shops of Kaleido Bay before heading back to Will’s settlement. According to Tobias, a merchant cart willing to take passengers is scheduled to leave town in the early afternoon, so they should be able to hitch a ride with them then.

Tobias seems to be doing as well as he can be, considering the circumstances. Nia’s relieved by that. Her heart still hurts every time she remembers his cries the other night, when he wailed into her shoulder and grieved all that he had lost.

“I should’ve died with her. I couldn’t even avenge them! What good am I if I can’t even do that?”

Nia had fought off a burst of panic at those words, staying wide awake even when Tobias had eventually drifted off. She’d held him close with a lump in her throat and frantically wondered if she needed to do something more drastic to keep him safe from himself.

The next day he’d seemed more lost than actively interested in harming himself, but she still felt herself tense every time he drifted off into thought, eyes glassy and brow furrowed, or when he had to leave the room for a few minutes.

He’s still quieter than usual, and that makes her worry, but Nia also can’t help thinking some part of him seems…lighter, almost. Like a weight she’d never noticed him carrying has finally been lifted away.

Even the way Tobias is picking through the merchant’s goods is different. He’s eyeing them with actual interest, which she usually wouldn’t expect from him. She can’t tell if the change is just him trying to distract himself, or if he’s actually letting himself relax for once. Letting himself take in the world around them rather than charging after Team Zenith with no allowance for trivial things.

Maybe Nia is just overly optimistic, but she can’t help hoping something good came from Tobias meeting Dismas and learning the truth.

Tobias snorts, catching Nia’s attention again.

“Look. It’s the jerk from the prison.”

Nia looks at the little shell creature in his hands: a grumpy bipedal sea turtle, with a rocky shell. A carracosta, Nia knows now. Its eyes are mismatched, one higher than the other, giving it a ridiculous expression.

Nia laughs, then winces when the action sends a bolt of pain through her ribs. Tobias winces too, looking torn between apology and being just as smug about making her laugh as she was for him.

“I think I prefer this version,” Nia says, taking the little figure to turn it over in her hands.

It’s cute. Much cuter than the real version they’d met yesterday, at least.

They’d been expecting a visit from the officials at the prison after everything that went down, but Nia still hadn’t been prepared for the carracosta who was sent to inform them of the aftermath of Dismas’ escape and subsequent recapture.

The carracosta did confirm right away that Dismas was safely secured and had been assigned a constant guard for his transfer to an even higher security prison in Ghatha. After his little stunt with the shackles here in Kaleido, they aren’t taking the risk of leaving him alone before his trial.

Tobias’ relief had been palpable after that piece of news, his tight shoulders slumping.

Unfortunately, the agent’s tone had hardened immediately after.

—————————————————

“I do have a matter of security to discuss with you both.”

Nia sends a nervous glance Tobias’ way. He’s holding a poker face better than she is, but she can see the tension hidden in his spine.

The carracosta lets that heavy sentence sit for a moment. Then he continues. “D22 was a high-security prisoner. A D-rank team with no official connection should not have had the clearance to speak with him.”

Nia cringes. They’re not just in trouble, but big trouble. She’d half-expected them to be, with how they’d used Rosalind’s connections to blackmail their way into Dismas’ cell, but…

Well, this is coming back to bite them much sooner than she’d feared it would. Guilt and fear eats at her in equal measure, but she keeps her mouth shut, staring down at her lap.

She doesn’t want them to get in trouble with the law, but she also doesn’t want them to get in trouble with Rosalind. Nia doesn’t want to imagine what the hatterene would do if they sold her out.

Nia half-expects Tobias to lie and get them out of this, but he also stays silent, apparently deciding that such a game would be too dangerous with the authoritative carracosta.

The atmosphere in the room is stifling. Choking. Nia thinks she’s sweating under her fur. Can she sweat? She’s wondered about this before. She’s basically a dog, so she thinks she just sweats through her paws and—

The carracosta grunts. “I see you two are going to be just as stubborn as Jude.”

Jude. The drednaw they blackmailed to let them into the prison. Oh, jeez. What happens if no one talks? They don’t torture people for stuff like this, right? Do they throw them in jail?

Just as panic starts to bloom in earnest in Nia’s chest, the carracosta sighs.

“Fine. We aren’t going to push for a statement that would likely just be a lie.”

While the tone isn’t scolding, per se, and the words aren’t outright condemnation, the meaning is clear.

They messed up. They did something that bent the rules, at best, and the officer in front of them is well aware of that. Even if he can’t accuse them outright.

Nia barely resists looking at Tobias again, swallowing hard and keeping her eyes down.

She can feel the burn of the carracosta’s accusing stare. “Considering you weren’t the direct cause of D22’s escape attempt and you did recapture him, we’ll be lenient this time. Tapu knows he would’ve done more damage without your intervention.”

Nia holds her breath.

“I’ll be letting your guildmaster know to keep an eye on you two for suspicious activity, but we won’t actively restrict you from missions. Consider this strike one on Team Scarlet’s record.”

Nia finally lifts her head to peek at the carracosta, unsure how to feel. Part of her didn’t even think they could get a mark on their record like that. Could their Seeker status be revoked entirely if they got too many?

That thought carves a pit of shame in her stomach. They never should’ve worked with Rosalind in the first place. And they definitely shouldn’t have done something as low as blackmailing Jude, no matter what he might’ve done to get in Rosalind’s books.

Is he going to be okay? What if he gets fired from the prison for this?

Nia swallows back tears.

They might be the reason someone loses their job. And they’re going to have a mark on their record. That means August will know about it, right? She can already imagine the shame of talking to their guildmaster with that weight hanging over their head.

Tobias, on the other hand, seems relieved at the sentencing, apparently more aware than Nia of exactly how badly this could’ve gone. He nods. “Thank you.”

The carracosta doesn’t smile. He looks at the two of them for another moment, then simply turns to leave.

“W-Wait!” Nia says, unable to stop herself. She knows asking about Jude would be a stupid idea, and some cowardly part of her doesn’t really want to know. But there are two other Pokemon who have been on her mind ever since waking up here in the clinic.

The carracosta stops.

“The guards. The ones who escorted us into the prison. Are they, um…okay?”

The carracosta looks back at her, something in his sharp expression finally softening. “Miroslav won’t be on duty for a long while, but he’ll live. Toko’s injuries were minimal. She asked that I thank you both for making sure the two of them made it out alive.”

Nia melts with relief. It’s so strong it almost overshadows the guilt she’d been wrestling with before. “Thank you.”

The carracosta leaves without another word.

Nia and Tobias wait another minute in heavy silence. Finally, when they’re both convinced the carracosta is really gone, they exhale.

“Well, that was terrifying,” Nia murmurs, sweeping her hands back over her ears.

Tobias makes a quiet sound of agreement, pinching at his eyes. He looks like he’s thinking hard about something, so Nia watches him and waits while her heart rate slows.

Sure enough, he eventually speaks up. “We shouldn’t take any more missions from Rosalind. At least for a while.”

Nia straightens, surprise clear in her voice. “Really?”

Tobias had never flinched at the idea of working with Rosalind. Even after Asra, when Nia thought it was too dangerous to keep pursuing her leads, he’d been adamant. She would’ve thought that after Dismas, after Rosalind’s lead pulling through more than ever before, he would be even more stubborn.

Tobias huffs a laugh. “I know. Just…”

It’s clear he doesn’t know how to articulate what he’s feeling. Likely wrestling with the fact that they’d almost died—again—as well as the more severe consequences they just barely sidestepped with the law.

Whatever made him change his mind, Nia isn’t going to argue. “I’m fine with that. That guy was almost as terrifying as Rosalind.”

Tobias makes a halfhearted attempt at a laugh.

———————————————————

Even now, surrounded by happy chatter and the tropical beauty of Kaleido Bay, that conversation weighs heavy as stone on Nia’s mind. She hates going against the rules, and she hates getting in trouble. She hates that they have a mark on their record now, and that they’ll have to face August’s disappointed gaze without being able to explain themselves. She hates that they’ll likely never know how their interference affected Jude. Grumpy as he was, she still didn’t want to get him in trouble.

They’re supposed to help people, not hurt them.

Nia sighs, wincing as the motion strains her ribs. Then she shakes her head to dispel the gloomy thoughts. They can’t do anything about it now. She’ll just have to make sure they don’t hurt anyone else in the future. Especially not for their own gain.

Nia and Tobias wander away from the craft merchant’s stall, strolling through the city and taking in the sights. The salty breeze is balanced out nicely by the midmorning sunshine, and the sky overhead is a deep blue that makes the surrounding ocean shimmer. The bright buildings and even brighter merchant stalls are eye-catching and cheery, making for the perfect distraction from anxious thoughts.

The Pokemon crowding past them are clearly in high spirits, too, chatting and laughing with one another as they shop. Families corral excited children who are grasping sweets in sticky paws, and friends nudge one another to point out their next destination. An adorable couple passes by them, linked arm in arm. Mid-conversation, the taller one dips to give the top of their partner’s head an affectionate nuzzle.

Nia smiles at the gesture, then looks at Tobias. To her surprise, he’s also watching the couple, brow furrowed. Nia tilts her head at him, and he quickly glances at her before looking away, face warming as he hurriedly points out the next stall.

It’s a familiar little shop, and Nia perks up. “Oh, the glassblowing shop! Can we look around for a bit? I didn’t really get the chance the other day.”

Tobias nods his agreement, and the two of them split up to peruse the wares carefully laid across the counter of the building’s wraparound stall.

Last time, a blue monkey Pokemon with long, curled hair atop her head had been behind the counter—a simipour, according to Tobias—but this time around the merchant is a stoic-looking fire type, though he too looks strikingly monkey-like. He’s orange like Tobias, with a long fire-tipped tail and intricate blue markings over his eyes. A monferno, Nia thinks.

Nia doesn’t pay him much mind, startled instead by the little blue monkey also flitting about behind the stand, pulling herself up to be able to see over the counter and talk to customers. She’s just a kid, clearly, but for a moment Nia feels a phantom pain on her upper arm, under where her scarf is tied. They’d fought a panpour once before—an outlaw—and for a moment seeing such similar features throws Nia for a loop.

But this panpour is much smaller, and the spitting image of the simipour Nia had spoken with days before. There’s none of the outlaw’s malice on her cheerful little face, and the blue of her fur is a darker hue than his.

Nia manages to pull her eyes away, instead focusing on the beautiful glassworks on the table in front of her, shining and sparkling in the sun. After a moment of hesitation, she dares to pick one up to see it more clearly.

It’s a Pokemon—a seahorse of some kind. Unlike the wonky proportions of the shell figurines they saw earlier, this statue is intentionally styled, the curves of it elegant and acting as a perfect balance to the sharp points of its frills.

Nia carefully puts the statue back, eyes scanning the pieces until she stops at one of the more abstract works. It’s the color that she notices first, a turquoise blue that matches Nia’s aura almost perfectly.

It’s shaped like a flame, or maybe a drop of water, with wisps of glass curving upwards and intertwining with one another. The thinner ends are almost transparent, and the thicker base has incredible depth, blue like springwater.

It’s gorgeous. Nia hesitates before picking it up in her hands, running a thumb over its smooth surface.

She really, really wants to buy it. Maybe she’s just a sucker for souvenirs, but it’s so well-crafted and it feels…personal, almost. Like it was made for her.

Nia examines the little price tag tied around it, frowning. She can afford it, surprisingly, but it would clear out her personal funds entirely. She doesn’t think she can justify spending that much. What if she needs that money later? Or what if Tobias needs it for something that his own funds or the team’s can’t cover?

Nia reluctantly puts the statue back down.

“Aw, I really like that one!”

Nia looks up, surprised to lock eyes with the little panpour. She has her arms crossed on the counter from the other side of the stall, a grin on her face.

“I helped Dad make that, y’know!” She adds, clearly proud.

Nia blinks, glancing over at the monferno. He’s on the other side of the stall and talking with Tobias, who actually seems to be responding willingly, if not a bit awkwardly. His arms are crossed over his chest but his expression is open and oddly attentive.

Man, Nia really wants to know what he could be talking about so happily with a stranger. Maybe he feels more comfortable because they’re both fire types?

But Nia has her own conversation partner.

She smiles at the little monkey. “It’s gorgeous. You did a great job on it!”

The panpour smiles wider, showing off sharp fangs. “I know! Is it just too expensive for you?”

Nia shrugs with a regretful smile. “A bit.”

The panpour doesn’t seem offended, thankfully, just nodding in response. “I’d ask Dad to give you a discount, but he’s real strict about that kind of stuff.”

“It’s a fair price,” a deeper voice calls, and both Nia and the panpour jump, looking over at the child’s father. The monferno is walking over to join their conversation, and he ruffles the poof of fur on the panpour’s head as she shrieks with laughter.

“I-It is!” Nia agrees. “I’m just a bit tight on money right now, unfortunately.”

Tobias trails around the stall after his fellow fire type, stopping at Nia’s side. He tilts his head, scanning the goods. “You wanted to buy something?”

Nia gestures at the blue flame-like statue with a smile. “Isn’t it pretty?”

Tobias picks it up, just as delicately as Nia had. “…It is. Good craftsmanship.”

“You didn’t answer before,” the monferno says gruffly, looking at Tobias. “You interested in glassblowing?”

To Nia’s surprise, Tobias hesitates. He glances at her, as if embarrassed, before nodding. “Couldn’t do it myself, but it’s impressive.”

“Why not?” the panpour chirps, pointing. “You’re a fire type. You have good hands for it.”

Tobias looks uncomfortable, shrugging. “Don’t have time to learn. I’m a Seeker.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to be a Seeker forever!” the panpour says brightly.

The monferno grunts in agreement. “You don’t have to make a career of it, either. Let me know if you’re ever interested in learning and I can help you get started.”

Nia blinks, surprised by the generous offer.

Tobias looks equally thrown. “Really?”

The monferno shrugs. “Sure. Not many fire types ‘round here for me to pass the craft on to. Just don’t go stealing my customers.”

Tobias laughs at that. “Don’t think I could even if I wanted to.”

“It’s all practice.”

Tobias hums, staring down at the glass piece. “I’ll…think about it.”

Tobias ignores the surprise that Nia knows is written all over her face. He idly looks at the glass flame’s price tag himself before putting the piece back on the table. He glances at Nia. “You ready to go?”

Nia’s eyes linger on the statue, but she shakes her head and smiles. “Yeah. Let’s go before I make an impulsive purchase.”

The two of them say goodbye to the merchant and his daughter, trailing farther down the street.

As soon as they’re sucked back into the crowd, away from prying ears, Nia looks at Tobias. “I bet you’d be good at it, you know. If you tried it.”

Tobias snorts. “Glassblowing?”

“Yeah! You’re already good at guitar. Like that girl said, you have the build for it.”

Tobias’ mouth twists. “…Let’s save the world before we start looking for new hobbies.”

Nia wilts. He does have a point.

Tobias frowns, looking her over. “You okay? We can take a break.”

Oh. He must think she’s getting tired. He isn’t wrong, per se—the constant ache in Nia’s ribs and the tense way she has to hold herself IS exhausting—but that wasn’t what she’d been thinking about.

But if he doesn’t mind…

“Could we rest? Just for a minute.”

Tobias nods, looking around before leading them to a little island of shade in the sea of sun. It’s cast by a large bush of flowers, taller than they are, and the little wall containing the plant is the perfect size for them to sit on. Nia eases herself down with a relieved sigh.

Tobias stares at her, brow furrowed. “You’re supposed to tell me when you need a break.”

Nia gives him a smile. “I don’t need a break. It’s just nice.”

Tobias rolls his eyes. “Well then tell me when it would be nice to have a break.”

Nia bites back a laugh. “Will do.”

Tobias nods, then leans against the wall as well, the two of them falling silent to people watch. Tobias fiddles absentmindedly with the satchel looped around his shoulder, sharp claws kneading the fabric like a cat. Adorable.

Minutes later, Tobias suddenly straightens up. “Hey, do you mind waiting here for a minute? I’m gonna, uh…go back and get that monferno’s name. Just in case.”

Nia blinks. “Oh! No, go ahead.”

Tobias nods, mumbling that he’ll be right back before slipping away into the crowd. Nia watches him go, relieved that he’s still thinking about the future and what might make him happy down the line. She’s been worried about that more than ever after his breakdown the other night.

Satisfied, Nia tilts her head back to close her eyes and enjoy the weather.

It doesn’t feel like long at all before Tobias returns, readjusting the satchel on his shoulder.

“Hey!” She greets. “Did you get his name?”

Tobias freezes. “Yeah. He’s, uh. Rico.”

Nia gives him a funny look. “You don’t sound super confident about that.”

Tobias doesn’t answer, instead looking her over. “You ready to walk again? We can wait here a while longer if not.”

Nia shakes her head, slowly getting to her feet. “No, I’m good. You sure you don’t want me to take the bag for a while?”

Tobias grabs the bag almost protectively, glaring at her. “You’re not carrying the bag when you have a cracked rib.”

Nia lifts her hands, palms out, in a peace offering. “Okay, okay! Don’t worry, I’m not gonna steal it from you.”

“Good.”

Nia shakes her head, smiling, and follows Tobias back into the thick of the market.

They spend the rest of the morning that way, drifting through town and browsing the shops. They even stop for lunch at a delightful little cafe with a clear view of the ocean.

By early afternoon, Nia is exhausted and more than ready to get off her feet. Tobias checks the sun’s positioning in the sky before leading them first across the bridge to shore, then along the hot sand of Kaleido Bay’s beach.

Finally, they reach the path they took when arriving here, where the sand meets firmer soil. A merchant cart awaits there, with a giant Clydesdale-like Pokemon the color of clay at its front and a kecleon checking the cart’s contents. Tobias pays the little chameleon for a ride back north, then leads the two of them to the back of the cart.

Tobias climbs in first, then helps Nia up into the cart. Nia sits as soon as she’s in, collapsing back against some bags of…grain? Rice? Whatever it is, the bumpy texture is welcome if it means she can lean back and relax her sore ribs.

Two other Pokemon, lone travelers by the look of them, also climb into the cart shortly after, giving Nia and Tobias a cordial nod before finding their own places to sit.

Tobias settles down next to Nia, eyeing the strangers for a moment before deeming them innocent enough for him to relax, too.

Nia doubts he’ll be able to sleep, though. After a moment of deliberation, and figuring that her worrywart of a partner would just tell her to take the chance to rest anyways, she tilts her head back against the bags to close her eyes.

Nia falls into a light doze, somewhere between asleep and awake. The bumpy movement of the cart as it starts up and travels along is strangely soothing, and must nudge her closer to Tobias, as warmth spreads through her side and the faint scent of her partner wreathes around her. He doesn’t protest, though, and the soundtrack of their journey—the faint rustle of the winds through dry grass, the rhythmic hoofsteps of the horse Pokemon pulling the cart, and the quiet conversation of the other travelers in the cart—becomes a wash of white noise.

Nia barely registers that any time has passed before she’s being nudged awake. She lifts her head, blinking against a haze of sleep. “Hm?”

“Time to get off,” Tobias says, looking amused.

Nia makes a quiet noise of protest, but doesn’t put up her usual fight since she knows the rest of the caravan is waiting on them.

Nia pushes herself to her feet, wincing when the motion pulls at her ribs. Yawning, she clumsily follows Tobias off the cart, accepting his help without a thought.

The trail back through the tall grass to the mesa in the distance seems both impossibly long and strangely short. Nia shakes off her clumsy, half-awake steps as she goes, needing to be alert for the climb up to the cliffside village.

It’s sunset when they finally arrive back at the gates to the human settlement.

Slate isn’t the one guarding the entrance this time. Instead, a bipedal yellow lizard Pokemon with a sun-like collar and black scales covering his head and neck greets them with easy familiarity. Nia remembers seeing him around the settlement a few times before she and Tobias left for Kaleido, so the lizard must recognize them in turn.

Even with her nap on the way here and the walk up the mesa, Nia is still trying to shake off the last dregs of sleep. So it takes a moment to register when a familiar voice yells at them from above.

“You’re back!”

Nia startles and looks up. Junie dives at her from the nearest rooftop like a tiny, feathery comet.

“Wait, don’t—!” Tobias shouts.

Even though some part of her knows it’s a bad idea, Nia can’t just not catch Junie. So she opens her arms, and Junie barrels into her, making Nia stumble back with a yelp. Tobias’ hands steady her.

“She’s hurt, you idiot!”

Junie immediately flails out of Nia’s arms to flutter in the air in front of them. “What?!”

“I’m fine,” Nia says, trying to smile instead of grimace as she straightens up. “My ribs are just a bit sore.”

Junie’s face falls. “I’m sorry, Nia! I should’ve checked first but I was just excited and—wait.”

Oh boy. Here it comes.

Junie looks between the two of them with angry suspicion, fluttering just a bit higher to be at eye-level. “You got hurt. I told you not to get hurt!”

Tobias sighs, arm still looped loosely around Nia’s back. “Our visit to the prison didn’t go as planned.”

“Ya think?! I swear, I can’t leave you two alone for a second! I was getting worried since you weren’t back yet and I knew you got into trouble, but I told myself, ‘No! It’s only been a couple of days! How could they possibly find trouble that quickly?’ Like a fluffy little—"

“Junie!” Nia says. “Breathe.”

Junie’s beak clicks shut.

Nia wordlessly holds out her arm as a perch, like a hawk handler she remembers seeing at the zoo when she was young.

Junie hesitates, but after a moments she settles on Nia’s arm, nearly weightless. Nia thinks she sees her feathers trembling.

“I’m okay,” Nia soothes.

“You’d better be,” Junie grumbles. But the words are weak, no bite behind them at all. She turns her glare on Tobias next. “You hurt too?”

“No.”

Nia frowns at him.

“Ugh, fine. It’s just my side. But it’s already mostly healed.”

Tobias lifts his arm to show where fresh bandages sit plastered across his side after Dismas snagged him with a claw.

Junie doesn’t look pleased by how casual he’s being. “You two are walking disasters, you know that? C’mon, let’s get you some food before you keel over.”

Junie flaps back into the air, giving them another quick scan as if to assure herself they’re in one piece. Then she nods and leads the way to the cafeteria.

“Well,” Nia says, giving Tobias a teasing smile. “She didn’t chew us out too badly.”

Tobias snorts. “Bold of you to assume she’s finished.”

Then he seems to realize all at once that he still has an arm wrapped around Nia’s back. He yanks himself away with a flush, muttering something about hurrying up before Junie comes back.

Nia chuckles, following her partner as he chases after their friend.

————————————————————

When they’re done eating and catching Junie up on their trip to Kaleido Bay—which did indeed include a second round of scolding—Nia is more than ready to go back to the inn and flop into a nest. She crosses her arms on the little table they’re seated at, easing herself into a slouch to rest her head and relax.

“So,” Tobias says, lowering his voice and ducking closer to Junie. “What’d we miss here the last few days?”

Junie chirps a laugh. “Nothing warranting that sort of tone, Mr. Suspicious. I was a little distracted by Asher, but I didn’t see anything obvious. Rosalind left soon after you two, and Will seems to be really into his research. Fidel just keeps the place running smoothly, as far as I can tell.”

Tobias slumps, clearly disappointed that his suspicions about Will still have no backing. Nia tries not to feel smug about that and doesn’t really succeed.

Junie opens her mouth to say something else, but her eyes flick past Nia and Tobias, towards the door of the establishment. “Well, speak of the devil. Or his dog, at least.”

Nia looks over her shoulder, immediately spotting the tall figure of Fidel. The zoroark is standing in the open doorway of the building and clearly looking around for someone.

His ears perk when he catches sight of the three of them. He weaves between other tables and patrons to reach their side.

“Good to see you two made it back safely,” Fidel says with a warm smile.

“Mostly safe,” Junie corrects with a dry look.

“Good to see you too, Fidel,” Nia says, pushing past another scolding with a smile. “You looking for someone?”

“You three, actually,” Fidel chuckles. “I heard that you and Tobias had returned, so I thought I’d let you know personally that Will has some information to help with your search for Xerneas. However, since it’s getting late, you’re more than welcome to wait until morning and get some rest first.”

Nia blinks, exchanging a surprised look with Tobias. She honestly hadn’t expected Will’s team to find anything in…what? Two days? Three? And she is awfully tired, but…

Well, the thought that they could get some answers or at least a little direction before bed is a nice one.

Both Tobias and Junie look to Nia to make the decision, seeing as she’s the most injured and in need of rest.

“Let’s go ahead and meet tonight,” Nia says, slipping out of her seat and stretching carefully. “I’m just going to be thinking about it all night anyways if I go to bed now.”

“I’m sure Will will be pleased to see you,” Fidel says with a smile. “He can be impatient when he wants to get something done.”

And with that, Fidel steps back and waits for the three of them to gather their crumbs and trays into a tidy tower on the table before leading them outside.

Junie, apparently deeming Nia too injured to act as her usual perch, instead settles on the satchel at Tobias’ hip. He glares down at her, but doesn’t try to push her off, so she wiggles into her spot with a smug fluff of her feathers.

Nia bites back a smile and soaks in the easy atmosphere of the settlement as the Pokemon—the humans—around them go about their evening.

Fidel leads their group back through the same building as before, down the electric-lit tunnel and to the quarters hidden within the cliffside. It’s cooler here, a slight dampness to the air and to the stone underfoot.

Will is alone this time, sitting at the table with a few sheets of paper in one hand and a cup of something hot and steaming—tea, Nia thinks, by the scent—in the other.

He looks up when they enter, red eyes brightening. “Ah, welcome back! I see Fidel found you all. How was your trip to Kaleido?”

Nia grimaces, making a so-so gesture with her hand before glancing at Tobias.

Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t look eager to share. He crosses his arms. “Fine.”

There’s an awkward beat of silence after that.

When it’s clear Tobias won’t be elaborating, Will claps his hands to move them along. “Well, I for one am happy to see you back safe and sound. I’m sure you’re tired, so I’ll cut to the chase. Fidel told you that we’ve made some progress on our research?”

Will gestures for them to sit, so they all gather once more around the stone table. Nia has to ease herself onto the stool, and she waves off Fidel’s concerned look.

“So whatcha find out?” Junie asks with a tilt of her head.

Will gathers up the papers in his hands, splaying them out in front of him. Nia leans forward to read them herself, but the scribbled notes—written in more than one handwriting—are tough to parse, especially upside-down.

“While we don’t have anything like exact coordinates, we do have a better idea of where Xerneas may have decided to rest.” Will points at a particular block of text, written in a hurried scrawl. “We confirmed first that her proximity is indeed close to Yveltal, which we expected considering that the two of them are so intertwined in legend.”

“They are likely sleeping within sight of each other,” Fidel adds. “Almost certainly on the same continent.”

“Great,” Tobias says, voice heavy with sarcasm. “But we don’t have time to search entire continents.“

Will smiles, a gleam in his eye. “True, but I’m not finished quite yet.”

He flips through his papers again until he finds what he’s looking for.

“Here! Xerneas and Yveltal always choose different locations for each sleep cycle, but the environments where they rest always tie into their natural roles.”

“Meaning..?” Nia prompts.

“Meaning that while Yveltal would likely settle somewhere barren of life—a harsh environment with few plants or Pokemon—Xerneas would likely settle down in a very different kind of environment: somewhere absolutely teeming with life energy.”

“Xerneas disperses life energy into the world when she wakes,” Fidel elaborates. “In order to prepare for that moment, she needs to feed on the ambient life energy around her as she sleeps. Yveltal, however, consumes life energy when he wakes, so he needs a barren environment to empty those stores of energy into when he falls into sleep. The two of them are push and pull, like the tides. You need both to keep this world in balance.”

“Even more astonishing,” Will adds. “Both of them can tap directly into this life energy as if it were one connected system. A great tapestry made up of every living thing, from plants and Pokemon to the fabric of this dimension itself—which is likely why Giratina is hoping Xerneas can prevent or at least heal the break in the dimensional border. With their power, Xerneas and Yveltal can restore energy where it is lacking, and remove energy where there is an excess.”

Nia nods slowly, trying to take all of that in.

“So they can both just…feel all of the life energy, everywhere?” Junie asks, uncertain. “Like, all of it in the world? Even us?”

Fidel hums. “It’s said that all life energy in the world is intertwined, in a way, so yes. I have no idea how, or how the legends access it, though.” He gives Nia a brief smile. “You’d have to ask one of them yourself, or one of the Pokemon more attuned to life energy, such as the lucario and riolu.”

Nia blinks, leaning back as all eyes turn to her. “Don’t look at me! I can see the aura of other Pokemon, but I can’t do anything like that!”

“Have you ever tried?” Will asks, looking at Nia thoughtfully.

“W-What do you mean?”

“Tried tapping into the life energy outside of other beings,” Will clarifies. “Plants. The dimensional border. It would be fascinating to learn how deep your aura powers go.”

Nia won’t deny that the idea does pique her curiosity, but it sounds much too powerful an ability for her to have in reach.

…Then again, Nia hasn’t ever tried looking for life energy outside of other people, and she certainly hasn’t tried anything like Xerneas and Yveltal seem to be able to do. Affecting that greater tapestry of aura threaded throughout the world. Adding to it, or taking it away. Interacting with it directly.

It all sounds kind of overwhelming. Maybe that’s something she can look into later, when she’s back at the guild with Avery and Val.

“Okay, put the aura experiments on hold for a minute,” Tobias sighs. “Right now, we have to focus on the mission. We know Xerneas will settle somewhere lush, and Yveltal will hibernate somewhere barren. That doesn’t narrow it down much.”

He has a point, unfortunately. If that’s all they have to go on, the duo could be anywhere. Xerneas could be resting in a forest, or under a field, or within a coral reef. She might even be sleeping below a city. Yveltal, likewise, could be sleeping in the desert, or the arctic, or even on the ocean floor. There are endless locations that would fit the bill for both.

Will’s excitement dampens. “You’re correct, unfortunately. We do have one other clue at the moment, but I’m not sure it’s of any help.”

“What is it?”

Will flips through his papers again, frowning. “Yveltal apparently cocoons himself in a very peculiar kind of crystal when he hibernates. Sometimes it can crop up in excess in the environment around him, giving a hint of his presence. However, if those crystals have yet to be discovered anywhere, then…”

Then they’re out of luck.

Still, as silence falls over all of them, Nia frowns. Something about that phrasing—strange crystals—tickles at her brain. Where has she heard something about that before? Recently, even?

It takes a moment, but then it hits her.

“Carnelian!” She gasps, hands smacking the tabletop. She looks at Tobias. “Didn’t Carnelian say he was called to investigate some weird crystals under the Silenfroar mountains?”

Tobias’ brow furrows, and Nia can tell it takes him a moment to place the name of the sableye they’d saved, when they were stranded in that dungeon with the crew of the Aqua Jet.

Then his face falls slack with surprise. “He did.“

“The Silenfroar range could certainly be considered barren of life,” Will murmurs, glancing at Fidel for confirmation. “It’s a very harsh, snowy land, yes?”

“Our guildmaster trained in a village on top of those mountains,” Tobias protests. “Pokemon live there.”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean Yveltal couldn’t still be nearby,” Fidel says. “He destroys life energy, but that doesn’t mean someone would die from living near his resting place. Just that anything more fragile, such as plants, likely couldn’t grow in the area. Which wouldn’t stand out as strange in such a desolate environment.”

“So you think there’s a good chance Yveltal could be there?” Nia asks.

Fidel nods. “Likely inside one of the mountains, if he’s stayed hidden for so long.”

“So if we assume Yveltal is in the mountains somewhere, we should be able to limit our search for Xerneas to the areas around Silenfroar, right?” Tobias asks.

Will shakes his head. “No, we shouldn’t just assume we can use the mountains as a starting point. We can’t afford to be wrong and waste time searching the areas nearby when we know we have to be efficient about all of this. We’re on a time limit.”

“But how can we know for sure that Yveltal is actually there?” Junie asks.

“Simple,” Will says with a smile. “We check for ourselves. If we can confirm Yveltal’s presence in the mountains, then we can use Silenfroar as the anchor point in our search for Xerneas with full confidence.”

That does make sense. The world is on a time limit, so they can’t afford to be looking in the wrong area only to never find the legendary because Xerneas is somewhere else entirely.

“So does that mean we need to go to the Silenfroar mountains?” Nia asks, looking to Tobias.

“I would prefer to look into this myself,” Tobias admits. “But I don’t know if we’d be the best choice for that. We aren’t the fastest Seekers in the guild, so August might decide to send someone else.”

“Like a flying type?” Junie asks with a tilt of her head.

“Normally that would be the fastest option,” Tobias agrees. “But I know the Lexym mail ‘mon can’t deliver anywhere in the mountain range because the air is too frigid for flight. Prone to blizzards and avalanches, too. So August would probably have to send a land ‘mon.”

“There are a lot of grass and bug types at the guild, though,” Nia says. “We would at least have an advantage in the snow, right?”

Tobias’ muzzle wrinkles as if he disagrees with that sentiment, but he nods all the same.

“Stop by your guild first and see if you can convince your guildmaster,” Will says, flipping through his papers. “I would prefer to work with ‘mon I know I can trust on this. On that matter—Fidel?”

The zoroark straightens to attention.

“Could you accompany Team Scarlet to Silenfroar to look into this? I’m sure they could use a helping hand, and there’s no one I trust more.”

Nia expects Fidel to agree instantly after how loyal he’s proven to be, but instead he falters, looking torn. He glances at the tunnel leading back outside. “I wouldn’t mind, but…”

“You know we’ll take good care of Asher in your absence,” Will says, giving Fidel a soothing smile. “Please, Fidel. I need someone to give me the news right away once Nia and Tobias return to their guild, and there’s no one I trust more with the job.”

Fidel still looks reluctant, but he forces a smile and a nod. “Of course. I’ll talk to Asher.”

“Good.” Will nods and looks back to Nia and Tobias. “Fidel will accompany you two for the time being.”

“We didn’t ask for an escort,” Tobias growls, crossing his arms and glaring at Will.

“Tobias,” Nia sighs. “C’mon, you just said it’s going to be a rough trip. We need all the help we can get.”

Tobias clearly isn’t convinced, but he relents under Nia’s pleading expression. “Fine.”

“Does that mean I can come too?” Junie pipes up.

Everyone turns to her, surprised.

She chirps a laugh. “C’mon, you can’t expect me to sit out on saving the world! Bo will understand.”

Nia exchanges an uncertain look with Tobias. “It…might be dangerous, Junie.”

Junie scoffs. “Duh! That’s why I’ve gotta come along! Look at what happens to you two when I’m not there to keep you out of trouble.”

She gestures at Nia’s ribs and Tobias’ bandaged side.

Oh. She’s worried about them. Of course she is, after hearing about their fight with Dismas.

Nia softens, glancing at Tobias. “What do you think?”

Tobias shrugs. “Whatever. Just don’t complain when it’s freezing cold in the mountains.”

“That’s what I’ve got you for!” Junie chirps. “You’ll be my walking heating pad.”

Tobias rolls his eyes, but doesn’t push any further.

“Good. Now that that’s settled,” Will says, hands clasped as he looks between them. “Be careful if you do find Yveltal. Do not under any circumstance wake him, as he could go on a rampage if he’s roused early and Xerneas isn’t awake to calm him. Just confirm his presence or the lack thereof, then report back as soon as possible.”

Everyone around the table, even Tobias, gives a solemn nod.

“I suppose we should leave first thing in the morning, then?” Fidel asks.

Will gives him a sympathetic smile. “Time is of the essence, old friend, so yes. I’ll send one of our night fliers to the nearest travel outpost right away to hire flight ‘mon for the trip. It’ll be much quicker if you can leave directly from the settlement in the morning.”

Fidel nods. “Understood.” He turns to the Nia, Tobias, and Junie. “Rest up tonight at the inn, and be ready to go by dawn. Make sure to eat breakfast before we depart.”

“Yes, Dad,” Junie jokes under her breath. Nia bites back a smile.

“Then you’re all dismissed,” Will says. “Good luck and stay safe.”

Fidel murmurs his thanks and hurries out of the room, likely to find Asher. Nia and Junie give their own thanks before getting up to leave, too.

Tobias groans as he stands. “Guess we need to see if there are any winter cloaks in our size at the guild. We can’t go somewhere so harsh without protection.”

“Oh! No need for that,” Will says, catching them before they get too far. He gives their surprised looks a smile. “Our seamstress here in town already has some snow gear prepared for the coming winter. She’s likely still in the shop if you want to stop by yet tonight. Feel free to grab whatever you think you’ll need, free of charge.”

Nia blinks. “Oh! Are you sure? That’s awfully generous.”

Will waves them off. “Of course, of course! You three are working to save the world—I think we can spare a few coats and scarves for that. Besides, Florence knows she’ll always be properly compensated for her work.”

Nia glances at Tobias and Junie. Tobias doesn’t look thrilled about being indebted to Will in any way, but he doesn’t argue. Junie, on the other hand, chirps a happy, “Thanks!”

The three of them head outside, and Nia takes a breath of crisp evening air, feeling a pang of longing when she catches the smoky scent of the settlement’s fire pits and hears the distant sound of the band they’d listened to the other night. She wishes they could’ve stayed here just a bit longer, but unfortunately the end of the world waits for no one.

Tobias starts walking. “C’mon. Let’s get this over with before the shop closes for the night.”

Oh, right. Clothes! Nia perks up, and she can see her own excitement reflected in Junie’s eyes.

“Shopping trip!” Junie crows, pulling ahead of Tobias and drawing looks from a few passing ‘mon.

“Shopping trip!” Nia echoes, much quieter but no less eager.

“Shopping trip,” Tobias monotones, with all the excitement of someone about to be tortured.

Nia giggles as Junie cackles, the three of them quickly tracking down the tailor shop they’d seen in the days before.

Warm light spills from the windows, the lack of flicker telling Nia that this building must be one of the few with electric lighting, like the tunnels. When they head inside, a bell jingles overhead to announce their arrival.

Nia’s eyes jump immediately to the colorful swathes of clothing crowding the large room. Some clothes are hung on horizontal wooden poles like makeshift store racks, little islands of fabric with just enough space between them to act as cramped walkways. Other clothes line shelves and closet-like alcoves set into the walls.

Everything seems to be roughly organized by size, a rack of clothes along the left wall boasting cloaks and dresses and robes long enough to be curtains, though they’d probably fit Maggie or August well. Conversely, racks on the right side of the room look more like baby clothes or pet outfits, some even tiny enough for Junie’s small frame.

Accessories, jewelry, and even shoes are also shelved here and there between clothes and near the register.

While it’s immediately clear that the fabric options aren’t as diverse as Nia is used to, with nothing plastic or synthetic in sight, there is an impressive variety of styles and colors. It almost feels like Nia’s back in the human world again, shopping with her mom or Toni.

Nia swallows back a sudden surge of longing, and tries to focus instead on the good feelings the shop’s familiarity brings.

“Hello.”

A Pokemon, presumably the Florence that Will had mentioned, is looking at them from the front desk. She’s a tall black Pokemon with white ribbonlike adornments atop her head and chest. She has a pouty purple face and pale blue eyes framed by hair-like disks on either side of her head. She reminds Nia of a particular style of fashion from the human world, one she thinks was popular in Japan.

Regardless, the Pokemon has a long piece of fabric laid across the counter she’s sitting at, one end of it held carefully in her hand. A threaded needle floats in the air just above the piece of cloth, surrounded by the purple glow of psychic energy.

“We’re closing soon,” Florence says, going back to her work. Her needle moves with confident, elegant movements, dipping in and out of the fabric. “But you can take a look around if you’re quick.”

“We’re here on Will’s orders,” Tobias says, eyeing the contents of the shop like they’ll bite him. “We need snow gear fit for the mountains.”

The needle stops sewing for a moment as Florence glances up at them again. But then she shrugs and goes back to her work. “I’ve got a few pieces that would fit you three in the back section. Check there.”

Tobias nods, apparently not bothered by Florence’s less-than-social behavior, and leads the way through the shop. Junie hops from rack to rack above their heads, starry-eyed as she looks around like a kid in a candy store.

Nia can relate to the feeling. While the impressive craftsmanship and the sheer number of pieces in the shop would be thrilling enough on their own, some part of Nia is also excited by the idea of wearing clothing again, weirdly enough. She’s long since gotten past the embarrassment of being “naked,” as long as she doesn’t think about it too hard, but there’s something distinctly human about clothing that she’s eager to reclaim.

Tobias finally stops in front of a rack of clothing made for Pokemon around their size. He quickly pushes through summery shawls, skirts and robes to reach the smaller selection of winter clothing at the end. He flips through the thick fabrics for a moment, skimming past clothing clearly made for quadrupeds, and stops at a deep navy cloak that hangs heavily on its makeshift hanger. After looking it over for a moment, he pulls it free, draws it around his shoulders to check the fit, and flips the hood over his head. It doesn’t drag on the floor, and it seems to sit comfortably around his shoulders and tail.

It looks nice on him, too, the dark tone complimenting his bright orange skin and cool blue eyes.

Tobias nods and pulls it off, draping it over his arm. “Done.”

Nia blinks. “Just like that?” She glances at the nearby floor-length mirror, slightly less smooth than human mirrors but effective enough. It must’ve cost a fortune, rare as mirrorstone seems to be in this world. “You don’t want to see how it looks or anything before deciding?”

Tobias raises a brow. “Why would that matter? It’s heavy enough and it fits. Does it look stupid or something?”

“N-No! It looks nice on you,” Nia assures. “It goes well with your eyes, actually.”

Tobias blinks, clearly surprised. Slowly, a flush spreads across his cheeks and nose.

Junie snrrks a laugh from atop a nearby rack of clothes. “Well, if Nia thinks it looks good, that’s all that matters, right?”

Nia frowns up at her. “Don’t you think it looks nice?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Junie assures, waving her off with a wing. “Looks great. Now if you need me, I’ll be looking at the little chihuahua-sized stuff over here.”

Junie hops a few racks over, where notably tiny clothes are hung, and starts picking through them to find something for herself.

Tobias is strangely quiet after Junie’s cryptic comment. He holds his cloak closer and shuffles over to look through some knit hats instead of commenting.

Nia’s shakes her head and takes Tobias’ place, looking through the small selection of snow clothes. There are a few cloaks like Tobias’, and she can imagine he chose that option because it’s what he’s used to. Less restrictive than most human-styled clothes.

Nia can’t help being drawn to the more coat-like options, though, with sleeves and a line of buttons down the front. She feels strangely nostalgic as she runs her fingers over soft, thick fabric stuffed with down.

How difficult was it for the seamstress to adapt to working with these kinds of materials? Is it hard to make thick, hide-like cloth without animal pelts or plastic? What about the downy feathers stuffing the coat, which would’ve had to have come from a Pokemon? Molting feathers, maybe.

Nia’s musings stop when she comes across a cream-colored coat, with adorable charcoal buttons off to the side and large pockets. It has a heavy hood, too, with little slots in the fabric for ears.

Nia pulls it off the rack and slips it on, pleased to find that other than the sleeves being a bit long, it fits perfectly, snug and warm.

“What do you think?” Nia asks, stepping back and giving a little spin.

Junie, struggling into something like a winter vest with a disgruntled Tobias’ help, stops to look. She lights up. “You look adorable! Don’t you think so, Toby?”

Tobias spares Nia a glance, face reddening again before he looks back at Junie, yanking her into the vest a little rougher than necessary. “It’s fine. Is it warm?”

Oh. Nia actually feels a little disappointed by his lackluster answer, for some reason. But at least Junie likes it.

Nia nods, moving to look at herself in the mirror, pleased by the coat’s color against her fur. “It’s really warm! I’m still gonna grab a hat and scarf, though. Tobias, do you need a set?”

Tobias grunts an affirmative. “Probably. Didn’t get a chance to grab anything else before this little idiot recruited me.”

“Hey! Excuse me for never dressing as a bird before. I don’t have hands, Toby—it’s hard!”

Nia chuckles as she picks out a matching hat and scarf set for both herself and Tobias. A deep scarlet combo for herself, and a cream set the same color as her coat for Tobias. That way, they’ll still look like a team even when they’re all bundled up.

From there, it takes twice as long as it did for Nia and Tobias to get Junie’s snow gear figured out, mostly because she has to consider her wings. Eventually, though, they manage to stuff her into a combined snow vest and cloak, and she seems pleased by the slits on the sides of the vest that allow her to slip her wings through to fly, while the cloak sitting on top of her wings should still keep her warm when she’s on the ground.

Junie, of course, picks a bright yellow hue from the few color options available, which makes her stand out like a sore thumb in the shop’s dim light.

Tobias looks so tired. “Is that really the color you’re going with?”

“It is a little bright,” Nia admits with a smile. “But I like it.”

“It’s your favorite color. Of course you like it,” Tobias huffs. “I think she looks like a combee.”

Nia blinks, surprised and delighted that Tobias remembered that little fact about her.

“Yep, this one’s good,” Junie confirms, looking smug that her choice has the bonus factor of annoying Tobias. “Now help me get back out of it. I’ve still gotta grab an itty-bitty hat and scarf before we leave.”

They manage to untangle Junie from her outfit and find a hat and scarf that she approves of, which are of course dyed an obnoxious pink color. At this point, Nia is pretty sure she’s picking such bright hues just to annoy Tobias.

Tobias, likely catching on to her game, steadfastly refuses to comment.

The seamstress doesn’t give them any trouble about payment, luckily, and even hands them a thin fabric sack to carry everything in. Nia makes sure to thank her before they leave, taking the bag and swinging it as they walk out of the shop and back to the inn.

They’d fallen into a comfortable quiet as they left the shop, but Junie speaks up now from where she’s nestled between the top of their satchel and Tobias’ side. Her voice is unusually quiet.

“Hey, Nia?”

Nia’s worried by the bird’s suddenly downcast expression. “What’s up?”

“Could you help me write a letter to Bo when we get back to the inn? Since Will’s having our ride come here, I won’t get to see the big guy before we go to your guild. I don’t want him to freak out when I don’t come back home after a few days.”

Oh, Nia hadn’t thought about that. The skarmory would be beside himself if Junie didn’t return when she said she would, and Nia has no idea how long Junie will be with them at the guild while they try to track down Xerneas.

Nia feels a stab of guilt for involving Junie in all this, despite her insisting on tagging along.

“Of course, Junie. Are you still sure you want to come with us? N-Not that I don’t want you there, but…”

Junie actually seems to consider backing out for a moment, but then she shakes her head, giving Nia a smile that falls flat.

“No, I wanna go. Someone has to keep an eye on you two, and saving the world should be fun. I just…don’t want him to worry, y’know?”

Nia gets it. She nods. “Yeah. Let’s write that as soon as we get back, okay? We can mail it off tomorrow before we leave.”

Junie looks relieved. “Thanks, Nia. You’re the best.”

Nia smiles, and Junie moves the conversation onto lighter topics, rambling about what tips she might learn from the flight ‘mon during their trip tomorrow.

They’ve got an early morning ahead of them, but Nia thinks they’re ready for it.

[arandomaquarius]

Kay so before I get into this rant I just wanna say that I’m definitely back on my bullshit again and to take this post with a grain of salt lmao it’s late and insomnia has struck once again warnings in tags

So! I want to point out something I’ve noticed in Transformers: Prime. Specifically about Knock Out and his relationship with Megatron and Starscream. Specifically about the abuse he endured on the Nemesis.

Now, it’s common knowledge that Megatron was physically abusive towards Starscream. However, I’ve seen a few fan made things saying that he was abusive towards Knock Out. Now while we have canonical proof of this in the case of Starscream, we do not have any for Knock Out. The closest thing we get is that one scene where Megatron picks Knock Out up from underneath his chassis (much like you would pick someone up by their shirt). But that happened when dark energon was coursing through his body, changing his actions and thought patterns. There was also the time that he shot at Knock Out after he retrieved the shield, but I’m not sure if that counts. Otherwise, Megatron never laid a servo on Knock Out (as far as I can remember right now.)

Of course, physical abuse isn’t just hitting someone. It’s using your body to threaten and intimidate another being or to make them feel inferior. There are many examples of Megatron doing this to all of his troops (save the Waves and Predaking). So as for that part of being physically abusive, Megatron fits the bill!

The type of abuse that Megatron uses the most is verbal abuse. The demeaning remarks, the intentional mentions of past events that have clearly left a mental mark, insults, threats, everything. He is degrading Knock Out (because this post is mostly about Knock Out not Screamer sorry Screamer enjoyers) with his comments and he knows it. He’s doing it on purpose, and that’s what makes it abuse. This is a very common type of abuse, despite the media focusing on physical abuse the most. Megatron never lays a servo on KO, but his words do enough.

Starscream, however, does both. He insults and demeans Knock Out the first episode he appears in! He obviously learned this abusive behavior from Megatron after serving under him for so long, but he ramps it up. The way Starscream gets in KO’s personal space; the way he used the spark extractor to scare him more than once; the time he hurt Knock Out after he street raced; when he hit KO after the Omega Lock got destroyed; how he threatened him in Thirst; and more that I’ve probably missed.

Point is, out of the two, Megatron has treated Knock Out better. Starscream has been more manipulative and abusive towards him than Megatron was. Megatron very rarely got physical, while Starscream didn’t hesitate to get in Knock Out’s face and use his (not by a lot) superior height to intimidate and threaten him. Megatron made snide remarks and brought up painful reminders, and he was abusive in this way, but not really physically. And I say really because he was still shit, but he didn’t physically hurt KO as much as Starscream did.

This is important for their dynamics because Knock Out kept aligning himself with Starscream when it came to betraying Megatron. Despite Megatron not being as physical as Starscream. I dunno if it was ever explained why Knock Out did this, but I do know that abusive relationships are difficult to get out of and that many stay because it is familiar and they believe that they deserve it. I don’t think KO thinks he deserves all the pain he gets from Starscream: he just doesn’t strike me as that mech. However, I think Knock Out was comfortable where he was and felt he could correctly gauge whether or not he was in enough danger that he would need to leave the safety of the Decepticon ranks. The Decepticons were in control of the energon supply, therefore the winning team and where Knock Out was safest and most comfortable. He likes luxury, so it was a no brainer for him: security, a place to keep up his finish, and plenty of energon; or no security, no way to keep his finish flawless, and barely any energon?

Anyways, all this to say that Knock Out suffered abuse at the hands of Starscream and Megatron, although Megatron’s was less severe than Starscream’s. We need to talk about it more and acknowledge that Starscream, while being an abuse victim, is also an abuser. You can be both. Just because you are/were abused doesn’t excuse you if you are also abusive. Knock Out could have continued this cycle, but he didn’t. And as far as I’m concerned, post-Predacons Rising Knock Out is living his best goddamn life on Cybertron.

thanks for coming to my Ted talk! If you have any additions, feel free to add them

[blackjackkent]

Camp scene with Lae'zel was sweet enough as far as it goes:

"It is not in a githyanki's nature to say 'thank you'. Our language doesn't even have a phrase for it. Chraith'kan zharn is the closest equivalent I know - 'May your enemies know agony.' But after releasing me from Orin's grip, there is only one proper response: Thank you. Sincerely."

"You're welcome."

"Ah, hm. Well. Good then. Let's carry on."

It was kind of cute - she approved and got a little bit flustered and awkward about it. But - realistically, the game can't offer me an actual scene that matches my specific Hector headcanons.

And I think there's a far more interesting way this reunion could play out. >:)

-----

There's a flicker of some magic dispelled as Hector unlocks the chains binding her to the altar; in a flash, Lae'zel's eyes are open and she is up off the stone, rocketing backwards away from him and the others. Gauging the situation in a quick sweep of her eyes, she comes up with a sword off the body of one of the dead cultists and has it up in both hands, warding off an attack that does not come.

Hector goes utterly still, both hands spread at his sides.

Silence. She stares at him with a baffled, hunted look; the point of the sword trembles minutely, then steadies as she redoubles her grip. "Hector?" she rasps.

He nods slowly. "It's me. It's all right--"

Even barely conscious, she moves like lightning - a sudden dart forward this time. He's weakened from the fight with Orin and not expecting the blow, which cuffs the hilt of the sword across his jaw with an impact that makes his ears ring. Her free hand grabs him by the collar and pulls him in a throw he's almost certain she learned from watching him fight; the momentum flips him up and over her hip and lands him in her place on the altar.

She kneels over him, the blade at his throat, her eyes full of blind rage and tortured pain.

"Is it not enough?" she snarls. "Is it not enough that you have tormented me, all these days, that you now appear before me wearing his face? Do you think me such a fool?" The cold metal presses over his jugular. "It is you who are foolish, Orin, to open my chains and think I would stay my hand on a mere pretense."

"Stop--" he hears Karlach shout.

"Stay back, doppelganger," Lae'zel barks without looking up. "One further step and I shall sever your queen's head from her body." She leans forward; Hector can feel the heat of her breath on his cheek as she hisses in his face.

"Cease your blaspheming of my friend's image, shka'keth. I would see your true eyes before I open your throat."

"Lae'zel--" he gasps out. "It's me! Orin's dead! It's me-- I promise you--"

She freezes. Her head draws back; the pressure of the blade eases just slightly. "So many days I have waited," she mutters. "I swore to myself I would not be weak when the moment came..."

"It's me." Hector's eyes flick wildly around the room as he grasps for some way to prove it. "You-- we met on the nautiloid. You thought I was a thrall. We escaped, we crashed... we found you in a cage with the tieflings... Shadowheart didn't let you forget it for weeks..." His breath catches on a slight, hysterical laugh without any humor. "The creche... you took me there, we saw through Vlaakith's lies together... we traveled in the shadows and you told me of the light of the Astral Sea..."

He feels, to his shame, that his voice is starting to shake, to crack-- the battle exhausted all his control and he barely has the strength to think, and seeing her staring at him with such fury, after all he has done to try and reach her, feels like a last brutal blow struck by Orin from beyond the veil.

"Ch'mar zal'a Orpheus," he mutters shakily, parroting the words he has heard her mutter in camp. "You opened your mind to me when you made your choice to turn away from Vlaakith... you trusted me then, please trust me now..."

She draws a sharp breath in; her eyes narrow. His words are breaking through the haze, bit by bit, a little of the mad rage starting to fade. Her head jerks and he feels the familiar prod of the tadpole connection in his mind, his parasite squirming in answer to hers. For the first time he can recall, he is desperately grateful for that connection, for the proof it offers.

Images begin to flash between them, a thousand upon a thousand memories of their shared struggle. He groans, his eyes rolling back in his head. "You almost broke my jaw, that night in camp, and said perhaps our pain would bleed out of our wounds..." he whispers. "It hasn't yet, but I have hope... put the blade down, Lae'zel, please... it's me..."

She draws back. The sword slips from her fingers, clattering onto the stone next to the altar.

"Kaincha..." she mutters. "You speak truth..."

He sits up slowly, rubbing involuntarily at his neck where the blade pressed. "Have I ever lied to you?" he asks softly.

Her shoulders are rigid, her whole body taut, and he can see that every bit of her strength is going into preventing her from trembling. "She came in so many faces. Every one familiar. Every one a mockery. I came to doubt my own eyes..."

"It's all right," he answers gently. "It's done with now."

He's dimly aware that Karlach has come up next to him, that one of her hands is resting on his shoulder, that she is bent forward on the balls of her feet in a protective aspect, ready to strike should Lae'zel show any further sign of violence. But the fight has gone out of the githyanki warrior now; with the moment of adrenaline gone, she looks beaten and exhausted. Ashamed.

He considers a moment, then deliberately pitches his voice a little slower - a sharper snap, like those he heard from the githyanki at Y'llek.

"The way out is clear," he tells her firmly. "Go back to camp. Rest. We'll talk when I return."

She blinks - and he sees a flash of something like relief through her eyes at having an order to follow. "Yes," she agrees with a crisp nod, standing at once. "I will wait there." She turns, looks around the bloody atrium as if fully registering it for the first time.

A slight pause, and then she adds, "I should offer my gratitude. But there are no words with which I was trained to express it. You came through fire for me, and I answered you with a blade."

"Thank you is enough," Hector says; a slight smile tugs at his lips.

She snorts softly. "Hm. Thank you, then," she mutters. "It is... insufficient, as is much in your barbaric tongue. But it will do for now."

Without another word, she stalks up the gore-slicked stairs towards the sewers.

They all watch her go, and then Hector groans softly and lets himself fall back to lie on the altar again, staring up at the vaulted ceiling. Karlach's face drifts into view as she leans over him.

"Same old Lae'zel, eh?" she says dryly. "Gods, I'd give her a thrashing for threatening you like that, if I wasn't so glad to see her."

"She was afraid," Hector says absently. "And I don't blame her for it."

Jaheira sits down on the edge of the altar with a weary sigh. "There are none of us, I think, who have not done something foolish in the name of fear." A smile flickers across her face. "That said, had she injured you, we would have made her feel it."

He shakes his head. "It's all right," he says firmly. "The Chosen are dead, finally, and we've stood against all their machinations; the last thing we need is to start tearing ourselves apart now. She's back with us. That's enough."

[godgrownstar]

chronic, stress & mind for miwa, chaos, rey, meyrin (you don't have to do all if you don't want to!!)

I did them all.

chronic: does my muse have any chronic health conditions / illnesses? how do these affect them from day-to-day? 

Miwa is fortunate enough to not have any lasting consequences from Ashoka accelerating her growth. Due to her connection with various Mir, she's at least in part protected from the Assimilation phenomenon as well.

Chaos is very similar, having only escaped the complications of a puppet controlled by a Mir due to Malespero's fondness for him.

Rey, on the other hand is not so fortunate. Being a clone, he suffers from near-constant and severe pain. While the medicine given to him by the Chairman does help prevent it, if he forgets, or should he experience extreme stress....

Because of this, he needs to keep his medicine on hand whenever possible, being a soldier and a mobile suit pilot makes this difficult, though, and he is sometimes caught in situations where he does now have access to it.

Because Rey's condition is caused by him being a clone, something which is considered taboo in the Earth Sphere, unless the Chairman (or somebody else who knows about his condition) is able to find some sort of "cure," he will likely die young.

Meyrin does not have any specific health conditions, but her physical health is often affected by her mental health, leading her to occasionally neglect her health at best, or cause herself direct harm at worse.

stress: does my muse handle stress well? what is a surefire sign for others to tell that they’ve become stressed? how does stress affect them mentally / physically? 

Miwa handles extreme stress about how you would expect somebody like her to. She ignores it until it becomes unbearable, and then she hides in her room or cries until she feels like she can go back to playing the hero.

If Miwa is curled up in her room with her stuffed bear - something only her family has seen - then she's reached the point where she's no longer able to be strong for everyone else.

Because Miwa is much younger than she actually looks and acts - a result of Ashoka's interference - she seems to 'regress' to her actual age when in these situations.

Chaos doesn't often show stress if he even experiences it. It's likely that Malespero's influence suppresses those feelings.

While in battle, any stress felt usually takes the form of a powerful anger... or more accurately, only fuels the already existing anger there.

Rey can usually handle stress well, but depending on the trigger for it...

While normally he hides his feelings better than most others, when truly overwhelmed it can trigger a complete breakdown on both the mental and physical level.

At best, this can render him unconscious for a few hours, at worst, it could eventually lead him to an early grave.

Meyrin is good at putting up a strong front, however she's fairly easily overwhelmed. When she finally stops trying to act like she's okay, then things have gotten to be too much even for her.

Normally, though, you can usually gauge her stress level from how much she looks around (as if watching out for someone or something) and how restless she seems.

Because Meyrin's mental health is fairly unstable, large amounts of stress can trigger serious episodes.

mind: does my muse have any mental conditions that affect their lives? what are they? how do they handle them? what coping methods do they use most? 

Miwa suffers from post traumatic stress disorder, after the events of Exodus, like most other Fafner pilots. Though she's good at hiding this, and it mainly manifests in an almost suicidal level of self sacrifice. Because she does not see the latter as a problem, she doesn't try to "cope" with it, instead smiling and acting like it was normal.

Chaos most notably lacks a proper sense of self, at the moment. Though he suffers from post traumatic stress disorder carried over from his previous "self" and the actions taken before he was fully under Malespero's control.

Like Mitsuhiro before him, he also has borderline personality disorder, however this seems to have been "suppressed" along with his previous personality. For the most part.

Rey suffers from a combination of post traumatic stress disorder, borderline personality disorder, and severe distrust of and suspicion of others, especially his peers.

While his PTSD is usually managed by suppressing his feelings, his unhealthy attachment to the Chairman, feelings of inadequacy, and distrust of others, are at least in part encouraged in order to further the Destiny Plan. Due to this, he doesn't necessarily view them as something to be handled or resolved.

Meyrin also, like the other three suffers from PTSD, though mostly unrelated to her activities in the war. She also is deeply paranoid and struggles with trusting her government, and the technology she works with.

While she can usually calm down from an episode related to her childhood trauma with a shower, or some time to ground herself (after years of coping, and support), the latter is... more tricky than that.

[callsignmuse]

BATTLE WOUNDS

Pairing: Rooster x reader, Bradley Bradshaw x reader 

It was a rainy and lazy morning and you laid in his sheets. He dozed peacefully next to you as you began to stir. You slowly opened your eyes and took in the grey sky. Your boyfriend, Rooster was still fast asleep. Thunder rumbled softly as you moaned, stretching your limbs. You turned back over looking at his tanned shirtless back. You had been dating for only a short time but you had been warned about dating a military man, particularly a Top Gun pilot. 

Their egos are the size of Texas. 

He’ll only break your heart. 

Won’t he be gone all the time? 

They couldn’t be more wrong. Rooster was the kindest heart you could’ve found. Now of course you had your moments and he could shoot to kill with his words but he always tried to do right by you. 

You leaned over and gave his shoulder a gentle kiss. Rooster groaned beneath you. “Morning.” His raspy voice broke the silence. More thunder sounded outside. “It’s raining.” He pointed out. He loved the rain. 

“Yeah it’s been storming all night.” You said remembering what your phone said when you checked it this morning. 

“You don’t have to answer this but where’d you’d get this scar?”you wondered as you rubbed your hand along its smooth, bumpy surface. He chuckled and shivered underneath your touch. He was so easily ticklish and the giggle he produced was enough to melt your heart. So boyish, so happy and childlike. You loved it. 

“It’s ok, it’s taken me awhile but I can finally talk about them.”He breathed in deeply, “That was from a car accident long ago. I was ejected from the vehicle.” He told you as he looked up to gauge your reaction. You brows furrowed. You hated the thought of him being hurt. But you hated the thought of him being violently thrown from a car even more. 

You let your fingers do the walking as they brushed against his cheek. 

“And here?” 

He closed his eyes living in the feeling of your fingers on his skin. 

“That was from ejecting out of a plane when I was shot down saving Maverick. Shrapnel was flying everywhere, but it was worth every bit of pain.” He took your fingers and rubbed them against his chin, “feel that?”

You nodded your head yes. 

“There’s still some in there. Doctors didn’t see any reason to scar up my face anymore so they left it in there.” 

Your eyes went wide. 

“It’s still there!”

He laughed softly as he turned over onto his chest. He revealed yet another scar on his neck. 

“And what about this one? You know it’s in my favorite place.” You wiggled your eyebrows devilishly at him. His cheeks tinted pink quickly. 

“That was from Mav trying to teach me how to rise his motorcycle when I was teenager. I couldn’t figure out how to stop and I ran into a tree. This is from a low lying branch. But if you tell anyone that I’ll have to kill you.” He joked making you almost cackle at the thought of it. Your mind created the most ridiculous scene of Maverick calling after him and Bradley panicking with both legs out as the bike moved forward at just a fast enough speed to do minor damage. 

Then you rubbed underneath his eyes. Specifically his left eye. You always loved his eyes they were for the most soft, open and kind. You could tell everything rooster was thinking by looking into his brown orbs. 

“Training exercise went wrong.” He explained softly but shortly. It tugged at your heart. Now that was something you knew not to press forward on. You knew what happened with Goose and you knew you didn’t want to start his day that way. You had already pried into his personal space asking him about scars. 

“I never liked them much, just got used to them.” He admitted. You held a soft smile as you tucked your hair behind your ear. 

“Well I love them. Just like I love you.” You told him honestly receiving an award winning smile from him. 

“Really?”

“There’s nothing more sexy or anything that makes me more confident that you’re the guy for me than these scars. You carry the proof of battles won on your body. You’re a warrior Bradley, a fighter. And you always win.”

He grabbed you by the back of the neck and pulled you down on top of him. His tongue danced behind your lips kissing you passionately before he broke away just enough to say, “I love you too.”

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

What kind of drunk are they? I.e the oversharer, the cuddler, the one who falls asleep, the one that gets into shenanigans….

(Headcanon Masterlist) (Full Masterlist)

This... is incredible, anon, I love you. I'm so surprised I haven't thought about this before THANK YOU!!

Merlin, in the early days, is a giggler. He gets really dopey and smiley and even more clumsy, which people find either super endearing or really annoying, there is no in between. Later on, after his life has gotten significantly shittier and he's always tired and is basically suffering from chronic pain at this point, he's a quiet, withdrawn drunk. He just can't stop thinking about things that make him miserable, and his friends definitely pick up on that and like... don't know what to do about it. Because it's so different to how he normally is. He doesn't drink often at all, but the gang always gets this weird feeling that... this is what Merlin's hiding: how miserable (for unknown reasons) he is. He sometimes makes really vague comments about rather horrifying things, but nothing specific, and nothing that The Gang could use to figure out what exactly is wrong with him: “We’re all a little terrified of fire, aren’t we?” and “Sort of hoping I’ll be drunk enough to actually be able to rest tonight,” and “Snapping a neck isn’t that hard, as long as you get the angle right,” and “Tomorrow’s hangover is going to be worse than last month’s bout of torture, god damn,”. Things that would be really unnerving to hear from anyone, let alone Merlin.

I think it depends who Arthur is with. If he's just getting tipsy with other Nobles or whatever at a banquet, he is always at least partly in control, and everything is carefully measured to make him appear drunker than he is. Once he learns to trust his friends and he actually lets loose, he's a cuddler. Or maybe not an outright cuddler (with anyone except Merlin and Leon anyway) but he does lose all meaning of personal space. You can gauge how drunk Arthur is by how much he's touching another person. Sat shoulder to shoulder with Elyan? He's had a drink or two to relax but is basically sober. Plopped himself down in Gwaine's lap without seeing any problem with this? He's pissed. He gets cold easily, is always his excuse when drunk, and he has, on multiple occasions, made Merlin sleep in his bed with him for the body heat (literally just for he body heat. Merlin is warm and soft to lay on and that’s all drunk Arthur cares about).

Morgana gets flushed in the face and is a little giggly, loses her sharp tongue, but otherwise manages to stay very well put together, considering. Arthur likes it because she loses the darkness in her eyes and she doesn't look quite so exhausted; though he doesn't encourages her to drink too often, because he knows what that looks like, and he doesn't want her to have to rely on it to be able to sleep peacefully. Morgana is like... semi-aware of this, but chooses not to give it too much thought. Sometimes she’ll get this distant look in her eye, but she’s easily distracted, especially if Merlin or Gwen are there (for very different reasons, Merlin understands her, and Gwen is... Gwen).

Elyan gets sleepy. He's a sleepy drunk. He naps, BUT, he naps anywhere and everywhere. They're in a tavern? Under the table. They're all piled into Arthur's chambers? In front of the fire, or, if he's drunk enough, Arthur's bed. The woods? If it's dry, the floor, he doesn't care, if it's wet, then someone's lap. He'll just... pass out every so often for half an hour at most, wake up ready to party for a little while, and then sleep some more. He has the fewest and least severe hangovers because he always gets enough sleep and the whole thing is like.. a built-in way to pace himself.

Leon doesn't change much, but he does visibly relax as the night goes on. Compliments and affection will start coming even easier than they normally do, and though sometimes he's a little quiet, it's because he's sleepy and happy and warm and soft, not sad. His protectiveness shows through a little, and he'll often find himself sat with Merlin, holding his hand or with an arm round his shoulder; he likes to feel the younger man close, either because he's so young and naïve and innocent, or because something in his friend is broken and scared and angry and hurt, and he wants to be there for him, even if his drunk mind doesn't really understand that.

Percival is a rambler. He's not much of a talker when he's sober, he's a quiet and reserved man, happy to let his smile (or his stature, depending on who he's interacting with) do the talking for him. But when he's drunk that goes out the window, he just.... talks. And talks and talks.

Gwaine sits there all moony eyed and stares at Percival whilst he speaks, if he's with friends. If he's on his own, it's a different story. He's boisterous and flirty and the life of the party, but will also throw a punch given the slightest provocation, as we all know. I could go into the detailed angsty reasoning behind that (he's secretly a rather angry man and semi-enjoys being hurt because in some fucked up way it makes him feel alive) but... we don't need to. If they drink in public, he’s a mix of the two. He’ll spend most of his time focused on Percival or Merlin (again, for very different reasons), but he’ll also throw a flirty comment at the barmaid/barman, and will still throw a punch if his drunk mind deems it necessary.

Mordred doesn't drink. He is baby. Or at least the others stop him drinking (except Gwaine, he encourages it) more than a pint or two, but that's still enough for him to get pissed. Baby boy's tolerance is in the fucking basement, put him in a tavern and the fumes alone could have him tipsy. He’s just... giggly and flushed and childish, but also pouty if anyone points this out.

Gwen is giggly and a little spacey, but also cares way less about like... propriety. She has told Arthur to "fuck off princess I don't need your damn coddling" when he started being all... Noble about walking her home or something, and she DOES join in on Gwaine's fights, if he gets pulled into any, and she CAN throw one hell of a right hook. Gwaine and Gwen are such a chaotic duo when drunk and they are officially banned from drinking together unless they have someone else with them. If she remembers (she always does tbh, her drunk memory is incredible) she's always mortified the next morning.

Lancelot is the Mum Friend Supreme!! Doesn't matter how drunk he is, he has pain tonics and hair ties and bandages and skins of water on him at all times. Gwaine literally starts calling him Ma when he’s drunk because if you need something... Lance is almost certain to have it. He once went to the tavern early and stored a pillow in one of the cupboards behind the bar and pulled it out when Elyan started getting sleepy. When actually drunk, he is still the Mum Friend Supreme, but he’s also an odd mix of super fretful, and super laid back, and he’ll switch between the two at the drop of a hat. Without warning.

Gaius doesn't drink very often at all, but if it's insisted on he maybe gets a little spacey? He's just a little slow on the mental uptake, but is otherwise a perfectly functioning adult. Though he is always the first to somehow disappear and get away when someone (Gwaine and Gwen) gets them into trouble.

~

Hope y'all enjoyed that!!!😁 Keep 'em coming!!

[rocorambles]

Proving A Point

Pairing: Toji x reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Yandere, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Degradation, Murder, Violence, Gore, Borderline Necro??? But not really??? Listen...there is a dead body and things are done in very very close proximity to that dead body so take that as you will.

Summary: You make the mistake of accusing Toji of being jealous of sorcerers and he proves that he has nothing to be envious of.

Steady...Steady…

You wince as your stomach grumbles in complaint, hunger eating away at your patience and concentration. But you steel your nerves, stubbornly shaking your head and willing away the pangs in your abdomen as you focus on your surroundings, eyeing the cameras and employees, waiting for the right moment…

Skittish eyes. Rustling. Quick movements.

You tamper the pep in your step, hiding the glee in your face as you casually stroll outside of the sliding doors, leaving the grocery store and its shoppers in your wake, baggy sweatshirt much less roomy as you walk away. Your fingers itch to immediately grab the banana tucked inside your bra, but you know better.

Patience is a virtue. Out of sight, out of mind. And you wait, fighting every urge to run far away and dig into your stolen loot, sighing in giddy relief when you finally turn the corner, blocks away from the scene of the crime.

It’s almost animalistic how you practically rip off your hoodie, letting your precious cargo of fruits, bread, and chips fall to the ground. You plop on the ground, hand wrapping around the banana still tucked in the fabric around your chest, but you freeze at the sound of amused chuckling.

Your fight and flight instincts war inside of you, teeth baring, body back on its feet as you gauge your intruder. But your heart drops in your stomach when you take in the large muscular figure, the feral scarred grin leering at you from down the alley.

Years alone and left to fend for yourself have made your survival instincts strong and you know just from a brief glance that you don’t stand a chance against the man slowly meandering towards you. You’re no stranger to using your body for protection, money, just another night under a warm roof and you can only surmise that’s what he wants, that he’s just another predator in search of hapless prey. So you brace yourself, willing your body to relax as it trembles, letting it go limp as he draws near.

But you open your eyes in shock, looking warily on as he plucks the banana still nestled in your bra and peels it open, holding the opened end to your lips.

“Don’t let me interrupt your meal.”

You gape, eyes flickering between the yellow fruit and the amused face of the man in front of you. Back and forth, back and forth.

“If you’re not going to eat it, maybe I’ll have it. I’m getting kind of hungry anyway-”

“What is this? Some kind of weird foreplay?!”

Hunger makes your tongue sharper than you intend as you angrily chomp on the soft fruit before he can pull it away from you, your hands ripping the rest of the banana from his grasp as you quickly shove the rest in your mouth, uncaring of how ridiculous you look. So what if you look like an oversized furious chipmunk, cheeks bulging as you rapidly chew, scowl set in place? You’d be damned if you let someone else take your hard-earned food, even if he does look capable of choking you with his bare hands, and your eyes linger a little too long on the ways his shoulders and biceps bulge in his tight black shirt.

But his next words have you snapping back to attention, nervousness curling inside of you.

“I saw your little stunt back there. Not bad. How long have you been stealing to provide for yourself?”

You immediately deny his words, feigning ignorance, beads of cold sweat trailing down the side of your face the longer he just impassively stares at you as you continue stuttering.

Had you misjudged him? Was he some kind of undercover cop?

“What if I told you I could keep you off the streets, find jobs that would pay enough money to put a roof over your head, keep your stomach full?”

Your head snaps up, hope fluttering inside of you, your voice coming out more desperate and shaky than you wish.

“You won’t turn me in?”

The man snorts, bending down to pick up the rest of your meager belongings and food, not even looking back to see if you’re following as he begins to walk away, arms laden with your possessions, silently commanding you to follow him. And like a duckling imprinting on its parent, you instinctively trail after him without a single question about where you’re going, what jobs he’s talking about, or who he is. But as you exit the narrow alleyway and get ready to merge with the bustling street, he pauses, turning around to gaze at you as he answers one of those questions.

“I’m Toji. No last name. Just Toji.”

Neither of you dwell too much on what exactly brought the two of you together, what had Toji curiously watching as you skillfully and efficiently stole your next few meals and deciding to tuck you under his wing, what had you eagerly following after the man like a lost puppy. The harsh conditions and day-to-day survival of your lives don’t give either of you the luxury of wallowing in loneliness or the warmth that builds in your chests the more time you spend together.

But on nights after a successful job, bellies full of food and alcohol, bodies lazing on a cushy hotel bed where you splurge and rest for the night, neither of you fight the way your limbs naturally entangle, the way your lips meet in the dark, the way it feels so damn right to be together.

You learn about sorcerers and curses, shuddering when you become aware of an entire world that surrounds you. Toji laughs when he gifts you a pair of glasses that helps you see the evil around you and you scream, jumping in his readily outstretched arms, clinging onto him in fright.

Toji learns that aggressive shows of confrontation and brute force aren’t always the best answer (even if they are the most fun option) and he follows your lead, letting you quietly sneak around, swift hands dexterously picking locks, easily plucking and pocketing stolen goods. It’s your turn to laugh when he pouts at not being able to use his blade, strong arms crossed in front of his chest as he impatiently waits for you to finish your task.

But despite the months you spend together, you never get used to the crimson stains he returns with, eyes always averted and looking anywhere else when he deals a final blow. He knows if you had a choice, you’d always opt out of joining him on these specific types of requests. He knows it’s selfish to force you along, to make excuses as to why he needs you by his side as his sword guts yet another sorcerer. He knows he should feel some shame for the way you dry heave and vomit the contents of your guts at the sight of the countless corpses he forces you to look upon.

Yet all he feels is annoyance laced with guilt and fury at the pity in your eyes, the softness in your gaze as you watch him slay another individual who just happened to be born with cursed energy, the gentleness with which you handle the fallen bodies. Maybe that’s why he keeps on dragging you with him assassination after assassination, gloating about his new moniker “Socerer Killer” in front of you despite your clear discomfort towards the title.

But maybe the unspoken punishment is too soft for you, too subtle. And Toji scowls when you begin to question him and his motives, angrily growling right back at you when you raise your voice as you argue with him about his drive to kill every sorcerer he crosses paths with.

You plead and beg for him to reconsider. Sorcerers are humans after all, just with special abilities.

Toji wonders if you’d still think that if you met anyone else from the Zenin clan and both of you back down, your arms wrapping around him in an attempt to soothe and comfort as you see his mind and eyes glaze over in painful reminiscing.

It’s during one of these sessions that you utter the lines that end up being your downfall.

“Toji, do you think that maybe all your hate towards sorcerers is just jealousy? Are you jealous that you weren’t born with cursed energy like they were? Because if that’s what it is, there’s nothing to be jealous about-”

“What the fuck did you just say?”

Harsh language and cursing are all things you’ve come to expect from Toji. But what has you paralyzed with fear and a desperate need to make things right is the pure animosity and seething rage in his voice.

You whimper as a large hand reaches to grip your face, squishing your cheeks painfully, forcing you to lock eyes with fierce emerald orbs.

“I’m not jealous.”

He abruptly lets go of you with that sentence, turning his back on you, slamming the door in his wake. And you know you should be grateful that this is the extent of his lashing out. Yet somehow your heart aches more in his absence and you almost long for more of his heated words, even a spiteful strike as the days drag on without his presence.

It’s embarrassing how much you miss him, how accustomed you’ve grown to him being around. But you can’t help the way you scramble and flail in your rush to greet him as he finally enters your bedroom almost an entire week later. And he snorts when he easily catches you as you stumble and topple into his arms, tightly flinging your arms around him and holding him in silence, nuzzling and inhaling his scent as you bury your head in his chest.

You don’t miss the way a large hand gently rests on your head, the way he lets himself bask in your embrace. But all is not forgiven or forgotten and you warily listen as he barks at you to get ready, telling you he has another job for the both of you, grimacing when a razor sharp grin cuts across his face when he tells you it’ll be a messy one.

If there’s one positive attribute about Toji, it’s that he’s a man of his word. Your stomach churns, nausea swirling inside of you as he uses his bare fists to seemingly break every bone in the target’s body, unnecessarily cruel as he drags out the sorcerer’s death. The victim’s agonized screams fill the air and you clamp your hands over your ears, wishing you were anywhere but here, hesitantly stepping towards the exit, but stopping at Toji’s curt command for you to stay put.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh finally stops and you let out a shaky breath, tentatively lowering your arms as you turn back to face Toji, waiting for his exit plan. But your eyes widen when you see the sorcerer’s chest still rising and falling, still hanging to life by a fraying thread. And realization weighs down on your shoulders like a ton of bricks when Toji beckons you over, pulling your reluctant body until your back is pressed against his chest.

He places the hilt of his sword in your hands before gripping your hips, holding you still as his thumbs languidly rub lazy circles through the fabric of your pants. Hooking his chin over your shoulder, he watches the tremble of your arms as you vigorously shake your head side to side, eyes dizzyingly flitting between the half-dead sorcerer laying at your feet and the sharp point of the weapon your holding.

“Toji, I don’t- I can’t-”

“Kill him or be punished. Pick your poison.”

You know there’ll be hell to pay if you don’t follow through and every ounce of self-preservation screams at you to put your own well-being above the pitiful stranger on the ground. But when you lock eyes and see the fear and pain, see him as just another human like yourself, you know you’ll never be able to forgive yourself if you deal the final blow, know that his death will haunt you, curse you, for the rest of your life.

You’re terrified as you begin to loosen your grip, getting ready to let the object clatter to the ground, knowing full well Toji will be livid. But before you can fully release the sword, strong hands wraps around yours, forcing you to hold the blade once more, and you scream as Toji guides your hands, forcing you to cut through flesh, muscle, skin, and bone, the body parting like butter beneath the overwhelming force. Hot crimson splatters decorate the both of you and all you smell and taste is metallic copper.

All you’re cognizant of is the dimming light in the sorcerer’s eyes, the way your hands are still holding onto the weapon buried in your victim’s guts.

Murderer. Murderer. Murderer.

You don’t know anything except the need to flee, to separate yourself as far from the crime scene as possible. And your legs jerk back to life, only to give out on you as you’re forced to the ground, body unable to do much against Toji’s brute strength as he forces you on all fours on top of the still warm corpse, your limbs encasing the figure, eyes unable to look anywhere but straight down on those vacant eyes.

“Take a close look, sweetheart. Still think I’m jealous of a pathetic meat sack like that? Still think I care about having cursed energy? His special little powers didn’t help him much, did they?”

Toji’s laughter rings in your ears as your shaky arms struggle to hold your bodyweight up, trying to create as much distance between your torso and the hardening corpse beneath you, your eyes clenching shut, trying to block out the gruesome scene. You’re so focused on your predicament that you barely register calloused hands pulling down your pants and underwear, leaving your most intimate parts on display.

But Toji’s never been a fan of being ignored, especially by you, and you wail as he suddenly shoves his cock inside of your dry and unprepared hole, the pain and force of his thrust throwing you off balance and fat tears stream down your face as your body falls on the lifeless form beneath you.

Fear, pain, and disgust coil and slither inside of you as you futilely flail and try to lift yourself off the body beneath you, loud sobs escaping past your lips as your face is squished against a much colder visage, your tears and saliva mixing with the congealed blood on the sorcerer’s face. But every time you try to push yourself up, Toji rams into you from behind, and you instinctively tip forward, trying to escape, trying to pull away from him, only to further trap yourself against the corpse.

“God, you’re such a fucking crybaby. He’s dead, get over it. Look. There’s nothing to be so upset about.”

A new wave of salty tears trail down your face as Toji uses one hand to pin you down, forcing your lips to connect with colder, stiffer ones in a mockery of a kiss. He pauses his relentless thrusts to boisterously laugh as you fight against his hold in renewed vigor, fueled by your disbelief and terror.

“Alright, I guess that’s enough punishment for you. Don’t want you to die from shock. Let me make it all better.”

If you thought the ocean of negativity you had been drowning in before was bad, this is worse. So much worse. And a disgust so thick, so potent, so irreversible washes over you, seeping into every part of you, as pleasure begins to flicker and grow deep inside of you. Toji knows every inch of your body inside and out, and it’s pathetic how quickly your pleas for him to stop become lewd moans and wanton sounds as his fingers rub and play with hardening nipples and clit, as he angles his cock at just the perfect degree that has you seeing stars, as his teeth possessively bite down in the junction of your neck.

You don’t want to feel good, not like this, not here, not sprawled on top of a man you had just killed in cold blood. But it’s hard to think of anything else other than the arousal and lust fogging over your morality, over your humanity as Toji turns you into a well-trained mindless slut desperate for him, for pleasure. And he smiles victoriously as you stop resisting, letting your body mold against the corpse beneath you, uncaring of how absolutely sinful and depraved you look as you moan and drool like a bitch in heat, writhing shamelessly against the body underneath you.

He knows the image is going to be seared into his mind for life, fap material for years to come, and his hips stutter, his tempo fluctuating as his balls tighten, his thrusts becoming even more feral and desperate as he chases his end. And when you cum first, convulsing and milking him of all his seed, pushed over the edge by the brutality of his pace, he spills thick white spurts deep inside of you, grunting in satisfaction as he slams balls deep into you one last time.

It’s amusing how you’ve seemingly had a complete change of heart, looking almost at home and at peace as you continue laying on the motionless sorcerer, body twitching and eyes rolled back in your head as you laze in post-coital bliss. His softening and spent cock twitches in interest again as a sticky trail begins to trickle out your used cunt, mixing with the blood of the broken body beneath you. And it takes all his willpower to refrain from having you, tasting you all over again.

You’re still on the clock after all and there’s payment to be collected.

But as he coldly barks at you to get up and tidy yourself up as best as you can, smug satisfaction swells inside of him as he watches you exhaustedly pull your panties and pants back up above your ass, a dazed pleasured look on your face as you quickly make your way to him, tucking yourself closely to his side and leaning into his body heat.

You always were a clingy and needy thing after an orgasm. But he can’t bring himself to mind, sneering as he tosses one last backwards glance at the dead sorcerer you’re leaving behind before finally settling into a self-satisfied smile as he pulls you in closer.

Cursed energy and all...no sorcerer could ever make you feel as good as him.

[360iris]

NSFW Alphabets: Sirius Black (Poly!Marauders Edition)

In which Sirius is in a polyamorous relationship with James, Remus, yourself and Lily.

A - Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He’s the type that almost immediately launches into your specific after-sex routine. He’ll leave the holding and kissing part to the others while he gets warm rags and a pitcher of water.

Makes sure you’re all cleaned up and having a clean set of sleeping clothes on; might even fix your hair so it’s not all over your head depending on how crazy the night was.

Very much the quietly caring type.

B - Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite aspect of himself is his hair, he devotes so much time, money and care into keeping it soft and long. He loves when you or the others play in it (despite how many times he might grumble, it’s an act). Not to mention when he’s giving oral and you pull at his roots? He’ll work even harder to please you.

His favorite aspect of you are your hands. He loves that you’re almost all hands, always subconsciously grabbing for him; it makes him feel wanted, needed even. Enjoys when your hands are in his hair, holding his own, or mischievously drifting over his thighs.

C - Cum (Anything to do with cum)

He loves seeing you swallow, there’s just something hot about it that gets him going? He also gets a kick out of coming on your chest, thighs or butt? It’s probably a marking territory type of thing.

D - Dirty Secret

Extreme throat fucking is probably his favorite way to get off. Forcing himself down your throat until your lips are touching his base and then holding you there by the hair at the base of your neck until you’re crying from the strain? Most definitely his thing.

When he has to pull out for a second to let you cough and try to catch your breath, he’d 100% spend the time degrading you.

“It wasn’t even that long, stop you sniveling and get back over here. Didn’t you say you wanted to be good for me?”

E - Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Very! Probably the most experienced out of all the Marauders.

The man is downright gorgeous, with the darkest onyx locks that fall past his shoulders; not to mention a tongue and wit that’s sharper than a sword. Interested partners flocked to him and he got plenty of physical use out of those encounters, but he never paid mind to them emotionally. His heart was set on particular group of dummies.

He knows what he’s doing and knows how to pinpoint what you like by watching your reactions. He’s very adaptable and changes his approach around your needs. A very sexually intelligent and intuitive partner.

F - Favorite Position

Doggy style for when you’re being punished, it’s a way to distance the intimacy and focus on the act. Also allows for easy spankings.

The Ballet Dancer and the Upstanding Citizen are his usual go-to positions bc they allow for face-to-face interaction.

He loves getting to see your reactions during sex, not only does it allow him to gauge how to best please you, but also gives him a sense of satisfaction to see you come undone up close.

G - Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc?)

His during sex humor is usually derived from him degrading you. He’ll laugh at you for how whiny and needy you’re being or for how quickly you came. He enjoys being a sarcastic asshole.

H - Hot Spots (A place that drives them crazy when touched)

Massaging his scalp really gets him going regardless of if he’d directly admit it or not. The second your fingers begin caressing gentle circles in his hair, he’s melting into a puddle. Very puppy of him to be honest.

Rubbing the back of his ears probably gets him too, I have a feeling they’re quite sensitive to touch.

I - Intimacy (How are they in the moment, romantically?)

His intimacy is very serious, all lingering steely stares, face-to-face closeness and caressing of your hips. His love is quietly passionate and searing.

Because of his childhood and being disowned at sixteen, he’s been very weary of caring about others. He had Remus and James and that was enough for him. He could love them freely and know it wouldn’t burn him.

With you however, he couldn’t begin to control his love. The way you seemed to understand who he was at his core. The way he could love you no matter the weather or the consequences. The way your opinion of him never swayed, even when he was hurting the most.

His love for you is the unsung and unspoken kind, no need for the words because you can feel his adoration through his actions. Through his unwavering stares and tender caresses.

J - Jack Off (Masturbation Headcanon)

He’s not obsessed with it, but if he’s feeling particularly overstimulated in the mornings or after a Quidditch match, he just might stroke himself in the showers. He could also be into the idea of mutual masturbation.

K - Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Impact play + sadism

He enjoys seeing the aftermath of sex. The bruises on your thighs, love-bites on your neck and the lingering redness on your butt.

Corruption kink

Remus was the first partner you’d had before he’d introduced you to his friends. Sirius loved seeing how they slowly trained you into becoming more confident and sexually aware.

Degradation

The process of getting you to point where all your inhibitions are abandoned and the only thing you can even think of wanting is him, thrills him like no other. All shame, embarrassment or guilt gone.

Voyeurism

Whether it’s in an abandoned classroom, the library or an empty hallway, he loves the anticipation; the paranoia and pleasure in your eyes.

L - Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere but his favorite has to be abandoned classrooms. Your button-up wrinkled, skirt hiked up and figure bent over a desk. What can be better than that?

M - Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going?)

His love for you motivates him like no other. The need to see you under him with watery eyes and puffy lips begging him to do something, anything.

N - No (Something they won’t do, turn offs)

Big no to bodily fluids that aren’t spit. Doesn’t do CNC, he wants his partners to be eager and willing so even the act of genuinely not wanting it turns him off.

O - Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He’s fine with either because they give him a different sense of pleasure. He’s very observant so once he’s assessed what pleases you the most, he leans into that hard until you’re shaking.

P - Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)

Slow but impacting, allowing you both to savor the way he slides into you. The pain of the stretch but also the pleasure of the veins and ridges of his length.

Q - Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc)

He’s definitely not the type to say no to a quickie unless he’s intentionally playing a long game. Usually he has no problem pulling you away from to group to fuck in a random broom closet.

R - Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks, etc?)

He’s all for trying new positions or fucking in different locations. By no means is he vanilla.

S - Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Three rounds at most on a good day! He could probably last an hour or two, with foreplay and all.

T - Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or on themselves?)

He has dildo for himself when he wants to masturbate or for when he lets you peg him. The rest of the toys are for the sole purpose of overstimulation either you or himself.

U - Unfair (How much do they like to tease?)

A teaser one hundred percent! The power edging gives him over you is intoxicating. Denying you release until you’re sobbing makes him overly giddy. Definitely the time when he’s smiling the widest.

V - Volume (How loud are they? What sounds do they make?)

Grunts, curses and sighs are the most you can get from him regularly. Introducing vibrators can easily change that however.

W - Wild Card (Random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He’s secretly into pet play? Loves reminding you that bunnies don’t make noise. You can bet on pastel collars, lingerie and tail butt plugs (if you’re into of course.)

X - X-Ray (What’s going on under those clothes)

A very lean torso, he’s not insanely built but definitely has firm muscles. Very nice abs from all those years of obsessively playing Quidditch.

His penis is about 6-7 inches hard, a few veins along the length of it with a protruding, pink tip.

Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Average, he’s not always thinking about sex but he’d never turn down an advance from you or the others. I’d say a healthy amount.

Z - ZZZ (How quickly do they fall asleep afterwards?)

Pretty quickly? He’s not one to stay up chatting so I’d drift off after making sure you’re all comfy and properly taken care of.

[lady-literature]

I rewrite Sky High

okay so, disclaimer: sky high was actually pretty damn good for it’s time and a lot of the plot twists/tropes used in it were still just starting out and not as commonplace as they are today. so 10/10 really good movie.

Also as i was writing this, it turned into half analysis of what’s already in the movie and half things I would change about the movie so,,, yeah. enjoy!

***

So the point about Sky High is that and the way the school and hero society as a whole works, is that you, as the audience, are supposed to look at it and know that it’s a flawed system. We’re supposed to see it as an injustice that kids are sorted into hero or sidekick- Sorry, I mean ‘Hero Support,’ on your first day of school based on something you can’t even control.

(This movie was my hero academia-ing it up before it was cool.)

Anyway, the movie calls a lot of attention to it in the beginning, but then doesn't actually give it the resolution it deserves in the end. Which, not cool guys.

The Hero/Sidekick debacle is, on the whole, a very thinly veiled metaphor for the problems minorities face. Specifically, those of the alphabet mafia, or LGBTQ, as we’re more commonly known.

There are a lot of examples for this so I’ll speed through the big ones real quick:

Will’s nerves regarding not having attraction to girls superpowers?

The way he tries to fake having an attraction to girls superpowers to get approval from his dad?

Being literally outed in front of his whole class (by someone named Boomer no less) and then immediately trying to hide it from his parents as long as possible?

The constant references to being a ‘late bloomer’. Doesn’t it remind you of the common phrases: ‘it’s just a phase’ or ‘don’t worry. You’ll start liking [opposite gender] eventually.’ ?

The scene in the kitchen, right after Will introduces the Sidekick Squad (and yes, that is what I’ll be referring to them as for the rest of this essay tumblr post). Will is so obviously trying to gauge how his dad is going to take his friends being sidekicks and also him being a sidekick. I just, this is so blatantly a coming out scene? How does anybody not see it as that?

(also the dad talking so offhandedly about bigotry and the hatred his own father had for sidekicks??? Who else has been there?)

Will telling his dad that he doesn’t care, that he’s proud of being gay to be a sidekick is just,,, *chef’s kiss*

With all of this backing behind Will and him growing into not being ashamed of his lack of powers, My first change would be that Will does not, in fact receive his father’s super strength. It’s just such a cop out! The movie had all this amazing build up, and this brilliant metaphor it could have used and, instead, they threw it all away.

The sudden acquisition of powers and immediate acceptance by his peers, feels too close to someone being ‘fixed’. That Will wasn’t good enough the way he was and had to be better, had to be his father in order to be good enough.

So, no. Will remains powerless.

Instead of the revelation of ‘he’s strong’, we get to let the Sidekick Squad shine.

Lash and Speed still cause a fight between Warren and Will, but when Will is under the table, the sidekicks actually do something.

Will knocks the table over (not, like, lifting Warren up but something closer to pushing him off. I mean, even I could push upwards from underneath a table fast enough that if someone is standing on it, they’d lose their balance and fall to the ground) and that starts things.

The Sidekick Squad all grab forgotten lunch trays or cartons of milk or something and throw it at Warren. It isn’t long then that the whole scene devolves into a food fight (Zach, at least, does not have good aim and probably hits a bystander accidentally, drawing more people in, until the whole cafeteria is involved.) The fight turns into something more playful, but still with that bit of an undertone of trying to actually hurt each other.

Ethan melts at one point and (accidentally) causes Warren to slip and land on his back, Magenta probably punches someone (not Warren) and Zach is just mouthing off to anybody who gets close enough. Near the end, right before Principal Powers shows up, Layla finally gets the right idea and just fire extinguishes the shit out of Warren.

(Side note here: I am very much also nixing the Layla crushes on Will plotline. I love best friends to lovers just as much as the next person but… no. Let kids see boy/girl friendships! 

Instead, I will be inserting a Layla/Warren love story and you can consider this the first scene on the road for that.)

Anyway, the whole Sidekick Squad plus Warren ends up in the detention room and all of them are covered in food. Right after Principal Powers leaves, the Sidekick Squad is immediately talking excitedly to each other about how cool they just were and what they did. Basically it’s very wholesome and they’re all hyping each other up and then one of them, Layla or Will, excitedly turns to Warren and goes, ‘and that thing you did with the fireballs? God! I don’t think Lash is going to have any eyebrows for a month’ and the tension between them all but drops.

Warren, of course, tries to push them away and not get involved with their ridiculousness, but the Sidekick Squad is stubborn and by the end of detention, everyone but Warren is in agreement that he’s a part of the Squad now. They will not leave him alone. They also start hanging out at the Paper Lantern all the time just to annoy/make fun of him in that loving way friends do.

(I just want Warren to be a part of the Squad guys. Will calls him his best friend at the end but what did the movie actually do to show they were friends? Nothing, that’s what. I want that fixed.)

So the cafeteria fight boosts the whole Squad’s reputation, right? People think those sidekicks are pretty cool, and they get their fifteen minutes of fame. Only… Will gets a little hooked on the feeling of being popular. He doesn’t want to be a capital-h Hero or anything! But, well… he’d be lying if he didn’t like people thinking he was cool.

The others don’t really care all that much about being cool, but Will does. He hates that he does but what is he supposed to do? He can’t change how he feels. So he starts trying to make himself more popular and sometimes tries dragging his friends into stupid schemes.

And then enter stage right, one Gwen Grayson.

I prefer Gwen being Royal Pain’s daughter, actually. A girl who would’ve had no stock in this fight but her mother, who is sickly and weak and survives mostly because her daughter takes care of her, practically brainwashes Gwen to do her bidding.

Gwen is a minion here, and also, perhaps, a victim.

At first, she follows her mom’s orders and charms Will into dating her. She also feeds into his desire to gain popularity but can’t, in this world, break him from his friends. Actually, Will brings Gwen along to the Sidekick Squad hangouts and, slowly, she becomes a part of the group too.

She starts to doubt her mother. Starts to care for Will and the Squad.

She throws the party, and the Squad is all invited (trying to break them up isn’t conducive to the Plan her mother has anyway and wouldn’t work besides) but she lures Will away to make out and… other things, and he brings her to the Sanctum for privacy just like before. She still steals the pacifier (or whatever death ray equivalent you want idk) but she and Will don’t break up at the end of the night.

It’s not actually until two days later, right before the dance is going to start, does Gwen decide she can’t stand back and let this happen anymore. She spills the whole plot and her betrayal to Will when he comes to pick her up for the dance. She’s crying and apologizing and basically expecting to be hated forever by the only people she thinks ever actually liked her.

And, well. Will is furious at her for lying but there’s more important things to deal with at the moment. They’ll talk more about this and he’ll be angry, but that’s all going to be later. Right now they have a school to save so he grabs her hand and starts running to warn the rest of their friends.

Things happen mostly as canon from that point with minor changes.

It’s Warren who pulls Layla into a kiss before they all split off into groups, telling her to kick ass and stay safe before sprinting off after Speed. There have been scenes throughout the movie where the two are very obviously getting closer and are into each other. And then, before the dance, while Gwen and Will we’re technically going as a couple, the whole Squad was going as a group.

When Warren and Layla saw each other all dolled up, it’s very cliché. Warren says she looks nice and Layla visibly gulps at his outfit of a button down and suit pants, sleeves rolled up to his elbows (because homeboy does not wear a full tux you can fight me on this).

And also, Will doesn’t fight Royal Pain by himself. Instead, Gwen is there with him and they don’t fight with super strength. Gwen’s been helping Will build an arsenal of gadgets a la Batman and the two face off against her mom together, Gwen with her powers, and Will acting as half support and half as a watered-down Batman who still needs some more training before he’s totally polished.

The school falls from the sky, but Gwen buys them time by keeping the anti gravs working through sheer force of will, while Will holds off her mom from attacking her while she’s vulnerable and concentrating. Magenta eventually kills the EMP or whatever it was, and the day is saved.

Gwen passes out, cause ~drama~ but she ends up okay so don’t worry. She’s just exhausted. 

The sidekicks get their recognition and then immediately bounce because dances suck and they all agree that they should go to the Paper Lantern instead to celebrate cause they’re tired, alright? Saving the day is hard.

So it’s all of them, a little battered and bruised and exhausted, crowded into this corner booth and laughing and being kids. The camera does it’s fade to comic book page thing, and the narration is something more along the lines of:

“Royal Pain and her cronies got locked away. Gwen and I talked things out, and she’s getting help for all the stuff her mom did to her. We’re taking things slow in the meantime.

The school is undergoing a lot of changes to the curriculum and getting rid of the whole ‘hero/sidekick’ divisions. (Mostly at the urging of my parents… and Layla). Next year is going to look a lot different, I think.

But it’ll be a good different, just like we are. None of us were what we were expected to be, and, I think, we’re going to keep defying expectations. There’s a whole world out there that needs changing.

And I can’t think of a better group of friends to do it with.”

THE END

(just give me found family saves the day by being themselves rather than somebody else, give me them saving the day because they care about each other, give me them fighting for what’s right and fixing things. please i am b e g g i n g.)

***

Additional nitpicks that are small but Very Important to Me

Coach Boomer is still called coach Boomer because there is no way I am missing out on the ‘okay, boomer’ jokes

Layla stays like Layla, but i’d like for the movie to stop trying to make her seem annoying for her beliefs or like she’s wrong to be so vocal about them. Her caring about things that are wrong ends up as the butt of too many jokes and i… do not like that.

Why so many dad/son scenes? Why this janky imbalance parenting dynamic between the Strongholds. Knock that shit off. I want happy functional family thank you very much

Mr Boy and the mad scientist are very obviously in a relationship

Wait, actually: mr boy, mad scientist and Boomer are al in a poly relationship and are ridiculous about it

I’d like to see more of the sidekick classes going over like, ‘the boring’ parts of the job, and teaching the kids how to deal with the aftermath of the heroes heroics, just to hammer in the fact that the system is fucked up and that it’s messed up that the heroes get all the recognition while the sidekicks are left to clean up the mess

Use actual 14 year old actors? These kids look like seniors.

Or, if you want more ‘mature’ characters make it so sky high is like,,, a finishing school or smth. Something kids 16 and over go to.

(What the fuck kind of parent thinks that their freshman child dating a senior is a good idea?? An almost adult coming onto a fourteen year old??? Are you trying to make Will’s parents (particularly the dad) seem like irresponsible assholes??)

Gwen is, at most, a year above Will in this rewrite, kay?

[lilover131]

Chapter 55 Thoughts

It’s been a while since I’ve taken the time to actually write down my reactions and thoughts about a chapter, but after a agonizing 3 month wait for a new chapter, I had a lot of time to think about a lot of things. The final day was certainly the most difficult, and I slept horribly trying to wait for this chapter to come out (it’d be nice if companies could regularly list like....a release time on a certain date so people aren’t literally refreshing the page every 5 minutes to see if it’s up. Or at least have some consistency!). My lack of sleep and constant thoughts about CCS though did manage to stir another CCS related dream, which I will talk about in a separate post. 

But hot damn was this chapter worth the wait! It certainly wasn’t what I expected, but it was really great in a lot of ways! 

ANYWAYS, I’ve rambled enough. My thoughts on this chapter are below the cut! 

So I will start off by praising the hell out of Sakura for her quick thinking in using SIEGE. That was definitely a wow moment for me and really shows her growth as a magic user and as a person honestly. This action not only spoke to her skill but also to how quick thinking she is in such an uncertain situation. Surely, having never had any reason to doubt Kaito or question his abilities before, It is almost unbelievable that she managed to think of that and do that in the mere seconds she had to respond after Syaoran made his accusation of Kaito. I’ve noticed as of late that her instincts in particular seem to be really really on point. She starting to trust herself and her feelings, and because of this, she is able to act without hesitation, and I have a feeling that is  going to be extremely vital later on. 

Sakura starts off by asking the real important questions and things I would ask myself in her shoes having just met another magic user, especially one with unclear intentions like Kaito. She seemed like she was studying him to gauge him and the reasons for his actions or what he might do. What intrigues me about this part is she first asks him if he knows about her being able to use cards. He answers with a simple “Yes”. But when she asks about if he knows about Syaoran, his answer is far less simple, and that might potentially be telling. Kaito stated that he knows Syaoran to be a “extremely gifted sorcerer” and “the next head of the Li clan”. Now, perhaps I’m overthinking this, but he could have just answered ‘yes’ like he did with Sakura, but instead he listed specific details about him that shows Sakura he has done his research and knows a lot about him. Now, we already knew that he had this information of course, but why does he want Sakura to know this in that moment? I’m fascinated by this and what he was trying to tell Sakura by telling her he had this sort of knowledge. Additionally, why is it that when it pertains to Syaoran, Kaito behaves so much differently than he does with anyone else? I’ll probably delve into that in another post, but I have some theories on that. 

After making this statement, Sakura and Kaito exchange some meaningful looks, though it’s unclear what the both of them are thinking in that moment. Sakura turns to look back at Akiho and Syaoran and appears nervous, like she’s concerned about something (I have a theory to that as well, but I’ll leave that for another time). Then, Sakura mentions Momo and asks where she went, indicating that she has not forgotten about the other person around earlier. Sakura seems to really be evaluating her situation with these questions she’s asking, but unbeknownst to her, Momo has been cut off from her tv drama and is pouting in the mansion. hahahaha! 

Momo, while upset that she can’t see what’s going on anymore, praises Sakura for her for her quick thinking and mentions that neither she or Akiho’s mother accurately predicted how powerful Sakura would become. The implications of this are unknown as it is unclear what they are trying to stop to begin with. 

The scene changes back to Kaito and Sakura’s ‘standoff’, and Kaito states that Sakura cannot stay hidden in SIEGE’s field forever. I believe he was trying to stir a reaction and speed things up as probably the longer he has his time spell up, the more it affects his body, so he cannot afford to waste any more time. In what appears to be his way of showing desperation (at least in my opinion), he points his staff in Syaoran’s direction and threatens Sakura by stating that “He will make the first move” if she won’t. My jaw dropped a this, and though I don’t believe he actually had any intentions of hurting Syaoran, just the implications and threat of it was enough to make my blood boil. Lmao. 

BUT ONCE AGAIN, SAKURA IS QUEEN and reacts ridiculously fast to protect her man and uses one of her newest cards, TRANSFER, to switch places with Kaito and....well...she put him in a box. Hahahaha!! Seeing Kaito all crammed in that small space inside of SIEGE was honestly so satisfying and it was nice to see him on the losing side for once. I can’t imagine he was happy about it either. He’s used to things going his way, and in this particular venture, it has been anything but. 

However, this unfortunately also becomes Sakura’s downfall. By switching places with him, she put herself out of the protection she had before and was now affected by Kaito’s time magic. She managed to take a few steps, running towards Syaoran, before she ultimately was stopped. Kaito makes mention of her progress. When you think about it, she’s gone from being able to move a pinky to moving as far as she did this time, so it’s a significant growth. 

He goes on to talk, though it’s unclear if Sakura could hear him at all, about a phrase Akiho had learned in her Japanese dictionary one time about “growing leaps and bounds”. He seemed lost in a memory where Akiho spoke of how she wished to improve her Japanese so she could become even better friends with Sakura and the others, and how happy she looked when she spoke of this. Honestly, this sentiment from Akiho is super relatable and resonated with me. I am fortunate to have so many friends in so many different parts of the world, and I absolutely love learning about their cultures and words of their native language so that I can become closer to them. But what also makes this moment so meaningful is that in this particular moment, Kaito is thinking about Akiho and her smile. One may wonder “Why is he saying this right now?”, but it really does display how much Akiho is on his mind and how much he cares about her and his reasons for doing all of this. 

Shortly after saying this, he seems to be in pain again, showing once again the deterioration of his body the more he uses time magic, and it seems clear that he really is getting closer to his own demise. He even says as much when he pleads to Sakura to please make the card he needs soon, before he runs out of time. I don’t think he’s necessarily displaying a will to live or anything yet, but more a “I have to get this done before I perish, or it will all be for nothing”. 

Disappointingly, time is rewound once again, and he takes it back to before he and Akiho decided on a location for their outing. @meimi-haneoka​ mentioned this, and I agree with her, but he could have rewound to any point in time and could have completely undone their entire day, but he chose to still have that outing with her anyways. It was a conscious choice he made, though he quite casually made sure they changed the choice of location (for obvious reasons). Lmao!!! 

Now we get to the really exciting part. So after Kaito rewound time, I gave a big sigh and thought “Well, here we go again”, but something was very different this time. Sakura’s serious expression standing in her hallway said it all, and she suddenly grabbed her phone from her purse and called Syaoran, saying “We need to talk. It’s important”. 

So Syaoran, being the most adorable worried boyfriend he is, runs into her house literally in the next panel and immediately asks if Sakura is okay. I can imagine that he probably ran the entire way to her house too, and it’s just so wholesome I can’t even. It’s crazy how well CLAMP shows the strength of their love just through small actions like these, and it really is a work of art with its subtleties. 

Kero and Suppi have not been told why Sakura’s behaving so seriously, as she was waiting for Syaoran to get there first, but soon enough she tells them all at once about how she remembers using SIEGE at the botanical garden. This understandably confuses Syaoran, since in his mind they haven’t even gone there yet. But, she goes on to explain that she remembers using SIEGE, but more importantly that she remembers seeing Kaito using magic. This is HUGE. Not only is this progress (have we finally gotten out of rewind hell?), but this means that Sakura likely will not be nearly as affected by any time magic in the future. And if Kaito cannot make her forget about him using magic, that makes every action he does in the future very precarious. It’s unclear what the implications are of this revelation, but it’s going to entirely change how she reacts around Kaito, perhaps how she reacts around Akiho, and the dialogue she has with Syaoran. Syaoran should theoretically be able to talk to her now about Kaito and what he’s done so far and what they know, and I’m so so curious to see what Sakura will do with this knowledge. Will she be upset? Will she be mad? Certainly she won’t be happy to know that Kaito’s been forcibly keeping Syaoran silent, but Sakura is a forgiving person in nature, so it’s hard to say what she’ll do. 

Anyways, this chapter was incredible and I cannot wait to see how this develops from now on. I have a feeling things are going to get real intense here soon now that Kaito can’t control things like he’s been doing a majority of the series. Things are definitely different now, and honestly it’s about fucking time. 

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Maybe WE don’t believe in YOU!

It’s throwback Thursday time ... this is a goodie from 2009 (dragged kicking and screaming from Gossamer) ... oi, these things amuse me at times :)

any and all errors are from the original post and have not been changed to preserve giggles and chuckles :)

@today-in-fic​

&&&&&&&&&&

He saw her sitting halfway up the bleachers, amidst yelling parents and clapping children. He knew she'd gone outside a good 15 minutes ago but since she'd neglected to come back, he though he'd better go and collect her. He didn't move fast, more at his usual long-strided amble given there wasn't much to hurry about anymore. Since the police station was next to the elementary school fields, he didn't have far to walk; soon standing beside the rickety aluminum riser seats.

She didn’t notice him at first but when she did a general sweep of her surroundings, as was natural habit at this point, she lit on his face staring up at her and with a barely noticed head-tilt, she gave him a half smile.

Figuring this was an invite of the most discreet kind, he picked his way through the scattered crowd, settling next to her without a word. Silently, they sat together through the last minutes of the game as well as through the exodus of people, kids, strollers and family dogs.

It wasn't until the last person stepped off the field that Mulder turned to her, squinting against the late afternoon sun, "hi."

Pushing her hair back, only to have the light breeze ruffle it again, "hi."

"So, got a little tired of Sheriff Blowhard and his parade of blightless minions?"

"A little. There's only so much blowharding and blightlessness one can take. Besides,” nodding towards the now deserted field, "they looked like they needed another fan."

Knocking shoulders with her gently, "you know, if we get our paperwork done, we can get the hell out of Dodge."

Holding silent for a moment, "promise me our next case won't be like this. I don't think I can do this again anytime soon."

"Well, I'll try to order us up a nice, juicy monster but don't hold your breath."

"Just promise to try. That's all I ask."

One glance into her tired, dull eyes made him nod, "promise."

"All right then." Standing and holding her hand out to him, "let's, as you put it, get the hell out of Dodge."

"If only the place was actually called Dodge."

"Getting the hell out of Parson Village doesn't exactly have the same ring to it, does it?"

Finally down on the ground, they walked back across the parking lot, "not really."

&&&&&&&&&

Working through the last of the forms, they said good-bye and left, glad to be leaving the place behind them. The drive back to the hotel was quiet but a companionable quiet, one where Mulder left the radio off and Scully stared out the open window, enjoying the fresh air and the colors of the setting sun.

Back at the hotel, "do you still want to leave now or wait until the morning?"

He knew she would prefer to go than stay and since he wasn't tired, "now works for me." Checking out went by in a flash and once Mulder had made a not so secretive trip to the vending machines, they were off, "you sure you want to drive first? I'm awake."

Scully just turned the car on, "I'm good for now. I'll let you know when it's your turn."

"Fair enough." Putting his seat back to a decent incline, he settled in, "mind if we keep the windows open for awhile?"

She gave him a smile, "as long as you don't mind me having the wind blown look."

"Naw, you wear it well."

"Okay, now you're just buttering me up."

With a laugh, he rested one arm at his side, the other on the middle compartment, hand dangling by the shifter, "just say thanks, Scully."

"Thanks, Mulder."

He was feeling a bit mischievous but held off until they had been on the road for a few minutes. From his position, he could tell no one else was on the quiet country road and in a fairly nonchalant way, he made like he was turning on the radio but instead, pushed the shifter forward into neutral.

The engine revved, Scully looked around in panic, then saw Mulder's hand beside the stick, "what the hell?" Shoving it back in drive, she swung and hit him near full force in the chest, "are you insane?"

Now for the fun part.

Wincing, he curled his arms to his chest, pretending the blow had actually hurt him, "damn. I was just gonna turn the radio on. I bumped it on accident." Plastering an appropriate grimace on his face, "there's less painful ways to kill me, you know."

Her face scrunching in honest apology, "I'm so sorry. I thought you did it on purpose. I … I'm sorry."

Rubbing his chest for good measure, "remind me to ask before moving next time." The urge to laugh nearly won but he held it in, "I feel extremely sorry for any suspects on the receiving end of your fist."

Automatically reaching over, she wrapped her hand around his forearm, "I'm sorry."

"S'okay." Wondering how long she'd keep her hand there, "was kind of funny though, wasn't it?"

She shrugged, "maybe it will be later but right now, I just feel bad."

"No harm, no foul, right?"

Keeping her hand on him with no sign of letting go, "right."

&&&&&&&&&

They switched places a few hours later, Scully beginning to yawn and stretch to keep herself awake. Mulder, who'd managed a nap, readjusted the seat and mirrors before looking over at her, "all set?" Head already lolling on the seat and eyes closed, she only nodded.  As always amused by the swiftness she could fall asleep, he pulled the car out of the gas station and back on the freeway.She slept for about a half-hour, then woke again when he hit a bump in the road, "sorry."

Shaking the cobwebs from her brain, "no, it's okay." After re-positioning the seat back, she stared out the window for a minute before, "where are we, anyway?"

When he turned to look around, she swiftly reached over, flipping a small switch on the dash, "we're about 10 miles from the middle of nowhere."

"That's specific."

He gave her a lopsided grin before looking back through the windshield.

She wondered how long it would take for him to notice.

Not long, she soon discovered.

Taking a cursory glance at the speedometer, he slammed on the brakes, throwing them both forward slightly, "what the hell?" When he had looked, he saw in horror that he was doing 120. Still talking to himself, "there's no way in hell I was doing 120."

Playing along, "what?! You're going 120? I don't need to die tonight, Mulder."

"I didn't realize …"

"Just slow the hell down!!"

He shrank into the seat and heart pounding, he brought his speed back to 75 but when looking out the window, he would swear they were nearly crawling. She then watched him look from the speedometer to the road to the speedometer once again, then to the smile she couldn't contain, "why the hell are all the gauges in metrics now?"

Reaching over, she re-flipped the switch, turning everything back to normal, "did you really think I'd let the neutral thing go unanswered?"

Instead of being annoyed, he looked at her admirably, "nice."

&&&&&&&&&

She was sound asleep again an hour later when Mulder discovered he was contemplating how long he could shut his eyes before it got dangerous. Poking his finger into Scully's thigh, "hey, you awake?"

When she only mumbled, he knew they were both done for the night but with only an hour left to go, he debated pushing it.

Until he heard his tires running on the rumble strip.

Yeah, it was time to stop.

Especially when he saw it … a bright beacon of hope in the distance.

Wal-Mart.

24-hour, anyone can sleep in the damn parking lot, beautiful, shiny Wal-Mart.

He pulled off the exit ramp and soon, he stopped the car in the center of a vast expanse of parking lot. Cracking the windows so they wouldn’t suffocate, he put his seat back, stretched and promptly fell asleep.

A blissful sleep that lasted almost a full two hours, until, “what the hell?”

The sound of her voice jolted him upright and his hand caught the horn, beeping it obnoxiously as he blinked against the painfully bright light in his eyes, “huh?”

By now, she was rolling down the window and being the least polite he’d ever heard her, “what!?”

The flashlight lowered but all Mulder could see was the spot it had burned into his retinas. The spot spoke in a low, male voice, “evenin’ folks.”

Again, Scully rolled off with, “what!?!”

“Just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

He could feel Scully building rapidly towards some other, more improper phrases and heading her off with a hand on her arm, “we were tired and thought we’d take a nap instead of wrapping ourselves around a telephone pole.” As the spot began to fade, he could make out an older gentleman behind the lowered flashlight, “I thought people could park and sleep here for the night?”

“RVs can park but ya’ll aren’t in an RV so I thought maybe you were havin’ some trouble.”

Hearing Scully sigh resignedly through her nose, he spoke again, “no trouble, sir. Just tired.”

“Well, ya’ll be careful.”

As he turned and walked away, Mulder looked at her irate expression, “hi.”

“You’re coming with me.”

“Where?”

Unbuckling her belt, “I have to go to the bathroom and you’re coming with me.”

Opening his door, “why are you pissed at me? I didn’t scare the shit out of you with a flashlight.”

“Just come on.”

She stalked across the parking lot, Mulder trotting to catch up, then settling into an easy gait until they got to the store entrance, “are you gonna make me come in with you or do I get to wait outside the door?”

With eyes narrowed, she left him in the entryway and disappeared into the ladies room. Deciding to go himself, he still beat her back and was leaning on the wall when she came out drying her hands on her jeans. She seemed calmer and leaning next to him, “I’m hungry.”

Gesturing through the doors that led to the actual store, “I bet there’s something in there, if you’re willing to risk it.”

“Lead the way, partner.” Both were shocked by the amount of people in the store, “what time is it anyway?”

Finding her wrist with his hand, he twisted her watch around until he could read it, “um, 1:15.”

“Why are all these people here? Don’t they have homes and beds?”

“Insomniacs make the best shoppers.”

She let a small chuckle escape her nose, “just find me something to eat.”

Well, she should have known not to A) shop when she was hungry and 2) shop with Mulder. She should have also put her foot down when he suggested getting a cart.

An hour later, they were finally through the checkout.

Scully had found some sandwiches, drinks and chips for them both, then stupidly gave Mulder control of the cart. He immediately steered towards the entertainment section and was soon pawing through the $3.99 DVD bin.

That killed a half-hour right there. Damn those bins and their B-movie classics.

After he’d found several handfuls of movies, he veered through men’s clothing for socks, housewares for a new shower curtain (which Scully silently thanked God about), hardware to replace the two flashlights he’d left in their hotel rooms, back to menswear  for the underwear he’d forgot on the first trip (black boxer briefs, much to Scully’s amusement), then finally through women’s clothing, where he stopped in front of a rack of slogan t-shirts.

Standing for a moment, he studied them, then picked one up with an alien beside a spaceship who was pointing out and stating, “maybe WE don’t believe in you.” Holding it against her for a second, he tossed it in the cart and finally moved to the check-out.

She followed, dumbfounded by the last hour of her life, “Mulder … why …?”

“Shhhh, it’s too late to argue and too early to win.”

Whatever the hell that meant, she graciously allowed him to pay for their food, along with the industrial size Payday bar she tossed in at the last minute.

&&&&&&&&&&&

As they ate their makeshift dinner sitting in the car, “why did you buy me that t-shirt? Do you really think I’m gonna wear it?”

Grinning with a mouthful of half-chewed turkey, “you will. You’ll be getting dressed for something and you’ll just get the urge to put it on. So you will and you’ll realize you like it and that’ll be that.”

“Is this how you get your shopping done because I can see why your cupboards are bare.”

“Never ask about a man’s shopping habits.”

“Mulder?”

“Yeah?”

“Trade you sandwiches?”

He handed the rest of his sandwich to her immediately, taking her partially eaten roast beef in its place, “no dressing?”

“Nope.”

“So much to teach you, grasshopper.”

&&&&&&&&&

“I’ll drive if you want me to.”

Scully shook her head, “naw, I’m fine.”

“Well, I’m not tired now so I’ll keep you awake.”

With a grin in his direction, “God help me.”

“God’s probably asleep Scully. All you got is me.”

“Again, God help me.”

&&&&&&&&&&

They were finally navigating Washington’s outskirts by 3:30. He watched her staring ahead and fought the demon lurking inside him.

He really shouldn’t.

He really, really shouldn’t.

It would be evil and wrong and cruel and more than likely funny as all hell … if she didn’t kill him afterwards.

 …

He’d risk it.

Waiting another minute or so, he spied a light blinking in the distance and as they approached it, he braced his feet against the floor. Once they were about 10 feet away, he yelled, gripping the dashboard and the doorframe, “blinking yellow!!!”

She locked up the brakes, as expected, and bought the car to a screeching halt. The stop flung both forward, then back against their seats, with Scully screaming in his ear, “son of a bitch … it’s yellow Mulder! I don’t have to stop for a blinking yellow!”

Looking at her with as much seriousness as he could muster, “I didn’t tell you to stop.”

“Then why the hell did you yell ‘blinking yellow’ in my ear!?”

“I didn’t know if you saw it.”

He had never witnessed her nostrils flaring before and though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, she looked kind of cute doing it but … “are you trying to get us killed?”

He was now smiling despite the fact she had steam shooting out her ears, “there was no one behind us. I checked.”

Another nostril flare came his way before she turned the car off, still sitting in the middle of the intersection, got out and moving to his side of the car, pulled open the door, “drive.”

Still grinning, he scrambled over the gearshift, Scully sliding smoothly into his seat, putting her head back and closing her eyes.

Silence, he had not expected. Yelling, hitting, yes but not quiet. Quiet from Scully meant planning, concocting, calculating, organizing … quiet meant bad things … quiet meant very deep piles of shit with him underneath.

“Scully …”

“Home.”

Suddenly sober, he restarted the car, “I was just playing.”

“Home,” she repeated, then, instead of returning to sleep, she dug some gum from the glove compartment and proceeded to chew a wad of it, very loudly.

Now, he could take bullets, he could take slime, he could take beratement of the highest degree and, as demonstrated, he could even take bile but he absolutely despised the cud-chewing noises she was making. He withstood it for a long as humanly possible before, “could you please get rid of that? You sound like a damn cow.”

“You want me to get rid of the gum?”

“Yes!”

“Where do you want me to put it?”

His mistake was answering too quickly, “anywhere. I don’t care. Just stop chewing it.”

“Okay then.” Undoing her seatbelt, she twisted so she faced him, and in a gracefully disgusting move, she rolled the gum in her fingers, then proceeded to push it up his nose.

He knew something was coming and completely powerless to stop it, he just sat there as a thumb-size chunk of grape Hubba-Bubba was fitted into his right nostril.

She then calmly sat back down and re-buckled herself in.

He left the gum there as he turned to her, “Scully?”

“Yes, Mulder.”

“I believe we’re even now.”

Her belly laugh echoed off the windows and he began laughing as well, slipping the gum from his nose and putting it in his mouth.

Through her laughter, she grimaced, “eww, that’s disgusting.”

“But it’s grape.”

&&&&&&&&&

They finally made it to Mulder’s apartment and since her brain had drifted completely, she didn’t really notice where they were until he stopped the car, “why are we here?”

“Literally or existentially because I don’t think I can take a metaphysical discussion at the moment?”

“Literal.”

“You drove. You drop me off then drive yourself home.”

“Where’s your car, Mulder?”

Pointing to where he always parked, he saw an empty spot, “your house.” His head dropped to the steering wheel, “damn.” Looking at her out of the corner of his eye, “I’ll take you home.”

“No. I want out of the damn car and I want to go to sleep. Right now.”

“Then grab the bags from the store … I’ll get the suitcases.” They managed to make it in his door before dropping everything simultaneously. Mulder then re-picked up her bag and set it in his bedroom, “I’ll take the couch.”

“No, I will. I shoved gum up your nose.”

“And I yelled ‘blinking yellow’.”

Contemplating for a half second, “you’re right.”

He gave her a grin, “just help me change the sheets first.” Nodding, she had the bed stripped by the time he came back with a clean set. They finished in no time and he stepped back, nodding his head, “two people make that way faster.”

“Anytime Mulder but for now, I’m using your bathroom then going to bed.”

“Aye, aye captain.”

Meeting him in the hall on the way back from the bathroom, “g’night, Mulder.”

“’Morning, Scully.”

Before going to the bedroom, she grabbed one last thing, then changed, crawled under the clean sheets and was out before her head hit the pillow.

&&&&&&&&&&

He woke up leisurely. The phone hadn’t rung, no one had knocked on his door, obnoxious garbage men hadn’t rattled the dumpsters … he had woken up because he had finally caught up on his sleep. Marveling at the idea, he stood and moved silently towards his bedroom to check to see if she was awake yet.

Finding her spread eagle on her stomach, covers twisted around her and bare leg sticking out, foot hanging off the side of the bed, he nearly laughed when he saw her wearing the neon green t-shirt he’d bought the night before.

Deciding to let her sleep, he went to the bathroom, then made himself a bowl of cereal. By the time he’d sat down with his second helping, he heard the creak of his bedroom door. Looking up, he saw her standing there, hair tousled, eyes partially open, wearing only the t-shirt, which fell to mid-thigh. Swallowing the frogs in her throat, “’morning.”

After a glance at the DVD player’s clock, “afternoon.” Without comment, she padded across the cool floor and dropped down next to him, curling her legs underneath her. Covering them with his blanket, she reached over, took the spoon and helped herself to a large spoonful of cereal. Shaking the milk off, she had it nearly to her mouth when he finally spoke, “I thought you said you’d never wear that shirt?”

As the cereal entered her mouth, her lips quivered in the slightest of smiles, “shut up, Mulder.”

[vanderlindemorgans]

Cross My Heart (Chapter 4)

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Rating: Explicit/18+

Summary: A traitorous Agent Whiskey returns to the United States on the run. Being cast out by Statesman, he soon finds that you’re the only person he can turn to - the embittered former flame from years long passed

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: Eventual smut, some references to alcoholism and drug use. Reader is in her late twenties but there is an age gap between her and Whiskey. Chapter specific warnings: heavy drinking, someones arm gets broken, also some very vague mentions of a shootout, reader is in denial about being in denial (so the usual pretty much)

Read on AO3 | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

You thought it would just be one coffee. One simple mistake as a result of you being extra tired, or something like that. You’d give it to him, hear his stupid little remark meant to rile you up, and then it’d be done - it would never happen again. 

Here’s the thing, though: you kept making more. After that day, every morning when you woke up, you’d grab two coffee mugs and make one for the both of you - yours with extra cream, his straight black. You knew he liked to add a shot of whiskey to his, even though you pretended not to notice when he not-so-discreetly pulled his flask out. Whatever he needed to get through the day, you shrugged, watching him out of the corner of your eye. You certainly weren’t about to judge him for his drinking habits in light of your own less than stellar track record. 

Neither of you dared to mention it so far. You hoped to high heaven that he wouldn’t: his little tease on that first day was barely enough to get under your skin though it had stuck to the back of your mind every morning you woke up. You’re not getting soft on him, are you?

Shaking your head furiously, you let out a low frustrated sigh as you moved to reach out for the bottle of wine next to you once more, flicking off the top and pouring almost a good half of the bottle’s contents into your glass. It was a Wednesday night but you didn’t much care - if the hangover was that bad the next morning, and it never usually was with a shiraz, you’d get some painkillers and get on with your day. The same thought as before repeated itself in your mind again, doing nothing short of vexing you further. Partially because you were worried it was true. Maybe you were getting soft on him. Maybe you weren’t as strong and stubborn as you thought if Jack Daniels had managed to worm his way back into your heart.

No. That couldn’t be it. You tossed your head back and indulged yourself in a rather large gulp of wine, letting the liquid rush down your throat in a desperate attempt to dilute the pitiful nonsense that had filled your head. What a ridiculous thought. You weren’t falling for Jack Daniels charm once more. No, you simply wouldn’t do that. You knew better than that. You knew that underneath that smooth facade was a flitting and emotionally unavailable man, the man who had broken your heart and made you suffer for what felt like evermore. You may have felt pity on him for his fall from grace, but anyone else would if they saw the state of him. Discarding the glass off to the side, you wanted to laugh at the simple absurdity of such an idea. Are you always this stupid with a wine-addled brain? 

Speaking of the devil, you heard his footsteps from up the stairs, taking you by surprise as you were certain that he was asleep by now. You crocked your head to the side, your eyes travelling up the stairwell to the small part of the landing that was in your immediate vision - you couldn’t catch a single sight of him. Shrugging to yourself, you returned to your almost empty glass of wine, feeling that familiar haze descend over your brain with every sip you took. This was fine. You could let yourself be swallowed by the alcohol, maybe even enjoy the fact that your nerves were loosened for just this once. If it could take all that shit away, then you’d gladly let it. And as for Jack? You’d continue on as you were: barely acknowledging his existence, and regarding him as nothing more than a ghost from your past. That’s what you wanted, right?

You’re lying to yourself and you know it.

Blinking your eyes rapidly, you stared out into the space in front of you, your mind lost a million miles away while you were in complete and utter astonishment over those few words that had crossed your mind. Things were quiet, still, even peaceful in a way, only for a second anyhow. That was before the rush came, that incensed anger that flashed across your mind for barely a moment, settling down into something resembling vague annoyance, directed at none other than yourself. Where the hell did that come from? For god's sake, get a grip on yourself. Standing up abruptly, you didn’t even stumble as you advanced back over to the liquor cabinet, dropping to your knees and scanning the tops of the glistening glass bottles under the dim lamp light. Your eyes landed on the bourbon you had stashed at the back and you reached out for it, carefully lifting it above all the others despite your intoxicated state. Resting the bottle against the palm of your hand, you let your fingers trace the grooves in the molded glass, a small bit of hesitation working its way into your mind, hesitation that was swiftly kicked aside in favour of that pesky little buzz that danced around the back of your head, that stupid little crumb of self doubt that refused to fucking leave. 

Guess I’m gonna need a bottle of something stronger to kick this shit. 

___

He didn’t know why he kept watching you. You weren’t doing anything particularly notable - you’d decided to take one of the horses out for a ride, practicing vaulting and the like. He remembered you’d once told him that as a young kid that you’d entered a number of equestrian competitions, and even won a few - he’d seen the trophies gathering dust on the mantle and the cute photos of you posing with your chosen horse, Buttercup, as a child. You explained years ago that you’d stopped participating in competitions but still liked to take the horses out for a spin every once in a while as a way to relax and clear your head. As he watched you now, he could already see the stressors of the day melting away from your visage, leaving only a steely focused expression in its wake as you cleared another jump. 

It was the first time in weeks he’d seen you truly relaxed at all, or showing any sort of emotion other than your usual show of cheerfulness you splashed on for the customers, woven with a current of underlying stress and irritation. Seeing you like this couldn’t help but remind him of better times: you’d taken him out on the horses more than a couple of times when the two of you were together. Jack had always labelled himself as something of an animal lover, ever since he was a kid. He didn’t, and hadn’t, had any pets for a good ten years now though at some point long ago he wanted something similar to what you had - a nice ranch situated out in his home state of Kentucky with a bunch of animals and his family. That dream had seemed so close to him once that he could have sworn it would be a reality yet fate wasn’t so kind to him in that regard. The memory of it all alone hadn’t ceased to become any less painful to him: seeing the broadcast on the news of a shootout down at a local convenience store only to get the call moments later confirming what he’d already feared to have happened most. 

Not a day passed where he didn’t wish he could go back to a time before that day, where even the simple idea of having a family didn’t seem so foreign and unattainable. He felt himself grip onto the wooden bar of the veranda just a tad bit tighter the longer his thoughts fixated on it, though the sound of a piercing shriek immediately brought his attention back to you, his eyes darting around in a frenzy, determined to know what had caused you to cry out in agonising pain. Upon seeing your body lain flat on the ground he rushed forward, vaulting himself over the edge of the varanda and calling out your name. “Are you alright, sugar?” he shouted, throwing open the gate to the ring and racing over towards where you were lying. The faint sounds of you whimpering did nothing short of send him into panic mode, seeing how much it hurt you to move only adding to his worry. “I’m fine, I just...the dumb horse got spooked by something and bucked me off” you groaned, struggling to pull yourself up, leading you to let out another loud yelp when you tried to move your left arm.

Swooping in to catch you before you fell, Jack gently reached for your arm and pulled it towards him, his eyes widening the moment he caught sight of the horrific fracture done to it. “Darlin’, don’t lie to me, you’re not fine. Arms are not meant to look like this!” he stressed, studying your eyes intensely, trying to gauge if you had some sort of a concussion. They were slightly glazed over, and your gaze kept wandering from him as if you were having trouble focusing. “How’s your head feelin’, sweetheart?”. 

“Kinda dazed. Hurts like a bitch as well” you grumbled, leaning your head against his shoulder slightly. Every bone in your body felt like it was screaming at you like some sort of symphony, the pain in your arm being the worst of all. Your vision had also become slightly blurry and kept splitting double every few seconds, only contributing to your general haziness. Your thoughts were running a mile a minute, scattered around your brain and refusing to slow down. Suddenly, you felt yourself being lifted off the ground and up into Jack’s arms, your head lolling slightly against his forearm as he carried you back up to the house. Running through your memory, you couldn’t really remember what had happened fully: you had just made another jump and were circling around the ring to gain speed for another when suddenly you were on the ground and your horse, Molly, was a few feet ahead of you. 

Jack brought you up to the varanda and laid you down on the bench, grabbing one of the old decorative throw pillows you had to rest your head on.“Stay here for a moment, I’m gonna get you some ice, then I’m gonna call an ambulance and get ya to an emergency room” he instructed before ducking back inside the house.

“Is that really necessary, Jack?” you shouted out after him, leading him to stick his head back out the door to look at you incredulously. “Sweetheart, your arm is broken and you're clearly concussed. I think the situation more than calls for it” he replied with a deadpan tone, disappearing back into your house to find you some ice. Resting your head back against the pillows, you turned to see Molly trotting around near the edge of the fenceline, acting as if she hadn’t just thrown you off her back for no apparent reason at all. 

“Yeah, just had to buck me off, didn’t ya? Thanks asshole!” you shouted out, doing your best to ignore the persistent throbbing in the side of your head and the dull ache from where your arm was rested. Thankfully, partially due to the concussion probably, it didn’t feel as bad as before, though at the same time you could have just simply become more tolerant of the pain. Not to say it didn’t still hurt like literal hell or that it was any less easy to take notice of. 

“Honeybee, I get you’re in pain but yelling at the horse isn’t doing anything” you heard Jack say to you as he made his entrance once more, holding a tea towel containing several large blocks of ice in his hand. Muttering out a small ‘thank you’, you took the towel in your hands and pressed it against the swell of your arm, letting out a small hiss the second you felt the sharp sting of the cold on your skin. “I know yelling at the horse does nothing, but it’s making me feel better” you grumbled. 

“Is it? Is it really?” Jack scoffed, subsequently choosing to ignore the sharp death glare you gave him after his flippant remark. “I’ve called an ambulance, they’ll be here to get you to a proper hospital in no time. You really had me worried there when I heard you scream”.

“Oh, so you do care about me after all” you jeered, your signature sarcastic edge seeping through your tone. You shifted slightly to try to position yourself up a little more so that you could face him properly yet as you moved a heavy sting of pain shot through you, causing you to yelp out a little and tense up in response. As if it were instinctual to him, Jack moved towards you and helped you settle back down. “Try not to move too much until the ambulance gets here” he directed. You didn’t know if it was your imagination or not, but you could have sworn his hand lingered on your forehead a second longer than it should have, his fingertips brushing against your skin and leaving a burning sensation in their wake, something that, shamefully so, made your heart skip a small beat. “Now, about me not caring - sugar, when are you gonna accept that no matter what happened between us that I still care about you as a person?” he asked. Shoving those thoughts to the back of your mind, you settled on glaring back at him with a quick witted quip to combat him, because that’s all he was to you: an annoyance, a nuisance, a royal pain in the ass. You were doing him a favour by letting him stay with you. There was nothing more to this.

“Try never, asshole” you snapped, one note harsher than you originally intended. As usual whenever you bit back at his banter, Jack shrugged and rested back into the wall he was standing against. For once, though, you felt bad at snapping at him like that - there wasn’t any need for it, he was only trying to help. Not knowing if you could fully coax the words ‘I’m sorry’ from your mouth, you settled on something less apologetic but still sort of the message across. “But...really, thank you. For, y’know, helping me out here” . 

Jack looked at you for a moment, somewhat taken aback at what you’d said before he softened a bit.“Of course, sugar. Call it returning the favour for taking care of me a couple of weeks back” he answered, giving you that sweet smile of his that hadn’t managed to unweave itself from those old memories. And for once, you allowed yourself to smile weakly in return.

[obeyme-kaidii-writes]

Beginnings (1/9)

Mammon x ace gn!MC x ace!Leviathan

Words - 12,000ish (total)

Content warnings - angst, some internalized acephobia, insecurity, polyamory, asexual relationship, lots of cuddles and fluff and comfort

NOTE - Mammon and MC have a 100% consensual sexual relationship. No details beyond that are given.

Prompt/inspiration - a new take on my existing headcanons and previous stories

Summary - One day you suggest a polyamorous relationship with Levi to Mammon, and he loses his cool. Will Mammon be able to make things right? And will Levi ever get a chance to tell you how he feels?

[ AO3 | Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 ]

You and Mammon were practically inseparable.

From your first day in the Devildom it seemed, the two of you were always together. Of course, those first few weeks weren’t exactly while you were on the best of terms with each other. But soon your choice to spend time together came from a genuine interest in one another. And after awhile, you both had even fallen in love.

You just fit so well together. You shared a similar sense of humor, you enjoyed the same sorts of movies, you both even had a mutual love of spicy food. Physically, you felt the two of you were quite compatible as well. You loved how good he was at taking care of you, and nothing made him happier than having you shower him in affection and praise. And sure, his sex drive was definitely higher than yours, but you both were figuring things out and making it work.

Mammon wasn’t the only brother you were getting close to, however. While you enjoyed cooking with Beel and swapping book recommendations with Satan, your time with Levi in particular was special to you. He always had a way of helping you relax, and his desire to stay in the comfort of his room gave you an excellent place to unwind and decompress. Despite the fact he could barely contain himself when speaking about one of his special interests, he typically kept to himself when immersed in whatever activity had caught his attention in that moment, which made him excellent company when you needed peace and quiet.

For the longest time, you thought friendship was all you wanted from Leviathan. And Levi made it pretty clear on numerous occasions that he considered you his best friend and nothing more. Well, at least that’s what he said. In the past few weeks you had caught him staring at you more than once in a way that was reminiscent of the love struck look Mammon often got when he didn’t think you were looking either.

You had heard from Asmodeus pretty early on in your stay that monogamy wasn’t the usual practice for demons. He had made sure you were well acquainted with certain aspects of demon relationships, partly to gauge your interest, and partly to stop you from inadvertently making a move on a random demon at RAD. You and Mammon had never talked specifically about the idea of an open or polyamorous relationship, and you got the dinstinct impression that he would have trouble sharing, but the more you thought about Levi, the more you wanted to see if you could make it work with both of them.

One evening after dinner, you were relaxing in Mammon’s room, doing nothing in particular. He was reading some magazine about Devildom fashions (and where to buy them), and you were reclined with your head in his lap as you scrolled through Devilgram.

“Got somethin’ you wanna say?” Mammon finally asked with a light blush on his cheeks. Apparently you had been staring at him for the past few minutes and it was making him a bit self conscious.

“Wha? Oh, sorry,” you replied, giving him a soft smile before you nuzzled against his leg. You looked up at him again, only to find that he was now attempting to hide his face behind the pages of his magazine, hoping you wouldn’t catch sight of the smile that was tugging at his lips.

“Hey, Mammon. Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah sure,” he was glad to have something to talk about that he could distract himself with.

“What do you think of polyamory?” you asked, raising one of your hands to comb through what you could reach of his hair. You just loved how soft it was, and it had quickly become a habit whenever you two were talking that you would run your fingers through it as you were doing now.

“Eh? I dunno. Why?” Mammon sat his magazine down to give you his full attention. This was definitely an odd conversation topic, if there ever was one. He thought maybe Satan had given you some weird book recently, because it never would have occurred to him what you were about to ask.

“Well...I was wondering if you’d be open to trying something like that…?”

“Pfft, like you’d need anyone else with the Great Mammon to keep ya company!” he teased with a cocky grin. It was simple - there was no reason for you to be close to anyone else like that, because he was so good at making you happy...right?

“Oh,” you tried to shrug it off and turn your attention back to your DDD. This wasn’t how you had hoped this conversation would go, though you weren’t sure exactly how you had hoped it would go either.

But Mammon noticed the look on your face, and a small seed of doubt had started to take root in his heart. Just a tiny twinge of pain. The thought of you being any less than satisfied with him was one he spent a considerable amount of effort avoiding, but now it was creeping up on him.

“Why? Didya have someone in mind?”

He had only meant it as a joke, really. He wasn’t expecting you to answer. Or rather, he was hoping you wouldn’t. And when you didn’t respond immediately the sinking feeling in his gut only grew.

You looked up at Mammon and could see the strain in his smile. He was trying hard to look unaffected, but it was obvious to you that he wasn’t too keen on this idea. So you sat up, tucking one leg under yourself as you turned to face him on the sofa. You were having second thoughts now about bringing this up, but you knew that if you tried to back out of the conversation now, Mammon would surely only get more anxious and panicked.

“Well, I was thinking about Levi…” you answered, cautiously, carefully studying Mammon’s face as you tried to gauge his reaction. You knew he never would have entertained the idea if you had said Lucifer, but a small part of you hoped since he and Levi were pretty close, he’d be more receptive to the possibilities.

You would, of course, be wrong.

In fact, you saw the exact moment Mammon’s heart broke and his emotions shifted from insecurity, to hurt, to anger. You went to open your mouth, to try to explain, but he did not give you the opportunity.

“Him? Why wouldya wanna go out with that weeb?” he asked, his voice dripping with disdain.

“Hey! If you don’t like the idea just say so! You don’t have to attack Levi!” you stared at Mammon, shocked at his reaction. Hurt and tears wouldn’t have surprised you, but this anger was something else and you weren’t sure where it was coming from.

“Oh so ya gonna defend him?”

“Of course I’m going to defend him. He’s my best friend,” you snapped back, your eyes narrowing.

“And what am I then? Huh?”

“Mammon, that’s…”

“What, ya got one Avatar so you thought it would be easy to snag another? Who ya gonna go after next? Lucifer?!”

SLAP

“Don’t. You. Fucking. Dare.” by now, angry tears had started to gather in your eyes, and you could feel your hands shaking, your palm still stinging from the contact, “If you don’t like the idea, fine. But don’t you dare belittle my feelings for you or your brother.”

You glared at Mammon for another moment before swiftly pushing yourself off the sofa and heading towards his door. When your hand touched the door knob you paused, giving Mammon an opportunity to take back what he said, but all that was to be heard was a deafening silence.

Without another word, you left, slamming the door behind you.

——————

In the days that followed, you made a point to avoid both Mammon and Levi. Even though Levi wasn’t at fault, you knew spending time with him right now would only muddy the waters further, and that was the last thing you needed. So, if you saw one of them coming, you were quick to adjust your course and head the opposite direction.

And you knew avoiding them both wasn’t exactly the mature thing to do. But you didn’t know what else to do either.

Was this it? Were you just supposed to break up with Mammon?

The memory of what he had said to you still made your heart ache whenever you thought of it, even if you knew he had been speaking from a place of hurt. You wanted to believe he didn’t really see you that way; that he knew how much you loved him, even if he didn’t know anything else, because you didn’t think you’d be able to stay with someone who thought so little of you.

So what was the alternative? Trying to talk to him again?

The thought was enough to make you laugh. You were certain that would go over like a lead balloon. It’s not like anything would have changed since the last time you had spoken to him. You still felt how you felt, and he was opposed. Which would have been fine had he been respectful about rejecting the idea. But he hadn’t, and instead lashed out at you in his typical tsundere fashion, just dialed up to 10.

You let out a sigh as you flopped on your bed, finally back in the safety of your room after an exhausting day at RAD.

Just what were you going to do?

[awesomerextyphoon]

A Warrior’s Heart | Phase 1: Welcome - 2

Girls’ Night

Summary: Ife begins her first ‘mission’ with the help of her friends.

Warnings: Swearing, Excessive Partying, Some Angst

Rating: Explicit/18+

Word Count: 4,145

Main Pairing: Stucky x Black!OFC (Ifekerenma ‘Ife’)

Characters: Ifekerenma, Wanda, Natasha, and Ife’s friends

A/N: I’m sorry that it’s been a while since my last chapter. Please practice self-care, everyone! Also, thanks to everyone who has given me feedback. Dividers were created by the wonderful @firefly-graphics​! Check them out!

Series Masterlist 

Main Masterlist

<<Previous

(late May 2015)

“Ah, that hits the spot!” Ife moaned as she submerged into her heated circular indoor pool.

So far the team has treated her well enough given how her first 24 hours went. No one had any major negative emotional echoes coming off of them and they even talked to her, especially Steve and Sam.

Her first mission was mostly a success.

The team was able to stop and apprehend the Macedonian weapons smuggler, Branko Stojanoski, before he made it to Paris with HYDRA/Chitauri stockpiles.

One would think that would be enough, but it left Ife with more questions. Why did some of the weapons look like Magitech? Why did one of the female combatants feel like more than human, like Natasha?

She needed to inform Eliza.

  After Ife finished her R&R, she made her way to the Common Room only to find Wanda practicing her powers while flying. Well, trying to anyway.

Ife had always felt that Wanda’s methods were lacking which made sense. Both Wanda and Pietro got their powers ten months ago when Strucker and HYDRA experimented on them. They’ve never really had the chance to practice, surrounded either by vicious idiots or well-meaning comrades who were seriously out of their depth.

Perhaps she would be the best place to start.

  Wanda was trying to levitate herself while taking apart the steel cube again with no luck. She couldn’t get herself in the ‘right mindset’ which was just aw well since she was always surrounded by chaos.

Their parents tried to shield both her and Pietro from the chaos outside their sanctuary of the apartment building. She even had friends in Angelika and Emil. They would pretend that they were exploring an enchanted forest and other fairy tale adventures. Pietro would join in when coaxed by Angelika (Wanda knew he liked her).

They were in their own little paradise...until the bombs came.

Wanda just got back from playing with Angelika and the music box that she got for her tenth birthday. Her mother was preparing Pietro’s favorite dinner when they heard the blaring of alarms and evacuation orders. Her father hurried them to the door, but their mother forgot to turn off the oven. He went back for her when the mortar shell hit their home.

Both of their parents died instantly. She and Pietro huddled together under the table for dear life when the second bomb landed four meters in front of them. They were in that position for two days wondering if the rescue efforts would sign their death warrants, all while glowering at the words engraved on the missile.

STARK INDUSTRIES

When the rescuers finally got them out, they found out that they were the only ones to survive the bomb raids. One of the rescuers handed Wanda Angelika’s music box thinking it was hers.

They attended their first Anti-US Imperialism protest three weeks later.

 ––––––––––

 Years passed and Wanda would sporadically spare a thought for her parents, Emil and Angelika. She kept wondering what they would do if they were in her place. Somedays the only she could remember Angelika was when she played the music box.

One day, a man simply known as List approached them after yet another protest of a craven leader. List said that he could give them the power to end all the revolutions and strife in Sokovia.

Frustrated with the lack of progress, she and Pietro agreed to the experiments along with 212 other volunteers. Once again, they were the only ones to survive.

List and Strucker subjected them to painful and demeaning ‘tests of strength’ not two days after they received their powers.

Both their hatred for HYDRA and their yearning to be free grew in the coming months. She almost gave up, until one day in early March when the Avengers finally found the base.

This was their chance.

 –––––––

 It wasn’t hard to plant a seed of chaos into Tony Stark. He already had one foot in the proverbial hero’s grave already. To be honest, she was surprised at how quickly the Avengers turned on each other. Witnessing their inner anguish was just desserts.

The problem was that it worked too well.

Sure, it was fair game to go after Tony, but Bruce? In retrospect, setting the Hulk loose on Istanbul was a low blow.

And Seoul….where to begin.

As soon as she caught a glimpse of the mass extinction Ultron desired, she knew they fucked up big time.

She and Pietro only wanted the Avengers and the US to fall, not wipe out all life on Earth! They knew that they had to swallow their pride and hate if Earth wasn’t going to have an unexpected turn of events (i.e. everything going the way of the Dodo).

Thankfully, the total death count was three (especially since reports put the worst-case scenario at least 15,000).

Although sometimes Wanda wondered if her drive for revenge was worth it.

  “Hi, Wanda! How’s it going?”

Wanda snapped out of her thoughts and turned around to find Ife with a warm smile.

She didn’t know what to think of Ife at first. Okay, besides the fact that she consumed enough food to feed a village in under two hours, she was kind. More importantly, she feared neither her nor her brother. She started cooking for the team and staff (turned out she’s what Sam calls a ‘supreme chef’), and would answer questions they had about non-humans. It’s just that something seemed amiss about her and the way she answered the questions like she’s hiding something.

Wanda returned the smile, “Not much.” Just trying to get a simple task done.

Ife pressed her lips together in contemplation, “I was wondering if you would like some help training. I’ve seen you practice by yourself and,” she hesitated for few seconds, ”well I figured you would like some help, or at least the company.”

“I would like that.”

“Great! Give me ten minutes.” And with that, Ife flew out of the room.

 “Okay, this is a magic gauge. Homo Magi and other Non-Humans use it to see where a person is power-wise.” Ife explained as Wanda approached the peculiar object.

The gauge was made of glass (at least Wanda hoped it was glass), double-gourd in shape with floral engravings.

It glowed Venetian Red with the intensity increasing the closer Wanda got. The glow’s color quickly turned Burnt Maroon then Red Ink once she touched it. Soon she felt a pull from the gauge as if it was reaching into her mind. Her anxiety flared up and Ife pulled her out of the way as the gauge exploded.

“Well, um...do you want to take a break and continue tomorrow? I’m so sorry about that, Wanda.”

“It’s alright. I’ll see you around dinner.”

“Okay.”

  “So, um how to put this...we might have a problem,” Ife stated as her friend group met virtually to discuss what to do for Girl’s Night.

“What is it, Ife?” Ashtoreth asked.

“Did they find out about your room? Or about the time when-”

“Okay, Djamila,” Itzel interjected, “Please continue.”

Ife shot Itzel a grateful grin, “Thanks ltzel. So you know how Eliza Maza tasked me with aiding the Avengers?”

“Yeah, so they can help us in the future? Figured someone from BNA would ask ya. Didn’t think it would be so soon.” Azeneth noted.

“Makes sense, they’ve been trying to get in with them for years now-” Mayumi started.

“Back to the direct topic at hand, is it possible that a few of you could help Wanda Maximoff?”

“The new Homo Magi that has the Magic Council up in arms?” Marama guessed as Ife grabbed the footage from earlier.

“Yeah. Take a look at this. I think we might have a problem on our hands.”

Ife watched as her friends’ expressions shifted from mild amusement to sad and worried. Except for Djamila and Gulmira, they had a good chuckle.

“I think Wanda has an affinity towards chaos magic, specifically reality-warping and possibly Hex Bolts. She might have more, I couldn’t tell. She’s more powerful than the Magic Council originally guessed. Although, that’s not the problem here.”

“She’s mentally and emotionally unstable,” Nermin stated.

“Right to the point, I see,” Marjani commented while examining her fingernails.

“Exactly. I fear that she may become a danger to herself and the planet.”

“And all of BNA’s hard work goes up in flames. So, what do you want to do, Ife?”

Ife bit her thumbnail in contemplation, “We have to train her. I can show her some of the basics, but the rest of us will have to train Wanda before she hurts herself. She’s barely making it on her own and let’s face it, no one else here knows fuck all about magic .”

“Hot in looks but clueless when it comes to magic and Non-Human affairs.”

“I wouldn’t say completely clueless, Azeneth.” Ife corrected, “I showed them ‘The Basic Bitch’s Guide’ and I’ve answered any basic question regarding Non-Humans. They’re not up to speed on BNA, but at least they know about dragons, yokai, and the Fae.”

“Ok. So, it’s safe to say that you’ll be keeping a tight lid on the UA, right?”

Ife sighed and offered Marama a small frown, “Yes. And it would be best that you do as well. Please?”

“No problem, Ife.” Ashtoreth assured her while the rest of the group nodded,” Now that we’ve settled the Wanda Matter, What are we going to do in celebration of Xiomara’s grand opening?”

  Several days passed and Wanda was making great progress in her magical studies with Ife (after Ife promised to make it up to her). She was getting the hang of levitation and flight as well as basic Magical Energy Manipulation in the form of force fields, telekinesis, illusions, and some basic spells.

It was nice to not have to rely on her anger nearly as much. Though she couldn’t access Ife’s mind. Not that she meant to, it was an accident.

Maybe in time, Ife will let her.

“Hey, Wanda. I was wondering,” Ife bit her thumbnail as she’s want to do, “Do you want to come to Girl’s Night with me this Saturday? One of my friends, Xiomara, just founded and opened her own design studio! The rest of us wanted to celebrate. I figured it would a great chance to introduce you to my friend group and have some time away from the Compound.”

Wanda lowered her head in thought. It would be nice to meet Ife’s friends and connect with individuals who don’t fear her. Getting off the Compound would be a great bonus.

“Sure. On one condition: Natasha has to come as well.”

“Okay.”

  After asking (slight begging) Natasha to join them for Girls’ Night, the trio agreed to meet outside of Ife’s quarters around 6:30 PM.

Natasha gently grabbed one of Wanda’s hands, “Relax, It’ll be fine.”

“I know. It’s just-”

At that moment, Ife stepped out into the hallway looking well, strikingly different. She was wearing a gold and sapphire mid-thigh length African wax print dress done in detailed petal designs. Most of her long Midnight Purple hair was in a single braid with a high, single wrap around the back of the head and a single row of gold bands down the middle of her scalp that she divided into three parts with a comb.

It was nice and a little weird seeing her outside of her uniform and tactical gear. She looked gorgeous!

“You came!” Ife beamed as she gave Wanda and Natasha a hug, “You look lovely,” she added noting their attire. Natasha was sporting a Faux Leather Mini Skirt with a Wine colored deep v-neck top. Wanda was dressed in a Spartan Crimson Deep V Bodice Satin Short A-Line dress.

“You look ravishing! You should be out of your normal gear more often!” Natasha praised as Ife frowned ever so slightly.

“Well, aren’t you going to let us in?” Wanda asked sensing Ife’s discomfort.

“Of course! Come in.” And with that, Ife welcomed the two heroines into her ‘apartment’.

  “You do realize that we’re having our Girls’ Night in your room from now on, right?” Natasha insisted as she and Wanda entered Ife’s living quarters.

“I figured,” Ife muttered as she turned to look at her teammates, “I know I sound like an asshole for asking this, but could you not tell the others yet?”

“Well, you agreed to let us frequent the room for our own Girls’ Night, so yes.” Wanda decided as the trio came to stop in front of a 20ft (6.1m) spherical door with an Art Nouveau design.

“Okay. Let me put in the codes and we’ll be on our way.”

“Make sure to get all the characters this time, Ife. You don’t’ want them to wait for 30 minutes like last time.” A pretty deep, easy-going masculine voice chimed in.

“What-” Wanda started.

“Oh, that’s BEBOP, my AI. He’s like FRIDAY or JARVIS, but cooler.”

“A lot cooler,” the voice said before materializing in front of the women,” Let’s try this again. Technically, my name is BEBOP, but you can call me Spike.” The holographic man was tall (6’4” / 1.93m), lean and athletic in build, had a fluffy mop of dark green hair, light brown eyes, and wore a navy blue leisure suit with the sleeves rolled up.

“So you created Spike?”

“I made BEBOP, but he named himself Spike,” Ife explained as she tried her darnedest to enter the codes before Spike embarrassed her.

“She also has six patents for-”

“Got it! After you, ladies.” Ife announced as the door glowed Pale Gold and opened in a spiral motion.

  The door opened to a coffee shop that wouldn’t be out of place in the ‘hipster corner’ of an urban neighborhood.

“Hello. What can I do for you three?” The barista greeted as they raised their head out of the book they were reading and smiled at the trio.

Ife glanced at the chalkboard menu, “I would like a medium Lemongrass Twilight Tea please.”

The barista’s eyebrows raised ever so slightly, “Seems strange for the season.”

“I know, but one should enjoy the simple things in life while they last.”

The barista seemed to like Ife’s reply because Wanda heard the ding of an elevator to her left.

“Enjoy your evening ladies.” The barista said as Ife dropped $100 into the tip jar.

  The elevator was a lot bigger on the inside with its interior having a modern Victorian design.

“What’s wrong?” Ife asked as the elevator’s doors closed behind her.

“Nothing.” Natasha replied as she did a quick scan to see if any ‘funny business’ was about to go down.

“Relax and enjoy the ride,” Ife assured as the elevator started to speed up its descent after a few minutes.

The elevator’s interior got larger and larger until a voice announced that the elevator would be entering ‘Pod Mode’. Automated controls and windows started forming at the front and sides of the now morphed elevator interior.

“You might want to strap in,” Ife advised as three seats formed from the now pod floor.

The pod paused in its descent and accelerated forward on what seemed to be high-speed rail tracks.

Wanda looked out the windows in awe as she started to see a floating light, then a floating landmass, then buildings Wanda only saw in fantasy/sci-fi novels and concept art.

“Welcome to Nephetz, ladies,” Ife announced sensing Wanda’s wonder and Natasha’s subtle amusement.

Hopefully, they’ll like her friends.

  Twenty minutes after Ife made her soft announcement, the trio arrived at the number one club in Nephetz, Zenaida.

Ife walked up to the bouncer, a troll in sleek obsidian armor, and showed them her invite.

“Welcome to Zenaida, ladies.” the bouncer greeted them as Ife led her fellow Avengers past the threshold.

Wanda gasped at what was before her.

The club’s interior was massive, to say the least. The first thing to hit her was the giant floating orb over the center of the dance floor. It had stage lights shooting out pinks and light blues orbiting around it like satellites and what looked to be five women dancing on a stage about 33’ (10.1m) above the orb. A DJ stage was set in the far left of the dance floor with sparkling mist flowing beneath it. Around the dance floor was a body of water containing spectacular coral reefs and grottos with what seemed to be mermaids, tritons, nymphs, and Aquatic Atlanteans dancing in it. Above the main dance floor were 25 floating islands with magically sustained clouds underneath them. All around the club were glowing orbs much smaller than the one above the dance floor.

All in all, it was probably the coolest place Wanda’s ever seen.

“Ife! Finally, you’re here!” a tall, dark-haired woman in a black PU Jumpsuit with a maroon oak crop jacket walked up and pulled Ife into a short hug.

“Salam, Nermin! I see you’ve made it early.” Ife remarked as Nat softly elbowed her upper arm.

“Right! Nermin, these are my teammates, Natasha Romanova and Wanda Maximoff. Natasha, Wanda, this is Nermin Ozana Negrescu. She was the one who helped me in Novi Grad.”

Nermin held out her hand, “It’s a pleasure to meet you both! Ife has told us much about you.”

“Good things I hope.” Nat prodded as she shook Nermin’s hand.

“The best,” Ife assured.

“Well, we have one of the VIP Islands for Xio’s bash. Let’s go!” Nermin announced as a self-driving group hoverboard descended in front of them.

“All aboard!”

  The floating island had about 40 people lounging around different tables and booths with the largest one having 17 people around it.

“Ife!” The island’s occupants cheered when the hoverboard dropped off the group.

“Late again, I see,” a woman in a Cardin Green asymmetrical maxi dress with a plunging V-neckline, padded shoulders, and long sleeves.

“I know, I know. Husna, I already got it from Nermin at the entrance. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry, Ife. We know.” Husna reassured Ife as they made their way to the big table.

“Everyone,” Ife announced making the table’s occupants turn their heads, “Sorry I’m late,” everyone groaned, “I know. But, I would like you all to meet two of my new teammates, Natasha Romanova and Wanda Maximoff.”

Everyone on the island crowded around the duo effectively pushing Ife to the sidelines.

Wanda felt it was a bit surreal meeting Ife’s friends. All of them looked happy to see her, not the mixed looks of fear, hatred, and disgust that most people (outside the team) would give her.

{{Ife sure has a lot of friends.}} Wanda thought almost bitterly.

Ife’s friends, or ‘crew’ as she calls them, were an eccentric group of demigoddess, Fae, Homo Magi, Homo Superius, Demons, Jinn, Orcs, and Succubae.

Their names were: Caterina IsmeneMetaxas, Itzel Erna Alondra Losnedahl (Arnesdottir), Batari Moon, Thiri Rajvir Sharma, Marama Zehra Arslan-Avci, Ashtoreth Marceline Sabah-Faucher, Nermin Ozana Negrescu, Djamila Ijebusomma Ngozika Amantea, Azeneth Esperanza Zoraida Ramirez, Gulmira Eriayomi Hendrix, Mayumi Filippovna Lebedeva, Marjani Subira Xun, Husna Meadhra Al-Hashim, Astridr Kara Signe Losnedahl (Bjørnsdottir), Xiomara Ekundayo Jimenez, Aghavni Jamshidi, and Lakshmi Hamasaki.

((Here are the face claims for Ife’s friends))

When she got past the ethereal glitz and glamour, Wanda realized that these women were quite funny and nerdy, like Ife.

Maybe her heart had room for a few more friends.

  “I can see why you’re worried.” Azeneth stated as she and Ife were watching Wanda being the center of attention, “I can feel her anxiety from the threshold.”

“I know. Do you think you can help her?”

“We talked about her before you arrived. Djamila, Nermin, Nazaret, and I will train her if she’ll have us.”

“I’m sure she’ll have you. Thanks, Azeneth.”

“No problem. Although, there has been talk amongst the Magic Council about her. Strange is doing his best, but there are others who want to bring Wanda in.”

Ife frowned remembering the Magic Council’s need for control. This wouldn’t be the first time her crew has ruffled a few of their feathers.

“So, did BNA find anything about the Magitech info I sent them?” Ife asked in reference to the Branko assignment.

“Nothing yet, I’m afraid. It seems that HYDRA’s not dead just yet.”

Ife pressed her lips together in annoyance,” Thanks anyway.”

Azeneth noted Ife’s choice of words,” It looks like it’s time for the toasts.”

  “To Xiomara! May all your dreams be fulfilled and the well of your creativity never runs dry!” Caterina proclaimed to the crowd.

“Here, Here!” the crowd cheered as everyone down another shot of Zenaida’s House Fireballs (Nat and Wanda had a lighter version).

“To Xio Labs!” Djamila shouted as the crowd downed another round of Fireballs and Xiomara got up to speak.

“Thank you, everyone! It has been a rough couple of years, but it was worth it. And with your support, it will be glorious!” Xiomara exclaimed to thunderous applause and the raising of glasses.

“Alright, time to dance!” Lakshmi trumpeted as she, Djamila, and Marjani coaxed everyone to the dance floor.

“Don’t worry, I’ll follow,” Ife reassured Wanda and Natasha when they noticed her hanging back on the VIP Island.

Ife flew down to the dance floor once everyone else got off their VIP Island. She found Lakshmi up to her usual shenanigans (flirting with a female Undine). Wanda was dancing with Batari, Aghavni, Djamila, and Gulmira while finally easing her nerves (that’s a win in her book).

A couple of guys tried to flirt with Wanda, but Batari and Gulmira shooed them away.

Ife spied Natasha checking out Renata Labriola, a drider, in her human form.

Ife’s plan seemed to be working perfectly.

“So, are you ready to let loose?”

  Ife groaned as she awoke on a super comfy couch. She didn’t remember what happened after that question was asked. It was probably Djamila getting back at her for Spring Break.

“Figures she would do that,” Ife muttered to herself as the Woman of the Hour waltzed into the room with Natasha and Wanda in tow.

“Nice to see that you’re awake,” Djamila stated in a sing-song manner that made Ife want to throw a pillow at her.

In good fun of course.

“Neat.” Ife deadpanned followed by a mirthless chuckle when Djamila pointed to the time.

“You looked and felt pretty tense during the toasting so I gave you a gentle push to loosen you up a bit. It worked and you were the center of the dance floor for about an hour, flew up and danced on the platform above the orb, made-”

“Okay, okay. I get it.” Ife interrupted too embarrassed to know what happened next.

“Fine,” Djamila raised her hands up in submission, “After your escapades, you and your teammates were wiped and I had the three of you crash at my place for a few hours.”

“Thanks, Djamila.”

“Just so you know, now we’re even.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Ife grumbled as she got her things.

“Okay, let’s head back.”

  The trio passed the way back in relative silence, but a peaceful one instead of the stereotypical hangover groans and slight shame.

“How did you find last night?” Ife asked as they stepped into her quarters.

“It was great,” Wanda stated, happy that she found people who weren’t afraid of her. Perhaps she could ask Ife if they could help her with her powers.

Ife could hear the emotional echoes of excitement from Wanda and smiled knowing that she succeeded in her plans so far.

“That good. One more thing,” Ife paused, not knowing how to phrase the next bit of information,” the portal uses a time manipulation spell (and some other stuff) and well, the 15 hours we spent in Nephetz was about three hours on the Compound. Just wanted to let you know.”

“Right, good night, Ife.” Nat said as Ife led them to the door.

“Hey, Nat can I ask you something?” Ife queried when Wanda passed the threshold.

“Shoot.”

Ife pressed her lips together in contemplation, “Does the rest of the team know you’re 80 years old?”

  *-Elsewhere-*

“How is our Danica faring?” A woman in black asked.

“She’s doing well, better than we expected.” A voice replied from the shadows.

“Good. Has Kaecillius and his team dealt with the Magic Council yet?”

“Not yet, Mistress. Though Jon Canmore has gotten his own show on CNN and Maximus has procured enough Terrigen Crystals for our plans.”

“I see. Have our allies in the Inter-Realm Parliament be informed of our progress.”

“Yes, Mistress. One last thing, Our sources believe that the French Ambassador is on to our plans.”

The woman sighed, “Have Yelena handle him. We can’t leave anything to chance now.”

“Of course, Mistress.” The voice uttered and left.

They’ve put so much into this and they can’t fail. Not when they’re so close.

Next>>

Taglist: @giorno-plays-piano​ @lookiamtrying​ @jtargaryen18​ @sapphirescrolls​ @jobean12-blog​ @sweeterthanthis​ @gotnofucks​ @mculibrary​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @golden-ariess​ @navegandoaciegas​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @opheliadawnwalker3​ @tilltheendwilliwrite​ @imanuglywombat​ @bucky-the-thigh-slayer​ @navybrat817​ @anyatheladyclown​ @buckysbunny​ @nacho-bucky​ @donutloverxo​ @stephanieromanoff​ @threeminutesoflife​ @angrybirdcr​ @angrythingstarlight​ @chixkencxrry​ @hurricanerin​ @marvelfansworld​

[kerra-and-company]

spiral

The first three months after Zhaitan’s defeat. (Or, the story of how the person widely considered “the best at emotions” was once absolutely horrible at managing her own.)

Warnings: depression, self-harm (in a very Kerra-specific way), feeling worthless, cognitive distortions (Kerra gets an idea into her head that is just...inaccurate)

Word count: 4466

I’ve been trying to work on this fic for a while, and it’s been really hard because Kerra’s my OC whose mental health issues are closest to my own. But it’s done now, and I’m sure it’s not perfect, but I’m proud of it, and it means a lot to me. So, here you go; hopefully this speaks to someone else, too.

(and @mystery-salad because forever ago you mentioned that you’d be interested in seeing this fic concept if I ever wrote it!)

It happened in the span of a single moment.

Trahearne had finally, finally joined the party. Rel had gotten his lute from who knows where and was taking song requests. Destiny’s Edge was talking and laughing, and she even saw Caithe smile. Everywhere Kerra looked, her friends and the rest of the Pact were drinking, chatting, relaxing, or dancing.

And, for once, no one was watching her.

So she tilted her head back, letting the sun and confetti (who brought confetti?) cover her face, giggling at the unfamiliar touch of colorful paper scraps. She spun around, arms outstretched and eyes closed and, miraculously, managing not to hit anyone.

It was pure, utter joy combined with I’m done, I did what I was made for, I’m done and I can just be me—

Kill the dragon.

Kerra stumbled. That couldn’t be right. Zhaitan was dead, and her Hunt was—

Kill the dragon, her mind insisted.

The world didn’t stop. It would have been easier if it had. Instead, the celebration continued, with laughter and Rel’s music as omnipresent noise.

It took everything in her not to scream.

****

The Pact wanted to lift her up on a pedestal for what she’d done. And she didn’t deserve it, so she had to leave.

She wrote notes to each of her friends and left them near their things, going mostly unnoticed as she slipped out of the party. Thank you for everything you’ve done, she said. I am going to where I can help the most, and that’s not here right now. I’ll come back.

I love you.

****

Her first stop was Caledon.

Cern was pleased to see her and told her stories of his new recruits taking down a particularly large troll in the swamps. Tatli and Cueyatl welcomed her into the Hazupl camp, and a few sylvari were there, too, talking to the hylek young. Llew gave her updates on Astorea—the defenses were holding, though Nightmare Court attacks had increased of late.

The only place she stayed overnight, though, was the Weeping Isle. Eona hugged her, congratulated her, and asked after Rel. She gave bare-bones information, took care of some wave riders, and fell asleep in the same guest room she’d taken earlier that year.

In her dreams, she walked a bloody battlefield, utterly alone. She saw so many dead faces, along with the living who mourned their losses. With each one she spotted, a memory flashed. Minei and Cio screaming and fighting to get back into the fortress on Claw Island. Ceera calling her “Commander of death.” Elli’s expression as she tore into the Risen marksman. Tybalt imploring her to trust him. Trahearne asking the Pale Tree for forgiveness as they closed the gate to Fort Trinity. The hate in Tiachren’s eyes slowly turning to fear as he died.

And above it all, the incessant drumbeat of this is your fault, your fault, your fault. You were Commander and this wasn’t what you were meant for and so every death is on your head and yours alone because you made a mistake. You pursued the wrong Hunt, and you will look at what you’ve done.

The land and the bodies went up in smoke, and she welcomed the flames even as she burned, too.

Come morning, Eona found Kerra’s bed neatly made and the Commander herself long gone.

****

In Kessex, the bandits put a price on her head.

In Sparkfly, the krait learned to flee from her on sight.

In Brisban, the Inquest cursed her as their labs exploded.

Sometimes, those she helped asked for her name. She began introducing herself as Lin. It felt…maybe not right, but right-adjacent, and it gave her a sense of distance.

Sometimes, they asked her to stay—an asuran krewe who appreciated her particular brand of dragon expertise, a rough-edged gladium who saw a kindred spirit, and a small human boy who watched her train the Claypool militia with wide eyes, to name a few.

She never stayed more than a few days. It tore her apart each time.

She slept less and less.

****

Felix worried more about her with every passing day.

Kerra could feel it, and she wished he wouldn’t, but she didn’t have the words to calm him.

“You can leave, dearheart, if this is too much,” she said once, softly. “You can leave if…if I’m too much.”

Not too much, never, Felix insisted, bumping his head into her thigh and letting out a deep purr. But you’re hurt. I want to help.

“You can’t.” It came out too sharp, and they both winced. “It’s…I’m not scratched, or stabbed, or corrupted. I didn’t break a bone.” I wish I had. I wish this pain was visible. I wish I had scars for all of them.

Some nights, she considered giving herself those scars.

That doesn’t make you not hurt, Felix insisted.

Kerra had nothing to say except but I deserve it, and she knew Felix wouldn’t want to hear that. So, she just pulled him onto her lap and against her chest, burying her face in his fur, eyes dry.

****

Her thoughts wouldn’t stop chasing each other in circles. Her Wyld Hunt pulsed at the back of her mind constantly, like the beginning of a headache.

Kill the dragon.

WHICH dragon? she’d scream back. It never answered, no matter how many times she asked.

But she could function on two hours of sleep a night. She could fight. She could help.

That’s all that mattered.

****

She stopped at the Black Citadel for provisions. She’d intended to avoid Rytlock, but one of his subordinates spotted her at a vendor’s stall and (as politely as possible) dragged her to his office.

“Commander!” Rytlock said, happily standing up and pushing his paperwork to the side. “Thought you were back at Fort Trinity.”

“I was,” Kerra said, just a little too shortly. “I’m on my way to Hoelbrak.” Not entirely false; she was indeed heading in that general direction.

“On foot?” Confusion. “You didn’t waypoint or take an airship?”

“I wanted to take the scenic route.” A small smirk, and, again, not entirely a lie.

“Fine by me.” Rytlock grinned, his smile very full of teeth. “Don’t suppose you’d care to help me take out a Flame Legion post before you leave?”

“I’d be happy to,” Kerra said, smiling back and inclining her head before turning on her heel and walking out the door. Felix followed close behind.

“Commander!” Rytlock shouted after her. He muttered something about “I was saying we’d go together,” but Kerra was halfway down the stairs by then and barely heard him.

The outpost was empty within three hours. Kerra was gone in four.

****

She’d stopped shielding her mind somewhere along the line. She couldn’t remember exactly when.

Emotions swirled through her, positive and negative and in-between. Most of them left, but their imprints remained.

She kept fighting. She kept killing, when necessary, and the pain grew and grew and grew. Her burden. Hers. Deserved, she thought.

She racked up invisible scars by the thousands.

****

As much as she told herself the pain was necessary, it also was exhausting—which is how she got her first serious injury since leaving Orr, forcibly bringing her spiral to a halt.

She was at Victor’s Point with a man named Gareth and his three children. Said children had performed some sort of ritual to summon a bear. The ritual instead managed to summon several dozen bears, and soon the homestead was overrun.

While Felix helped Gareth take down a particularly large bear, Kerra heard a scream from the nearby shed and whipped around, running as fast as her legs would carry her across the snow.

A child she hadn’t met yet, a small one with short white-blond hair, was cowering under a workbench. They held a pen in their right hand like a dagger, jabbing it in the direction of yet another bear trying to stick its head under the table. It growled at them, showcasing its set of sharp teeth.

Not wanting to risk hitting the child, Kerra unsheathed her dagger and leaped on top of the bear. But she’d underestimated its ferocity and overestimated her remaining strength, and it threw her off, slamming her into the stones of the nearby fireplace.

Holding her head, she tried to get up, but its claws gauged deep marks across her chest, and she dropped her dagger at the sudden spasm of pain. She scrambled backwards, shielding the child with her own body as they screamed. Felix roared somewhere in the distance.

She struggled to stay conscious as the bear reared up on its hind legs, trying to figure out if she could muster up enough energy to kick it in the stomach. But she didn’t have to.

A blue shield appeared around her—guardian magic, she thought deliriously. Logan? The mace that whacked the bear in the head was decidedly not Logan’s, though, and Logan wasn’t that tall, and his skin wasn’t that dark. But whoever this was, the child was safe.

“Hey, stay awake!” a voice called out urgently as her eyes slid shut. She heard a distinct crack in it and felt the owner’s concern for her. Funny, she thought in an unappreciated moment of irony, for them to care so much about someone they’ve never met.

****

Kerra must have dreamed, then, but all she remembered was what woke her up—yet another whisper of kill the dragondeep in the back of her mind.

She sat up with a jolt, nearly whacking her head on the beams above her.

Her savior was talking in hushed tones to Gareth nearby, but whatever they were saying was immediately drowned out by Felix, who meowed loudly and started purring at the top of his lungs. He gently butted his head against her shoulder. Thank you for staying. Don’t leave.

“I’m—” she coughed, clearing her throat and trying to ignore what felt like the worst headache of her life. “I’m okay, ‘Lix, I’m okay, I’m still here.” She gently laid a hand on his flank, and he turned his head and licked it with his rough tongue, making her laugh weakly and then wince as the action sent a flare of pain through her body.

“You sure you’re okay?” her mysterious savior said, approaching her bedside. “You hit your head pretty hard.”

“I heal fast,” Kerra said, meeting their eyes. They were tall, but their face was young. “Thank you for your help.”

“No problem,” the tall child said. “I’m Braham, he/him. Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Lin. She/her is fine. It’s nice to meet you, too.” A memory slotted into place, and she gasped, frantically looking around for her weapons. “Are the children all right? How long was I unconscious?”

“Easy!” Gareth said, holding his hands up in a calming gesture as he approached. “Yes, all the children are safe, and you were only out for about an hour or so.” He coughed meaningfully, and a snow-blond head peeked out from around his legs. “Mikkel is a bit shy, but he wanted me to thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Mikkel,” Kerra said, her eyes softening as they met the child’s. “You were very brave, you know.”

The boy squeaked and hid again behind his father’s legs. Gareth just laughed. “I daresay he was! But that thanks comes from me as well, young one. We were lucky to have you with us today.”

“The thanks is appreciated, but unnecessary, Gareth,” Kerra replied, dipping her head a few inches. When she lifted it back up—slowly, struggling against the pounding in her head—she found Braham looking at her curiously. But he shook his head, seemingly dislodging whatever thought he’d had, and nodded.

“I’m glad you’re okay and that I could help, but I gotta get going,” he said, standing up.

“Where are you headed?” Kerra asked, leaning back slightly against the pillows.

“Hoelbrak,” Braham answered, frowning. “I need someone to help me defend my hometown, Craigstead—it’s been invaded by some group calling themselves the Molten Alliance. I figured asking Knut Whitebear was worth a shot.”

Kerra frowned, too, both at Braham’s words and at the implication of his tension and fear. “Who else did you ask?” And why didn’t you try Hoelbrak first?

“Tribune Brimstone. He didn’t believe me.”

“What didn’t he believe?”

Braham’s face closed, but she could feel his flare of anger; it wasn’t directed at her, though, not really. “With all due respect, sylvari, it’s not really your business—”

“I know Rytlock,” Kerra interrupted, ignoring Gareth’s shock and the way Mikkel’s eyes lit up. And though the last thing she wanted was to go back to Rytlock or any of her friends and hurt them again… “I can help; I’ve convinced him to get off his…behind…before. Let me help. What didn’t he believe? That your town was under attack?”

She could tell Braham wasn’t quite convinced that she was being honest, but he sighed and shrugged. “That, and the fact that my full name is Braham Eirsson. My mother—” He said the word with a disgust Kerra didn’t understand. “—is Eir Stegalkin.”

Kerra blinked. “Your mother is who?”

Braham crossed his arms. “You heard me.”

“No, I did, and I believe you—sorry. I just…” She trailed off, took a breath, and continued. “I know your mother, too, then. And I’m aware that I can’t move much at the moment, but if Whitebear doesn’t agree to help you, come back and find me. Either I’ll convince someone to help you, or I’ll do it myself.”

Surprise mixed with persistent disbelief and gratitude. “Okay, then. You’re an odd one, Lin.”

She laughed, dry and short, absorbing the flicker of pain that came with it. “So I’ve heard.” As he headed to the door, she added, “You better come back and at least let me know how things go, okay?”

It was Braham’s turn to laugh, though his was more sincere. He did a goofy half-bow-half-salute and said lightly, “You’ll be on my way, so sure thing, boss.”

****

Kerra wanted to leave. Gareth and his wife and his children were absolutely lovely, and she didn’t deserve any of it. But she was trapped in bed, healing. Careless.

She slept most of the time, waking up only to eat and pet Felix and thank Mikkel for bringing her water. Part of her wished she could just stay asleep, and part of her was absolutely desperate to move, to get out, to go anywhere but here where she was a burden and could do nothing. Always, constantly, back and forth.

I need to move.

You can’t.

I need to help.

You can’t do that, either.

I need to be worth something.

But you’re not.

I need you to shut up.

But I won’t.

I…I need my friends. And I need Trahearne and Caithe.

But you left them. They’re probably all angry with you.

You don’t know that.

And even if they’re not, you don’t deserve them.

…

Am I wrong?

****

On her fourth day at Victor’s Point, Kerra received a visitor.

Raised voices outside woke her. She rolled over to face the door, bringing her knees closer to her chest under the blankets.

“—asked you to state your business, sylvari.” Gareth’s voice. He was on edge and slightly angry.

“And I told you, I’m looking for Kerra. Is she here or not?”

Kerra’s eyes flew open in shock and recognition.

“There is no one by that name staying here,” Gareth replied. “I strongly suggest you try the next homestead.” A feeling of preparedness, as if his hand was on the hilt of his weapon.

Before she could think it through, Kerra called out, “Nisha?”

A brief scuffle and a shout, and the door banged open. Nisha’s clothes looked wrinkled, though still passably clean, and xe stood as tall as ever. And xe was scared and upset and relieved and so many other things that Kerra didn’t have the brainspace to work through.

Felix, however, didn’t have that problem. He leapt forward, and a very startled Nisha caught him in xyr arms. Xe stumbled backward into Gareth, who burst out laughing, animosity gone.

“Well, all right then! Lin, I see you know this person. Is it fine if I leave you two…” He glanced at a very loudly purring Felix, eyes twinkling. “Or you three to catch up?”

Nisha’s gaze caught hers and locked in, like the sight on one of xyr rifles.

Say yes.

Say no.

Say yes.

Say no. Say NO.

“Yes,” Kerra choked out, quiet but audible.

“Wonderful! I’ll be outside if you need me.” The door softly clicked shut behind him.

Silence for a few beats. Three, two, one.

Kerra took a deep breath and straightened, sitting up fully. “Hey,” she said tentatively.

Nisha gently set Felix down, a fierce edge in xyr eyes. Felix curled up next to the bed, eyes darting between the two.

“Hey?” Nisha repeated incredulously. “Hey?!”

Kerra flinched, and Nisha snapped xyr mouth shut with an audible click. When xe spoke next, xyr tone was flat. “Where have you been, exactly?”

“Helping people,” was all Kerra could say.

Nisha exhaled, frustration seeping off xem in waves. “My apologies. I should have phrased that better. Why did you leave Fort Trinity?”

“To help people,” Kerra repeated, helplessly.

“Why couldn’t you help people there?! I-I—” Nisha’s face twisted, though Kerra could see xem struggling to hide it. “You left us! And you didn’t say where you were going, not even to Trahearne or Caithe or my brother.” Xyr hand clenched into a fist, gripping and bunching up the fabric of xyr pants.

She had let them down. They were mad—at least Nisha was, and if xe was, probably everyone else was, too. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she started, “I’m s—”

“Do you have ANY idea how SCARED we were?!” Nisha shouted.

Kerra’s world screeched to a halt.

Wait. What?

“We could have lost you, and we would have had no way of knowing! You could have died, or disappeared, and none of us would have been able to do anything to stop it! We were terrified for you! And not because you’re not capable,” xe added hastily, brushing away tears on xyr own cheeks, and she’d made Nisha cry, she’d done that to xem, she’d hurt xem— “You are perhaps the best fighter I’ve ever met. That doesn’t mean you can’t die.”

Something cracked in Kerra’s heart.

“Why do you—what about all the people who died because of me?” she shouted back, her voice breaking. She threw herself out of bed and onto her feet, the blankets falling in a disorganized tangle behind her. “What about them?”

“What—we were fighting an Elder Dragon! People were going to die!” Both of Nisha’s fists were clenched now. “And I hate that, but it’s the truth! If you’re saying that you think we could have made it all the way to Zhaitan with no casualties—”

“No, no, I’m not, I—all their deaths are my fault!” Kerra’s tone made Felix’s ears flatten, and she ignored Nisha’s rush of utter shock. “I don’t understand why you’d want to find me!”

“Why in Tyria would they all be your fault?” Xyr brow furrowed, and xe took one step towards her. “I disagree with the basic principle, but even if the deaths were entirely on the Pact leadership, shouldn’t they also be Trahearne’s—”

“NO!”

“Why not?!”

“BECAUSE I WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO BE THE COMMANDER!”

The room went dead silent. Kerra abruptly realized she was breathing hard and sat down on the edge of her bed.

“I was given a Wyld Hunt to fight and kill a dragon, Nisha,” she said, staring down at her hands. “The Pale Mother and Caithe both told me that the dragon was Zhaitan, but it clearly wasn’t, because Zhaitan is dead, and my Wyld Hunt is very much still there. Which makes this the wrong path for me, and therefore every action I’ve taken that’s led to where we are, with so many dead, is my fault. I should have figured out I was targeting the wrong dragon, I should have done better, I should have…” She trailed off, overwhelmed.

Silence again. When Kerra looked up, she met Nisha’s eyes, staring directly into hers. Sadness. Anger. Frustration.

Xe cleared xyr throat twice before speaking. “You write your own future, Ker. You’re not beholden to that one.”

“But Mother told me—”

“Mothers can be WRONG!” The fabric of Nisha’s coat tore with a soft ripping sound. But just like with Braham, the anger wasn’t directed at Kerra.

“I was given this Hunt by the Dream!”

“Shoots and thorns!” Nisha yelled, xyr voice cracking. “Why are you so certain you chose wrong, that you made some sort of mistake? You can still complete your Hunt! You can go after all the dragons! And you know why you have that option?” Desperation. Determination. “Because of everything you’ve done, because you’re the Commander, whether or not your Mother and the Dream originally thought you should be! You took down Zhaitan! You proved that Elder Dragons can be defeated, and now you don’t have to fight them alone!”

Xe took a deep breath. “Yes, people died, and it’s horrible.” New tears pooled in xyr eyes. “I…I still miss Sieran. But their deaths are not all your fault, and you saved so many lives, too, and…and I brought these.”

Xe shrugged off xyr pack and fiddled around inside it, pulling out a stack of papers and dropping them on Kerra’s lap. She just blinked.

Nisha sighed, more out of frustration with xemself than with Kerra. “Can you just look at them, please?”

Kerra spread out the papers, making sure to catch a few stray sheets before they fell to the floor.

They were notes, every single one of them written in a different hand. In a quick scan, Kerra saw Caithe’s graceful but clear cursive, Elli’s “i's” dotted with little hearts, and Minei’s deliberately blocky print. She looked back up at Nisha.

“What…what are these?”

“It was Rel’s idea,” xe said, now looking anywhere but Kerra. She could feel xem trying to rein in xyr emotions, though it was a bit late for that. “You gave us all some, so he thought that, if I could find you, I should give you some from all of us.”

Words upon words upon words. Her eyes were drawn to them as if by a magnet.

From Demmi: Thanks for believing in me.

From Cio: You saw past the fire, and you’re one of the few.

From Trahearne: You are the reason I didn’t give up, little sister.

From Shashoo: Quaggan believes in you, Commander!

From Riel: You do good work, agent. Keep it up.

From Elli: Keep fighting, Kerry. You’re damn good at it.

From Minei: They’re not saying why we’re writing these, but you better come back so I can thank you in person.

From Caithe: You showed me new purpose, Valiant. Thank you.

From Rel: You’re my best friend, Ker, and I love you. Stay safe.

And there were more, from soldiers she’d talked to once or sparred with or comforted, and some from people she’d never met. They said thank you and you led us to victory and you saved me and you were a friend when I needed one and many, many variations.

Nisha coughed, and when xe spoke, xyr voice was thick. “I didn’t write one. I’m not a writer. But thank you, Kerra. You’re the third friend I’ve ever made, and I’m so glad I met you.”

“Can I hug you?” Kerra blurted, nearly cutting xem off. She didn’t expect xem to say yes, but she desperately hoped—and then the notes were being carefully placed on the desk, and Nisha was next to her on the bed with xyr arms around her, and Felix was purring loudly from his spot on the floor as he told her I love you, too.

Kerra hugged xem back tightly, hiding her face in xyr shoulder, and they stayed that way until both their shirts were soaked with tears.

****

An indeterminable amount of time later, Kerra pulled away, wiping her face with her sleeve. “I can’t do this on my own, you know,” she said, the corner of her mouth pulling upwards. I can’t go back alone. I won’t feel better if I’m alone. I need help, and I need my friends, and maybe that’s okay for me, too, just like it’s okay for everyone else. She met Nisha’s eyes. “Will you stay with me?”

“I just found you,” Nisha said, quiet but firm. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Kerra smiled in earnest, then. “Good. Because you can’t do this alone, either.”

“I beg your pardon?” Nisha said, eyebrows raising. Surprise. Indignance. Acceptance.

“Neither of us are okay,” Kerra said, thinking of Nisha shouting about mothers (and Nisha shouting at all, when xe always stayed so composed). “And we have other people—other friends, our siblings—but…” She felt her glow flare, warming her face. “I’ll help you, when you need it, and you’ll help me when I need it. That’s the deal.”

“I wasn’t aware we were making a deal.” Amusement. Warmth.

Kerra dipped her head slightly, never breaking eye contact. “We are.” Her smile grew. “You know,” she said cheekily, “you really shouldn’t question your Commander—”

“You are aware that I’m not technically part of the Pact, right?” Nisha interrupted.

It was barely even a joke, but it shattered whatever tension remained. Kerra burst into slightly broken (but still genuine) laughter, the calm after the storm. She felt Nisha’s happiness and saw xyr grin, and it pushed back the flood farther.

It was just enough. For the first time in weeks, she pulled up her shields, shutting the world’s emotions out. It was a relief and a letting go, and she almost started crying again, but Nisha’s presence held her together.

She was far from okay—the drumbeat of it’s all your fault and the Hunt’s repetition of kill the dragon were still very much there in her head. But people cared about her. She had proof of that, though she still didn’t understand it. She was important to them, so she had to keep herself safe.

Maybe someday she’d be able to do that just for herself.

For now, she’d take the help, and she’d start to heal. And when Braham came back, she’d leave, with Nisha.

But it was all right to stay here, just for now. She was safe, and she was loved.

And she felt like she was home.