#I have a vague memory of her trying to say I’d be good and be so loved by the kids and all this other stuff

[skoulsons]

.

[altcvnningham]

waning moon

helen park x madam shell

summary: helen park sees the cracks in her lover's façade. (inspired by @mickstart and their amazing post on perhaps the most underrated ship of all time??) read on ao3

tags/cw: nsfw, wlw, angst, pre-cw, betrayal (but vaguely unspecified), light choking, younger woman/older woman, age gap, references to coercion, vague references to abuse of authority, so much bird imagery, doomed sapphics wc: 1.1k

a/n: i literally read @mickstart's park x shell (shellen???) post and got possessed, blacked out for an hour and wrote this. i have 0 memory of how i got here or what this means and though it isn't like 100% what the post was talking about it DID inspire me to spill out this ramble ab a character who has 0 canon appearances outside of dialogue. sorry for pretentious purple prose and rough editing!! it's 12am forgive me

She doesn’t know when she sees the change, but it slips in slow and sweet, like a paling knife glinting in the moonlight. How sand sifts to the bottom of an hourglass, she too feels just as suffocated under the weight of borrowed time.

Yet Shell’s eyes are paler still even in the dark, the waning moon of this interminable night, one that feels to Helen Park like the bookend of something. An answer, unspoken, but as implicit as though it had been there all along, a truth she’d known deep down but refused to acknowledge. And why would she? How could she? It had been three long years since Shell took her under her wing, her pretty little bird, three years that had changed everything. Irreparably. Even now as Park finds the pieces of it all scattered and frayed with Shell’s silent betrayal, she sees the beauty in each and every one, too besotted with the finer details to bear looking at the bigger picture.

Shell is lying.

She knows, more certain than she has ever been of anything in her life. As the older woman climbs languid atop her narrow hips, smothered in perfume bergamot and liquorice, plum coloured lips close over her own in a lazy mimicry of a kiss. Helen parts open her mouth, as she had her legs countless times, like a good little protégé, showing her madam just what she’s learned. All for her. Tongue hot as she kisses back with hooded, half-open eyes, curling around Shell’s like a proclamation. I know what you are. I know what you’re doing.

(And do you know, how powerless I am to stop you? As if I’d even try?)

And Shell knows it too. In the dark of this Parisian hotel room, blinds drawn to cast away the world’s prying eyes, she can see it on the girl’s face plain as day. Sweet Helen is a pretty thing, much too clever for her own good, but wears her heart on her sleeve, with eyes as big and shiny as a doe’s- and now hunting season had come for her sweet girl, and how wide they had looked at Shell upon her return, hands smothered in blood. Blood that she hadn’t bothered to scrub, knowing Helen had likely smelled it coppery on the air when she’d walked in. Her fingers are still tinged pink with it, even as she traipses them up the girl’s waist, cupping the plush undersides of her breasts.

That is to say, Helen isn’t the best at hiding her expressions. It’s what Shell had loved about her. The shrill gasps when Shell would come up behind her, grasping her waist in lieu of a polite excuse me; the way she’d avert her eyes shyly when she’d caught hers across a room, crowded, empty; how she’d been so young when Shell had met her, blushing like a schoolgirl at the mere whisper of praise; and how when Shell had asked her but a month later if she’d ever been touched before- properly, darling girl, like a lover might- Helen had flushed red and bright as a virgin. Perhaps she had been, too proud to admit it. For a girl who is as sharp as a knife and twice as lethal, Shell had held in her hands a mourning dove, cooing softly in her palm, willing to piece together its nest there. Right there. With her.

Now, not so much. Her songbird doesn’t sing as she used to, her eyes parsing through the fog she’d been happy to let Shell pull over them. Helen sees her for what she is now, and they both know it.

It isn’t a strange thing, what she’s doing. Not at all irregular. It’s a gesture Shell had exercised over her innumerable times before, a kind of sordid foreplay, staking her claim over her. Shell’s hands lay flat upon Helen’s sternum, her heart thrumming steady but beating violent as a war drum; the older woman smiles- how well she’s taught her. Calm, girl, slow breaths. Don’t let them see you falter. Don’t let them feel you shiver. Don’t let them hear you breathe. In the face of fear, Helen had grown around herself flesh of stone, unyielding. That doesn’t change, not even around Shell.

But this isn’t a test. This isn’t one of her many lectures, her teachings. Very rarely does Madam Shell separate work from pleasure, seeing the two overlap rather conveniently; but for Helen she had all the time in the world. Perhaps not after tonight, given what they both know now. But pleasure is a special thing she keeps locked in a drawer for Helen to pry open and play in, rifle curious fingers through until they snag on something that piques her interest.

And yet it always ends the same way. Like this. The older woman atop her, faraway look in her eye, warbled smile on her lips. Hands around neck.

Her fingers slide slow, deft, thumb parted to curl her hand around the pale column of Helen’s throat. And she can do nothing but be still for her mentor, her lover, holding her breath in wide-eyed submission, a devotion that spoke beyond words, beyond meaning. A kind of reverence she knows only Shell would understand, a stillness like prey clutched within a lioness’ maw. Playing dead, prettily.

Shell’s eyes fix upon her, steel grey boring into vivid green, alight with something akin to amusement; in the daytime, Helen mistakes the glint for adoration, something like love, when she’s drunk enough on Shell’s affections to believe it.

Now, in the waning moon of their last night together- as they are, as they could have been, if only she didn’t know what she knows at the very pit of her being is true- she recognises the errant flicker for what it is. Kindling. A struck match, willing to burn it all down, even if it means taking sweet Helen with her. Her mourning dove. Cast to the fire like everything else. For a terrifying moment, Park isn’t even sure she’d much mind it at all. Ashes to ashes, as they say.

And as Shell squeezes her hand soft and gentle around her favourite girl’s neck, Helen surrenders her head against the pillow, spilling back with a moan shrill like a song. It’s the last time she knows she’ll ever sing for her again, so she makes sure it’s a good one.

[happypot0001]

⚠️Characters belong to @just-a-carrot 🥕⚠️

I wish it wasn’t so, but everyone is probably going to have an obstacle once in their life. Some may be bigger than others, but I believe that you’re a good person. 🫵 There must be a reason that you’re suffering, even if you ARE a good person. I don’t have a say in this, but I can only wish for the best with you and your life. If you don’t believe you’re a good person, then I believe you will be. This is a complete stranger who’s talking to you, but this is also a stranger who has encountered her own problems. You don’t have to take my words to heart, I’m no therapist or anything 😭😭😭 but all the same…I hope life gives you what you deserve 💕💕

I would feel a bit guilty if I didn’t say this, so I’ll just give an honorable mention to @sailingseals ⛵️!! I’ve been really inspired by their art and I never actually looked at it when I was creating this but I do vaguely remember how they shade so….yeah this shading was kinda inspired by them 😭😭😭

Lots of love to anyone who may be reading!! 💕💕

I…CANT BELIEVE I FINISHED THIS IN LESS THAN A DAY!!!! LESS THAN TWENTY FOUR HOURS WOOHOOOOOOO LETS GOOOOOO!!!!! Ekekjedkdk I really enjoyed drawing this!!!! It was always a vague idea stuck in the back of my mind but finally it’s been brought out on my phone!! (Yes I drew on my phone again where the freak is my iPad 😭😭😭) Bro when I was drawing, I had been using that one picture where Iggy was tied up with ribbons and all three of the love interests had like locks on him and stuff and that brought SO MANY MEMORIES FROM OW 😭😭😭😭😭 I loved it sm heheh

About…what….like two or three hours ago???? Maybe more but around that time frame. Anyways, at that time I was doing some work while playing a sad song (Absence by Rio Romeo 🙏🙏) while ALSO crying (for the second time today what 😭😭) and when I cry, I want to draw people crying 😃😃 but like I’ve always adored the thought of like someone kissing someone else’s tears 🥰🥰🥰 idk where I’ve seen that from but…like…idk it just seems like a cute idea 😭😭😭 so I was like “wait why don’t I just draw that it seems like a cute idea” so…yeah HAHA as you can see I gave GIDGET the honor of doing that 😋😋😋 I was thinking of how to do this and I was first going to do just Iggy sitting and crying all sad and just disappointed and THEN do all the extras but I decided that was like a waste of time and so I just decided against that 😭😭😭😭😭 I still like how it turned out anyway, even if I didn’t do that!!!! I mean like obviously I’m not the best at drawing but since I’m my biggest uhhh enemy (it think that’s what people say) ???? I say that it looks better than most of my other works!!! I knew I wanted to do all of the love interests so I was deciding how I should have each of them comforting Iggy, and uhhh…well you see obviously 😭😭😭 if you need help differentiating how I drew each character doing that then: it’s like just Orlam touching up on Iggy trying to make him feel better with cuddles or smth of the like. Gidgets cutely kissing his tears because why not😆😆😆 and Genzou is just crying along with him 😭😭😭😭 idk I thought they fit but whatever it sounds dumb when I say it out loud but I’ve already drawn it 😭😭😭 uhmmmmm….if I were to claim this as any firsts…I’d say it’s like my first time properly drawing Orlam?! And also GIDGET with their normal hair down!!!

JDFDJDJ if any of these hit a deep spot in your heart then I’d really like to know!!! I hope that if you’re sad or not that you have a very blessed life and the universe gives you the treatment that you deserve, which I can only assume is the best treatment!!!! OF COURSE WE JUST NEED A MENTION TO 🥕 WHO IS THE CREATOR OF THESE AMMAAAAAAAZZINGGGG CHARACTERSSSSS!!! THANK YOU FOR CREATING THESE CHARACTERS AND SUCH A LOVING COMMUNITY FOR US!!!! WE ENJOY EVERYTHING YOU MAKE AND WILL ALWAYS BE THRILLED IF YOU WERE TO MAKE ANY MORE!!!!!

Lots of love to anyone who may be reading once again!! 💕💕

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Lightning Bug - Chapter 19

Master List

Warning: fluff, like a lot of fluff, mention of past trauma, touch deprivation 

Word count: 4.9k 

You weren’t in your room, that much you knew but opening your eyes to look around was a feat in itself. Everything felt heavy. You gathered your remaining strength and opened your eyes. Big mistake. The lights were far too bright and it caused your head to throb. Immediately, shutting them again and a small whimper left your lips. A voice said your name. You tried to determine who it was but your head hurt too much. They said it again. This time you slowly opened your eyes and turned your head slightly towards the voice. It was Helen, so you must be in med bay. “What happened?” You asked. Your throat was killing you and you had no memory of what occurred. 

“You're in med bay,” she said. “Does anything hurt?”

“Just my head,” you winced as you sat up. 

“That is to be expected,” she handed you a cup of water. You downed the entire thing. “Do you have any memory of what happened?” You thought about it. It was like someone went in and erased part of your memory. “You had an attack, fell, and hit your head on your nightstand. You’ve been unconscious for a little over 2 days.” 2 days?! That was a first. “We are saying you had a seizure but we both know that’s not true,” she sat in the empty chair next to you. You heard voices in the hallway. 

“Do they know?” She nodded her head. You looked down at your uncovered hands. “I’m so afraid of myself, Dr. Cho.” You admitted. There was so much blood on your hands. 

“Are you afraid because people told you to be afraid and corrupted the viewpoint you have of yourself?” You didn’t respond. “Bruce was afraid of the Hulk. America and Wanda feared their powers and I can guess that Natasha feared the person the Red Room tried to create. You live with a group of people who understand that fear but you need to let them in and allow them to shoulder that fear with you,” you saw her glance at your hands. “How long has it been since someone friendly touched your skin?”

“Too long,” you whispered, tears pooling at the corner of your eyes. The only person that was never afraid of you was your brother. “Is Natasha here?” You vaguely remember her saying she had to leave for a mission with Wanda. Helen nodded. “Can you get her me? I’d leave to speak with her alone.” You watched Helen leave your room and close the door. With a sigh, you looked up at the ceiling. A weird feeling began to form in your stomach. It wasn’t jealousy or the tingling feeling you felt when your powers needed to be released. You pinpointed the feeling to nervousness. 

It felt like a lifetime ago when you made a bucket list and on your list was to hug Natasha. You wondered how her hands would feel against yours or her arms around you as she hugged you. Would she even hug you or would she turn you away?

That feeling began to grow. It made your body warm up and a small smile formed on your lips. For the first time in a long time, you felt okay. 

*

The door closing caused Natasha to look up and the conversation stopped. The Black Widow wasn’t sure what Kate, Yelena, and America were talking about, to focused on the door in front of her. “Are her vitals still good?” Natasha asked the doctor. She was becoming concerned about how long it’s been. Helen smiled.   

“Great actually,” she said. “She’s awake and wants to talk to you, alone,” she looked at the Black Widow. 

“Me?” She questioned. Helen nodded. 

“I’ll give you some space and I’ll come back to check on her later.” Natasha sighed, looking at the door that separated her and the young girl. 

“Why do you think she only wants to talk to me?” She asked her girlfriend. 

“Just don’t sit there and go find out,” Yelena said, pushing on her back. Natasha rolled her eyes and stood up. She felt Wanda squeeze her hand before she walked over to the door. Letting out a shaky breath and trying to push down her nervousness, she opened the door. The door closing behind her caused the teen to look up. 

“Hi Nat,” she whispered. Her voice was so soft. No matter how many times Natasha looked into her eyes the color took her breath away. But she was so glad to see them because it meant she was okay. They looked different somehow as she made her way to the chair she sat in for the past 2 days. “I’m sorry you and Wanda got pulled from your mission,” the teen continued. 

“Don’t apologize. Your health and well-being are far more important. Besides I would rather be here than kissing some politician’s ass,” Natasha expected her to smile instead she frowned. 

“This is still new to me,” she said. “The idea that people generally care about me. For my entire life,” she hit the bed. “I’ve been hurt by people that shouldn’t have hurt me and I’ve been called horrible names because of something I was born with. I was a freak, a monster, and an abomination,” her voice creaked and Natasha saw her eyes swell with tears but they didn’t fall. “I’ve learned to fear myself because of what others called me and forced me to do,” she looked at Natasha and the sight was breaking the Black Widow’s heart. “I don’t want to be afraid anymore. I’d like to try to open up to all of you and tell you what happened to me.” 

“Whenever you're ready we’ll listen.”

“I don’t want to be afraid anymore,” she repeated and raised her hand to Natasha. The teen nodded, a sign to tell it was okay. Natasha felt her stomach drop as she whipped her hand on her pant leg and raised her own. Green eyes locked onto blue to try to find any second guessing but Natasha saw none. So connected their hands. She was surprised at how soft they were, a little dry from years of being covered. The teen gasped and Natasha tried to pull her hand back but she held it tighter. Tears started to fall down her face. “It’s been so long,” she whispered. “So long since hands that won’t hurt me have touched my skin,” she was staring at their connected hands. Finally, she looked up. “Can -?” She cleared her throat. “Can I have a hug?” 

“Of course,” Natasha tried to keep her voice steady as she didn’t want to sound too excited. This was something she’s been wanting for so long. She stood up and sat on the edge of the hospital bed, opening her arms. There was some understandable hesitation but Natasha wanted her to make the first move. Soon the teen hugged the Black Widow. She waited for her to get used to the feeling before wrapping her arms around her. Y/n tensed up and Natasha feared she did something to trigger the young girl but she relaxed. Natasha adjusted her position on the bed as she felt tears stain her shirt. The girl’s whole body was shaking. “Sh molniyenosnyy zhuk (lightning bug),” Natasha whispered. “You're safe. I got you.” She kissed the top of her head. The small action and statement caused a sob to escape her and Natasha held her tighter. 

*

All of your senses were consumed by the Black Widow and it was overwhelming. You wondered if she could feel how fast your heart was beating but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. When Natasha touched your hand, her skin was warm against yours. Her hand was rough due to years of training and her fingers had calluses on them. She didn’t hesitate when you asked for a hug and you never felt more safe than in her arms. Her hands rubbed soothing circles on your back. The last time you were held like this was with your brother and that was so long ago. Natasha moved slightly and her hand left her back. You couldn’t help the whine that left your lips. “Sh, milyy (sweetie), I’m not going anywhere.” You heard footsteps approaching you. Glancing, you saw it was Wanda. 

“Hi,” she said. “I just wanted to make sure you are okay. I can leave if you want.” You ended the hug with Natasha, missing her warmth immediately. 

“I’m okay,” you said. “I want you to stay,” you looked at Wanda’s hands. How would they compare to Natasha’s? You mirrored the same action with Natasha and held out your hand. Unlike her girlfriend, Wanda didn’t hesitate to take your hand. “Your hand is so soft!” It was true. The witch had no calluses on her fingers. Wanda giggled at your blunt comment, and your cheeks blushed. 

“I use a good moisturizer,” she smiled. Wanda let her hand so they were palm to palm, comparing the size difference. Once you were done, you instinctively rested your head on Natasha’s shoulder. “Are you up for more visitors?” She asked. You nodded and Wanda walked back to the door. 

“Molniyenosnyy zhuk,” you said. “What’s that mean?” You looked up at her and she was smiling. She said it a few more times for you to get it right. 

“It means a lightning bug,” her smile grew. “Do you know how lightning bugs glow?” You shook your head. “When I was about your age, Yelena and I were in the backyard with our mom and she told us they can convert chemical energy into the glowing light we see called bioluminescence,” she explained. 

“Kind of like me,” she nodded. 

“Yes, exactly like you,” Natasha tapped you on the nose causing you to scrunch it. “So you are a molniyenosnyy zhuk.” You liked it. It was the first time you’ve had a nickname. Smiling, you burrowed your head into Natasha’s side. She smelt like vanilla and you wondered if it was from her perfume or Wanda’s. The sound of the door opening caused you to sit up a little. It was Yelena, Kate, and America. You smiled at the sight of your friends. 

“Gave us quite a scare,” Yelena teased, making your cheeks blush and offering her a shy smile. You let Natasha move away and allowed the trio to come closer. 

“Sorry about that,” you said, scratching the back of your head. “That attack,” you still weren’t sure what to call it. “Took me by surprise.” 

“Could you tell when they would come?” Wanda asked. You nodded. It felt weird talking about it. This was a secret you kept close to your heart because you were forced to. 

“It starts with a tingle in my palms,” you told them. “It doesn’t happen all the time only if there is a lot of energy or my emotions are all over the place,” you sighed, looking down at your hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen,” you said honestly. 

“It’s okay bud,” Kate smiled. “We are just glad you are okay.” You were glad too because if you weren’t you wouldn't be able to get a hug from Natasha or feel Wanda’s hands. You raised your hands to Kate and Yelena. The couple stole a glance at each other before connecting their hands with yours. It was a strange contrast. Yelena’s hand was cold but you couldn’t tell if it was from her rings or she was just normally cold. Her hands were smooth, unlike her sisters. Now for Kate’s hand, it was warm and her hands were rough from using her bow. You let go of their hands. 

“Thank you for trusting me,” you told them. “Not many people do.” 

“Trust is a two-way street,” Yelena said. “So thank you for trusting us.” You looked at America, who was oddly quiet. You could feel her nervous energy radiating off of her as you raised her hand. But she didn’t take it. 

“Are you sure?” She asked instead. You squint your eyes, tilting your head at her question. “Do you remember the last time we were together?” Of course, you did. You were so scared that she was going to hate you or everyone was going to be mad. But they weren’t. 

“I do,” you smiled. “But I’m done being afraid. You're my best friend.” Her eyes widened at your concession and soon she took your hand. It was hard to describe the feeling of her hand in yours. It felt right. You felt your face heat up and quickly let go of her hand, not missing the smirks on Natasha and Wanda’s faces. “So,” you said, whipping her hands on the blanket. They felt very sweaty all of a sudden. “Fill me in on everything I’ve missed.” 

*

“Knock, knock,” the laughter stopped as the door opened and you saw Pepper and Tony walk in. “Are you up for two more visitors?” 

“Yeah!” You said but you were distracted by the table that Tony wheeled in with a blanket covering a tower-like structure. 

“What’s that?” Kate asked. 

“A little surprise for the kid,” Tony smiled at you. “But we have to wait for Bruce  so please continue this cute family moment.” Wanda waved her hand and two chairs appeared for Tony and Pepper. You were amazed by her powers, a little jealous of the things she could do with them. The conversation continued as stories were passed around. Tony and Natasha went back and forth telling the story of Natasha’s undercover work in Stark Industries. Her fighting Happy in the boxing ring sent you into a fit of giggles. Your laughter continued as Yelena told stories about her and Natasha’s father. It was nice to sit and laugh with them. You felt normal.   

“I thought I had a two-person visiting policy,” Helen teased, walking into your room. 

“To be fair that rule was only when I was unconscious,” you smiled. The doctor glared but you saw no real threat in it. 

“You're worse than Natasha,” the Black Widow gasped, clutching her chest. 

“I’m a perfect patient, thank you very much,” Helen rolled her eyes as the group erupted into laughter. She started to check on your vitals and the tablet Tony was holding began to ring. 

“Hey Big Green,” Tony answered. “Say hello to the star of the hour,” he turned the tablet around. You saw Bruce standing in a lab you didn’t recognize. 

“Glad to see you are okay,” he smiled. 

“Hi Bruce,” you waved at the doctor. Your eyes went back to the covered object as everyone said their hellos. “So,” you said, slowly. “Can I see what’s under the blanket?” Tony laughed. 

“I’m calling it the Stark Recharge,” the billionaire said, handing the tablet to Pepper and taking off the blanket. There was a big red target connected to a metal coil spring. At the end of the spring was a box with 4 batteries. Each batter had a meter to monitor their charge. 

 “What is it?” America asked. 

“It kind of looks like a cell tower,” Yelena said, with her head tilted. You giggled. 

“Cho said it’s important to use your powers,” you looked at the doctor, who was nodding her head. “This is a safe and controlled way for you to use them,” Brue said. 

“You hit this target with your powers and the electricity you produce charges these batteries,” Tony explained. “These batteries will be sent to homeless centers and countries that need them.”

“It’s so you can relearn that your powers aren’t something to be afraid of,” Pepper added. You looked at the CEO. “That when applied correctly they can do some good.” Have you ever used your powers for good? Your parents never wanted you to use them unless it was a way to benefit them which turned into being at the church for long hours to power it. With HYDRA, there were no good moments just pain, torture, and bloodshed. All of your life, your powers were used to break the law and cause so much pain. 

“Can I try it?” You asked the group. Natasha looked at Helen for her final say. 

“Yes,” she finally said after some thought. “Just don’t overdo it.” She took off the ekgs and the clear tube around your nose. With the help of Wanda, you got out of bed. The ground was cold on your bare feet as you stood in front of the machine. 

“So I just aim for the target,” Tony nodded. “And if I miss?” You questioned. 

“Then you miss and hit the wall,” he shrugged. “Walls are easy to fix.” You nodded, shaking out your legs and arms. 

“It’s been a while since I’ve used them. You might want to stand back.” But they didn’t move. They trusted you so you just had to trust yourself. You sighed, closing your eyes. It was so strange how a few harsh words and punishments could change your perspective on yourself. There was a time you liked the stuff you could do. You were like a superhero in the books you read. You let out a shaky breath, steadying the beat of your heart. Then you focused on their heartbeat, the energy they were creating, and the electricity in the room. It was strong and steady and for a very long time since you weren’t afraid. Your fingers began to move, mimicking the way a pianist played the piano. You felt your fingers and hands tingle. You looked at your hand and watched the electricity dance around your fingers. Smiling, you extended your arm, and the stream of electricity left and traveled toward the machine. A direct hit on the target and the batteries began to fill. When they were at 100%, you cut off the stream. Your chest was heaving, not used to using your powers. 

“How do you feel, molniyenosnyy zhuk (lightning bug)?” You looked at the Black Widow. 

“Good,” you said honestly. “Like a weight has been lifted off my chest. I can breathe easily again.” 

*

Helen cleared you that evening. After a shower and a quick dinner, you found yourself on the couch laying on Kate’s stomach as she flipped through the streaming services to find a movie. It was so different from cuddling with her over a blanket. You could feel the warmth she radiated off and sometimes she could run her fingers through your hair. “Are you stealing my girlfriend?” Yelena asked, sitting by your feet. “Can I pet your legs on my lap?” You nodded and she lifted your legs.  

“I’m not stealing her,” you smiled. “Just burrowing her.” You felt Kate’s laughter rumble through her. 

“We can cuddle anytime,” she said. “Alright, when I’m not cuddling Lena.” She added on quickly. The blonde’s cheek turned a light pink which caused you to giggle. 

“What are you watching?” America asked, climbing over the couch to sit next to Kate. She had a bowl of popcorn and you took some from her. 

“No clue,” Kate said, throwing the remote at Yelena. “Pick something.” The Russian rolled her eyes. “Oh I’m about to lose my cuddle buddy in 3,2, and 1,” Kate mumbled as Wanda and Natasha sat on the other side of the couch. Your body tensed up as you stared at the couple but you didn’t move. “Go on,’ Kate said. You looked up at the archer. 

“Are you sure?” You asked. Kate nodded with a smile. You sat up and walked over to the couple, fidgeting with your hands. 

“Can I sit with you guys?” You asked, pointing to the space between them. 

“Pop a squat, squirt,” Natasha said, moving over slightly. You sat down, resting your head on Natasha’s shoulder. 

“I’m putting on the Greatest Showman,” Yelena said. “Any objections? No. Perfect.” You didn’t care what you watched, perfectly content with being right here. 

*

  It wasn’t long before Natasha noticed the teen falling asleep against her. “Do you want to go to bed?” Natasha whispered. She shook her head, instead, she moved closer to Natahsa and rested her head on her chest. Wanda maneuvered the girl’s legs across her lap. A small smile formed on her face. 

“Can I see your magic?” She asked the witch, keeping her voice too low to not disturb the movie. Wanda nodded and her fingers began to glow. To Natasha’s surprise, the girl raised her hand and the flow moved from Wanda’s fingers to her own. “It feels alive,” she whispered. “Like a small heartbeat.” She connected their hands and the red glow was put out. Natasha saw tears forming in her girlfriend’s eyes. “I like it,” she closed her eyes. Soon her breathing evened out and she was asleep, still holding on tightly to Wanda’s hand. 

“Are you okay?” Natasha asked, putting her hand on the back of Wanda’s neck and playing with the baby's hair. 

“Yeah,” she whispered, looking at their connected hands. “I’m great.” 

*

“So where is this ring from?” You asked, holding onto Yelena’s hand and looking at the rings. You and the blonde were tasked with breakfast duty. It was probably easier to order and have Happy pick it up but you wanted to see Annie and get a hug from her. Yelena looked at the ring you asked about. 

“It’s a handle of a spoon made into a ring,” she said, taking it off and handing it to you. It was a very unique design and it was impressive that it was a spoon. “One of the Widows we saved opened up a small business to sell them.” 

“It’s beautiful,” you handed it back to her. “I think I want some rings. But I don’t think it’s a good idea to wear them. You know with the whole ability to produce electricity,” Yelena chuckled, allowing you to take her hand again. 

“How does it feel to have everyone know?” She asked. You tilted your head as you thought about it. You haven’t had much time to think about it. It was weird, and bizarre to have a group of people know what you could do and not blink an eye. They acted like nothing changed. 

“Kind of weird,” you admitted. “I guess it’s another thing I have to get used to.” Yelena opened the door to the cafe. The familiar bell announced your presence in the busy cafe. Annie looked up and she smiled when she saw you. She spun around to talk to someone but you weren’t close enough to hear what she said. Annie left the counter and a young girl took her place. “Did you hire someone?” You asked as she walked over to you. 

“We did,” she led you over to her office. “We’ve been busy and we needed extra help.” She opened the door and ushered you in. “How are you, sugar?” She asked as the door closed behind you. “They told me you were hurt.” You looked at the Russian, unaware that Annie was informed. She shrugged. 

“She’s important to you so she’s a part of this family,” you smiled. 

“I’m good actually. The best I’ve been.”

“That’s great!” She excitedly said. “I’m so happy for you.” It was now or never you thought, playing with the bottom of your shirt. 

“We came here for more than just food,” she tilted her head. “Can I have a hug?” You asked. The surprise on her face made you smile. For as long known as the Breaux, they knew your fear of touching others. “I don’t think I’ve ever said thank you to you and Paul,” you said, trying to look anywhere besides the woman in front of you. “You saved my life so thank you.”

“Oh sweetheart, come here,” she held out her arms. Without hesitation, you hugged her. Her arms wrapped around you. She was warm and smelt like cinnamon, sugar, and coffee. It smelt like home. 

*

“You wanted to speak with us,” Natasha said, sitting down in the empty chairs in front of Helen’s desk with Wanda. FRIDAY notified the couple that the doctor wanted to speak with them. It filled Natasha with unnecessary anxiety. 

“It’s nothing bad,” she told them, closing a file. “How much do you know about touch deprivation?” 

“It occurs when some doesn’t get as much or any physical touch,” Wanda said. Helen nodded. 

“It’s just physical touch but any emotional interaction. A person may feel isolated or experience symptoms of depression,” the doctor explained. 

“You think Y/n is touch deprived.” Natasha guessed where this conversation was headed. 

“Yes. She admitted to not having her skin touched positively for a long time. Skin-to-skin contact is not only for mental and emotional health but physical health, too,” she leaned forward, head resting on her hands. “I love that she’s opening up to all of you and allowing herself that level of comfort but I wanted to go over some things with you.”

“Of course,” Natasha said. “We’ll do anything to help her.” So Helen began to explain ways to help. Give her plenty of positive touch and never associate touch with negativity like pinching or pushing her away. 

“Set boundaries with her and don’t be worried if she regresses to younger behaviors. Her entire life she’s been denied a safe place to receive love, now she has it.” 

“Do you think having her speak with someone could help?” Natasha suggested. She remembered Sam saying he could find someone to talk to. Helen thought for a moment. 

“I think it could do her some good but I wouldn’t spring it onto her now,” she said. “It took a while for her to trust you and she hasn’t fully opened up yet. Give her time to adjust to this new normal.” 

*

You were playing thumb war with Sam on the common floor when the elevator opened. A glance over and you saw Wanda and Natasha. “Ah I won,” Sam said, pinning your thumb with his. You stuck your tongue out at him. 

“Breakfast is from Annie’s,” you told the couple as they walked over to the kitchen. The tower was quiet. America was at the Sanctum, Yelena, Tony, and Maria was in Overwatch, and Kate was working on more trick arrows in the lab. You swung your legs as they made their plate. 

“Have you eaten?” Wanda asked. 

“This girl can eat,” Sam teased, rustling your hair. You pushed his hand away. “Is Helen free?” Natasha nodded. “I’ll see you guys later.” It was not you three alone. 

“Why were you with Helen?” You asked, sipping on your orange juice. 

“She just wanted to go over some stuff about you and your recovery that we can help you with,” you gave her a questioning look. Natasha sighed, taking a small bite of her food. “Do you know about touch deprivation?” She asked. You nodded, crossing your arms. Sometimes you would feel your arms tingle when you watch those around you embrace. An ache in your chest would grow and you knew it was loneliness.” 

“Helen thinks I’m touch deprived,” you said, not able to look at them. The soft hand of Wanda touched your arm. “Natasha was my first hug in 9 years,” you admitted. “Before that, I would get a hug from my brother when my parents weren’t around.” You finally looked up. “I’m sorry I’m so messed up.” You tried to joke to lighten the mood. 

“Sweetheart, you’ve been through a lot of your age,” Natasha said. “We all have baggage that we carry.”

“But now you don’t have to do it alone,” Wanda added. 

“So, you don’t mind that I want to cuddle with you.” It was a fear that was bubbling inside of you. They were only doing this to be nice. 

“Not at all,” Natasha smiled. “And if we can’t or we’re busy we’ll tell you, okay?” You nodded, smiling. 

“I hugged Annie today,” you told them. “It was nice.” 

“I’m proud of you, dorogoy (sweetheart),” you smiled at her praise. “So what’s your plan for today?” You shrugged. You haven’t thought about that. You haven’t read in a while or practiced your Russian but those activities seemed like a lot of work still. So, you were just going to hang around the tower and you told the couple that. “Do you want to hang out with us?” 

“Yes!” You said without any hesitation. “I mean, yes sure sounds good.” Your cheeks flushed at your excitement. Natasha chuckled. 

“That was cute,” your cheeks flushed a deeper pink. “We’ll show you some of our favorite spots in the city. We’ll clean this up and we’ll head out. Do you need anything from your room?” You nodded, waiting to grab your phone. “Perfect! We’ll meet you up there.” You jumped off your seat and took the stairs to your floor. On your nightstand, the yellow rubber gloves were there. You picked them up and sat down on your bed. For the longest time, the gloves were the only thing in your life that was constant. Every morning, afternoon, and night they were there to cover your hands and offered you a sense of protection and safety. 

“Hey,” you looked up at Natasha. “Are you okay?” She asked, leaning against your doorway. 

“Yeah,” you said, hitting the gloves against your hands. “Just thinking,” you put your phone into your pocket and walked into the kitchen. With one final look at the gloves, you threw them away. It was time to move forward and not let fear control your future.  

- 

Taglist:   @aestruvx, @toouncreativeforausername, @modedddd, @julilamoment, @mythixmagic, @yourmamacom, @vicmc624, @cherlenovix, @liliesandrosies, @whitewidowsbite, @clintsbigtoe,   @blackbirdv98   @arualdcg  @yoyo-w​  @natbelovasblog

[vcnillazelda]

Hey, how a about Gaz x f!reader where reader is a rival of 141 and ends up kidnapping them. Reader joined the army a couple of months before Gaz so they know her well enough, so when she sees Gaz for the first time she’s like “who is this pretty thing” and flirts with him and stuff she even takes his hat before she leaves (she fr wears it everywhere) and he doesn’t get it back until she gets taken in for questioning or something. Tysm, have a good day :))

pretty boy

kyle “gaz” garrick x fem! reader

summary: the team slips up and ends up in a less than favourable situation, yet gaz gets quite the experience.

tags: kidnapping, enemies to lovers, dubcon affection, flirty! reader, gaz flirts back ngl, valeria is here too <3, mild spoilers, angst with a happy ending, eventual fluff, smoking, sharing cigarettes, paranoia, survivors guilt, not canon compliant

a/n: i low-key went above and beyond for this ngl- i just love him so much look at his pretty face 😭

✞———————❖———————✞

gaz wakes up, blinking a few times. he’s confused, his head is pounding, and most importantly he doesn’t recognise his surroundings. “what the…?” he whispers, memories slowly trickling back in to him. the team, something went wrong- their intel was wrong about el sin nombre. the enemy had the upper hand. “you’re awake.” a voice chimes. it’s awfully familiar, yet he can’t pin it. the door opens fully, and a woman steps in. valeria garza… el sin nombre. how did he end up with the boss out of everyone in the cartel. “fuck you.” gaz snarls, yet the woman just laughs. “feisty. i like that, it’s more satisfying to snuff them.” she mumbles, pistol vaguely brushing under his chin, tilting his head back. “here’s how this is going to go. you’ll tell me all the information you can offer about your little… operation- and in return, i’ll let you live.” she purrs, gaz tilts his head away. “over my dead body.” he grumbles, adrenaline spiking as her safety clicks off. “don’t test me.” valeria’s voice goes stern and icy.

“boss. alejandro wants to talk to you.” another voice says from the door, and she pulls away. “is that so? he finally come to his senses?” she asks, and you step in. “it appears so. i can take care of this one for you.” you state, and valeria chuckles. “i’d expect nothing less from you, novata.” valeria leans in, whispering something to you before leaving the room. you wait until the door is shut before turning to him, a soft smile on your lips. (rookie)

“aren’t you pretty.” you smile, slinking around his chair so he couldn’t see you. “who are you?” he demands, trying not to tense up as your fingers slide over his shoulders teasingly. “that’s not important… i wanna know about you.” your hand moves, index finger gently tapping his cheek. gaz tilts his head away. “you’re not getting anything from me.” he mutters, his wrists aching due to the binds around them. “that’s a shame. i was gonna do something nice, a quid pro quo….” you trail off, snatching his hat and placing it onto your own head as you move around him, taking a seat upon his lap. gaz sucks in a soft breath, averting your gaze, yet your slender fingers grasp his jaw, bringing him back. “look at me, pretty boy… tell me, how long have you been under the task force?” you ask, index and middle fingers gently stroking his skin. gaz feels weak.

“a few months, at least.” he mutters, cracking under your suffocating pressure. “is that so..?” you ask, voice a soft mumble as you take in his features. “yeah.” he responds, deciding on soaking in your visage as well, he wanted to remember so he could take you down- yet you’re so pretty, he can’t help but want you on his side. “why are you with el sin nombre?” he blurts out, and you chuckle. “my, you’re straightforward aren’t you?” you ask back, and he hums. “a little… i just wanna know the pretty girl on my lap a bit better.” he smiles, trying to use your own tactics against you whilst also genuinely trying to flirt with you. “i might tell you, if you tell me your name.” you reply, getting up. “gaz. my names gaz.”

you laugh again, and this time he feels a little confused. “what?” he asks, and you stifle your giggles. “do you think i was born yesterday? your real name, cutie.” you smile, hand resting upon the table before him. “kyle. what’s your name?” he knows it’s stupid to ask, and you simply smile sweetly, moving on. “my boss, el sin nombre- isn’t she cool? she wants some intel. normally i’d get it myself but you and your friends fell right into my honeytrap. it would be a shame to waste this time with just flirting.” you mumble, and kyle hums. “what if i want to flirt with you?” he asks, and you giggle. “you wouldn’t be the first.” you wink. “shame. i’d like having you on my side.” gaz gives a smile, and you hum. “is that so?” you ask, voice soft. “i don’t think we’d be that good of a match. i’m in a cartel.” he jumps at the opportunity. “we’d protect you. you don’t have to be here.” you laugh at his words. “baby, no one gets rid of el sin nombre. this little thing is just empty flirting.” you dismiss his attempts at a negotiation. he doesn’t know why, but gaz feels slightly hurt that you turned him down.

“i see.” he mumbles, and you give him a dramatic pout. “don’t be too sad, we can still talk.” you state, it’s meant to be patronising, yet gaz takes it straight to his heart. “i’d hope so. it would be a shame to lose a pretty face so soon.” you smile at his words. “you’re adorable. it’s such a shame i can’t keep you for myself.” you mutter, grasping his face with gentle palms. gaz smiles at you, and you pull away, looking at the door. “what’s wrong?” he asks, and you look back at him. “hm… gouging options…” you mumble, thumbs softly stroking his cheekbones. “and what would those options be?” he mutters. you smile again and gaz feels like he’s winning the olympics.

“come with me. i want to show you something…” you mumble, unsheathing your blade and cutting him free. “a risky move.” he mumbles, and you hum. “you wouldn’t hurt a pretty thing like me, i can see it in your eyes.” you pat his chest as he gets up. “how would you know?” he asks, and you giggle, grabbing his hand. “i just do.” you tug him along, opening the door. “be quiet. i wouldn’t want to hurt you.” you whisper, leading him through the hallways. gaz feels lost, simply following you blindly, for all he knew he could be walking to his death- yet he was doing it with a very pretty girl by his side.

as soon as the two of you step outside, the cold night air nips his face and he wishes he had his hat back to protect his ears from the freezing temperature- yet he doesn’t want to be rude, even if you kidnapped him and supposedly his friends… he would have to ask if you had his colleagues. “look.” you mumble, nudging his side as you sit upon a broken wall overlooking the road leading up to the base. “what am i looking at?” he asks, leaning upon the wall. you grasp his chin, tilting his head up from the road so he could see the view. “this is one of el sin nombre’s hideouts. it’s beautiful out here.” you mumble, showing gaz the quarry the hideout was hidden by. “it is beautiful.” he agrees, furrowing his brows. “why are you showing me this?”

“i’m tapped into your friends’ comms. they’re scanning through this area soon. i want you to have a look at where you’re going.” you point to the quarry, the gushing water distant. “i’m the only one here?” he asks, and you nod. “i promise, you’re the only one.” you tell him. “why are you helping me?” gaz asks, and you smile, it’s more sad now. “you’re too pretty for this place, kyle. go do what i couldn’t do.” you gesture to the open area around you. “what couldn’t you do?” you chuckle at his question. “i was in training at the task force you’re in, 141… i was in the same situation as you. i…” you trail off, taking a soft breath. “i’m kind of stuck here- but it’s okay. valeria’s nice enough to me.” you mumble, looking at some fireflies in the distance. gaz absorbs the information, blinking. “that’s why you’re helping me…” he mutters, and you nod. “come with me.” he states, drawing your gaze to his face.

“i can’t.” you deadpan, and he grasps your arm gently. “you can! we’re here, together. you said it yourself, my team is coming here soon-“ you cut gaz off by resting your palm against his chest. “gaz, listen. i cant. el sin nombre will kill me the second she finds out i did this for you. there’s no doubt in my mind she’ll figure it out, she’s smart like that…” you tell him, and gaz sighs. “so come with me, we can leave now.” he can’t believe he’s begging you, an enemy, to come with him- how would he explain that? “kyle…” you mumble, sighing softly as you got down from the wall. “i’d love to, really… but i cant.” you tell him. “please go.” you request, and gaz grasps your arms before you can leave. “not until i convince you to come with me. you don’t have to be here, you don’t have to be scared- i can help you.” he tells you, and you see the desperation to help you in his eyes. “no one can help me.” you tell him, leaning in.

your lips ghost over his, and he kisses you with the gentleness of someone holding a thin shard of glass. it’s short and fleeting yet so sweet. you seize the opportunity, pushing him with all your might so he tumbled over the wall. gaz yells at the suddenness, sliding and rolling down the hill, hitting his hip on a rock. he stumbles to his feet at the bottom, looking up. you give him a sad smile before dipping back into the warehouse. gaz let’s out a soft sigh, turning and running to the quarry where he would wait to be rescued.

-

weeks pass by, and gaz finally convinced alejandro to raid the warehouse, desperate to find you… hes kissed you once, but he didn’t even get your name. gaz feels like kicking himself, pacing as price rolls his eyes. “you’ll mark the carpet at this rate, son.” he states, and gaz lets out a soft hum; not responding any more than that. “sit down. relax. the boys will find your mystery girl.” the older man pats the chair beside him, and gaz sighs. “i can’t believe i didnt get her name…” he grumbles, and price chuckles. “heat of the moment, son. plenty of men do it.” he teases, backing off with fake surrender as gaz gives him a glare. “okay, okay. just sit down, you’re making me anxious.” price tells him, and he sighs. “fine…”

hours tick by, but eventually rudy pops his head into the break room. “gaz? there’s a girl in questioning. she wants to speak to you.” he states, and gaz immediately hops up, running to the rooms. he sees you through the two way mirror and immediately opens the door. alejandro looks over, giving him a nod. “i’ll take over, alejandro. thanks.” he mutters, taking the handcuff’s key from the older man and watching the other leave before closing the door. his gaze meets yours, and you give a small smile. “what happened?” he asks, immediately unlocking the cuffs around your wrists. “oh, sweet boy… no one can cross el sin nombre and go unpunished.” you smile, it’s sad and weak. “have you received medical aid?” he asks, cupping your face the way you did weeks ago. “no, not yet. your boss doesn’t trust me.” you reply, and gaz furrows his brows. “alejandro?” he asks, and you nod. “seems right…” he mutters, turning to leave. “hey..?” you grasp his wrist and he turns back. “im going to get you some medical aid.” he explains, and you chuckle softly. “it’s not that bad, trust me.” you assure him, pulling him back slowly. “alright…”

you watch him sit on the seat across from you. “you still have my hat?” he asks, and you smile, nodding a little. “yeah. haven’t taken it off since i met you.” you tell him. you seem less flirty in this environment, probably because of the environment- you most likely didn’t feel safe and gaz understood that. “what did they ask you?” he asks, and you shrug. “about el sin nombre’s plans. i told them all that i know, and i don’t know much.” you reply, and gaz nods. “are you joining us again?” gaz watches you laugh softly. “i doubt it, cutie.” you smile, it’s less pained. “why not?” he furrows his brows. “i worked with valeria garza. there’s no way your friends would trust me now.” you tell him, “i’m the one that arranged your kidnapping, too.” you add on, and gaz nods a little. “you’re also the one who let me go unharmed.”

“yeah..” you mumble, and gaz takes your hand in his. “stay with me. i’ll keep you safe.” he whispers. you give his hand a tight squeeze, as if it’s the affection you’ve been craving your whole life. “i wish i could… el sin nombre is probably arranging my assassination right now as we speak- she probably thinks i’m giving a lot more information than i have.” you sigh, thumb running over his knuckles as you stare at the table, lost. “why’d you put your life at risk just for me?” he asks, it’s a question that’s been nagging him since he got rescued. “you’re cute, not to mention smart and obviously skilled to get into 141. you’d be an awful waste of you died so early into your career. besides, i told you why on the wall.” you shrug, smiling rather innocently. “you like me..?” he asks, and you chuckle. “that’s what you gathered from that entire sentence?” you smile. “maybe.” he smiles back.

the conversation carries on. you’re much more comfortable, your flirty nature coming back as you grow to trust gaz with your safety. gaz’s cheeks hurt from smiling at you so much. it feels like an odd first date… yet you probably don’t see it that way. “i’ll ask price to let you back in… your file must be here somewhere, especially if you were marked as m.i.a.” gaz declares, you downcast your gaze. “you don’t have to.” you mutter, and gaz sighs. “i want to. think of it as me repaying you for saving me.” he responds, and you hum. “okay… but i don’t think it’s gonna work…” you reply. gaz nods, getting up, taking his hat back with a soft smile. “i’ll see what i can do for you.” he goes to walk away, yet you tug him back for the second time. standing, you pull him in and kiss his cheek. “thank you, kyle.” you mutter, sitting back down. “for what?” he asks, furrowing his brows. “for believing in me. it takes guts to accept an enemy.” you smile, and gaz sighs. “you’re no enemy. just a victim of circumstance.” he mutters, letting your palm slip from his as he leaves.

-

price looks skeptical. alejandro looks disgusted. rudy looks a little concerned. everyone looks extremely against him. “just trust me! she’s not as bad as them! she was one of us!” he argues despite no one saying anything. alejandro sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “and if she’s playing you? what if she spills all our intel to el sin nombre and betrays us?” the man argues back, and gaz steels his gaze. “you saw the condition she’s in. el sin nombre is no ally of hers anymore. she’s in the same boat as us now, whether you like it or not!” he steps forward, his index finger poking alejandro’s chest as if to challenge him. “you better watch your tone with me, pendejo-“ he snaps, tone low and dangerous until price steps in. “y/n was a good soldier. i trust her… we just need to give her time to see if she’s still the same soldier we knew.”

alejandro looks from gaz to price, then back at gaz. “you’re agreeing with him?” he asks, still unsure as he looks to price again. “i am. y/n’s not as dangerous as you think.” he pats the other man’s shoulder. “trust me on this, alejandro.” he mutters, and gaz tries not to hold his breath. “fine. but, any suspicious activity and i’m putting her under the ground.” he grumbles, storming out. rudy looks at gaz once more before following alejandro. “does this mean y/n’s back on the team?” johnny asks, and price nods. “i guess so.”

-

gaz finds you outside, smoking a cigarette. rudy’s in the window beside you, keeping an eye on you as he smokes too. “i didn’t know you smoked.” gaz states openly, rudy nods a little as you hum. “he’s the one who gave it to me.” you mutter, gesturing to rudy who takes a silent drag. “i’m supposed to have quit… now seems like a good time to have a cig though… want some?” you ask, offering gaz your cigarette. he hums, accepting it as rudy snuffs his cigarette bud, flicking it into the drain. “i’ll leave you two be.” he mumbles, leaving the window open as he walks off- probably to find alejandro. “so… you’re back on the team.” gaz tells you, handing your cigarette back. “is that so?” you ask, not sounding too interested. “you don’t sound thrilled. what’s up?” he asks, and you sigh. “i wont last long… i feel it. she’s out there.” you mumble. “she won’t get you. i’m here with you.” gaz assures you. his fingers gently nudge your palm, and you glance down, looking up at him. he gives you a soft smile, and you slowly tangle your fingers into his.

-

your training started up again, price was warm and kind, being quite gentle with you. you’re progressing well, already back up to scratch with the team. alejandro doesn’t entirely trust you, yet rudy does as the two of you smoke together, chatting idly about home. you’re on a mission, using yourself as bait to catch valeria, and gaz is with you the whole time, assuring you that you’re okay every 10 minutes. valeria is now cuffed hours later, and alejandro is leading her to the appropriate forces. she’s shouting about how she won’t be locked up for long, and will be let out in about 24 hours. her gaze meets yours over rudy’s shoulder and your breath hitches. “and you- ¡traidora! you’ll get what’s coming to you!” she threatens. you tense up, swallowing thickly as you boldly grab gaz’s hand. valeria gets into the calm with quite a fuss, and alejandro closes the door with a sigh. “glad that’s over with.” he mutters, walking back to the squad. (traitor!)

gaz tugs your hand softly, leading you away from the scene as everyone starts wrapping up. “don’t worry about her, love. she wont get you for as long as i live.” he mutters, leading you to the car. you don’t respond, squeezing his hand tightly for comfort as the two of you get into the backseat. “relax. she’s gonna be in custody. i hope she’ll be away forever, but knowing how corrupt the system is she’ll probably be out sooner than that…” he mumbles, glancing at you. “sorry- i didn’t mean it like that…” he adds on, pulling you into a hug. you hug back, sighing. “i’m not as scared anymore- but i’m still paranoid.” you mumble, and gaz nods. “anyone would be.” he reassures you, rubbing your back as he rests his head against yours. “hey, how about we take a night off tonight? just us?” gaz suggests and you pull away a little. “okay…”

-

you’re half asleep against gaz, what was supposed to be a movie night between the two of you in his room was now a movie in the background as he coddles you to his chest. you’ve had a stressful day, so he understands wanting to just wind down and relax. one thing has been bothering gaz throughout the night… the two of you were incredibly close, too close to be friends- you both kissed often. he remembers after your first mission back with the task force the two of you drank before making out until your lips were sore and swollen. the two of you even shared a bed, and were always at each other’s side, yet neither of you used a label. gaz would like a label… he’d like you to be his. gently, he shakes you, causing you to stir again. “wha..? what’s wrong?” you ask, hands pressing to his chest. “sorry… i just…. i’ve been thinking.”

“oh god-“ you joke, cuddling back into him. “what are we, y/n? are we like… a thing?” gaz asks, and you hum. “i dunno… i haven’t really thought about it.” you reply, gaz feels rejection building. “would… you like to be a thing?” he asks cautiously. you smile, kissing his neck softly. “if you’d have me, gaz.” you mumble. gaz beams, pulling away a little to kiss your lips as if he were a man starved. “i’d love to have you as mine.” he mutters, voice soft. “then i’m yours.” you reply, hand gently stroking his cheek as he kisses you again. “get some rest, love. you need it.” he tells you, kissing your forehead. you hum, cuddling close to his chest again as gaz closes his eyes. he never thought he’d say it, but he’s glad he got kidnapped.

[puppy-phum]

how last twilight went in my head

It’s soon been a year since Last Twilight started airing and while it did some things right, it also did many things wrong. I’m not only talking about the ending and how it ruined the whole show for me, but also smaller things that I now see more as flaws. Or maybe not flaws per se; they’re rather things that could’ve been done better if some more thought was put into the story as a whole. (Which is ironic to say when I know how many hours they already spent writing the story.) 

You see, I had a lot of expectations for this series. Many of us had, I guess, and it sucks that those expectations were not met. I also acknowledge that I’m partly at fault for my own disappointment; I’m obviously only one person and no person responsible for the series would be able to read my mind and make it 100% like I wanted it to be. But they gave me the pilot trailer, left me with it for over a year before the official trailer came out, and during that time I was holding that pilot like a precious trinket in my hands. I was turning it around and around under the light, watching and studying every glimmer and reflection with wonder. I thought I knew what they were trying to tell me. I thought I understood. 

Then the series came out and it strayed far from what I’d imagined it would be. Once again, not completely their fault, and I was watching the show with an open mind – I wanted to like it, however it was. But the closer to the end we got, the more I noticed that I was starting to bend my mind backwards to explain some things for myself. I started making excuses for them. And then at some point, I realized I didn’t have to do that. They shouldn’t require me to do that just to have me like what they'd created. 

So I eventually accepted that Last Twilight just wasn’t for me and that I was disappointed in it. Not only did the ending land far from where I wanted it to go, but so did other things. The flaws started bothering me more. I grew a little more bitter after each day spent thinking about this show. It had become something unrecognizable, and so I had to make it right. I had to paint the picture that will never be forgotten again.

These are my thoughts on what I thought the show would be like, how the characters would be, how the relationships would develop, and where the show would end. All of this is based on the pilot trailer and many details remain vague because of that; some thing I only came up with while writing all this. I don't have a full story in my head, only bits and pieces I thought would be part of it one day.

(Most of this rant is directed towards the lovely Monica @stormyoceans and Mimi @dimpledpran, as well as maybe Leo @idaokiwatine. Otherwise, I don’t know if anyone is interested in this, but this has been stuck in my head for too long and I needed to find some relief.) 

(placing the rest of this under the cut bc it got super long)

Mork’s life – past and present

The pilot trailer introduces Mork (not Mhok btw, I refuse to change my mind about that) and his side of the story very briefly. That is expected from a 4 minutes long pilot trailer that’s main point is to rouse the viewers’ curiosity and only introduce the story as it was during the time of filming that pilot. Despite the briefness, we still get the essentials: Mork is harsh spoken, a bit crude, playful, aloof, and quite melancholic at times. We learn he works as a mechanic, is friends with Porjai (not named yet in the pilot), and most importantly, has a debt he has to pay off. 

They left that debt out once the show came out, and its absence made me frown. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against the change. I like the alternative story line with Rung and how her passing has left Mork deeply scarred. I love the symbolism of Rung’s car which Mork is unable to sell because as much as he is bitter about his sister’s decision to end her life, he cannot cut her and her memory out of his own life. It’s a good premise, yet the show doesn’t really explore it enough to make it stick, so I both love it and mourn it.  

Anyway, when the pilot trailer introduced the debt plot to us, I got attached to that thought. That’s probably the most accurate way to put it, to talk about any of these thoughts I will introduce here. I am attached to my own delusions of this show. So let’s continue observing them:

Mentioning Mork's debt made me assume that it was a core element of Mork’s character and his motives in the story. It would be the starting point of his journey, and I was excitedly waiting for them to tell me more in the series. What kind of debt is it? How large? Where does it originate from? Who does Mork owe money to? How does that debt affect his life? How long has that debt affected his life?

And while I was waiting for the answers, I started coming up with answers of my own:

Mork is left with his family’s debt, not his own. He's an only child who carries his parents’ debt after their unfortunate passing (accidental or organized? Irrelevant for me during that time). That debt will stand in front of Mork’s future, holding him back. It’s like a weight he cannot get rid of even if he tries, its pressure stopping him from running forward. If I have to make comparisons, I thought Mork’s story would be a bit like Jack’s in Jack & Joker; he cannot start a new life before he’s settled his debt. 

These thoughts were backed by Porjai who in the pilot tells Mork to pay off his debt; to think about his future again. Ths switch seemed important somehow. Porjai doesn’t want Mork to continue living like this, always owing money to someone and struggling to survive. Things need to change for him. He needs to find something else than work, avoiding his debtors, paying off his debt, fearing for himself, and not caring about his future. There needs to be another path he can take, a better road for him to walk upon.

And then, Mork meets Day. 

How would that happen? I don’t have a clear answer to this but based on what was shown and said in the pilot trailer, I somehow assumed it would happen through Porjai (which it still kind of does, but it’s more accidental in the series). The pilot trailer introduces Porjai as the person who comes up with new things for Mork to do, jobs that would pay better. This made me assume that following her ideas would eventually lead Mork to Day.

As a side note, I find it really interesting what Porjai's ideas for a better job are. When talking about quick, easy money, her offer is “dining with rich clients”. Not something you’d expect her to offer to a mechanic like Mork, right? It's nothing like what she offers to Mork in the series now. Getting Mork a random gig as an AC repairman makes a little more sense than this, though this offer also makes Porjai a completely different character. 

The offer really left me thinking, okay. Mork doesn't accept it, of course, and I understand why it’s not something Mork would do based on how we see him, but why does Porjai suggest something like it? What exactly is Porjai thinking Mork should work wth? What does “dining with rich clients” actually mean? Because for me, that sounds hell a lot like she is suggesting Mork become an escort/host (at a host club???), and so that was a thought I started linking to her. 

Porjai is the one talking to rich clients every day. She works as an escort/hostess somewhere and they pay good money for it. She knows it’s an easy job once you get into it and Mork could pay off his debt that way, maybe, if he was able to take the pressure. But he wouldn't, and so they find something else.   

But what exactly leads Mork to ring the doorbell at Day’s house? I don’t think Porjai would have a straight connection to Day, but she could know Night.  

In the series we now know, they introduce Night as a bar owner. Maybe Porjai ends up visiting Night’s bar a lot because her clients like to go there? Maybe she knows this bar owner/bartender and sometimes they talk after she’s done with her clients. She and Night are casually acquainted, not too close but on good terms, comfortable. 

And then, during one of these casual talks, Night lets it slip that his brother is going blind and looking for a caretaker. (Maybe he whines about how difficult Day is being about it. Porjai is a good listener, and it’s easy to talk to her, I guess. It must be rough for Night, trying to handle it all.) 

Porjai answers that she knows just the man for the job. Night decides to give it a shot. 

Cue Mork’s interview for a job he’s in no way qualified for, yet he goes anyway because like the pilot says, “he has no option”. It doesn’t sound too hard, taking care of someone. But things are made a bit more difficult by Day, and so the interview scene ensues as it does: Mork reads to Day again, and despite acting like an ass in front of this rich brat that could be his future boss, Mork gets the job. Suddenly, his life is turning around. He’s on his way to paying off his debt and becoming free. 

Mork needs to start thinking about his future. It’s scary because he never had the chance for that before, never got the choice. His parents were gone and he was tied to his debt before he had the opportunity to really dream. So, what does he want to do? Where does he want to go? 

Will he stay around or will he leave all of this behind?

Of course, I assumed that Mork’s plan would be to get enough money to pay off his debt and then quit his job as a caretaker, no strings attached. But Day turns out to be different. Day turns out to be someone who Mork wouldn’t mind staying for. ��Day is more than just the money Mork gets paid, and he needs to come into terms with that, with wanting something for himself.    

Day's side: His family and Mork

It will probably sound funny when I say this but back when the pilot trailer was all I had, I never really gave much thought to why Day is going blind. I know they mention an accident happening, but I thought it was just that – an accident. Something in the past. Something irreversible. Something that cannot be taken back or “fixed”, and now Day just needs to learn how to live with his new reality and move on. (No cornea transplants... I never really saw this coming when the show started. Imagine my shock when they started talking about it.)

What surprised me about the show was also the time that has passed since Day’s accident and since his vision started getting worse, and before he and Mork meet. The pilot left me thinking that Day’s vision was like that ever since the accident; that it was down to 40% (20% in the series) until they later realize that it’s getting even worse. I thought Day was still fumbling to understand his condition, to figure out how to live like this. I thought he had only recovered and spent a short time visually impaired before Mork comes into the picture, and that all these things were as new to him as Mork who has never done this kind of job before. I thought that was going to be part of their dynamic; this sense of newness and slowly learning about things together. About solving problems, finding answers, and adapting.

But well, details. Let’s move on from that.   

Day is mostly introduced to us through Mork’s eyes as he infiltrates Day’s world after accepting his job. We first see the insufferable rich brat, the guy who has it all but now has somewhat less. The guy who is still grieving what he lost with his vision, yet is fiercely trying to claim it all back. He fights for his right for independence by being a stubborn mule who refuses to accept any help. He’s obnoxious, and whiny, and demanding, and a bit snobbish. He is both determined to beat his disability and so close to crumbling under the weight of his own changed reality. 

Mork challenges Day in all the ways Day needs in this moment. At least this aspect of their dynamic remains in the series too, this ability Mork has to keep Day from slipping further into despair. Mork is not afraid to act like a dick to Day who is more than delighted by his boldness. He doesn’t like people treating him like glass, so Mork’s harshness and playfulness is refreshing. It reminds Day of how things used to be; of how he used to be. He even starts accepting Mork’s help after Mork drills it into Day’s skull that it doesn’t make him any weaker. They build their relationship upon mutual understanding, but I'll return to all that a bit later.  

Let’s focus on Night instead and how he fits into all of this. After the pilot trailer, I never imagined that Night would somehow be the reason for Day’s accident – I never even thought he would play such a huge part in Day’s story, though I did think he would play a part in it. 

My first thought about Night was that he was going to act as their mother’s eyes and ears in the house. (I didn’t know what to expect from Night’s character back then, so I just thought there would be a reason for him to stay in the house all day.) He inserts himself into every MorkDay interaction, is present, watches, and studies them. Then he relays what he’s seen to their mother, letting her evaluate Mork’s fitness for the job and how his progress is. I thought this would be a more prevalent aspect of everything, this ever present sense of being watched and judged by an outsider.

This position would've also allowed Night to be the first one to notice when MorkDay’s relationship starts changing. It's difficult for them at first, and maybe Night decides to help Mork out a little. He cares for his brother, after all. He tells Mork privately why Day chose him as his caretaker. He sees something in Mork and decides to help him out. He takes upon the role we see Master Aon carrying in the series now, working as the bridge between Mork’s world of ignorance and Day’s world of newly found obstacles. 

The closeness this springs between the two obviously isn’t part of their mother’s plan. Khun Mhon/Ramon wants Mork to be a caretaker, a professional Day could rely on. She pays Mork for that. The pilot version of feels very different from the her we see in the series, yet she is equally protective of her son.  

This protectiveness causes her to be a meddler, and we witness her questioning what kind of relationship Mork is building with Day once it starts feeling like it's different from what she expected. She’s heard about it from Night (who already questions Mork’s feelings, asking him if he still cares for Day only out of pity) and that makes her doubt Mork. Already attached by this point, Mork is forced to lie and reassure her that he still knows “the boundaries of his responsibility”. 

Because we as viewers are privy to Mork's inner feelings, we can recognize his lie, but Day cannot. Even Day’s “superpower” doesn’t help him at this point, and he is convinced that Mork sticks around for the money only. He hates the thought, hates to think Mork is somehow forced to care for him. That Mork cannot choose for himself because he's the victim of the circumstance. And Day feels pained, feels crushed. He cried to his mother, attached to his caretaker who has somehow become a friend. He does not want this man to leave, and on some level, maybe Day's mother understands. Maybe she is able to accept that her son needs Mork, and Mork is allowed to stay until he's completed his duty.

Day's mother never quite trusts Mork, though. She knows Mork isn't being quite honest about knowing his responsibility with Day, so she worries what might become of them. I think it gets more complicated if Mork’s debt interferes and places Day in danger. Mork cannot stay if his past is haunting him; he cannot stay if his presence is threatening Day's safety. Mork probably struggles with this aspect of his life too, and eventually Day is left with the choice to either accept or tell Mork to leave (and it wouldn't be a romance if we didn't already know his answer).   

I think the question of safety and Mork's ability to do his job well and remain professional would explain Day's mother's apprehension towards him better than how they explain it in the series. I somehow do not feel for her in the show because her worry over Mork’s ability to “take care of Day” (outside of his job, as Day's partner) seems so belittling towards Day as a person. She assumes that Day needs someone to take care of him for the rest of his life as if he will never be independent again. Day never tells her otherwise which I find a little strange when Day otherwise remains so adamant about doing things on his own and mastering skills that allow him independence.

(Though now that I say that, I realize that in the show, they cut off him gaining any of these skills. They don't, for example, ever make Day use a cane or learn braille – skills that I assume would be essential for his independence. He relies on Mork a lot, and even after the time skip in the last episode, he rather asks for a "stranger" to guide him to the car than takes it upon himself to get there the way we all know he can.)

In the middle of all this, come the 180 days they give Day before he loses his vision completely. It changes everything. Of course, those 180 days are not the end for Day – he's not dying or anything. They just mean there’s more for him to do, more for him to process. He needs to reach acceptance and finally find peace with his blindness. 

And all that he does with Mork, with his help and alongside him, which I will talk about next. 

Mork and Day, quietly in love

I think what the show really nails is the development of the MorkDay relationship or at least the basics of it. Especially the first three or so episodes feel absolutely ecstatic as we witness how the mutual distaste between MorkDay turns to curiosity, turns to understanding, turns to hesitant trust, and then to friendship and eventually a crush. It’s all so beautiful – and yet. 

It moves a little too fast, I’d say. That feeling I had ever since episode 2 should’ve probably been my first warning sign that I was not about to get the story I wanted, but I always worked with it. I understood they had only 12 episodes, that they had a lot of story to cover. Some sacrifices had to be made to get all they planned to fit in. 

But. (Because there obviously is a but coming, a big but.) They never used that time they stole wisely. And in my mind, I wanted everything to happen slower, to feel lazier, stickier somehow. You know, I wanted there to be more struggling, more hardship, more setbacks. Things shouldn’t have felt so linear between Mork and Day; not only up after some small bumps in the beginning, without them sometimes moving backwards, too. They were supposed to take two steps forward and one step back, not just walk ahead like it was easy to trust a stranger like that.

(That back and forth could’ve also been the way to fit Mork’s trauma into the story; to force Mork to be vulnerable when he realizes that he has to give something in order to get something back. He learns a thing about Day, Day learns a thing about him. It's only fair.) 

It would just make sense if things were not easy. They’ve both gone through a lot and it’s hard to open up about those things, especially to someone who is still basically a stranger. That made me think that it would take Mork and Day longer to even tolerate each other; Day does not want Mork to be his caretaker, doesn’t want him invading his space. Mork is there for the money, not to listen to Day’s bitching. They’d rather avoid each other than actually spend time together, both agreeing to this out of mutual benefit. Mork gets paid, and Day gets his mother off his back and is free to do how he sees fit. They’re stuck together but it's the lesser evil. 

But that doesn't last forever, and eventually, their curiosity wins. Mork would probably give in first, would want to know more about Day after watching him. He’s the one with the ability to work his way under Day’s skin by annoying Day to opening up. Anger makes us quite honest at times. And when Day slams the doors shut at times, literally and figuratively, Mork remains unphased by the temper tantrums. We see parts of this in the series too, but I always thought it would take them longer to find it themselves to be civil with each other.  

After the door is open though, things start pouring out of it. Vulnerability stops feeling as scary. We see the one palm distance scene happen which is still one of my favorites. It’s so beautiful in the pilot, the epitome of closing the gap between them, of stepping closer. Mork wants Day to see him, and Day's curiosity is aroused.

I was honestly kind of sad that the series gave that scene to us so early. I wasn’t expecting Day to let Mork so close so soon, though I should’ve seen it coming when they turned the flirting setting so high for Mork. I just thought that scene was going to be more than just Mork flirting with Day, about him showing interest. I thought it was about understanding, about wanting to know the other. About wanting yourself to be known.    

I guess my version of Mork by nature is more hesitant to approach Day than he is in the series. He is still direct and unapologetic, won’t take any shit, won’t fear to annoy Day, yet he will be hesitant in other ways. He doesn’t like being vulnerable, doesn’t initially like being seen by Day, doesn't trust so easily. It takes him time to adjust into wanting all this and thinking about it as a good thing.

He also hesitates to touch, to grab, to hold; to get physical with someone who cannot see it coming. Mork might not know a kind touch, mostly used to the roughness and violence of others.

Day would be equally hesitant because it must feel strange to touch people so openly when you cannot se them, right? At least for me, I’d find it weird and uncomfortable to grab a stranger, to suddenly hold them, even if by the arm or shoulder. (Because how do you know it’s an arm or a shoulder you're touching when you cannot see? You cannot be sure. It could be anything.) This requires adjusting from them, accepting this physicality as part of their new relationship. Mork needs to allow himself to be grabbed. Day needs to be bold enough to do it and be comfortable with it.

They discuss boundaries, both for Day and for Mork. What are they comfortable with? Are they comfortable always or only sometimes? Are there times when they do not wish to be touched? Should they announce it when they plan on touching the other? What are the rules of their interactions?

They learn yet again, try to understand. These are the steps they take during their journey as they adjust to each other and their intertwining lives. They start lowering their walls and breaking the boundaries, allowing each other closer, closer, closer.

And suddenly, Mork is no longer just a caretaker. Suddenly, Day is not just someone Mork stays with out of money. More feelings appear, and once one of them – or both of them – recognize those feelings as romantic, things start going south.   

I always assumed that August would play the biggest part in making both Mork and Day admit to their feelings (and he does! The series confirms this). He’s obviously introduced as the “love rival”, the one who makes Mork jealous. He will make Mork understand that these feelings he’s having for Day go beyond professional, beyond friendship. He wants to take care of Day in a completely different way, and that makes him come face to face with a choice: to tell Day or remain silent. To stay or to leave. 

Because here’s the deal: Mork is Day’s employee which requires him to stay professional with Day. There is supposed to be a certain distance between them so that Day can trust Mork as his caretaker, as his aid, as his guide. Mork is supposed to not cross any lines for Day’s safety and comfort. Mork is not supposed to be having these thoughts and feelings about Day.

In the series, I assumed they would point this out; that they would bring out the moral question of are you allowed to look at your "boss" like that, with the eyes of a potential lover, when your professional relationship is as delicate and emotionally intimate as a relationship between a caretaker and the person they’re caring for? Are you allowed to cross that line, even on a thought’s level? Does that affect the trust between you two?

In retrospect, I find it a little weird how little Last Twilight brings up this issue. Back in the day I even saw someone mention it in a post (I cannot remember who or where) after pointing out how often and easily these positions of trust allow taking advantage of the other person. Not saying that Day wouldn’t be able to fight for himself or stand his own ground if Mork was, indeed, being a creep about it, but Day unfortunately cannot see it happening. If Mork had bad intentions, I think he would have many chances to take advantage of Day’s disability. Day’s in a vulnerable position that has nothing to do with his capability. 

So, why not make the viewers think about it more? Why is Mork not realizing how much power he holds? Even after he becomes aware of his feelings in the series and starts thinking Day might feel the same, it’s Porjai who points out that they’re still employer and employee. Mork works for Day, and Day is supposed to be able to trust in his professionalism no matter what. 

Of course, Mork is prepared to quit his job after their kiss in the series if Day doesn’t feel the same for him. He doesn’t want to make Day uncomfortable once he’s been made aware of Mork’s feelings. But my initial expectations based on the pilot were that this conflict of positions would play a bigger part. Night questions Mork's feelings first, Day's mother does it next. Mork decides to hide behind his lies. This made me think that we would succumb into a limbo of “will he or will he not?” as both Mork and Day struggle with handling their own (slightly forbidden) feelings. 

It's just that they both wish to stay like this and they both fear that the other one will leave if they were to be honest about their feelings. It feels easier to put on the mask and pretend they’re still an employer and employee. Out of selfish reasons, they both need each other. On the other hand, they both see why the other would need this relationship to remain as it is.

If we assume that we embark on the 180 days journey with MorkDay once they're already aware of their feelings and are both remaining mum about it, I think their reasons to remain go like this:

Mork stays because he doesn't want to abandon Day now that he is facing all this so suddenly. It's a big shock to Day to realize that he will lose his sight completely, and he's formed this bond with Mork that Mork hates to rip away from him when he's already feeling vulnerable. It's Mork's priority to make Day feel safe and comfortable. It's Mork's wish to make Day happy, and so he wants to stand beside Day as he faces these last 180 however many days he might have. Mork helps Day to make the most of that time he has because what else is there for Mork to do? To return to his old job and struggle again? To be forever trapped in his debt? Because at least like this he is paying off his debt slowly and not feeling as trapped.

For Day, he might hate the thought that Mork stays because of his duty, but it's also that it helps Mork. The money he's getting obviously means a lot, is more than Mork ever thought he would have. Day has seen and heard about Mork's life before, how violent it all was/is, how much he struggles. He wants Mork to stay if it will help him. He wants Mork to stay because it helps Day. He likes being with Mork and Mork makes him happy, and all this change feels a little less scary. He thinks he's learning how to live again, with Mork.

This type of setting would’ve offered a delicious opportunity to explore the slowly blurring line between their professional relationship and what can be seen as something else, something more. It would’ve offered some very delicious gay yearning, and I think these moments could’ve been depicted through scenes like the fish tank scene or the fitting room scene. Of course, those scenes work as they are now, as indicators of budding feelings between Mork and Day. But those could’ve also been scenes that show their feelings to the viewer, make them obvious to any observer, yet remain hidden from the object of those feelings himself. The want to touch, to be closer; yet the fear to be too close, to get rejected, and eventually, to lose everything. 

They have six months, dedicated only to each other. They have six months before some kind of end or a beginning or whatever they wish to think of it as. Six months. I would've loved the slow burn of it all, seeing those six months shape and morph and change them.

The ending

And what about when those six months come to an end? How would things look like to them? How would the whole story eventually end?

Honestly, I think the story in my head had a lot of similarities to what we get in the first 9 episodes of Last Twilight: Mork and Day meet, start developing a bond, find happiness and a new hope in each other, Day gets his final 180 days before he goes completely blind, and MorkDay decide to spend that time exploring together. Things are nice, simple.

Yet, I think they start that journey with very different ending goals in their minds. They have very different thoughts on how things will look like to them by the end of their six months, and while they spend time together and ponder on their hidden feelings, those thoughts only solidify. And this is what I think goes on in their heads and how it shapes the final ending of my own version of this story:

Mork comes to the realization that by the end of this journey, Day will no longer need a caretaker, need him. His duty is done and he is free to go. His debt will be paid (maybe he's counted he will have enough money by then), and he can plan his future however he wishes. Maybe this even means that it is his time to go and live the life he never got to have before. Why would he stay if Day no longer needs him? If other bonds (friendship, companionship) remain, they will be able to keep in touch through their phones, even if from a distance. 

For Day, it's all very different. He might be very hesitant at first, not quite trusting his own feelings, not quite believing in himself. But after each day, after each moment spent with Mork, he grows a little surer. He knows what he wants. He knows what he wants from this future Mork has helped Day realize is still in front of him.

He wants Mork. He wants them to stay together.

So, during his last seeing moments, Day gathers his courage and kisses Mork. That is his last image, the last thing he wishes to do, the only image that is missing and the only image that will forever remain. Admitting to Mork that he likes him and accepting that he wants to be with Mork in the future are his ending and beginning. He is finally being honest about everything. 

Day wants more, not just a caretaker. Mork is now free to accept or refuse.

Of course, by this point, we would all know that Mork will accept. He will be delighted to accept. What else is there when we can so clearly see the deep bond between them? How could they ever part when they mean so much to each other? They're the only two that have remained "blind" to the inevitable.

And so we get that yes, and another kiss. Followed by the happiest smiles they've ever shown us, maybe some tears even. Day holding Mork’s face between his hands and taking in the darkness, yet feeling happy in it. He has a future with Mork. He will build a future that has them both in it.   

I don’t know if I would require much more story after that. Beyond hearing Mork’s answer to Day after finishing their journey together, I never asked for much else. It would be satisfying if done right, if it feels like both of them have found peace and purpose. They start off as troubled individuals and end up happy, content, together. 

Maybe I would be a little greedy though, and accept a time skip which shows us glimpses of MorkDay’s life after. Day is doing something new with his life that makes him feel satisfied. Mork is finally living for himself.

I wanted there to be hints about what Mork might want to do throughout the story/journey, just like they gave hints in the series that Day would love to own a bookshop later. I never quite bought Mork’s cooking career in the series – I know they paint it so that Mork enjoys cooking, especially to others/those he loves, but it never fully felt like his own choice to become a chef. It feels more like something he has to do because at first, he enters the chef position for money. He loses his job as a caretaker and has to find something else to live on. It makes it once again feel less like his own choice and more like a survival instinct.

And so, we have come to the end of my string of thoughts. This is what I had in my head about Mork and Day, how I thought the story of Last Twilight would go. This is what the pilot left me with after giving me its impeccable vibes. Would this be a better series? For me, definitely. Others might disagree, but I did not write this for you anyway so, sorry. 

Just… Last Twilight could’ve been so much, so different. And even a year later I still mourn the fact that it was not, that it will never be. Such wasted potential, but I’ll love it anyway. I’ll love the parts I've managed to salvage. 

(Thank you for reading if you did read this whole thing! Feel free to discuss this idea with me if you want to or point out any things I might remember incorrectly/have forgotten. My inbox is open and so are my dms, I won't bite ^^)

[smilesession]

I had a singularly bizarre and kaleidoscopic dream while asleep for about an hour and a half and I need to share it before I lose my memory of it. Sorry. I think this is kind of thematically interesting but it’s also horribly embarrassing and revealing of things I don’t even reveal to myself:

I go to a Papa John’s with a vague group of family and friends and I go up to the counter to put in our order. I tell the guy taking orders “I would like a large Film Pizza and a side of cheese bread.” The idea of film pizza in this dream was legible, a type of pizza, my favorite type of pizza, and a pizza order that conveyed a cultured palate. When he hands me my order, it’s clear that whoever made it was unskilled and unfamiliar with “film pizza” and it looked like shit, all the slices were pulled apart, it was just heavy tomato sauce and unmelted cheese, it was bad. And I stand up for myself and I shout at the guy, “hey I wanted a FILM PIZZA. A regular FILM PIZZA. This isn’t a FILM PIZZA. Looks like it has some kind of a film coating it, maybe!” and this was the funniest joke imaginable to me (film as in a cinematic type of pizza - film as in some kind of gross layer coating something) and I felt cool and clever. They remake my pizza

I am up at the counter and I’m wearing a jacket with band patches and pins on it and the cashier smiles at me and says “Whoaaa, I never thought I’d see a GIRL fan of FLIPPER around here…” and he and another man begin to touch me and examine my coat and praise me. My order comes out. It’s a pizza with olives and chicken on it and a separate plate of some chunks of something. I’m vaguely convinced this is not “film pizza with a side of cheese bread” but people are waiting so I bring it back to the table.

The pizza is good and the side of cheese bread turns out to be some kind of cheesecake, but I don’t want to bother with another correction so I just try it. It’s the most delicious thing imaginable, coated in white chocolate candy with soft cake inside, I start pigging out on it, it becomes a huge hot fudge sundae with chunks of this cake, me and a girl at the table begin fighting over it, I’m being selfish because I put in the work to order and buy it. We reach the bottom of the bowl and it becomes disgusting, hot fudge mixed with barbecue sauce and wet chicken meat, the immaculately delicious thing seems like it was just an illusion or a mirage I was having and I feel disgusted

After dinner I’m walking with my parents and my mother is wasted and being very physically affectionate toward my dad (in my real life I’ve never seen my parents even hug or kiss and I’ve never seen my mom drunk). They keep attempting to sneak off to be alone, I remember it’s their anniversary (in real life their anniversary is my birthday) but she’s stumbling and falling. I get worried about her and try to keep up with her and she’s getting loud and boisterous and trying to run. I say “mom are you having a manic episode?” And she says “yes!!! I’m going a mile a minute!!!!” and she runs off and is gone. I try to find her. I lose her, I try to find a way to look out over the city to find her.

I see the scrobbles man alone in a parking lot lit up under a streetlight, he is walking in circles. I don’t want to be seen. I overcome my fear of heights and climb up a tall ladder to the top of a building but there’s barbed wire at the top, I need to come down. As I try to get down the ladder, it starts to bounce back and forth. Every time it goes forward, it crashes hard against the side of the building and hurts me, and then it repels backwards; I can’t get down. I think I end up jumping down. I run through the city alone trying to get back to my room. I pass by doorways and see crowds of everyone I’ve ever known huddled in buildings looking out at me.

I get to the privacy of some kind of a dressing room that has a young male receptionist outside the door. He’s working on a computer in an open cubicle. The room I’m in is full of windows and there’s very little real privacy, I try to strategically stay behind the door so the man doesn’t see me. I need to change clothes. I have the sense that I need to change my appearance to achieve some vague goal. I start trying different variations of my outfit. I end up deciding that I need to be wearing less. I end up in a mesh top with no bra and my breasts exposed, I end up wearing a thong that shows out from a short skirt, I end up putting on boots, I end up reapplying my makeup. There is a mirror and I become aroused and excited at the sight of myself. I become aroused and excited at the thought that the man at the desk had seen me. I leave the room and I say “I hope I didn’t disturb you by changing clothes so near to you” and he says something very vulgar and essentially that he enjoyed watching me change. I think I briefly leave the room but then I return and he’s no longer there.

I begin filming a pornographic video of myself but I can’t get it right, I can’t convey what I’m seeing in my mind, I spend an hour trying to take a video. Suddenly the room is full of men, older professional men. They are working around a computer. The oldest man is near me and watching me. I start to feel horribly embarrassed and stupid but I can’t really stop what I’m doing. The men are working on some kind of occult/cryptozoological research. They are watching a documentary video they took of a beast that emerged from ancient ruins.

Then my alarm went off

[itsclydebitches]

clyde help, apparently the 'don't come back' scene from winter was supposed to be directed at RWBYJ telling them not to come back because the people they 'sacrificed their lives to save' were turning on each other and 'wasting that opportunity' so she doesn't want them to see how the people they saved were failing them and somehow that's even more dumb than when i thought it was supposed to be directed at ironwood 😭😭😭

https://twitter.com/dontyoudarryn/status/1677868440437104640

I saw the tweet (a day after I’d written up my thoughts on it being about Ironwood ofc lol) and god, idek what to do with this. On the one hand yay, I’m legitimately glad they didn’t include Ironwood just so Winter could desecrate his portion of the grave like that, with the added implication that he might come back in Volume 10. It’s a good thing the epilogue hasn’t opened that can of worms. On the other hand... literally what the fuck, Winter? That’s SUCH a crazy thing to do! I get that she’s disappointed in how people are treating one another after getting a second chance at life—even though there’s a boatload of context there like, “It’s the heroes who put them in this position in the first place” and “That position is being indefinite refugees at the end of the world. Of COURSE people are stressed and fighting each other”—but who expresses their frustration like that? At least, I always want to clarify, without the story itself calling her out on it. That’s a memorial to the fallen! Unless there are a number of different graves that we’re just not shown (doesn’t look that way) Winter is using her super special protect-the-world powers to desecrate a communal grave. She’s not even doing that out of hatred for her abusive father, or the turned-villain former boss she helped kill... she’s saying “Don’t come back” to her sister.

“But Clyde, she means it in a nice way because there’s nothing good to return to—” no. Stop. It’s just straight up weird and insulting. This message implies that Winter straight up cannot understand human nature and the peoples’ need to acclimate to their new circumstances, especially when they're still in grave danger (she wouldn’t last five minutes with Ozpin’s quest lol). It implies that she cares more about her reputation as a successful hero than her sister and her sister’s friends’ lives. If given the choice, her message is saying, “Better that you be dead than see that things aren’t perfect”—and isn’t that just a summary of everything post-Volume 5. The message implies that Winter cares more about her own selfish need to vent in a permanent, insulting way than being respectful of the, again, implied to be communal memorial.

Imagine for a moment that irl someone’s sibling died in battle, a battle that didn’t decide the war. Mere minutes after the community established a grave for everyone that died, they take a chisel to it and write “Don’t come back,” then try to play that off as a good, loving thing to do because don't you see? They'd be ashamed of us as we imperfectly struggle to survive! It's better for our loved ones to stay dead than see us lash out at one another during the most stressful moment in Remnant history!

If RWBY has any sort of self-awareness the group would arrive in Vacuo, see that message, very understandably assume it was written by an angry civilian, and Winter would be all “Uh....😬" If RWBY were even slightly better written, that message would have been put there by an angry civilian, rather than all these supposedly fallible people treating Ruby like a messiah. After all, it’s very convenient that Winter is so disgusted with their behavior she does this, but their behavior, of course, doesn’t extend to questioning whether the teenager who dropped them here after terrifying the world with a vague, manipulative message did a good job. The refugees are so ashamedly angry... but none of that anger is directed toward the huntresses that dropped them in the middle of a grimm sandstorm outside a Kingdom that hates them. So Ruby has a "Remember her message" memorial created by ignorant strangers and Weiss has her memorial desecrated by her in-the-loop sister. RWBY... you've got it backwards again...

[virtualcarrot]

[KKIR] Modern AU - Teaching Pains Pt5

Part 4

Prompt 5 : Exes/Memories

.

Iruka's bleary eyed and still half-asleep when a similarly out of it but powering through Kotetsu hooks an arm around the back of his neck.

“Sooo… You and Kakashi-sensei stayed up late together at the gym, uh.”

Iruka doesn't react. In all fairness he's too busy trying to figure whether or not he’ll capitulate to the early hour and abstain from one of the cheap donuts on the counter. On the one hand, he’s vaguely queasy. On the other hand, it’s free food, and also sugar, which should give him the necessary boost of energy to hang on until his brain gets fully online.

Before he can decide, Anko makes a grand entrance, her drill sergeant voice announcing her arrival. “All right, losers! The bake sale's ready and the Headmaster's office’s shut off from the public. Y’all ready to be productive members of society or are you gonna keep mooching off our hard work?”

With a coffee in hand and a coworker hanging off his shoulders, Iruka blinks back slowly. He barely registers Kotetsu hiding his face in his shoulder with a groan.

Ignoring them for the coat rack, Mizuki hangs his bag with a huff.

Anko meets Iruka's eyes and grins toothily. “Why, hello lover boy,” she drawls. “Have fun yesterday?”

Iruka pulls a face. “It's not like that and you know it.”

“Oh, do I?”

Faced with her too sharp eyes and growing all too aware of Mizuki's presence, he hides in his drink. “We were sparring,” he mutters into the mug.

“What was that?”

“We were sparring.”

Kotetsu releases him with a snort of laughter. “Is that what the kids call it, now?”

Sometimes, being on friendly terms with your coworkers is a curse.

“I assume most kids aren’t familiar with kumite, so I’d say: yes,” Iruka retorts curtly.

He doesn’t really like bringing up martial arts around Mizuki. There are old wounds they’ve rebuilt their friendship around that still remain tender. But he can’t let this sort of insinuation go unanswered either. It’s unprofessional, for starters, and also he could really, really do without the risk it might reach Kakashi’s ears if Iruka doesn’t nip it in the bud.

Much to his relief, Mizuki doesn’t sour at the topic. He draws closer instead, eyeing Iruka up and down the way he used to when they were kids and he was looking for injuries. “Are you alright?”

Iruka ducks his head. “Yeah, don’t worry. He went easy on me.”

He pauses, remembering his surprise of the previous evening, the warm feeling of making a pleasant, unexpected discovery.

“He’s actually really good, uh,” he adds, somewhat breathily.

Ever the realist, Mizuki gives him a little smile. “It’s more likely that you’re too out of practice,” he says gently, which Iruka can’t really dispute. “But it’s good that you had fun.”

Then, because they’re not actually paid to gossip, they all leave the teachers’ lounge and go open the school to the public. Mizuki falls into step with him while he goes to round the last arrived volunteer students--for a value of volunteer where Iruka just ended up conscripting additional kids until they had enough people.

That Naruto didn't put up more of a fight feels like an admirable growth of his character, truthfully.

“You should be careful,” Mizuki says, breaking the companionable silence.

In the process of a mental review of the performances and workshops they've got planned for the next day, Iruka has trouble following the non sequitur.

“What?”

“Kakashi-sensei. You had a tense relationship, and he's been mellowing to you--which is great. But it wouldn't do for people to think it's in return for… services. Or that you'd compromise your students for that.” At Iruka's stricken look, he waves a hand in the air with a rueful smile. “Don’t worry, I don't think that. But you know how tongues wag.”

Which is of course the moment Iruka’s phone chooses to chime with a new text. Any cheer he might have derived from Kakashi asking about his morning freezes over. He hastily shoves his phone back into his pocket. Mizuki gives him a pointed, knowing look but is kind enough not to comment.

Thankfully, Iruka doesn't have time to ruminate. Visitors may be slow on the first hours of open day but that's all the better to ready them for the later inpouring. Future students, their parents and concerned family members number that crowd, along with the visiting families of their current ones; the true bulk of it, though, are the random bystanders excited for the free spectacle Ebisu sets up with the kids every year. If only for Sasuke, Lee, Tenten and Neji’s feats of gymnastics and martial arts, the trip is worth it.

By the time the rush fully starts, Iruka has already broken two fights between Ino and Sakura, yelled Shikamaru awake from a nap, reminded Chōji that the cakes from the bake sale are for sale, and stepped in to support Hinata before she passed out at the prospect of talking to a group of total strangers asking for her opinion on the school curriculum.

After which lunch-time arrives.

He distributes the complimentary sandwiches the school provides their little volunteers--but not the teachers--and then takes a very hypocritically cake-filled break in guise of a meal. It's more sugar than he enjoys, but he didn't have time to cook the evening before and knows from experience that the local shops will be crowded from their own visitors looking for something to eat.

Somewhere past two in the afternoon, Kakashi shows up with takeout coffee from Iruka's favorite place. Iruka's never resented someone more for making him like them.

“Isn’t today a university day?” he asks, washing the lingering sweetness from his mouth with a blessedly dark roast.

It's a bit rude, by way of greetings, but Kakashi doesn't take offense. If anything, his eye curves in that congenial arch like Iruka's just the most entertaining thing he's been given to see.

“Had two free hours ahead, thought I'd check how it's going,” he replies, with the sort of nonchalance that tells Iruka those hours were probably not supposed to be nearly this idle.

“Office hours?” he can't help but ask, trying to ignore Suzume adjusting her glasses at them a few classrooms over.

Unperturbed, Kakashi chuckles. “Office hours,” he confirms with an expectant smirk.

But Iruka doesn't segue into his usual rant about responsibility and student needs. Leading a group of wide eyed pre-teens and their flustered parents across the hallway, Kotetsu's just sent a thumbs up behind his back and with it, made his spine freeze.

He doesn’t have time to linger anyway. The gymnastics performance is drawing near, which means it’s almost time to begin corralling the interested visitors towards the gymnasium that a not insignificant proportion of them won’t fail to miss, and that’s in spite of Izumo’s indications on the PA system and the many printed signs they’ve tacked all over the school in preparation.

To top it all, Iruka hasn't seen Naruto in a while which never bodes well.

He heaves a sigh at the thought. “Sorry, Kakashi-sensei, I’ve got to get back to it. Really appreciate the coffee, though.”

Kakashi takes one look at the milling visitors and nods. “Sure. Don’t let me keep you. And good luck.”

It takes all of Iruka’s willpower not to smile in thanks, lest he look too familiar, though he doesn’t get long to brood over it. He’s barely walked past one classroom that he's caught by a family of four asking about the facilities and the disciplines taught and whether there’s a waiting list they might sign on to make sure their daughter of six years old gets in when she’s of age. He wants to sympathize with wanting to do good by one’s child, but his experience teaching the kids of such parents, pressured towards performance like the adults around them think they’re coal they might compress into diamonds, makes him deeply skeptical. And anyway, there’s no such thing as a waiting list, which he tells them, before directing them to a few booklets in the library and drafting Sakura to lead them there and answer any further questions.

Finally free, he slips away.

The good thing about having been a troublemaker in this very school, is that Iruka’s well versed in its real estate of hiding places. The downside is, he’s grown complacent in updating that knowledge.

By the time he’s about to give up and rejoin the event, Iruka’s no closer to finding Naruto. At this point, he has half a thought that Naruto should hope he doesn’t find him, because he won’t make any promises as to the kid’s life expectancy once Iruka gets his hands on him.

Fate must really be conspiring against Naruto, then, because Iruka’s doing his last check in the remote corridor leading to the Headmaster’s office when he catches sight of a blue and orange sleeve hiding behind a cabinet with pictures and diplomas of former headmasters.

He sneaks closer for greater impact when he yells.

“Naruto!”

The resulting screech of horror is deafening.

Sitting on the floor with one hand clutched to his heart and his bag at his feet, Naruto laughs nervously. “Aaah, Iruka-sensei, you found me,” he says, rubbing the back of his head.

Iruka gives him the sort of even look that Naruto should know means this situation can go either way, and it’s all up to him.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

Naruto looks away with the jitters of someone readying a lie, and a bad one at that. Iruka crosses his arms sternly to dissuade him.

It’s enough that Naruto slumps, sullen, and draws his knees to his chest. “It’s just… There are a lot of people.”

“Ah?”

“Lots of… families…”

“Ah.”

Iruka steps around him and the cabinet, and slides down the wall until he meets Naruto on the floor.

“Can’t be easy,” he says casually, looking at the faded paint of the wall across.

“It’s fine,” Naruto mutters to his knees.

Iruka nudges his shoulder and doesn’t say anything. He remembers when he lost his parents, how it was to be young and alone and counting only on himself. Sometimes, a mere presence was enough to help. That, and warm food, which is his usual approach, but he doesn’t have any to offer Naruto at the moment. He makes a note to take him out for ramen sometime soon.

On the loudspeakers, Izumo informs them that the first performance of the afternoon will start in five minutes.

“Hey, Iruka-sensei?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think I’ll pass this grade?”

Truthfully, the question is one Iruka has been pondering himself. While Kakashi’s tutoring has noticeably improved Naruto’s grades in physics and chemistry, and given him confidence to tackle the other disciplines he had given up on, he still has a long way to go.

Iruka sighs. “I don’t know, Naruto,” he answers honestly.

Naruto hugs his legs tighter. “I’m not stupid, you know? It’s just difficult. But I’m really trying my hardest.”

“I’ve never doubted that,” Iruka says, because it’s true. He’s watched Naruto sit hours long in front of his textbooks, hair in even greater disarray than usual as he pulled it every which way in frustration. Truthfully, Iruka sometimes suspects part of his learning difficulties might be closer to disabilities, but he’s been having trouble communicating it to the head of the orphanage, who’s a bit too convinced that Naruto’s just acting out in a bid for attention--which he is--and would by extension benefit from being ignored so as not to reward his behavior--which he doesn’t.

Daikoku isn’t a bad man, but if anything Naruto’s been a harsh lesson to Iruka on the limits of his good intentions.

“I don’t want to repeat the year,” Naruto admits in a small voice.

And Iruka gets why. Kakashi’s guidance isn’t the only reason worth crediting for Naruto’s improvement these last months. Working in a smaller group, out of the more merciless dynamic of a full classroom, has finally given him an opportunity to bond with his classmates. He has friends now. And a rival. Which is kind of a friend, Iruka thinks.

He ruffles Naruto’s hair affectionately.

“Then let’s keep working hard to make sure you don’t, eh?” he says. “Come on, let’s go. Ebisu-sensei’s going to lose his mind if he’s missing one of his stars when the show starts.”

Naruto seems only slightly mollified, but that’s to be expected. Some things take time.

He does get up after Iruka, who counts it as a small victory.

~

Part 6

@kakairu-rocks (I'll finish the fic past the official allotted time of the event but at least these fills will have been posted on time)

[amber-gimlet]

I have not read Babel or chapter 14 this was done off of pure vibes and vague osmosis’d spoilers. I wrote this on my phone in 30 minutes with zero editing, and the only thing I referenced was Utage’s oprecord.

——————

Civilight-Eterna drifted through the hustling halls of Rhodes Island, and tried not to feel too upset about it.

She knew. She knew.

It wasn’t their fault anymore than it was hers. She from these inherited memories of who people wanted her to be just how hard this would be. Even failing that, could feel it by nature of what she was.

So she tried not to feel upset about it. Or bitter. The discomfort was non-negotiable, but that was fine, right? Right?

She was not very good at this.

She had almost called herself Theresa in her own head three times and that just wouldn’t do. Some Rhodes Operators recognized her, particularly ones she recognized in turn. Those from the Babel days, or those who simply Knew. Others, however, simply looked at her in mild curiosity, wondering who this unfamiliar face in Rhodes Island was.

Those she could work with. Maybe. She was drifting with a purpose in mind, after all.

It took about an hour of aimless wandering to find someone who looked like they might fit her criteria. A girl wearing a bulky white jacket, with painted nails.

Civilight Eterna wasn’t going to find a better option. She would have to strike quickly and decisively.

“Um! Excuse me?”

“Hm?” The Operator stops, looking back, then fully turning around. No recognition in her eyes. Good.

Civilight Eterna came up alongside her, gesturing for the two of them to keep walking. “Pardon me for bothering you, ah…?”

“Utage. And I don’t mind, what’s up?”

Success! “Right, Utage… I need some help with something, and I believe you might be able to do it.” She pauses for dramatic effect, before continuing. “It is a matter of fashion. I am hoping to…” Oh, what was the phrase for this? Fortunately, Utage seemed to understand.

“You want to change you look?” Civilight Eterna nods rapidly. “Yes! That.”

“Well you’ve come to the right gal. How far did you want to go with it though?”

“All the way.” She says firmly. “I bear an unfortunate resemblance that I am tired of being mistaken for, even by people who know better. I would like to find my own ‘look’.”

Utage nods sagely, in a way that bore a slightly funny resemblance to the Doctor. “Gotcha, gotcha. Well, the easiest place to start would be the clothes, but I’d need to find some in your size. I have some people I can touch base with but for now, how do you feel about trying a new hairstyle?”

Civilight Eterna takes a moment to think. That… would work, right? It sounded fun, actually. She nods enthusiastically. “I believe I would like that very much.”

“Nice. Let’s go see if Susie had any openings on short notice.” Utage sets off and Civilight Eterna follows, feeling a rising giddiness she hadn’t since… well, since the beginning of her true existence.

Things were going to change!

[iamsherlocked1479]

Chapter Fifteen

“Are the jumpers really necessary?” You sulk as your aunt readjusts you position for the 5th time 

“Of course they are, it's a Christmas card matching jumpers are essential dear.” She grabs your cheek and pulls it playfully before setting the timer on the camera, again. “Big smiles.” She said through gritted teeth. You sigh and plaster a fake smile to your face trying not to blink as the camera's flash burns a hole through your retinas.

“And who are these for again?” You rub your eyes, trying to get the light from your eyes

“Your great half aunt and her family.” She smiled as she checked the camera again. “Perfect.” She let out a sigh of relief. 

“I’ve never even met these people. Why does it matter?” You say itching your collar

“Because I won’t be around forever, and it’s always important to have a family. And you have met them.” She smiled

“When?” You asked and her brows raised “oh, the funeral.” You vaguely remember your parent’s funeral, you were fairly young and all you could remember was trying to block out people explaining a car crash to you for the fifteen millionth time that day. It wasn’t exactly up there for the best Christmas, yet again any Christmas after that never really felt the same. You went quiet for a moment and your aunt gave you a half hug.

“I know you don’t always enjoy this time of year but it's different now, new faces, new memories to be made.” You hugged her back and left her to her work. You could hear voices complaining from your sitting room. 

“A devilish time of year brother, far more children on the streets .” Ugh, it's Mycroft, he wasn’t exactly on your guest list for the perfect Christmas.

“I agree brother, but it's not all that bad.” Sherlock's voice replied

“Don’t start with all that.” Mycroft huffs

“Jealous?” Sherlock is quick to reply.

“How could he be? Women aren’t exactly his thing.” You enter with a half smile towards Mycroft, he huffed and twirled his umbrella around.

“Is patronising me also part of this arrangement?” He chewed the inside of his cheek hoping his knowledge of whatever was going on between you and Sherlock would bring some form of annoyance to you.

“Don’t try to intimidate her brother.” Sherlock interrupted 

“It's fine he’s a smart boy, if anyone was going to figure it out it would be him.” You patted his cheek playfully and he huffed

“Yet I can’t figure out why you’re still wearing that.” He replied, you looked confused at first but then realised when you looked down at the hideous ball of wool wrapped around your body. “And with that I shall take my leave, goodbye brother. And think about it” He said, closing the door behind him, not even waiting for sherlocks reply. You huffed and pulled the jumper over your head revealing a tight tank top.

“Shame, I was hoping there’d be nothing under that.” Sherlock querked. 

“Well it's not christmas just yet.” You smiled and pulled a box from under the table and brushed it off. “This Christmas will be different, I hope so anyway i'm due some good luck at some point this year.” You pulled out various coloured tinsel and lights from the box and began looking for places to put them around the apartment.

“If it were me, I’d consider not dying after being kidnaped by a psycho maniac a win but that's just my daily routine.” He moved to the sofa and slumped onto it, staring at the ceiling.

“He was never going to kill me sherlock.” You sigh decorating the windows with tinsel.

“What do you mean?” He lifted his head in your direction.

“What I mean is he was using me to mess with you, plus I think he liked me.” You laugh

“I doubt it, a man like that doesn’t have the capacity.” He laid back down as you walked over, gold tinsel in hand.

“Please, everyone has something they want, plus i never thought you had the capacity.” You cleared your throat “excuse me i need to stand on here to put this up.” you nudge his waist with your knee and he doesn’t budge. You sigh and pull yourself onto the couch, with your legs parted and Sherlock lying between them as you hang the tinsel up.

“I’m not a fan of this new position.” sherlock huffed

“Then you should have moved.” you smiled looking down at him

“Though it has its pleasant views, but” he pulled your leg down so you straddled his waist. “This i much more prefer.” He smiled and began raking kisses down your neck, you hummed as he lifted your arms and pulled your shirt over your head discarding it somewhere in the room, his lips grazed over the top of your nipples and you moaned rocking into his half hard crotch. He looked down and helped you undo his belt 

“Wait, wait. Hang on. Aunt Martha are you there?” You shut down, there was no answer “she must have gone out.” You pulled off your shorts and felt his tip pressing against your soaked core.

“That's all it takes to get you soaked huh?” He spoke into your ear as you positioned yourself on top of him, sinking down slowly. You began to rock and he assisted by begging to slowly thrust into you. “Good girl, just like that. Fuck love the way you tighten around me.” He groaned and you bounced in front of him. His hands snaked up your body and and pulled your bra down to watch your tits bounce pawing at them with his dexterous fingers.

“Fuck sherlock, feels so good.” Your voice breaks as his cock reaches your g-spot hitting it again and again. Your orgasm began building slowly, burning its way through your nervous system. His hands began to focus on your swollen neglected clits as he twirled his fingers around it.

“Fuck- i’m going to cum shit, want you to cum too.” He sat up pulling you in closer to him, sliding you up and down his thick cock. He pulsed into you scraping along your walls allowing your body to release under him. Your body seized and trembled as he pounded into you, his knuckles whitened as he gripped your waist spilling his white ropes spewed into you. 

“I’m supposed to be putting up decorations.” You sigh laughing as he flopped back down, watching the way his chest rises and falls.

“I prefer this.” He gasped 

“Y/n? You home?” Louise shouted from downstairs.

“Uh, yup, wait there just a minute.” You shouted down, stumbling off Sherlock, you fell to the ground sending a large bang down the halls.

“Everything okay up there?” Louise laughed 

“Yep!” You shout down, you look at Sherlock who had tucked himself away, still laying on the couch. “Underwear?”

“Uhh, I don’t know?” He replied, you rolled your eyes and ran up to your room, quickly changing into some more suitable clothes. You didn’t forget you were meant to be going Christmas shopping, you simply just lost track of time. You hurried down the stairs, and grabbed your coat and brushed yourself off.

“So is Sherlock up there?” She asks suspiciously 

“Erm, No?” You lie

“So you were just talking to yourself?” She inquired, tilting her head

“Well-“

“I know you slept with him, it's not a big secret.” She laughed as you followed her out the door

“Try not to say it out loud.” You snap back

“Why not? You’re a terrible liar” she said getting into the car.

“I know, I just can’t be bothered to deal with the look we’ll get when they realise Sherlock is in a relationship.” You sigh.

“Fair point, where too first?” She asked. 

You spent most of the day gossiping and buying your friends gifts. Most people were easy to buy for and with John and Mary having a baby soon it was pretty obvious what to get them, it's not like alcohol was on the table. You eventually found yourself in a small cafe stopping off to get a hit drink to relieve yourself from the December air.

“Who's that for?” You point to the leather jacket in one of Louise's bags. 

“Oh you know, for a guy.” She says quietly “well, my boyfriend i should say, it's been official for a couple weeks now.”

“Oooohh” you say playfully “And why haven’t i heard about this mysterious man?” You stir your coffee.

“Well, he’s a bit, well shy really and im not one to boast about relationships.” She exclaimed 

“Sure you’re not.” One of your brows raised “is he shy or not much of a lucker. Do i know him?” You question her and she blushes.

“No he’s not ugly, and you probably do know him and ouch I don’t show off relationships.” She says with a slightly raised voice.

“Okay, okay” you hold up your hands “im sorry, so what do you mean, i probably know him?” 

“Well you know, he travels alot.” She shrugs

“Mhm” your eyes narrow “anything else you can give me?”

“Uh no not really” she laughs again nervously “But anyways, what are you going to get Sherlock for Christmas?”

“Am i supposed to get him something?” You ask talking through your drink

“Well you’re dating right?” She tilts her head

“No why would-

“”I heard you both this morning.” She says bluntly

“Right, well I don’t know, we erm i don't think he likes Christmas.” You arrange the sugar packets in front of you. Where would you even start with getting him a gift? He’d probably guess what it was anyway.

“Well does he need anything? Soap? Manners.”

“Oh come on” you roll your eyes “uhh well, he needs a scarf. The last one ended up covered in blood.” You say casually as she looks at you with an obvious reaction

“You know what I'm not even going to ask.” She looked away and her phone began to buzz. You look at the screen as she picks it up and see the letter T with a heart next to it. 

Who could that be? You wonder, you try your best not to listen in but you hear something about having left something or a dog needing to be taken care of.

“Who’s that?” You asks as she puts down the phone

“Just the guy.” She smiles packing up her things.

“The guy?” You say one brow raised “why so secretive?”  

“Well its a new thing you know.” 

“Riiight. You’re not supposed to be with him are you?” You guess

“What? No I um, I have to go.” She rushes out of the cafe leaving you shouting questions behind her

“Is he married?!” You laugh. She was right though , you couldn’t not get Sherlock a present, maybe nobody would think it was strange if you got him a scarf. You wonder the streets heading back towards the apartment and come across a small taylors with suits, hats and scarfs in the window. The bell rings as you enter the store and a kind woman appears from behind the counter. 

“Good afternoon, can I help you?” She smiles 

“I was wondering if could buy a scarf, particularly that blue one in the window?.” You point to a blue scarf similar to the design of his old one.

“Of course thats just a display one but i can have one made for you?” She asks

“Sure.” You smile handing her the money labelled on the price tag 

“Would you like and messages embroidered into the end? They’re not very obvious so it could be anything.” She says with the same warm smile she greeted you.

You thought for a moment, it would make it a but more intimate and if he didn’t like it, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. 

“Sure why not.” 

You left the store clutching your prize close to you all the way home, by the time you were outside the door a familiar car was parked outside with the same woman who always gave you dirty looks. Like Sherlock's brother, she obviously didn’t think kindly of you and if she was outside then Mycroft was here again. You good mood was interrupted by the sounds of arguing, you sighed ignoring the comotion and hid all the gifts in your room.

“Y/n come down.” Mycroft's irritating voice echoed from downstairs “this instant” he demanded. You huffed and came down to find sherlock frantically pacing

“What's up with him?”  You ask as sherlock mutters something and crashes onto his arm chair

“You let him get high again didn’t you.” Mycroft points his umbrella at you

“What?! No I didn’t im clean what the hell is wrong with you?” 

“No, I won’t stand for whatever this is between you, you’re bad news.” He snipes walking towards you, trying his best to intimidate you.

“Stop it isn’t her fault.” Sherlock stood up standing in between you and Mycroft.

“I beg to differ brother, she has.” He pauses and makes eye contact with you “irrational tendencies, just look how her mother turned out.” Your eyes narrowed as you stepped forward being blocked by sherlock. Mycroft grinned at the sight of your anger. “Now Sherlock answers my question.”

“Ermm what was I going to say? Ah yes bye bye.” Sherlock moved to the door and opened it gesturing for his brother to leave. Mycroft moved in front of him, trying to intimidate his younger brother

“Unwise brother-mine.” Sherlock grabbed Mycroft by the wrist and pushed him to the door frame causing him to yelp in pain.

“Brother-mine” he said into his ear “Don’t appal me when i'm high.” Sherlock hissed and tightened his grip on his older brother. You smiled as you stepped closer to Mycroft

“I’m going to say to say this as i’ll say as an acquaintance, leave and if you think  it was me, i suggest you find evidence first.” You encouraged him, Sherlock let him go and he left the apartment only missing some of his ego. 

“Well now that thats over.” Sherlock sighed and went to sit in his chair.

“Oh no its not.” You grabbed the back of his collar and spun him round gripping the gap in his shirt. “Im not sure how i feel about this.” He says 

“Where is it come on” you demand 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” He lies

“The heroin Sherlock, where is it?” You to e darkens and his brow raises.

“Fine, over there.” He looks over to the skull on the fire place. You walk over and take a vile out from the skull. “You know how difficult it is to drill into a human skull without it shattering?” He watches as you move into the kitchen. You take the vile and place it in the sink, you cover it with a tea towel and smash it. You lift the tower up and rinse away the liquid.

“There now your brother can’t accuse me.” You turn to Sherlock who now looks defeated.

“I do apologise for my dear old brother’s behaviour.” He moved to you spinning you around to face him. His lips pressed against yours desperately, almost apologetically. “Can i show you how sorry i am?” He said kissing down your neck.

“I like the sound of that.” You hummed as he dropped to his knees, that was a sight. Sherlock holmes, on his knees for you. He pulled down your trousers and underwear in one swift moment he kissed your clit and slid his tongue through your folds. A moan escaped your throat and your hand made its way through his thick curl’s pushing his face closer into you. He hummed in delight at your taste he spread your legs further apart and began using his tounge to fuck you while his fingers played with your clit. “Fuck, thats good” you say leaning on the counter top.

“Don't get used to me being on my knees sweetheart. It’ll be your turn soon.” He looked licking his lips before returning for another taste. He lifter one of your legs over his shoulder allowing him to penetrate you even deeper with his tongue. Your clit swelled with over stimulation, it sent a signal that burned its way through your nervous system causing your legs to buck and you to cry out his name mixed with various curse words. Sherlock got up, straightening out his creased shirt and fixing his ruffled hair, for a moment you forgot how much taller than you he was. He wiped a strand of hair that stuck to your forehead and lifted your face with one finger pushing up your chin. “Let's have some fun.” He held out his hand and you took it gladly. He lead you out the kitchen towards his room. You had never been in his room before, it surprised you as being fairly normal, the blue walls matched his bedding the only real evidence this was sherlock's rooms was the poster of the periodic table and skeleton that was more than likely real human bone.

He flopped onto his bed pulling you on top of him, you could feel his hardness pressing against your core begging to be released, you began to grind yourself against him as you helped unbutton his shirt. He removed your top and bottoms with ease as you undid his belt. You waisted no time sliding down onto him groaning with pleasure as he filled you up. 

“You’re beginning to take me so well sweetheart.” He said swiftly rutting his hips upwards, it sent a sharp sensation of pleasure into you, you rocked yourself on him bouncing up and down as the sound of your thighs slapping him added to the smell of sex that flooded the room. His hands were gripped firmly on your ass as he bounced you up and down, he kneaded the fat gripping hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. His pelvis pushed into your clit lighting the fuse leading you to your orgasm.

He bucked his hips hard enough for him to gather the strength to be able to flip you over. You laid face down on the mattress as he parted your legs and lifted your hips. He took a moment to slide his hands through your slick, gathering some of your arousal and jerking himself with it.

“Wanna see that cunt dripping with my cum.” He said rutting into you, he slipped back where he belonged. It felt so good, the feeling of him pushing his weight down onto you, holding you in place, helping you to reach your climax. And oh you were so close, he knew this and one of his hands slipped under your stomach and began to play with your clit, that did it, the mattress did its best trying to muffle your moans

“Fu- sherlock, i- shit so goddamn good.” You cried 

“Thats it good girl, fuck squeezing around me. So perfect wanna fill you up.” His thrust became more frantic as he chased his own orgasm, he kept muttering something to himself you couldn’t understand. He groaned as you felt the heat of his thick white ropes shooting into you, he pushed them In further with one final thrust he pulled out to admire his work. 

You were a mess, face down panting with his seed dripping from you. He took his hand through your folds one more time smiling as you winced at the over stimulation of him pushing his cum back into you.

“I like this image, I'll have to delete something to remember it.”

“Well it won’t be the solar system for sure, might wanna make room for that.” You laughed to yourself as you turned back onto your back.

“Don’t get smart now honey, or i’ll have you tied to that bed next time.” He moves to one of his drawers and pulls out a pair of boxers and a shirt. It was the purple one you loved so much, the one that squeezed his arms just right. “Here.” He tosses it to you and disappears to the bathroom. Your nose was filled with his scent, you were covered in it, his shirt, his pillows and his sheets. And you lied there with his cum still dripping from you. He returned wearing the boxers and a warm washcloth, he used it to wipe your entrance smiling at the way you still moaned even with this touch. You put on his shirt leaving the top two buttons undone and laid next to him. 

He wasn’t one for showing physical affection, so you settled with the fact he laid his arm around your shoulder and trailed his finger along your neckline. 

“Sherlock?” You asked

“Mm?” He said with his eyes closed 

“What was Mycroft doing here earlier this morning?” You asked, his hand paused and his eyes opened 

“My brother dearest was offering me a case, i'm still unsure about taking it.” He says looking down at you.

“Why?” You ask, if it was worth his time, he’d do it.

“Don’t worry about it.” He turned his head facing the ceiling and just stared

“Okay then, but it will be good for you to do a case, i say take it.” You plant a kiss on his cheek but he doesn’t react. You gently lay your head down and fall asleep. Sherlock looks down at you and sighs. A small smile dawns his face for a second, but then it fades

“I don’t think you’re going to like this case.” He says to himself “you’re going to hate me.”

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OH MY GOD I'M SO SORRY HSAVEN'T BEEN POSTING, my life has been so busy and this has been sittng in my drafts for two weeks at least honestly but yeah the chapter is gonna be rough and definately out soon so leave a like if you enjoyed and a reblog is always apreciated (but totally your descson). another thing is if anybody would like me to do a request I'd be more than happy too <3

[xxrainshadowsxx]

Interpersonal Chapter 16

So... what do you do when you learn your boyfriend has been committing eco-terrorism?

You’re not sure how long you cry for. Time does not exist. At some point, you think Aurora asks if you want to go to the hospital to see him one last time, but you vehemently reject that idea. You don’t want your last memory of him to be of him in a coma.

Onceler’s there for you the entire time, never saying anything, never leaving, just being present and holding you together, both figuratively and literally. The only time he leaves your side is to grab you a glass of water once you cried yourself hoarse. You can’t fathom how you could have ever gotten through this without him.

And after the worst of it was all over, all you knew is that you were exhausted. Instead of leaving you to sleep on your own, he still stayed with you in case you needed him; he let you lay down on his chest, the steady cadence of his heartbeat rocking you into a blissful state of unawareness….

“How is she?” You vaguely register Aurora’s voice an indeterminate amount of time later, but you’re in no mood to acknowledge her or even lift your head; you’re far too comfortable and you’d much rather go back to sleep. But Onceler answers her, and the slight vibrations under your head means that more sleep isn’t going to happen just yet.

“I mean… she wasn’t okay. But I think she will be,” he murmurs, stroking your hair. “I’m just doing my best to help her get through this, but I don’t know how good of a job I’m doing. I don’t have any experience grieving a family member.”

“I think you’re helping her more than you know,” Aurora tells him. “And you’re very lucky that you haven’t had anyone in your family who’s died yet. It fucking sucks.”

“Well that would mean I’d have to have family I cared about in the first place,” he mutters. “That used to bother me a lot, but then I met her. We’ve made a family together, and that’s the only one I need.” He says all this without a hint of embarrassment. He’s completely confident in what he feels for you.

“You really love her.” She doesn’t phrase it like a question, but he answers it like one anyway.

“Yeah. I do. She’s changed my whole life. At this point, I can’t imagine my life without her in it.” His arms tighten around you ever so slightly, and it’s all you can do to pretend you’re still asleep.

“Can I ask you something? And I need you to answer me honestly.” Oh fuck. She’s going to ask him the same thing she asked you at the hospital. And you absolutely have to hear his answer.

You assume he nods, because Aurora continues speaking. “Do you want to marry her?”

“Yes.” There’s not even a moment of hesitation. You let out the tiniest of squeaks that you pray to whoever’s listening that they didn’t hear. They continue like they don’t. “I want to spend the rest of my life with her. And I’m the luckiest man alive that I think she feels the same way.”

“Well good. She might not admit it, but I know she wants to get married. And I know you asked Dad for permission. I stalled as long as I could in the hall for you.” You can’t see her, but you can still hear the grin on her face.

“Er… yeah, I did,” he laughs nervously. “I was afraid I wouldn’t get it since he didn’t know me, but he said it was mine as long as I loved her, and I definitely do.”

“Well I know she loves you, and she’s never fallen in love with anyone before. And even more of a miracle, you got me to like you. Don’t fuck it up. She deserves all the love in the world and then some.”

“I don’t plan on ever leaving her. I want to give her the world,” he whispers, running his fingers through your hair again. You hear Aurora leave as you try and process what you just heard.

He really did get your dad’s permission.

He… he wants to marry you!

And now you were going to have to pretend like you didn’t know anything. It was going to be utter agony.

But it was going to be so worth it on the other side. Because now, after hearing it from him, you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that you also wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. In a strange way, you’ve always known. Ever since he’d come into your life, you couldn’t fathom your world without him in it.

You’re only able to feign sleep for about twenty or so more minutes when you can’t take it anymore. You pretend to stir, pushing yourself off of Onceler’s chest. Smiling doesn’t exactly come naturally to you at the moment, but you manage to give him a small one before snaking your arms around him.

“Thank you… for everything,” you murmur. “I don’t know what I would do without you.” He doesn’t know it, but you mean it in so many more ways than just him helping you cope with your father’s death.

“Of course love,” he says, kissing the top of your head. “Anything you need, I’ll be here for you. God knows you’ve helped me more than enough. Do you want something to eat? Water?”

“I’m okay,” you decide for now. “Honestly, I just want to get out of this bed and stretch my legs.” He releases his hold on you, and you make your way out to the small living room where Aurora is folding laundry.

“Hey,” she says with a little smile. She walks over and pulls you into a tight hug. “I know you were awake,” she whispers. “So if you had any doubts left about him, hope I just killed them.” She pulls away, giving no hint about the bomb she just dropped, while you can only pray your own face isn’t bright crimson.

You sit on the couch and try to focus on the TV instead, but get another shock when you see yourself on it. Aurora’s put on some sort of celebrity gossip show, albeit on mute, and they’ve clearly started talking about you and Onceler from his party (how was that only two days ago?). 

You lunge for the remote to unmute it, but another hand grabs it before you can. You look up and see that it’s him. “They don’t matter,” he reminds you before turning the thing off.

“There was something I wanted to talk to you about anyway,” Aurora interjects. “How long can you stay for?”

“I got a week off,” you say absentmindedly, still eyeing the TV maliciously. You’d emailed your work on the flight here, and they’d thankfully been very understanding of your situation.

“Okay, good. That should give us enough time to get together Dad’s funeral, and then you can fly home after that… I assume? I don’t know how the fuck private jets work. I’m still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that you’re rich as fuck now,” she muses.

“Oh no. I’m not rich. He’s rich. There’s a difference,” you emphasize. You had no claim to a cent he made unless he did marry you and you decided to combine finances. There was a lot to talk about if he did end up popping the question soon–he’d probably want a prenup, how big of a spectacle did you want to make this, and of course, you couldn’t avoid talking about kids forever.

But one step at a time. No matter what you heard, this was his decision to make, and when to make it. But you just rest easy knowing that it would come in time. And you would say yes when it did.

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

A couple weeks after you got back, you were still processing how different your life was. While your daily life hadn’t changed much, there was still the psychological difference of knowing both of your parents were gone.

You were also reeling from the madhouse that had been your dad’s funeral, which Onceler was still apologizing for, even though it hadn’t been his fault at all. Your hometown was small, as he’d learned, and because of that everyone knew you. And due to him being an internationally known celebrity, everybody was also aware that you were dating him. Aurora had foreseen danger and had asked for no pictures at the funeral.

Someone hadn’t listened. They had taken a picture of the two of you coming in, posted it on social media, and by time you tried to leave a few hours later, there were paparazzi swarmed outside, clearly not caring that it might be a sensitive time for you.

And as if unannounced, unexpected journalists weren’t bad enough, one of them had sneezed, nearly directly in your face. It hadn’t hit you, but it was close enough to catch whatever he had, so you’d come home with a nasty bacterial infection. Thankfully, your doctor had given you medication that had cleared it up almost right away. You’d been feeling fine for days now, and had taken your last antibiotic that morning.

You’re making your way to Onceler’s office for lunch as you usually do. It was gray outside, an omnipresent color in the sky since you’d gotten back to Thneedville. The air itself seemed bad, too, but you didn’t know what that could be. The city probably just needed a good rainshower.

As you step into the building, almost immediately you can tell something is wrong. There’s no one around. It’s as silent as a graveyard. He hadn’t answered your texts that morning, but that was normal. You’d assumed he was just busy. This silence, this emptiness… this definitely isn’t normal.

You take off at a run in the direction of his office, your footsteps echoing loudly. You have an awful feeling in the pit of your stomach. If something happened to him…

As you turn the corner, you see his new PA stepping out into the hall, looking confused and a little disturbed. “What happened? Why isn’t anyone here? Is he okay?” you fire off, making him look more disturbed than ever.

“Um… I-I really don’t know,” he stammers. “He was his usual self most of the morning, and then like half an hour ago he started going around yelling at everyone to go home. He’s been talking to himself, looking stressed… no one knows what’s going on. He’s still in there.”

You don’t need to hear anymore. Something had happened, and you needed to find out what that something was immediately. You push open the now familiar oak doors, eyes searching him out.

He’s at the very back of his office, turned away from you. He seems to be arguing with someone just outside the door that’s back there, but you can’t see who it is, nor can you make out any individual words. “Baby? Are you okay?” you call.

He spins around towards you, his face stark white. Apparently, he hadn’t heard you come in, and didn’t realize what time it was. There’s a gruff voice you don’t recognize coming from outside calling for his attention, but he slams the door on them unceremoniously. “What are you doing here?” he yells, his tone harsh and unfamiliar.

You take a step back. He’s never used that tone with you before, and you don’t like it at all. “Excuse me?” you ask, your own voice low and dangerous. You’ll give him exactly one chance to fix his mistake.

At least he does seem to realize he fucked up. “I… uh…” He’s floundering for words like you’ve never seen before. “Why are you here? You shouldn’t be here!” he ends up spouting out, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“That was the wrong fucking answer,” you accuse. “You absolutely do not get to speak to me like that. What the hell is going on?”

“Nothing,” he says way too quickly and with a faker smile than you’d ever seen before. It’s like he wasn’t even trying to be convincing, and you don’t buy it for a second.

“There’s no one here, you were clearly arguing with someone outside, and your PA said this only started about half an hour ago. I’m not an idiot, Oncie, I know something had to have happened.” He flinches at the use of your pet name for him, and you notice that all of the sudden he looks terrified. You walk up to him and take his hands, trying a different approach now. “Baby, please tell me. Maybe I can help you,” you implore.

He says nothing, but grips your hands so tightly that it’s almost painful. You just wait. If it’s a contest of patience, you’re determined to win.

The phone shrieks, breaking both of you of your concentration. He looks at you for a moment, then lunges for it, but for once, you’re quicker than him. “Yes?” you say as you answer it.

“You’re there?” One of his lawyers is on the other end, sounding like they’re suffering from a cold sweat instead of being cool and confident. “You need to get out of there now. For your own safety. The forests–” The line suddenly goes dead, and you look around in bewilderment.

You find him standing right next to you, the phone cord in his hand. He’s unplugged it. Whatever had happened, he didn’t want you to know. Dread begins to fill you.

“What happened with the forests?” you whisper, though you’re not sure you want an answer. His eyes go wide, both with fear and anger, but he stays stubbornly silent. “What happened to the forests?” you shout, nearly at the point of hysteria.

Your eyes wander behind his desk, where the curtain is covering the window that shows the forests. A horrifying realization suddenly hits you. He’d closed that curtain right when you’d started dating him. You’d never seen it open since. Which meant this had been in the works for months now. The length of your entire relationship, at the very least.

You dash over to the curtain, but before you make it, his arm is around your waist, preventing you from getting any farther. You whip your head around to look him dead in the face. “Don’t you dare touch me,” you hiss. He drops his arm slowly, and behind his eyes you can see the gravity of the terrible wound you’ve just inflicted upon him. But you have to know.

You make your way to the curtains, unhindered now, and throw them open.

You almost can't believe the sight of devastation that greets you. The last time you'd looked out this window, the view was of a lush valley, trufulla trees as far as the eye could see. Now, there was nothing but ragged stumps, smog, and the occasional axe head on the ground. And it wasn't just the trees that were gone. Every plant was dead, down to the last blade of grass. 

You slowly turn back to face him. "What did you do?" you whisper. You want him to refute you. You want him to deny it. But the look of guilt on his face is admission enough.

And the deforestation, as awful as it is, isn't even the worst part. You had to confront the other truth, the one you'd begun to suspect several minutes ago and were all but sure of now. "You never intended to tell me, did you?" you ask in a flat, dead voice.

Instead of answering, he just deflates, and your chest starts to physically ache. It fucking killed you to see him, usually so proud, charming, even a little cocky, so broken and defeated. You loved this man. What the hell were you supposed to do?

You once again have to be the one to break the silence after several minutes of it have passed. "What do you want me to say? What the hell were you thinking, doing this? And worse, not telling me?"

"I didn't want to worry you with my problems," he finally mumbles. "These were my own issues. They shouldn't have been your burdens as well."

You shake your head in disbelief. "That's the whole point of a relationship," you growl. "The other person is there to help you when you need it. I thought you understood that. I let you see me at my most vulnerable. But you couldn't trust me to do the same."

"No, that's not it," he desperately tries to explain, sounding like he's close to tears. "You were helping me so much, you were my world, you still are my world. I just didn't want to pile on more of my baggage and have you decide I wasn't worth it anymore. It's not that I don't trust you. Darling… please."

You sit at his desk and bury your head in your hands, hot tears stinging the back of your own eyes. You can hardly bear staying in this room; you feel it suffocating you. Some of your best memories had occurred right here, but they were all tainted now. You hated it.

After several more minutes, you finally look back up at him. "It's not your trust that's the problem anymore," you rasp, so close to tears. He's hitting you with those big puppy dog eyes that have enabled him to get his way so many times in the past. Your resolve wavers and you have to disconnect. You have an almost out-of-body experience as you hear yourself say, "The trust that matters now is mine. Because you have completely broken it."

At your words, you do see a few tears fall from his eyes. It seems like he's understanding the weight of the situation now, but it still left one question. You didn't want to address it. You wanted to say you could forgive him, that you could work through this. But when your trust had been so utterly decimated like this… you weren't sure you could say that.

Even the thought makes you let out a dry sob. It hurts. Oh God, it fucking hurts. Because no matter what he had done, it remained that you had loved him, and you loved him still. Whatever became of you after today, the fact that you love him would never go away.

"I think… I think I need some space," you breathe out, and his entire body language changes from penitent to frantically fearful faster than a traffic light.

"No! I can't lose you!" he begs. "Needing space is always another way of saying breaking up. Darling… I love you, I can't lose you." You say nothing, not trusting yourself with something as delicate as words. You just stand and head towards the door, but start in alarm when he grabs your hand, whirling you around to face him. "I love you," he repeats, tears streaming freely down his face now. "And I didn't want to do it like this but…" 

You have no clue what he means by that, but he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a simple black case before throwing himself down on one knee at your feet. No, no, no, not now, he can't be doing this now…

But then he opens the case and there sits a stunningly pretty ring. The band is gold, with small diamonds decorating it, finishing off with a larger but not over the top round diamond in the center. It's gorgeous, not gaudy, and exactly your style.

"I know I fucked up," he murmurs. "But I don't want to lose you. I've been planning this for weeks now. I-I want to marry you."

You're stunned into silence. You'd been imagining this moment ever since you'd learned he'd asked your dad. You didn't know if he'd go for some big, romantic gesture, or if he'd be so nervous he'd trip over his words in that endearing way of his.

But in all of your imaginations, one thing remained constant: your reaction. You'd always pictured yourself elated with glee, saying yes before he could even get the whole question out. Never did you think there would be a possibility where you might turn him down. Or that it would hurt this much.

You would have said yes yesterday.

You would have said yes fifteen minutes ago.

You still want to say yes. There's still a very large part of you that wants to ignore the past few minutes and all you'd learned, put that ring on, and work things out. 

But for some reason, you couldn't make yourself do it. Why couldn't you? You wanted to work things out. You wanted to fight for this. He was worth it. Your whole relationship was worth it.

But the fact that you couldn't trust him reared its ugly head once more. And if you couldn't trust him, you couldn't marry him. You needed time to heal, process everything, and truly think about where you wanted to go from here.

You couldn't do that with his ring on your finger.

It kills you to do it. But you feel yourself shaking your head once before ducking away, running out of the office so you wouldn't have to face his heartbreak as well as your own. You knew you'd change your mind if you were forced to confront the damage you did to him. It was cowardice on your part, but it was the truth.

It takes every ounce of willpower you possess to make it out of the building and not run back to him. When you finally get outside, you're almost jarred by the fact that it isn't raining. Isn't that how it always happens in movies? Your life had been like a movie, like a fairytale, for the past year. It would have been morbidly poetic, and yet fitting, for it to end like one as well.

Movie or not, rain or not, nothing could have stopped you from falling to your knees, and then to your hands as well a minute later, taking deep gasping breaths as your whole self tries to vehemently reject what your mind knows to be true. How could he do this? Didn't he love you? At what point did you not become enough for him that he felt like he couldn't share everything with you?

You're starting to get a headache now, feeling like you might get relief if you could only start to cry. But your grief seems to be beyond tears. Within the span of a month, you've lost your father, your future… and now you might have just lost the love of your life as well. 

You don't know how long you stay on that sidewalk, gasping for air. Time is inconsequential. All you know is the crippling ache of drowning in an ocean of despair, with no end in sight.

I'm so sorry. But before you all come after me with your torches and pitchforks, I just have to say, this isn't the end. We still have a few more chapters to go.

[loosesodamarble]

As Time Moves On Part 2: A Rose Blooming in Darkness

Summary: Yami reaches out to Charlotte with a question and she replies with a confession. And in turn, Yami voices a pledge. Genre: general, slight romance Word count: ~3200 A/N: Thank you to @lyranova and @thoughtfullyrainynightmare for beta reading this fic and Vanished Kira.

..........

Yami stared at the cloudy, noon-time sky. Faint wisps of smoke drifted past his vision every few seconds as he puffed a cigarette.

While winding down from the events in Spade, Yami had begun to recall vague memories from when he had nearly died by Lucifero’s hand. He remembered gathering his quickly fading strength to protect Asta for the kid to unleash his final attack on a severed torso of a devil. He remembered pain and his vision going dark, not from his or Nacht’s magic though. From death looming over him.

Then there was a voice. Charlotte’s voice. It was so loud and sounded desperate.

And the next thing Yami knew, he was alive again.

Yami couldn’t recall the words spoken to him though. He’d spent well over a month trying to piece together what she had said. He tried and tried before he determined that he had been too out of it to hear a thing.

Yami had once considered that maybe Charlotte had just been scolding him for dying. That sounded like something Charlotte would do. Then again, it didn’t explain her recent skittishness at captains’ meetings. If Charlotte had scolded a dying man, Yami suspected some temporary shame before an apology but not the levels of embarrassment that she’d been showing around him. So with his one guess ruled out, he changed his tactics.

To learn the truth, Yami needed to hear it straight from Charlotte.

Yami had invited Charlotte over to the base for tea earlier that week. He wanted to go to a restaurant, same as they did when discussing Charlotte’s curse. But Vanessa and Josele insisted that he pick somewhere more private. Their pestering made him ask if they knew what Charlotte had said but Vanessa promptly walked away from the conversation, laughing, while Josele smiled ever so calmly and told Yami, “It’s not my place to say.” And so the pair of captains would meet in the casual privacy of the Black Bull’s hideout.

That brought Yami to where he was in the present, waiting for Charlotte’s arrival. Something about expecting her was nerve-wracking. He couldn’t place why though.

Was it the fact that they were meeting outside of work-related reasons? Was it her taking time out of her busy day and prioritizing him, if for a short time? Did it have to do with him not knowing what Charlotte had said at all and he was actually worried about what her words were?

Yami sat up and shook his head. His brain was going to weird places.

And that’s when he heard her.

“Hello? Yami? I’m here as you requested!” Charlotte called out, prompting Yami to shelve his thoughts.

Yami leaned over the edge of the roof and grinned down at Charlotte.

“Afternoon, Prickly Princess!” he responded. “And I’d like to point out, I only asked you to be here.”

Charlotte bowed her head and shook it before looking up at Yami. “Regardless of how you beckoned me here, I’ve arrived. Shall we have tea or not?”

“Right right! I’ll be down in a moment!”

…..

Charlotte took a sip of the amber-colored liquid in her teacup. While it looked like an ale from a tavern, the drink didn’t have the hit that alcohol did. It was a gentle, toasted flavor instead.

“What kind of tea is this?” she asked in genuine curiosity.

“Barely tea. It’s from my homeland,” Yami explained. “Or well, the closest I can make. I only just recently got the tea to tasting this good through a lot of trial and error.”

Charlotte raised her eyebrows at this. She never suspected Yami to have a side project like this. Or one at all. Then again, she tended to her manor’s garden in her sparse free time so it made sense for Yami to take up a hobby that made him feel more at home as well.

“I applaud your effort, Yami. It’s not a flavor I’d expect from tea, but it’s quite refreshing,” Charlotte said with a smile. Her relaxed expression quickly fell away though. “But enough of basic pleasantries. You said you had something to ask of me.” She set down her cup and rested her chin on the back of her interlocked hands. “So, what is it?”

“Don’t look so worked up,” chuckled Yami. “‘S nothing serious if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Considering all four kingdoms are still rebuilding from Spade’s— From the Zogratis’ misdeeds…” Charlotte’s voice trailed off, realizing her mistake.

The everyday citizens of the Spade Kingdom had been victims themselves under the rule of the Zoagratis family. To blame the country as a whole would be in poor taste.

“…it’s hard for me not to still be on edge.”

Yami mutely nodded in agreement.

“As I was saying…” Charlotte raised her head and put a hand on her cup again. “What is it you wished to discuss?”

Yami stared into Charlotte’s eyes for a moment, seeming to consider something. He took a deep breath. Then,

“When I was about to die, you yelled something at me. What did you say?”

The question made Charlotte’s heart skip a beat and her face heat up in an instant.

Of course she knew that Yami hadn’t heard her confession. She remembered him asking more than a month ago, right on the just-calmed-down battlefield. But she also blacked out then, preventing her from answering.

Charlotte had debated reaching out to Yami and re-admitting her love. But between the labor of regular Magic Knight duties, aiding in reconstruction after the Zogratis’ attacks, and simply worrying about confessing again, she never managed to go through with the idea.

And now… Yami had approached her about it.

Charlotte bowed her head and stared into her half-empty cup, hoping to hide her flushed cheeks.

I did it once before. Surely I can do it again! Charlotte told herself. And this time he’ll… What if he misunderstands and thinks I only see him as a friend? Or he could take it as a joke and laugh me off. Charlotte’s grip on her drink tightened. What if he outright rejects me because of how rude I’ve been to him in the past? For as lowbrow and casual as Yami came off, Charlotte knew he still had his pride as a Captain and a regular man. Or maybe he’s already in a relationship with that witch in his squad?

“Is it really that bad?” Yami’s voice broke Charlotte out of her head.

“Huh?” Mind still racing. Heart racing even faster. And face positively burning. Charlotte still dared to look at Yami.

The man’s face was neutral. But not in a way that was lost in thought, but rather as though he was in deep contemplation. It was a different look for him.

“I don’t know what you said to me back then but if you really don’t wanna say, it must be bad…” Yami paused to take a sip of his drink. “Didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll forget if y—”

“No!” Charlotte exclaimed without thinking. She took a deep breath. She needed her composure for this. “Yami, the truth is…” Charlotte heard her heartbeat in her ears but she pressed on. “The truth of the matter is that I love you Yami Sukehiro!”

Yami blinked a couple of times.

“Charlotte…”

Her name on his lips was so different from his usual nickname. Soft and sweet. But Charlotte couldn’t let herself swoon over that. Not in that moment.

“I understand that it must sound strange, considering how I tend to treat you, but it’s the truth. I became infatuated with you years ago and that feeling has become love.”

“Charlotte…” Again her name sounded so different in Yami’s voice. The look on his face was something she couldn’t place. She knew, though, that she didn’t feel anxious with Yami’s eye on her. “Are you sure?”

The question made Charlotte pause. Of all the possible responses, she never considered the one that turned out to be reality.

“What do you mean?” Charlotte asked, as if it was the only thing she could answer with. “I may not have much experience with romance”—Charlotte put hand to her heart. A feeble show of conviction due to her own confusion at the inquiry—“but I’m fairly certain of my feelings!”

“No.” Yami shook his head. “I mean, are you sure that you like me?”

“Huh?”

The significance in the change of the question wasn’t lost on Charlotte. Her feelings, her understanding of her own heart, were not the thing being questioned. It would’ve been unlike Yami, the captain of a squad that did whatever their hearts pleased, to make a big deal of what a person felt, anyways.

“I’m not exactly…” Yami tapped a finger on the table. “What’s the word? Passable? Pleasant? Something with a ‘p’…” He closed his eyes for a moment before faintly nodding. “Palatable.”

Charlotte said nothing, as it looked like Yami was going to keep talking.

“I’m Yami Sukehiro. I’ve got no manners. I’ve got this eerie Dark Magic. I’ve got all the worst habits, drinking and smoking and gambling. I’m the coarse and rude foreigner captain of the Black Bulls, the worst squad in the kingdom!” Yami laughed.

It sounded hollow and Charlotte knew. She’d heard genuine laughs from him. Ones that were lazy. Ones that were teasing and wanting to provide levity. She’d memorized and learned to appreciate all of Yami’s laughs and chortles. And his present chuckle was insincere, self-deprecating.

“I’m not the kind of guy most people would want to be with. I’m not the guy that a lady like you would go for.”

That was where Charlotte decided to stop him.

“Enough. While I can’t dispute most of what you’ve said,” she stated outright, no hesitation. “Your manners do leave much to be desired. Your magic and your origins are indeed peculiar, making you the target of judgment and derision. You’re not an ideal man by most people’s standards. But you’re not as bad as you think you are.” Charlotte watched Yami’s down-on-himself expression change to one of curiosity. She paused to hum and smile. “For one, you’re not the captain of the worst squad, not after the Bulls placed second at the Star Festival.”

“Heh, I guess that is something,” Yami muttered. He picked up his cup and swirled the drink inside for a moment. “But I mean…”

“And while you may not be ‘proper,’ that’s what I like about you,” Charlotte said plainly.

Yami let out a gasp and his eyes went wide.

“The men I’ve met who’ve been deemed ‘proper’ are… not pleasant in their own ways.” Charlotte closed her eyes and thought. “They act in ways that serve their egos, behaving not as gentlemen but as lesser beings. Akin to swine or toads.”

The thought alone made Charlotte frown the slightest bit.

Still, her remark caused Yami to let out a snort. She giggled, happy that she could get that reaction from him.

And she found that the words continued to flow out from her.

“Some men are more obvious in their unpleasantness, treating me as some object and acting as though they were entitled to my company. Others are less… offensive but no less bothersome.”

Yami hummed as he took a sip from his cup, prompting Charlotte to continue.

“There’s no end to the men who only praise me for my looks or throw themselves at my feet as though I wanted a sycophant for a lover,” Charlotte said with a sigh. “After so many men like that, you were a breath of fresh air in my life, Yami. Admittedly, I was first attracted to you because of your looks and how you saved me from my curse. But my infatuation grew beyond those shallow things over the years. You see me for my strengths but also acknowledge my weaknesses. You’re casual and friendly with me, even if I don’t always appreciate your approach. I’m drawn to how freely you express yourself and how you’re proud to stand out.”

As Charlotte went on, she watched as Yami’s eyes never left her. And the look of amusement he had when she’d talked about other men changed. It became a grin that was soft and… admiring. Charlotte felt a smile come to her own face.

The hammering feeling in her chest registered in her mind again. She felt the heat in her face all over again. There was a bit of dizziness in her head. Yet this time, those sensations weren’t from nervousness.

They were inviting. Compelling her heart to open further.

Charlotte held her head a little higher. She would let him see her, all of her with a burning red face and eyes full of determination, hoping that her words reached him.

“There’s much I have yet to learn about you. But I feel like I can say that I love you as you are, for who I know you to be.”

Once she was done talking, Charlotte took a deep breath.

I said it. I finally confessed, she thought to herself as she kept looking at Yami. Her hands, which were on the table and intertwined together, clenched in anticipation. All I can do now is hear his answer.

Yami tapped a finger against his cup a couple of times. Then, he let out a loud exhale.

“Man, Prickly Princess…” muttered Yami. “I told you before that I’ve got a sensitive heart and now you’ve gone and worked it up like crazy.”

Charlotte let out a small “Huh?”

“You were goin’ on about how you like me and I can’t give you a decent reply.” Yami sucked in a breath between his teeth and rubbed the back of his neck. “Truth is… I ain’t sure how I feel about you. I like to think we’re friends but… Sorry I just never considered you romantically.”

“Ahh… I… No, it makes sense,” was Charlotte’s quiet reply. It would’ve been a lie to say that her heart didn’t drop a little. Getting her hopes up that he’d reciprocate right out the gate had been foolish from the beginning. But still she… “It’s okay. I don’t need—”

“That said, it’s not hard to like someone like you.”

Those words made Charlotte jolt and her blush intensify by tenfold.

“Wh-wha-wha—? What?!”

There was a hum of amusement from Yami before he spoke again, “Aw c’mon. I’m oblivious but I’m not blind. You’re someone real amazing. Capable in battle and admired by your whole squad. Not to mention pretty fun to talk with.”

Charlotte involuntarily laughed at the thought of the banter that she and Yami had exchanged over the years. Was that really his idea of fun? Or maybe it was his reassurance that he was willing to look past her harsher words against him in the past. Whatever the truth was, it helped Charlotte loosen up. And her laughter brought out a bit of Yami’s own.

The space between them, that which was between their hearts, was closing the slightest bit.

“Guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m not just gonna tell you ‘no’ here and now.” Yami leaned forward on his arms. The expression on his face was relaxed yet contemplative. “I ain’t gonna ignore you, not after everything you’ve said.” His eyes were clear and focused on Charlotte, not wavering at all. “I know this doesn’t sound romantic but I need you to give me time to fall in love with you too. It’s not fair otherwise?”

Blue eyes went wide.

Yami’s words were not a promise to love her back. Not directly at least. Rather, they were something between a pledge and a plea. He would not accept Charlotte’s heart, which she had offered in shaking hands, until he could give his own heart in return.

Charlotte nodded her head then said, “It’s certainly not the most elegant proposition. But thank you for hearing me out and if you need time, then I’ll wait.” She took a sip of the barely tea and the roasted flavor tasted even better now that she wasn’t so strung up. “Though if you don’t mind me saying, I will be putting my best foot forward to make you fall.”

When she said that, Yami clapped a hand over his mouth and stifled a snicker. Charlotte raised a brow at his amusement.

“You’re making it sound like you’re trying to trip me,” he explained, his voice muffled by his hand still covering his mouth.

“Ack! That wasn’t—!”

“I know, I know.” Yami waved his hand in the air, like he was shooing away an insect. “Don’t sweat it. You’re a lady who's hard on the lads, but you’re not the type to kick a man when he’s down. Or, I guess trip him over.”

Charlotte let out an exasperated sigh. As much as she admired Yami and found his casualness part of his charm, his teasing threw her way off sometimes.

“Right…” Another sip of tea was taken. Charlotte was close to needing a refill. “So… I suppose now that I’ve said my piece and you’ve said yours…” Charlotte started to rise from her seat. However, Yami’s hand reaching across the table and grasping her wrist stopped her. “Y-Yami?!” Didn’t he say he needed time? Why is he being so forward all of a sudden?!

“C’mon Princess.” Yami uttered the nickname without the usual preceding adverb but rather with a softness that she wasn’t sure she’d known before. “Don’t just pour out your heart and run. Can’t you chat a bit more?” Yami let go of Charlotte’s wrist and pulled back. Then, he rested his chin in his palm. “I know I’d like your company for a bit longer. But, if you really gotta go…”

Charlotte looked down and touched the wrist which Yami had held. When she looked back to Yami and the inviting smile on his face.

“Alright then. But.” Charlotte swallowed hard then took a chance. “But only because you’re such a lonely man desperate for my attention.”

“Bwahahaaa! Hey, I’d like to think I’m just a little needy!”

Charlotte grinned with a bit more confidence as she sat back down. Yami refilled both their cups which she was thankful for. They’d need the refills since they would be at the table for a while longer.

…..

It wasn’t until hours later that Charlotte had to leave, called to return to base by her squad.

While Yami cleared the table they used, he was finally left alone with his thoughts.

And his thoughts were a repeat of Charlotte’s confession. And her face when she’d spoken it.

Her eyes…

Lighter than her roses but darker than the day sky. And looking at him, only him. She gazed at him with gentleness rather than cruelty. With sweetness rather than disgust.

Charlotte saw Yami as worthwhile, loveable. The fact that anyone, let alone a woman like her who was considered the picture of beauty, intelligence, and strength, wanted him for who he was left him feeling warm all over.

Yami set down the cups they’d used by the sink. He touched a hand to his chest.

My heart is still racing over it? Yami smiled to himself. Her words are stronger than she knows. And, again, the image of Charlotte flashed in his mind. Maybe I’m already falling in love…

[boots-with-the-fur-club]

Chapter 5 of the reincarnation fic!! Please make sure to check the tags, this chapter deals with some potentially triggering situations.

@daboyau

@rottmnt-background-screenshots

Leo wakes up in frustration.

“It ends there? We barely started to hear anything! Tomo, did you get any memories about Haru?”

There’s silence.

“What?”

“You called me Tomo.” Donnie replies.

“…..You know what I meant!”

“No, I don’t remember anything about her. It’s only vague feelings.”

“Gram-Gram said that the dreams would be more unfocused. Maybe we’d have to tap into our ninpo again to see what he was talkin about.” Raph comments.

“But we can’t, dad won’t let us!” Mikey pouts.

Leo thinks for a moment.

“He stopped us because he thinks it’s dangerous right? So, if we got some more help, he’d probably let us. I say we call in an expert!”

“And who, pray tell, are we going to get?” Donnie raises an eyebrow.

Leo smirks.

“Aprilllll O’Neil is here! And I brought breakfast pizza.” She proudly holds up a stack of three boxes.

“Right on time and as glorious as ever.” Leo and her share a fist bump.

April sets the pizzas down on the table and sits next to them. They explain the situation while eating.

“Woah….that’s pretty heavy. You guys seriously can’t catch a break for even a second.”

“We might if you’ll help us!”

“Of course I will. I’ve said yes to a lot crazier things, and this’ll be easy.”

“You’re the best!” Mikey hugs her.

“Anything for you guys.” She pats his head.

They eventually head to Raph’s room, sitting in a circle like they did in the other room. April instructs them to do what they had done before, but also tells them to not think about the memories as theirs. She wants them to try to imagine themselves as observers to help with gaining access to different memories.

Everyone begins holding hands, leaving April and Donnie as the last ones. For some reason, he feels nervous. April smiles at him warmly which puts him at ease. He finally takes her hand and suddenly feels a memory bubble up to the surface.

April’s methods seemed to have worked too because he’s actually seeing Tomo and the room he’s currently in. He was practicing with a bo staff but sort of fumbling with it.

The sliding door to the room opened, causing him to drop the staff in surprise. Giggling starts coming from the open door.

“Haru! You scared me!”

“You knew I’d be here after your lesson, it’s not my fault!” She gets up from her kneeling position and closes the door behind herself.

“Nobody saw you?”

“I’m always super careful. No more talking, I want to help already!” She smiles and walks closer, picking up the extra bo staff from the floor.

“It’s not fair. I actually get training but you only sneak in to watch and you’re better than me.”

Haru moves the staff with somewhat more control than he had.

“It’s because you get too much in your own head. You’re letting everyone pressure you too much.”

“I’m supposed to be good at this. Everyone else is, you are. They should let you train, I don’t understand what being a girl has to do with it.”

“For some reason it means I need to focus on cooking and cleaning. I don’t hate it, I like knowing how to cook, but I want to do stuff like this too. I also think you should learn how to cook, you’re pretty bad at it.”

Tomo pouts.

“I’m bad at a lot of things apparently.”

“So what? You worry about now but you don’t think about later. Later, you’re going to be so good with the bo staff you might even be able to win against me.”

“I only have trouble because when you get bored you start holding it weird.“

“Weird? Hmmm….you mean….like this!?” She changes the position of her hands like it’s a bat.

“Haru no! Not again!”

“Fight me!” She starts chasing him.

He runs away, but they laugh harder the longer they run after each other.

Donnie wanted to find this nice, but considering how Tomo felt and what he knows, he’d be setting himself up for tragedy.

Tomo and Haru’s names are eventually called. They leave their bo staffs in the room, open up the door, and rush out.

The entire scenery changes. The room changes to one covered in what seemed like carefully crafted decorations. Haru was hunched over a small table that was low to the ground.

Donnie glances around to see where Tomo was and is surprised when he enters the room. April had mentioned being able to see what the others remembered using this view but Haru wasn’t here.

It shouldn’t be like this.

“Haru?” Tomo puts a hand on her shoulder.

She sits up, eyes filled with tears.

“I’m scared, Tomo.”

“What? Why? What happened? Has someone hurt you!?”

“N-No, mother keeps talking about being ready to get married when I’m older.”

“Oh….why are you scared? That won’t be for a while.”

“I asked her if she had someone picked out already. She does.”

“Is his family bad?”

“I don’t know, but what I do know is that they live in Tohoku.”

Tomo freezes.

“But….we live in Kyushu.”

Haru tears up more and nods.

“A letter a year, if I’m lucky. That’s how much we’d be able to talk to each other. I-If I’m not….it’s never again….”

Tomo tears up but quickly wipes his eyes.

“I can fix this, I’ll talk to mother, there has to be something I can do!” He turns to leave.

Haru grabs his sleeve.

“There’s no point! Please, Tomo, this isn’t something you fix. There’s nothing we can do.”

“Then what is this? What am I supposed to do?”

“L-Lie. Tell me it’ll be okay. Tell me that we won’t have to be separated. Tell me that we aren’t going to just stop talking one day and I’ll have to forget that you ever existed!” Haru grips his sleeve even tighter.

Tomo’s eyes widen before he barrels into her with a hug.

“Please, never forget me. I’m not a twin without you Haru! I don’t mean anything!”

She hugs him back as tightly as possible.

“We will never stop being twins. No matter what family I marry into. I’m sorry for what I said, I don’t want to forget you! I just hate it all! We won’t even have the same family name anymore! What will I have of you!?”

Tomo thinks for a moment and let’s go of her to untie the yellow cord from his hair.

“This.”

“Your…..kanzashi?”

“It’s not a lot, but it’s something nobody would take away from you or stop you from having.” He ties her hair up with it in a low ponytail.

She looks into a mirror.

“My hair looks just like yours always does.”

“You may not be able to see me in the future…..but you can remember what I look like. Obviously you’re a girl so it’ll change, but we have the same eyes and the same smile. You’re never going to be without me.”

Haru smiles.

“You’re the best brother ever.”

“I know that. I’m your only brother.”

“Then am I the best sister?”

“I don’t have any other choice.”

She turns to him and shoves his cheek. Neither of them seemed particularly upset despite it.

Everything changes once again. Haru and Tomo were sitting outside on the deck of their home. The leaves on the ground whirled around a bit in the wind.

“Tomo?”

“Yes?”

“You’d tell me if something bad was going to happen, right?”

“It depends.”

“Really? You wouldn’t just tell me?”

“Ask me the question you’re really thinking about.”

“You’ve been training a lot more. It makes me think something bad is happening. Is it?”

Tomo goes silent for a moment.

“I don’t know. I really don’t. Nobody is telling me anything either. I’m just….thinking about later, like you said.”

“I guess my advice wasn’t so bad, especially since you’ve gotten much better.”

“I started thinking about one thing instead of a lot of things. It helped.”

“Oh yeah? What?”

“Protecting you.”

“I don’t need protecting, you know that.”

“I know you’re better at it than me, but if there is a time you need my help I want to be ready. That’s all.”

“You’re lucky I know what a worrier you are or I’d be mad at you.”

“And you’re lucky you have a worrier looking after you.”

“I’m the older twin, I don’t need looking after either.”

“Only by five minutes!”

“It still counts!”

“You never let me forget it.”

“I’m just reminding you of the amazing fact that you never had to live in a world I didn’t exist.”

“But you had to be in pain for five whole minutes without me.”

She leans her head on his shoulder, kicking her legs a bit.

“Five minutes too long.”

There’s yet another location change, as well as season as there’s snow all over the ground.

Tomo and Haru seemed to be visiting an isolated temple with their parents. Several men surrounded them, highly on guard.

“Are we really safe out here?” Haru holds onto Tomo’s arm.

“This is a sacred place, that will make anyone think twice about hurting us.” Tomo tried to sound calm but he was just as nervous.

Their mother placed down a wooden board of food and began to pray in front of it.

Tomo couldn’t help but be distracted, scanning the forested area around them. Something bright in the trees catches his eye.

He immediately pulls Haru onto the floor, covering her with his body and shutting his eyes tight. He only opens his eyes when he hears a gurgling noise.

The food was splashed with red. He didn’t want to look higher than that. He didn’t have to.

“Tomo! What happened!?” Haru struggles against his weight.

He only covers her more, making sure she can’t see a thing.

The guards close in on them more. There’s a lot of shouting and chaos. Men start coming out from the forest. Then, suddenly, he and Haru are lifted from the ground. He still scrambles to try to somehow cover her eyes.

It doesn’t work.

“Mother! Mother!! Father, we can’t leave her behind! She’s hurt!“

“She’s dead! There’s nothing we can do!” Their father takes off running with them in his arms.

Haru sobs while Tomo is in a state of complete shock. He can’t say or do anything in response.

After some time of running, the same men from earlier are coming after them. There’s less than last time but they’re still outnumbered.

Their father takes a moment to place them on the ground before unsheathing his swords. He hands the smaller one to Tomo.

“Take this and protect your sister! Run! Now!”

Tomo snaps out of it almost immediately, grabbing Haru’s hand with the one that isn’t occupied before running off into the forest.

They could hear the clanging of metal behind them. The sounds of someone running in the snow joined moments after.

Tomo’s eyes dart around the landscape. Eventually, there’s a snow bank to his side. He stops, allowing Haru to get next to him, then shoves her in.

It was so thick she’d be covered if she kept still. He breathes heavily as the man chasing them comes into view. His hands refuse to stop shaking.

The man laughs at him. Tomo was the least intimidating thing in the world at the moment. Still, he tried to at least give himself a little bit of a chance.

He held the sword out as best he could. The man came quickly at him, so fast that there was no chance to do anything.

Haru suddenly jumped out from the snowbank. She grabbed the man’s legs, causing him to fall.

Once he gets his bearings back slightly, the man slices at her. Tomo screams and stabs at him until the man stops moving. Only when he’s sure he won’t hurt them anymore does he drop the sword and pull his sister away.

“Haru! Why couldn’t you just stay in the snow!?”

“I-I couldn’t just let him kill you. Y-You were going to die.”

Tomo tears up heavily as he looks for the wound. The breath is nearly knocked out of him when he sees how bad it is.

“But now…..”

“T-Tomo. I-It’s okay.”

“No! None of this is okay! I was supposed to keep you safe!”

“My….my biggest fear….do you know what it was?”

“Don’t say was!” He presses down on her wound.

She shouts in pain, trying to get him to stop.

“T-Tomo!”

“I’m not letting you die like this!”

She breathes heavily, no longer stopping him but leaving her hands on his.

“I-It was be-being in a world wh-where I didn’t have you….th-that’s why….” Her hands start slipping.

“No no no, don’t you do it! What about being twins!? Haru!”

She mumbles something.

He holds her up, hugging her.

“H-Haru?”

“….Re…flection….” She whispers.

Her body goes still.

Tomo screams out in anguish, not wanting to let her go even now.

Donnie feels like his heart is about to shatter. It’s somehow even worse than he imagined. He and his brothers came back. Their deaths weren’t exactly permanent. Haru was gone. Tomo was never getting her back.

He sees the yellow cord drop onto the snow from her hair. A cold wind picks it up, flying it away. Donnie knows he can’t exactly interact with a 1,000 year old memory but he can’t help but grab at it.

Surprisingly, it lands in his hand. This is the first time he’s looked at himself in this ninpo energy memory place as an observer. His hand was completely purple and sort of see through.

The yellow cord glows then morphs into a new shape. He was holding hands with Haru. There was hardly a moment to take this in before her form grows, changing again.

“April….?”

[canonicalcryptid]

No Context Fenhawke Drabble

Levi hummed. 

His foot was perched on Fenris thigh, shaking it lightly back and forth in his mild agitation. 

They weren’t back together, Levi had conceded they might never be together again, but they were closer than they had been in a long time. (Or, as the memory of Fenris unhappy face laying on his chest bubbled up, maybe Levi just remembered the little things he gets away with now.)

Fenris grabbed Levi by the ankle, stopping him. 

“You know this already.” Levi whined. 

“I know what you’ve said over cards and drinks.” Fenris replied. 

“So? There’s not much more.”

“Then I want you to tell me again.”

Levi sighed, propping his other foot up on Fenris thigh. “We lived in Lothering for most of my life. I’m told when we first got to Fereldan we lived near my grandfather but had to leave once my magic manifested.”

“Your fathers father.”

“Yes. Apparently some of my mothers family came to Fereldan after someone wound up in Kinloch Hold- the, uh, the Circle nearest to Lothering. Ironically. Hope they didn’t go down with it.”

Fenris rubbed Levi’s calf, which he tried not to think too hard about. “If you’re anything to go by, it’s likely.”

Levi snorted, his words slipping out more bitterly than he meant them to. “I’d say i’m the exception, not the rule, Fen.”

It wasn’t pity and it wasn’t scrutiny; Fenris just looked sad. He reached out, Levi backed away. He wouldn’t be able to bring himself to leave if Fenris was that gentle with him now. He’d hole up and live in this room with him forever.

Fenris pulled his hand back before it made contact, his expression unchanged by Levi’s rejection. 

Levi took a deep inhale, continuing. “I don’t remember much of my grandfather. He was sick by the time my father got back to Fereldan- he was bony and always wrapped in blankets with the fire on, even when it was sweltering.”

“It seems like you remember quite a bit.”

“Is it?”

“I would say so.”

“Mm.” 

Fenris drew his attention back before Levi could let the conversation die on that awkward note. “And you don’t know anything about your fathers mother?”

“No. She was human, clearly, but granddad kept hush about her. She dropped him off at Alienage with his name already picked out and that was all father could get out of him.”

“You seem very sure of that.”

“Yeah, they exchanged letters up until he died. Pretty often considering Gwaren and Lothering aren’t close. Father tried to ask about multiple times, but grandad said it was in his best interest not to think on her.”

“There was nothing you wanted to ask?”

“Wasn’t part of the conversation. Father kept all his letters in locked box - probably to keep our sticky hands off - broke it open after he died.”

“I see.”

“But, well, so we traveled for a while before we hit Lothering. Lived a few places but it was lots of small, leaky farmhouse or cramped apartments. Everywhere is sort of the same if you’re just trying to squeeze in somewhere. Even Kirkwall. They were  all too remote or too full of Templars though. Lothering struck a good balance of not close knit enough people would be peeking in your windows but small enough they trusted minimal Templar presence would root out any scary Apostates. Naturally they did flawless work.”

“So it would seem.”

“Then, you know, the twin died-“

“Abigail.”

“…Yeah, Abby.” It struck something in him. He didn’t mention his sister much, deliberately. She wasn’t a sore topic, but a mystery he would never have answers to. It was easier not to think about her. “I don’t…remember her face anymore.” He surprised himself, more honest in eight months of sobriety than he’d ever been under the table. “She was always dragging me along behind her, but her face is just…a vague idea in my brain. I don’t know if she looked more like mother or father. If she looked like me. …Her corpse was deformed when they pulled her from the lake, they didn’t want anyone to see her. I was too scared to peak even though we had to keep the casket in the house before the funeral. It was child-sized too so I probably could’ve lifted it. I wish I had, sometimes, even if it would’ve horrified me. Maybe it would’ve kept her in my mind better.”

“I think,” Fenris hand closed over Levi’s, where he’d been unraveling a loose thread in the couch. “You would have wished you chose not to look.”

“……..Yeah?” 

“Yes.”

“Mother got depressed after that. She didn’t leave her room for a long time.” Levi dropped his head back to look at the ceiling as his fingers curled over Fenris’. Fenris didn’t pull his hand away. “Then Beth and Carver were born. They’d always fight over who first but it was Beth. Nobody was thinking it’d  be twins again, so I got to hold her for a little bit, while they figured out another baby was coming. She cried like crazy. I don’t think she ever got that loud again for the rest of the life. She was more rambunctious before her magic came in. She must’ve been 7 or 8, got real quiet after that. I think she was always just scared. Of the Templars finding her, or us, I suppose, but also that she could do anything at all. Carver had a chip on his shoulder ever since, though he didn’t take it as hard with Beth.” Levi drew his attention back to Fenris. “You never knew him like this, but when he first came back from army, in that fucking blighted mess, he was different. He was calm, he was confident. He seemed happy, as strange as that is. I don’t think it was ever good for him following my shadow.” Levi had drawn subconsciously turned away from Fenris face to where his thumb was stroking Fenris palm. “He was different after I came back too. He had plans, even then.”

“When you came back?”

“Oh, you know, yeah…I guess i’ve never put it all in order before. I told you before but my first love was the butchers son. He was nice, tender-hearted. His dad caught us fooling around and beat the shit out of us. Mother got mad for a couple different reasons, but I didn’t think she got mad enough at the butcher. So, in a couple months i’d put enough stuff to the side that I felt I could leave with Barrel. I immediately almost died,” Levi let out a genuine little chuckle. “Food poisoning of all things. Some Avaar, they’re the mountain people of Fereldan, saved my ass. I learned a lot of the poultices and things I know from them.”

“You must have traveled with them for quite a while. You mentioned you traveled around Fereldan before the Blight, but I assumed alone.”

“Yeah it wound up being a few of us at one point. The Avaar- Sigrun was a mage and Amund was a big, big guy who was there to make sure Templars didn’t get her-”

“You slept with him.”

“You could pretend to be scandalized.”

“We are past that point.”

“But Sigrun,” Levi swallowed, suddenly acutely aware that at some point they’d started holding hands. “Thought our meeting was fated. So, they watched out for me so I didn’t die.”

“Why ‘fated.’” Fenris was asking precious few questions; he continued to be on the mark. 

“She was also mage. She was on some sort of quest - I don’t think she really knew what it was either, honestly - but she did what I do except in reverse.”

“I would prefer if you didn’t dance around the concept of magic harming people.” There was an edge in Fenris voice Levi hadn’t heard since everything that happened with Merrill. 

“No,” Levi clapped his other hand over where Fenris held his. “I’m not- I mean, obviously what I’m saying is she used harmful magic. But it’s not like fire or ice or blood magic. It was something…she said if she could master it, it would be winning a bloodless war.”

“That is not a comfort to me.”

“It wasn’t though…she didn’t want conquest. It was something burdensome she was wanting to understand.”

“People don’t always get to chose what they do harm in service of.”

“I guess I still have faith in the person she was.”

“That’s going to hurt you one day.” Fenris held his gaze for a long minute. “Continue.”

“Huh?”

“After your travels.”

“Oh. I returned home after my father died.” Fenris stayed tense, even as Levi unwound his hand to stroke his fingers. “I missed the funeral by a few months. I think mother wanted to hit me but didn’t have it in her anymore. It had been three years since i had been home.” Levi sighed, and something in Fenris started to ease. “Mother wasn’t doing well, she was bedridden again, so I had to get the house in order. Beth was mostly stuck looking after mother, Carver started working at the butchers and I did some healing. I didn’t make anyone pay to keep my head low but people were more willing to outweigh my coin. Then Carver left for the army and then the blight happened and now I’m in your house.” Somehow, that was the thing that made his chest buckle. He turned back to ceiling not wanting to risk making eye contact with Fenris. 

“Levi,” Fenris got up, untangling their hands. In the fraction of a second between their hands parting and Fenris lowering himself on the edge of couch next to Levi, Levi acutely felt his absence. Fenris forced his gaze back, his hand sliding along Levi’s jaw to cradle the back of his head. He felt dizzy with yearning. “Did Varania live?”

“Yes.” He was breathless. That was likely the only thing keeping him from sobbing. 

They didn’t kiss. The instant of it possibly happening left Levi stricken, and he was grateful for how tightly Fenris had pulled him to his chest. It was grounding. He slowly wound his arms around Fenris torso. Fenris held him tighter in turn. 

“Don’t apologize.” Fenris said before Levi could speak. “I’m still unsure how I should feel, but I needed to know.” 

Levi couldn’t lift his head to face Fenris. He wanted to kiss him. He wanted to cry until there was nothing left in him. He wanted to apologize for keeping a target on Fenris back. Instead he muttered, “You’re too kind with me, you know that.”

[navxry]

DAY 3 : LUCKED OUT !?

-> Kirara had endured this once, didn't she? So why does it feel like she's forgetting something vital? (RULER OF LOVE TAGLIST: @xianyoon ; send an ask to be tagged!) [ <- day 2 | main page | day 4 -> ]

“Ah, so you feel that you’ve been here before. Is that correct, miss Kirara?”

“Yes, that’s how it feels. It’s not strange, is it?”

“Hm… I’ve heard of worse. Yours seem more of the calm before the storm, so to speak.”

Well, if there’s one thing that Kirara wasn’t expecting for her situation to be described as, it would be that. She had thought that he would say something worse, like she has lost it or is being a bit too ‘delusional’ for one to take seriously.

“The calm before the storm, huh…” Kirara muttered, crossing her arms as she carried the package. “I didn’t knew you’d see it that way, Kazuha. I thought you’d see me as though I’ve grown two heads.”

The albino laughed, though he shook his head at the idea. “I’d rather not think of it that way,” he began, his eyes focused on her as they walked down the lane. “After all, it sounds more like an insult. Wouldn’t it be wise to give it a try before judging someone for their memory?”

“Hm… I guess,” she said, nodding in agreement. “Oh, but if I do remember, maybe it can serve as a clue.”

A clue for what, exactly? She didn’t knew. But she knew it was better than to be so down about having trouble in her memory. Kazuha seems pleased at the idea, though his expression morphed immediately when he turned to where they’re going.

“Strange,” he comments, his brows furrowed. “It would seem that the fog is getting thicker… I can hardly see whether we’ve been walking in circles or not with such a thick fog.”

The fog?

She looked up and around them for a moment, realizing that yes, Kazuha was right to comment on it. She could tell that it felt like it became worse, especially when the flashlight the boy carried could barely pierce through the blanket of mist.

Fog… How odd. She could vaguely recall one being in her ‘daydream’, but was it this thick? Or was she deluding herself?

Even if she wanted to ponder over it, she was interrupted by Kazuha pulling her to stop walking, his grip on her arm firm. The girl stumbled, her head whipping to see what was the hold up.

“Kazuha?” she called out, confused. “What’s—”

The next words seem to die from her throat when she saw that he was looking dead straight, his eyes wide and his lips unmoving. It was like he was facing something she shouldn’t look, especially when he turned to her, mouthing the next words.

“Don’t look behind you.”

…

She wanted to ask, but something about his expression kicked her instincts to high gear. With a nod, she kept her head down as he turned his head away, pulling her close as they began back tracking in the fog.

She didn’t want to face who—or what—lurks from behind. Not when they could hear the faint sound of snipping and giggling.

“Keep your head down, miss Kirara,” Kazuha whispers. “Whatever you do, don’t raise it until I say so. We aren’t safe until she loses track of us.”

She? Wait— is she—!?

Seemingly sensing the rising fear, Kazuha began to quicken his pace, dragging Kirara along as they began to briskly walk away from the danger lurking from behind. The sound of snipping and giggling seem to echo and grow louder, judging by how her new friend is getting a tad bit anxious in his steps.

She can’t blame him, though. Whatever he saw, she was not going to do the same and worsen his panic.

Though, that seem to change when they could hear what sounds like the sound of croaking… And it was coming from right behind them. One that reminded Kirara of a death rattle.

Oh my God, she thought, her heart pumping out of pure adrenaline. Oh, they’re right behind us.

As if on cue, the two started sprinting.

She didn’t knew if this was a good thing or not with how the culprit behind them gave chase, the snipping growing loud enough that she could hear it echo in the empty alleyway, followed by the death rattle that haunts them.

To think that there would be a sound that’s scarier than the ones she’s heard before… It was an experience she wouldn’t forget, that’s for sure.

As the two sprinted off to safety, Kirara raised her head and noticed the house they were approaching from afar. It felt odd to see it standing in the middle of nowhere, but something seem to be compelling her to get in with Kazuha.

“Over there!” she yelled to Kazuha, ignoring the look he gave her for forgetting what he mentioned. “We can go there!”

Kazuha turned his head to where she was pointing and nodded, now dashing with her towards their next location and barging through the door.

The deafening thump echoed in the empty house, though it wasn’t long until she could hear the rushed footsteps and slam right behind her—possibly from her companion, who had slammed the door and kept their perpetrator outside. The rattle seem to continue, causing her to shiver.

Shuffling up and sitting on the floor, Kirara looked down…

… And noticed that the package was ripped.

Oh, no!

“Oh God, the package’s ripped—”

In the midst of her panic in trying to fix it, she saw the cover. The book didn’t have a title or author, but there was a symbol that many would recognize so easily.

…

Kirara could only stare at the symbol as she stopped fixing the now ripped package paper, finding it odd to see it etched in such a way. There was something she feels so drawn to it, but she didn’t understood why.

Was she forgetting something?

Was—

Then, it hits her.

The memories hit her like a truck, everything seemingly falling into place. It was so sudden, so piercing— it hurts her to remember all at once.

With a grimace, she reached over to hold her head and clutch on her hair. It was so painful, she couldn’t handle it. It felt like someone was prying into her and shoving God knows what.

Despite the pain, she didn’t kick the book off out of reflex but held on, trying to make sense of everything she was hit all at once. And when the last parts of the pain left, she felt the urge to breathe return to her.

…

I remember now.

I remember dying in the source, and someone shot me before I can get to the last ritual.

I remember the God calling out to me and everything going into flames.

… Oh, no. I failed, haven’t I?

“Are you alright?” Kazuha asked her, walking over to her to kneel by her level. “It’s still outside, so we may have to stay here for the night.”

Ah… I should’ve known.

“I… I’m fine,” she tells Kazuha, but she kept the book close to her. “Maybe we can explore the house for a bit. It’d be terrible if we stick around in one place, won’t it?”

My head hurts.

Kazuha’s brows furrowed in concern, but he nodded.

“I’ll take care of the ground floor, then. I entrust that you can handle the second floor?”

“Mhm,” the girl nodded, but as Kazuha left, she looked down at the book and furrowed her brows.

I need to summon them again. I need answers.

“Wait, so this reality I’m in is… Different than the one I died in?”

“Yes, that’s exactly it,” the God beside them replied, their many hands reaching over to examine the book. “When one reality dies, another is born. It’s a miracle that you can recall from what happened before; many don’t, even if they were my followers.”

…

Kirara has a lot of questions in regards to the topic of ‘realities’, and from the looks of things, she’s about to get more than she asked for.

Like now.

“.. What happened to the one I died in?” she asked them, watching them wince. Placing down the ritual book, they pondered over what to say, their eyes closed.

…

“… The book has been burnt, but your killer managed to recover a few pages that were left untouched by the flames,” they explained. “Thankfully, they didn’t go too far before I killed them myself. Though, that did mean that the reality that you died in couldn’t sustain itself as I lost my grip on it when I killed them.”

… Ah, so that means it’s considered ‘lost’, she thought bitterly. I couldn’t do the last one…

“… The last ritual was meant to be a ‘last cause’ for you, too. In the chance that the reality unravels itself in its flames,” they clarified, which caused her to perk up.

“And it’s one you said you couldn’t guarantee my safety, right?”

“Mhm. With that ritual, it… Er, let’s say when your reality is ‘lost’ and endures the process of returning to not being ‘lost’, you won’t be erased.”

…

“Erased?!” she asked, baffled. “What do you mean?”

“My power is… Dangerous. When you did the uprooting ritual, you only have so much time to do the last one to save your ass,” they explained bluntly, giving her a pointed look. “It also means that you can’t rely on me to do it; you heard me say that I’m losing my grip, no? You’re essentially one foot to death’s door unless you do the ritual and execute it flawlessly.”

She could only feel her heart stop at that.

“And if I didn’t, I’ll die?”

“Exactly. It’s the same if you did it before the Uprooting— one of the things you need to do needs the flames you started, and God knows why you want to do it after.”

Oh, God, my head hurts even more, she thought, grimacing. Reaching over to cover her face, she let out a whine.

“I didn’t knew it’d be so stressful…!”

…

The God sighed and moved over to gently pat Kirara’s head, as if to comfort the poor soul tied to them.

“Such is the way of dealing with Gods,” they said, as though it was meant to cheer her up. All it did was make Kirara look in disdain, not liking the idea of dealing with the mess she’s in. “But that’s besides the point. In the meantime, I will be here to assist you. I don’t want you to die again.”

“I hope so… I don’t feel like facing anymore cultists,” she whined. “I even have Kazuha with me, and I don’t know if—”

“Kazuha?” they interrupted her, their brows furrowed. “Who is he?”

… Do they know him?

“Kazuha’s a foreigner,” she began, raising an eyebrow. “He’s been staying here for a year, though he didn’t come by when his aunt died. Do you—”

“Ah, I see,” they answered, sighing. “I’m… Aware of who he is. Though, I wasn’t expecting an ex-cultist to be here when his God went missing.”

Her eyes widened at that.

“Ex-cultist?!”

“Yes, Kaedehara… He used to be a cultist,” they began, rubbing the back of their neck. “He’s a follower of my companion—the God of World Creation. The longest of many. You can say that he’s been under their tutelage when they were just a myth, with me.”

Oh my… I didn’t knew that!

“However, since my partner went missing, many of their following had turned against each other. Some went insane and began a crusade in hopes of ‘creating their ideal God’, while others… Left,” they concluded.

“Kazuha is one of those that left. However, unlike the cultists you’ve most likely seen, he’s a guy with his head on his shoulders. If there’s one thing I can vouch for, he’s got enough sense to not be an idiot.”

There was something that flashed on their face, but Kirara couldn’t pick up on it as they moved away from her. Grabbing the book, they handed it back to her, their expression returning to one of indifference.

“Anyway, that’s enough for chit-chat. We have rituals to go through, and I entrust that you won’t be a fool to fall for the same trick twice with him around. Let’s go.”

“R-Right!”

@/navxry | do not repost my works | 2024 | entry for may ebg 2024 by @/xianyoon