#I have to pretend to be ok in front of customers and children

[scarletpiano]

The thing about grief is you still have bills to pay

[alpydk]

Cabinet of Oddities - Part 4 (Fanfic)

TavxGale (Custom)

Extra time means more writing and I just needed to get some more Gale into this story. (1.8k words - WTF??)

Summary: Gale falls slowly behind the group causing Nana to become concerned.

Ao3 Link - Chapter 4 Ao3 Link (Whole)

Nana didn’t like the Risen Road. The air smelt of goblins and there was no shelter. It was all just open rock and cliff faces. “Are we there yet?” She whined immaturely.

“Do you see a goblin camp anywhere or a one-horned tiefling?” Wyll replied.

“No.” She said dejectedly. “Fine…” 

The group had been travelling at a reasonable pace but since reaching the road had begun to spread out. Astarion, trying to be as far from Nana as he could, had moved up to the front with Shadowheart. Wyll had been stuck playing babysitter, as he saw it, and Gale unusually had begun to lag quietly behind. He’d complained of his knees aching a little the day before so nobody thought anything of it but Nana could not shift the nagging feeling in the back of her mind. “Oh no, it appears I have dropped my, um, shoe.” She exclaimed in a long drawn and loud voice.

Wyll sighed exasperatedly “Your shoe? The one that’s on your foot?” He paused momentarily and decided to seize the opportunity for a break. “You know what, you take care of your shoes. You can always catch up.” He walked off at speed to catch up to the others muttering under his breath the words “Gods, give me patience.”

Nana knelt, pretending to play with her shoe, watching him walk away and then turned her head seeing Gale slowly approaching. His handsome face looked different. Like something was weighing him down. Not just in his mind but in his body as well. She felt a pang of concern for him and stood as he got closer. She went to speak but as normal with Gale, the words just struggled to come.

“Nana, as much as I’ve enjoyed talking to you these last few days, today I just need a little peace and tranquillity.” Gale’s voice seemed strained, he grimaced as he walked. Nana knew these features all too well.

“You’re in pain. Your knees again?” She spoke with concern. Her mind was racing, she was fighting the tadpole in her head from accidentally sharing the memories that flooded her brain. The poison is spreading. He’s dying, I can’t save him. Don’t die, please don’t die. She shook her head and looked into Gale’s deep eyes, almost pleading with him to talk to her.

Gale looked away from her, feeling the pressure. Though he’d grown close to the group since the start of his travels, he didn't know if he was ready to share everything with them but the ever-growing hunger in his chest was becoming too much to cope with alone. He’d have to tell them eventually or he would have to leave them. “No, not my knees.” He considered continuing but didn’t know if Nana would even understand what he was going to say.  

“I would say maybe it was something you ate, but then you’re the one who does all the cooking and it sure is better than any concoction I make. Last spring I made the most horrible of dishes. That rat was good when I killed it but apparently when I mixed it with grease from that ooze…” She could see the colour draining from Gale’s face. “Sorry, I’m rambling. But I’m guessing it’s not food-related?”

“Not food either.” Gale stopped for a moment and looked at Nana. He saw something in her that he couldn’t explain. He’d seen her try to help everyone they had come across, from tiefling children that she was robbed by, to stepping in front of an arrow to save a goblin who then insulted her. All life seemed precious to her, so maybe his would too. “Nana…Why don’t we take a little break? Allow ourselves a few moments of rest. Gives me a chance to talk to you about something, well, rather important.” 

Nana nodded. “Ok, Nana calm calm. It’s just a break. It’s nothing serious. He’s not going to kiss you. Gods, I’d like him to kiss me. His eyes are so dreamy.” Her voice rushed on, just a never-ending stream of thoughts spilt out into reality. She took a seat on a nearby rock and patted a little patch next to her signalling for Gale to join her. 

Gale gave a subtle smile as he sat beside her. He wasn’t going to object to the words she said but he wasn’t sure how he felt about her. Especially right now as his muscles ached and his mind tore in two. “Have you ever realised that you say everything out loud?” 

“It’s been mentioned to me before. I tried to keep it all in my head but it gets a bit messy after a while. If I say it out loud then it keeps room for the important things.” Nana tried to explain it the best she could. This was the truth. As a changeling trying to keep one form for a long period, trying to keep the memories together, the personalities all separate, and then trying to keep constant control proved to be exhausting and if she kept everything in her head she surely would have gone mad like other changelings had been known to.

“And what important things would they happen to be?” Gale asked with curiosity.

Him. The tadpole flickered in her mind. “Oh you know, cooking recipes and naughty poetry.” She smiled, her green eyes sparkling brightly in the sunlight. “But you wanted to talk to me about something important. I’m guessing it’s neither of those topics.”

Gale gazed into her eyes, lost for a brief moment, and then nodded in recognition of her remark. “We’ve been on the road together for a while now, haven't we? Survived some perils, overcame some obstacles. I’ve seen you demonstrate remarkable guile and courage.”

“I’ve just been doing what I do. I wouldn’t say any of it is courageous. Unless you’re talking about that couple from the shack, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to shake that image.” Nana gave a shudder at the thought of the ogre and bugbear they had encountered the previous day.

“No, no, not that.” He chuckled. “No, I believe, I’ve grown to trust you.” His voice was soft and sincere.

Nana tried to read him but could see no ulterior motive. This was new to her. Her face was one of scepticism and she leaned in slightly to try and hear him better. “Hm, I thought you trusted me anyway, and that's why you let me stir the cooking in the evenings.”

He looked at her with affection and felt the orb hum. He pushed down the painful sensation that ran through his chest and sighed deeply. He needed to tell her. “I did, I do. Either way, the reason I make a point of saying this is that I’ve grown confident enough to tell you something I’ve yet to tell another living soul. Except for my cat.”

Nana stayed quiet listening intently to the words he spoke. 

“You see, I have this…condition. Very different from the parasite we share, but just as deadly. Every so often I need to get my hands on a powerful magical item and absorb the Weave inside.” His tone was serious, he had tried to explain it as vaguely and as simply as he could for her and he hoped she would grasp what he was telling her.

“So…You need to eat shoes?”

“Eat shoes? That’s what you took away from that? It’s not so much eating as it is absorbing the magical energies that are within the items. I can say no more on the matter - not now anyway, just trust me when I say it’s all of vital importance.” He stared deep into her eyes, looking for the understanding he sought, hoping she would not reject him in his time of need. The pain in his chest radiated throughout his body and he tried his best to ignore it. 

Nana’s face was full of concern for him. All she wanted was to help. “And this is why you’re in pain? You need something magical?” 

Gale nodded solemnly in response. “I know it’s a lot to ask of you but I wouldn’t press this without good reason.”

Nana swung around her pack, settling it on her lap and started digging through it. She chucked out random items, books, a music box which gave an off-note clang as it hit the floor, and a half-eaten apple she’d found earlier in the day. Eventually, she pulled out a small magic necklace and offered it over to Gale. “Here, the tiefling girl gave it to me but I’ve no use for it. You can have it.” Gale looked into her eyes. He placed one hand under the locket and the other above her hand and cupped them closely together. Nana could feel the warmth from his touch and her heart began to quicken its beat. Her voice hitched and her cheeks flushed red. “You’re touching me” she gasped. 

“Apologies.” Gale lessened his grip and took the locket from her. He held it to the marking on his chest, one that for so long Nana had wanted to run her fingers along, and he leaned back. His face appeared to be in pain and the orb glowed a brilliant purple. A moment later the necklace was gone but Gale sat with a relieved expression. He sighed deeply. “That hit the spot. I can feel it work. The magic is like a lullaby that sings to sleep the demon inside.”  

Nana’s face grew concerned. A demon . The tadpole twisted and writhed wanting to share the image in her mind.

“A metaphorical demon I haste to point out. But no less dangerous - and no less bound to wake up again to continue its ravages. Such is the nature of all monsters.”

“You’re going to be okay, aren't you? We can fix it, maybe find a cure?” She gave him a hopeful look.

Gale looked away unsure. He had no answer for this. His year of research and hiding locked in his tower had brought very few answers. He couldn’t expect to find them here. He turned back to her, his face brighter than it had been the previous few days. “Sincerely though: I understand I ask a lot from you with few answers in return, but in time all will be told.” 

“I’m just glad it helped. Tell me, if you need anything else, I’ve got quite the collection of nicknacks and doodads in my bag now. I’m sure I can stop you from getting hungry.” Nana pointed the pack at Gale as if to show him proudly of her collection.

He smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind. But now I think we should continue moving. The day is vanishing before our very eyes and the warmth of the sun will no longer lie on our faces.” Gale stood and held out his hand to Nana.

She looked at it briefly but threw her pack over her back and stood without taking it. A brief flash of rejection flashed over Gale's face but he ignored the accompanying thought that came along with it. He would just need to be satisfied with the trust he had gained from her today. Nothing more, nothing less.

[typellblog]

ok i decided i might as well post some of my original writing here idk if anyone wants to read it

Sister Lethe felt the thrum of divinity on the girl as soon as she walked into the room. The girl herself made no effort to disguise it: her cloak swept out behind her despite the lack of wind, her footsteps audible throughout the room even on carpet. Her face was built for being admired from a distance. Anyone who tried to make eye contact with her was ignored.

Even without the girl’s somewhat unique relationship towards the Charitable Order complicating matters, Sister Lethe wouldn’t have blamed the brothers and sisters of the front office for letting her in without a word. It wasn’t every day that one was directly confronted by a Curse-Bearer.

The four or five other members of the Order that were present in the parlor looked towards Sister Lethe, the highest-ranked member currently residing within the commune, and by ancient right and custom the one who ought to deal with this situation. She barely supressed a sigh and stepped forward, adopting the same tone of voice she used with recalcitrant children.

“Miss Elspeth Steel-Cursed, I assume? If you would come this way. I’d like to speak to you.”

The furnishings of Sister Lethe’s private meeting room were rather drab for receiving someone who was understood by numerous religious doctrines to be the reincarnation of a god, but the Order had since its founding adopted a first-among-equals approach. Sister Lethe wouldn’t pretend that being effectively the leader of Talis Commune, by population one of the Order’s largest stationary branches, didn’t afford her certain privileges, but she was firm in her insistence that decoration would not be one of them.

Elspeth Steel-Cursed, for her part, seemed unconcerned, taking a seat and leaning back in a casually cross-legged pose. Looking at her closely the girl couldn’t have been much older than twenty years, and – Sister Lethe realised with a start that she didn’t have a left arm. Its absence had been concealed by the cloak, but after the garment had been laid down on her chair, the skintight black costume she was wearing made it obvious that her arm had been severed a little below the shoulder.

It could, perhaps, have been a birth defect, Sister Lethe knew, but violence was always a good bet, when it came to the Cursed.

“So?” It took her a moment to register the girl had spoken. A clipped, no-nonsense tone of voice, delivering none of the usual flatteries. Elspeth wasn’t a person of many words, it seemed.

Sister Lethe, on the other hand, had to take a moment to collect her thoughts, avoid speaking too much into the silence that the other had left.

“It is my understanding that you’ve made a habit of visiting our Order’s communes, of late.” Although ‘taking refuge’ might have been a more accurate description. A string of very public incidents – in different company Sister Lethe would call them crimes – had brought the Steel-Curse’s bearer to the attention of the Empire’s highest. The girl in front of her was wanted by every authority on the continent. There were even rumours that the Seven Swords were on her trail.

Elspeth shrugged.

“You lot run a tight operation. There are worse places to stay for a few days.”

“We do not, as a rule, freely harbour terrorists and revolutionaries.”

Elspeth snorted.

“The things they call me . . .”

“My point, young lady,” snapped Sister Lethe – and was abruptly interrupted. Chair flung aside, lone arm stretched across the table, face a little too close to Lethe’s – Elspeth Steel-Cursed grinned at the older woman.

“Please do let me know what your point is, because as far as I can tell you lot have a standing policy to let me do whatever I want, on account of the Curse in me being Dorian Greycloak’s castoff.”

Dorian King-Questioner, Dorian Stone-Breaker. The Order’s founder, and someone who had a thousand years ago been considered one of the twenty-one gods that walked this earth.

Most of the gods were long dead, but their Curses remained.

“Well?” asked the girl, her green eyes glimmering with divinity. “Do I have the bearing of a god, Lethe?”

Sister Lethe retracted her previous assumption. Elspeth Steel-Cursed was not a woman of few words. She simply had a flair for the dramatic.

“That is a misconception.” Sister Lethe stated. “The divinity of our founder, Dorian, is not in question, but the Order does not worship or hold him in higher esteem than any other man because of this.”

“Oh?” Elspeth said slowly, breaking off from the staring contest and dragging her seat back into place.

“The reason why his teachings, writings and tales of his actions are passed down among us even to this day is because of his exceptional wisdom and goodness.”

“And?” Elspeth asked, waving her hand as if to hurry Lethe up.

“You are not a god, or even the reincarnation of one,” Lethe said, keeping her voice level. “You are just an unfortunate child branded with a power beyond her ability to control.”

“Oh, I control it, Lethe. If I didn’t, I imagine you would be quite dead right now.”

Try as she might, Sister Lethe could not detect even the hint of a lie in the girl’s pale countenance.

Seemingly content with having rendered Sister Lethe temporarily speechless, Elspeth continued.

“If I am not held in any particular regard by the Order, for what reason have I been so graciously accommodated in the past months? None of your leaders have struck me as very impressive so far, but I doubt they would have acquiesced to my demands so readily without cause.”

Sister Lethe sighed, breathing in deeply.

“The following is paraphrased from the Founder’s Last Letter, a secret document circulated within the Order, which we believe his last written communication before the Burning several days later:

My mind has made peace with my demise, but I fear my soul has not . . . the Blessing that I bear was not intended for, and in any case cannot be handled by, ordinary humans . . . I know this is a selfish request, but I feel it is my responsibility . . . for those afflicted by what part of my influence still remains in the world, may the Order forevermore be a most welcoming home to them.”

The sound Sister Lethe heard was the grinding of Elspeth Steel-Cursed’s teeth. The girl looked up from her clenched fist.

“I never asked for that, you old bastard.” The words didn’t have the same bite that Sister Lethe was beginning to expect from the girl, though.

Sister Lethe decided it was an appropriate time to ring the bell for tea. Refreshments on demand was one of the small vanities she allowed herself.

If she had thought she’d done enough to get Elspeth to lower her guard, though, she was entirely mistaken. The girl didn’t even glance at the cup she was presented with, and remained as frustrating to talk to as before.

“If I may ask, how did you lose your arm?” Lethe tried, having exhausted any less offensive angle she thought might get the girl to open up to her.

Elspeth was silent for a moment.

“You are familiar with the effects of the Steel-Curse, yes?”

Sister Lethe was. While they varied by incarnation, the Curse generally manifested as the ability to-

“-turn my body into steel.” Elspeth finished the sentence, seemingly allergic to letting Lethe get the last word on anything.

It boasted the greatest defensive ability of any known Curse, making the wielder impervious to most injury.

“Doesn’t it sound useful? But there are two sides to everything. Lethe, have you ever considered what would happen if one part of the body, and one part only, was made steel, the rest remaining flesh?”

Sister Lethe had not. If anything, she would just imagine the steel part of the body blending seamlessly into the rest. But Elspeth bringing it up in this context meant . . .

“Steel has no bones or veins, no blood or connective tissue. How I even live while clad in it is a mystery that the most advanced magecraft has tried and failed to answer. But that mystery did not save me when I failed to turn one part of my body back.”

Elspeth’s face quirked into a smile of amusement.

“I’m surprised it even remained attached for that long. Funnily enough, it turned to flesh again after falling off.”

She leaned in closer again, as if confiding a secret between friends.

“Not that it was much help to me as I was bleeding out on the cold earth with nobody nearby to aid me.”

Sister Lethe leaned in despite herself as Elspeth’s voice became even softer and quieter.

“That’s not even the best part, though. You see, this was actually the first time the Curse awakened in me. No wonder I didn’t know how to use it properly.”

Bright green eyes locked directly onto Lethe’s. Almost hissing the last line.

“I was eight years old.”

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

please forgive ellie shes an edgelord

this is the main setting i would write in, she'd be one of the main characters

[forensicated]

Smiffina Episodes & Dan Boxing: Episode 456

"Morning, my boys!" Gina smiles on seeing Dan approaching with Will. They've qualified for the Wallace Cup in boxing and both are fighting that night. Dan is jittery because it'll be his first non-steroid helped fight since he injured his shoulder during the last competition.

Kezia is at a shout where there's been an arson attack at a foster carers house that morning and Smithy is knocking on doors in the street and moves to help he as she's making a meal out of carrying out a box of the children's belongings and a book falls from it.

"Carrie's War..." Smithy muses. "Yeah, must have read that book a hundred times as a kid." "I was more of a Beano man meself.""Why do I not find that hard to believe?"

He later finds Kezia standing lost in thought in the back of the foster carers house holding a toy and staring into space. He asks if she's ok and if she wants to talk but they are interrupted by a loud row out of the front of the property. Smithy ends up having to rearrest the man who was on bail for potentially starting the fire that morning for assault. He just so turns out to be the boyfriend of the carers daughter.

"I've dropped enough hints..." June sighs, wanting Rod to ask her to move in with him and his kids. "That's where your problem is!" Smithy reasons. "We're men, we don't do hints!" He grins before telling her to ask him outright.

Dan is helping CID with a sting to catch a conman who is selling bits of black paper and a solution to people daft enough to believe him. He shows them that once the solution is used to wipe the paper it's actually money that he claims has been smuggled in from the US and coated in black paint to avoid customs. Whilst some of the paper is legitimately cash - most of it is just blank paper. Dan tries to cover his back, saying the sting might overrun and that means that he won't be able to be at the boxing match and to make his apologies if that happens. It's obvious that's what he wants to happen!

Dan is placed undercover as the boyfriend of the next victim - and Tammy clearly likes what she sees. She's clearly trying to flirt with him as Phil and Mickey listen in amused. Tammy and Dan watch as the suspect demonstrates how to remove the paint and pretend to fall for his con. Dan puts up a bit of resistance to look unsure and then finally agrees, claiming they're getting married and need the extra cash it brings (£3K and a bit of work to 'get' £5K) as he leaves, Dan radios in to Phil and Mickey and they arrest him outside. Dan brings the suspect in and Tammy calls him and invites him back with Dan pretending he's going for a 'massage' ahead of the fight to Will as cover.

Kezia tells Smithy that she was in foster care too and thats why she was lost in thought that morning but she's absolutely fine. They head off to the boxing match - where Will has already arrived but Dan is nowhere to be seen. Gina says she's going to kill him - he's got 5 minutes to arrive or he has to forfeit the match. He's dressing after spending the afternoon with Tammy - and despite not leaving the station in his uniform - he has his uniform there...! And then when he arrives at the gym for the match straight after he's in the blue tshirt he was when he left the station with no sign of his uniform. 🤦🏻‍♀️

He'd purposely timed it so that he'd miss his fight - but it just so happens that Will swapped times with him so he has time - but he has to get changed immediately. Will tells Dan he knows he didn't go for a massage and that he did it on purpose. He tells him to believe in himself and that he can do it, despite what his head is telling him. Dan goes on to take part - and by majority decision of the judges after there's no knockout - he wins!

Episode 458

Tammy calls at the station to see Dan. It appears he's ignoring her phone calls and that their casual isn't all that it could be. That morning he arrived at work late for the second time in a week after 'sleeping through his alarm'. Now Tammy is in the middle of the carpark at the front of the station telling Dan how he's moody, tired all the time, and he's uh... unable to perform. Dan explains that he was taking steroids for the boxing and has since stopped and it's having an effect whilst his body clears of the effects. Tammy tells him he's just not fun to be around right now and walks straight off.

Later, Dan opens a door and yelps in pain - his shoulder is playing up again. He finishes for the day with Lewis who teases him about his 'lady friend' whos call he ignored whilst out with him earlier. He tells Lewis that it's all over and done with and he's going to the gym rather than the pub. Lewis asks him if he's ok because it's "been painful watching you these last few days, it's like Reg on downers...." Dan forces a smile and tells him he's fine, he's not been on his game but he's absolutely fine. He reaches into his locker and pulls out the bottle of steroids, looking at them for a few seconds before putting them in his bag and leaving.

[leviiattacks]

CASHIER LEVI AND LIKE THE READER IS THE CUSTOMER AND IT’S LIKE THEY HAVE A CRUSH ON EACHTOHER

author note :: honestly not my best at all..... like at all..... this was actually pretty good but the entire draft got deleted and i just lost all my effort but i felt bad for starting it and not completing it for anon so you may take whatever i have managed to salvage. i hope u enjoy it :’( i am extremely sick rn and yeah writing is the only break i am currently getting from anything :-) SO AGAIN I’ M SORRY ANON..... i may write a 10k + word fic on this though so i can redeem myself bc this is just disappointing 😭

word count :: 3.3k

every single thursday you stop by ackermart. maybe it’s because the day is convenient for you or perhaps it’s because of a certain cashier that works the evenings...

HAHA it’s got nothing to do with a cashier why would it have anything to do with a cashier? :-)

today is like any other. you walk through the fresh produce aisle then proceed to make your way towards the bakery section picking up a loaf of bread

it’s stupid, you know it is but... you think you’ve worked up enough courage to speak to him today!!

and who is him you may ask?

levi at till number four. his tired eyes always happen to pierce into yours and his calloused thumbs brush past your skin when you hand him your rewards card

levi is what his bright red name tag says and although he doesn’t look like a levi you’d like to think your crush isn’t stealing someone’s identity so you believe that it’s his real name

anxiously fiddling with your basket you’re beginning to think this was a horrible idea

the girl ahead of you is flirting up a storm with him and although he’s not reciprocating it by any means you still feel deterred

levi bags the last of her groceries and looks up at her when she asks for a way to contact him. he doesn’t look mad... just bored?

“ma’am. this is an ackermart i don’t think it’s appropriate you ask me for my number. the customer service line is listed on our website.”

the woman raises a brow looking completely flabbergasted. okay, if everything before this wasn’t a warning THIS sure was

she stomps off when she realises levi isn’t kidding and you think you’d feel bad for her maybe if she was more respectful about it

“next customer.” levi calls over his shoulder and you shuffle forward pretending to be engrossed in your phone

“cash or card?” he asks plainly.

you hear the BEEP of your groceries being scanned and think on it for a while before replying with “cash”

you’re clearly pretty good at your pretend to be totally into your phone act because levi tries to get your attention but you don’t hear what he has to say till the third time he repeats himself

but even then you’re still unsure what it is he’s said????

looking down you see his hand is stuck out in front of you and now you’re even more confused

faltering for a second you look at his palm and then speak

“um, i guess your hand is nice? it’s pretty big compared to the rest of you actually.”

“i was asking for your cash?” he says and now you look at his palms in mortification

gasping you yANK your hand into your purse as you laugh awkwardly fishing around to find your money

“oh, OH i knew that. just kidding!! i mean- i meant that thing about your hand?? but i thought it was- i funny? yes the joke funny? i’m-”

he leans back into his spinning chair and sighs contently. “you’re not making much sense peaches.”

“pe- peaches??” you repeat. no way you’ve heard that correct

levi lazily points at the abundance of the aforementioned fruit in your grocery bags

“you must love em.”

“i, well yeah i do like peaches but i also like...” um??? what food would make you look sophisticated and professional?

OH YEAH

“FRENCH CUISINE :-)!!!!” you say rather proudly

“...cool. i guess.” levi hands you your grocery bag which is basically an invitation asking for you to get out

he doesn’t seem mad but he’s definitely going to look back at this encounter and laugh his ass off at how stupid you are

hanging your head down low in embarrassment you make your way out towards your car

there’s always next time!! maybe you can practice in the mirror yeah that does sound like it would help!!!

okay so.

it is officially next time.

actually you never got the opportunity to practice in front of the mirror because you chickened out of looking like an idiot even if it was in the privacy of your own home

but!!! you did try to practice some cool pick up lines because who doesn’t like a good pickup line or two??

the two mini milk cartons in your hand and the pack of doughnuts you have tucked under your arm aren’t too heavy so you aren’t too worried about having to wait in the line

for some reason the guy in front of you keeps turning around and glancing at you as if you don’t even exist

you are not casper the ghost

also casper is a little boy and you definitely aren’t a little boy

finally after a good five minutes the man ahead of you is having his stuff scanned but he’s STILL doing it. even levi notices and gives him an odd look which borders annoyance and anger.

“can i pay for your groceries? maybe walk you to your car?” the stranger asks suddenly

so that’s what this is, he’s simply taken an interest in you

my god this is new but it is uncomfortable and you’d rather say no

“oh, i actually walked here and no thanks i can pay for my own. enjoy the rest of your day!!” you hope your white lie is enough to fool the man but instead of agreeing as any other person would he looks majorly deceived

“i saw you in the parking lot.” ok this is getting a bit too uncomfortable for your liking

“c’mon i’m offering to buy your shit too?”

his voice is raising and you’re not sure what exactly you can do but thankfully for you the manager steps in and takes him away before any more threats can be made

the man had taken up so much of your attention you almost forgot levi was even there until you turned back around

“do you want a member of staff to accompany you to your car? it’s getting dark out.” levi’s comment helps ease your nerves and you try to laugh off what just happened

“i’m good :-)” you say shaking a little. you’re unsure if it’s the cold or the fact you still haven’t completely calmed down

“you sure peaches?”

“i haven’t bought any peaches this time.”

“you’re still peaches to me.” your cheeks flush at his confidence

wait, maybe this is your chance. you’re the last person in his line and they’re closing up for the day so...

“could you walk me to my car?”

and to your surprise even before you can take back what you’ve said levi agrees

it stays like that for a while.

every thursday levi walks you to your car by the end of his shift, all the while the two of you exchange a few words together

like last week you asked him what his favourite colour was (he said purple) you’ve learnt about his hobbies (he’s a decent cook), you’ve even found out about some of his own personal problems. he had mentioned suffering with insomnia in passing.

to be honest each and every time he walks you to your car he has to notice that you begin to park further and further away from the front entrance. but if he does notice he doesn’t say a word about it

“is that all you’re checking out?” you ask with a cheeky grin plastered across your face

looking down at your new dress your lopsided grin is far from fading away any time soon. you especially picked this one out after asking levi what his favourite colour was last week

god. this is so embarrassing but never actually have you had a crush this huge

levi who’s sat behind the counter shoots you a look which almost seems to be on the verge of uninterested. he isn’t entertaining this at all or this is just his typical bored face, you can’t really tell

BUT..... you still have a huge crush on him and you aren’t one to give up this easily

for the record you don’t harass him or anything, just the occasional hint is thrown around but he’s either really dense or doesn’t care

his expression does you no favours, you can’t tell what he’s thinking half the time

“you’re always buying energy drinks... might want to cut down on those they’re no good for you.”

warmth blooms in your chest. he’s just saying it to make small talk but the fact he even thinks to bring that up has your heart fluttering

“i- well- yeah i will!! just have a few overdue essays to get over with :-)” twiddling your thumbs together you think that makes your nerves too obvious so you begin to scratch at the back of your neck

if anything is a dead give away it’s your constant neck scratching, thankfully levi hasn’t picked up on it

“so you wore purple today?” his eyes linger on the thin straps of your dress and you feel the goosebumps rise up onto your skin immediately

“oh yeahhhh-”

“did i tell you yellow was my favourite colour last week?” he asks holding up a neon yellow pack of crisps and for the first time you see him smile

he looks so ?!|>\€|^ pretty ?!/)/&

wait?? yellow??

“didn’t you say purple?”

“no?” he crosses his arms playfully over his chest thinking for a bit

“maybe i did but no it’s really yellow.” he says as he hands you your bag

nodding your head you smile “yeahhhh sure it is.”

damn, now you’re going to have to find a yellow dress just to make him revert back to purple because who even likes yellow?? that’s a deal breaker right there??

update

it’s been two weeks!!

and a yellow dress has been found and secured B-)

it’s been a pretty rough day at work and you need to desperately collect a pack of green tea and get going

you don’t know when exactly being a secretary meant you had to babysit your boss’ children but that’s what the last week has entailed

being made to work overtime to this extent has had an effect on you and you’re ready to head home as soon as you swing by ackermart

not seeing levi for a week made you a little :-( because to be honest he’s the highlight of your thursday evening BUT!! you’ll be able to see him today at least

walking in through the entrance you’re met with connie smiling right at you, he holds the door open for you and smile back greeting him

“so you didn’t come last week...?”

it’s weird for him to ask that, after all you don’t really speak to anyone here apart from levi, you’re surprised you’re enough of a regular to be known by name

“oh i didn’t think anyone would notice? but yeah i had to work overtime you know what boss’ are like.” groaning you crouch down and look at the pot noodles on display

“i didn’t notice it. boss man did.”

“boss man?” you ask feeling out of loop

“levi.” connie answers as he hops into the backroom

????

isn’t he just a cashier??

“you still look confused.” connie remarks as he heads back out with a cardboard box full of pringle’s tubes

“levi’s the boss man, this is his store. he literally only ever mans the cash register on thursday evening because of you.”

at that you start laughing because it makes no sense at all to you

there’s no way connie is being serious

“good one.” you say as you stand up with a chicken flavored noodle in your hand

“i’m not kidding?”

turning around you give him a skeptical look

he sighs and shakes his head.

“listen. me and the part timers are tired of making bets on when he’ll give you his number and i bet that it would happen today so if you could confess to each other that would be perfect!!!”

“who said i like-”

“anyone with a brain can tell you both like each other.” he’s rolled his eyes so far into the back of his head you begin to take him a little more seriously now

“i... did i make it that obvious??” you’re directly facing him trying to get out as much information as you can

“yeah. very. at least levi wasn’t as bold.”

“i think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick he definitely doesn’t like me.”

connie gives you an “are you fucking with me?” look and you look away trying to distract yourself with the the canned goods lining the shelves

“he was worried sick when you didn’t come in for the entire week. he even asked me if he scared you away.”

“maybe i’m just his favourite customer?”

“favourite customer my ass he has a crush on YOU. confess.”

playing around with the ends of your sleeves connie sees he’s fighting a losing battle unless he gives you definitive solid proof

“please... i’ll get free barbecue if i win the bet and i’m kinda broke rn :-(” okay, you do want connie to eat well and be treated and maybe this is a good thing. if levi doesn’t like you then you can move on!!

“i’ll think about it.”

before connie can continue talking you make a beeline towards the tea aisle whilst throwing a “see you next time!” over your shoulder.

by the time you’ve gathered all of your groceries your basket is full to the brim. you’ve been lingering as much as you can out of fear but you think you’ve collected just enough courage to ask for his number

looking at the cash register levi is sat there and your shoulders slump. he’s probably going to say no and you’re going to look like a huge loser.

right as you’re about to take a step towards him levi finally spots you and gives you one look before standing up from his seat

“hi!” you wave at him

“...hey!” he smiles wide but he bites it back pretending it was never there in the first place

placing your basket in front of him he eyes what you’ve got

“hm... lots of peaches as per usual peaches.” the nickname that rolls of his tongue makes you tremble a little. will he call you that after you fuck everything up with this stupid confession?

his tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek when he gets to the heart shaped box of chocolates

“a gift for a friend? didn’t know you had those?” he teases as he scans the barcode

“gift for a crush!” you reply back enthusiastically as you dig through your wallet looking for your card

levi doesn’t respond for a few seconds and an awkward silence fills the air. you glance up to see him looking at you open mouthed in shock

“good luck.” he murmurs under his breath he’s not even returning your gaze at this point and is hurriedly scanning through your barcodes

“you okay?” you ask worrying about his mood

“yeah, yeah. great.” he’s quieter than usual.

the rest of your encounter is the same, levi silently bags your groceries and you can’t tell if this is a good or bad response.

just as he’s about to place the heart shaped box into your plastic bag you lunge forward holding his wrist to stop him

“no i don’t need those.”

he cocks his eyebrow upwards trying to analyse your expression and gain an understanding of your thoughts

“don’t tell me you’re chickening out. whoever it is will say yes.” he scoffs as he places the chocolates into the bag handing them over to you with a warm smile

there it is again. the fear returns and you swipe your tongue over your slightly dry lips.

no way.

is he telling you to confess to someone now? so he must not like you?

taking the bag away from him you scratch your neck out of habit and huff feeling frustrated

“he keeps giving me mixed signals.” you say hoping he catches your drift

“give him the chocolates and let him put two and two together. don’t even say anything.” his advice would be great if he weren’t the guy you were trying to confess to in real time

nodding you reach into the bag and bring the box back out before gently placing it in front of levi

“are you serious?” he asks and your face drops seeing the possible displeasure in his eyes

great, connie and the part timers just over analysed he doesn’t like you, obviously he doesn’t like you, why would he like you?

without looking back you hurry out, the embarrassment is eating you away now and the thought of ever returning to ackermart isn’t even feasible in your mind

at this point you may as well change your name, identity, dye your hair, have a few children and wear sunglasses the next time you come back so you look like a soccer mum and not the foolish y/n who thought they had a chance with their cute CASHIER???

god, you probably look like a creep

the sound of footsteps can be heard behind you and labored breaths follow before levi calls out for you

“please wait up.” he grumbles. slowing down your pace you let him catch up to you. he grabs at your wrist and sighs in relief

turning you see him savour the air

is this the part where he confesses he likes you too or—

“your receipt you forgot it.” he gasps as he opens your hand for you and places it into your palm

oh.

fingers clasping shut onto the paper you feel the humiliation seep into your pores

this.

is.

the.

worst.

moment.

of.

your.

life.

“open it.” he offer you a boyish smile and your nerves don’t let you find comfort in it

you grimace as you fold it open, you’re imagining he’s charged you an extra £100 for having unwanted feelings for him and if that’s the case you’ll die on the spot

but instead your eyes light up in joy. you’re pleasantly surprised

...

inside of the receipt is his phone number haphazardly sprawled across in black biro - you even double check by comparing it to the number for the customer service helpline

hello??

HELLO.?.!/)£ HIS NUMBER???

“if you just wanted to return the chocolate this is embarrassing.” he’s the one who’s now scratching at his neck and you find that he’s endearing this way

the streetlight from above illuminates him, the shadows cast over his face and his brows aren’t furrowed as they usually are

you open your mouth to reply but connie cuts you off unintentionally. he can be heard YELLING into his phone ecstatic that his plan has worked out

“I WIN!!! HA BBQ’S ON YOU JEAN!! MUST SUCK TO BE YOU.”

you and levi look at each other and laugh, reassuring the other of what has just happened.

well...

you guess this is the start of something new? maybe??

:-)

[finelinevogue]

I don’t have a specific request but I just really want to read another Little Moments blurb. Wether they’re teens or babies, I just love them. Have a great day!!

you have a great day toooo!! ok we can definitely do this!! there’s so many adventures they go on that i want to write about, but for now i hope you enjoy this blurb of the family going out for a pub meal;

oli - 21, felix - 19, belle - 16

It was family-night-Friday.

Well, actually, it was yours and Harry’s anniversary and supposedly date night, but your children had decided you’d all go out for the evening to celebrate instead. Whilst you were delighted over the idea of spending the night with your family, Harry wasn’t. He now, quote-on-quote, ‘can’t finger you under the restaurant table’, which is why he’s now in a sulk.

Chuffing man-child.

“Dad, can you at least pretend to look happy to be with your family?” Belle teased Harry, as you were all in the car on the way to the pub you were booked in for.

Harry was driving and Oli was sat in the front, since his legs were extremely long - a bit like his dad - to fit in the back. Unfortunately Felix got the short straw and had to sit in the back with you and Belle, Belle sitting in the middle as she was the smallest. Whenever you came to a red light Harry’s hand would slink behind his seat and dangle itself until you caught it with your hand and gave it a squeeze. It was the little moments like these that made you grateful for your family. For Harry.

Harry smiled and you knew it was real, because it reached his eyes, however he made it seem like it wasn’t real to antagonise his kids.

“Y’can pay for your own bloody meal at this rate.” Oli spoke, looking up from where he was messing around on his phone - probably looking at todays football scores.

“When did you become such a dad?” Felix laughed, scruffing with his brothers hair from where he was sat behind him.

“Dickhead.” Oli tried to reach out and smack his brother but Harry beat him to it and caught his sons fist.

“Oi, pack it in the both of you.” Harry pretended to be mad, but in reality he loved his children interacting with each other - even if they were play fighting.

You loved your little family. So much.

The rest of the journey was spent listening to whatever was on the radio. Belle had requested Capital FM, however much Harry would rather listen to BBC Radio 2. You heard Harry sing along to a couple of songs though, one being Niall’s new song ‘Our Song’. The journey was quiet but peaceful, allowing you and your thoughts to spend 10 minutes or so alone. The word passed by outside as you drove down some pretty sketchy country lanes, until you rounded the familiar corner that had ��The Cherry Tree’ situated on the left-hand side. It didn’t take long for Harry to pull in and park up, making sure he didn’t leave any valuable on display.

You climbed out of the car and waited for Belle to shuffle out herself, before shutting the door behind her. It was still a bloody Range Rover…

“Y’alright my love?” Harry asked you, locking the car and sliding his hand into yours to hold. His familiar warmth made you smile and your goosebumps melt away.

Your children walked off ahead, talking about goodness knows what with each other. It was funny to see how small Belle was next to her brothers. She, like you, was smaller than the men in her life and also smaller than you. She walked sandwiched between her brothers as they walked inside the restaurant.

“Never been better.” You answered truthfully, cuddling yourself into his side more. He was more than happy to accept you there.

Harry opened the door for you and you walked in after you. He kept a hand on your lower back as you walked to where your children were standing waiting for a waiter.

The room was large and really atmospheric. Lots of chatter from belly laughing customers and tiny toddlers who were on the loose. You spotted people lining up for a carvery and there was a separate area where a pizza oven burned away. As soon as you saw the meat and the roasts though, you knew that’s exactly what you wanted. And with a glass of red wine - divinity.

“Nice and warm in here.” You stated, having been quite cold outside. You spotted a wood burning fire in the corner and guessed that’s where the room got it’s hear from.

“Y’cold m’love?” Harry asked, furrowed brows over you and your health.

“Was. Better now.” You answered.

“It’s ‘cause we live in bloody England.” Felix huffed, stuffing his phone into his back pocket.

“Then move countries, please.” Oli answered in a playful tone, earning a light punch to his side from his brother.

“Idiots.” Belle rolled her eyes at the both of them.

“This is why you’re my favourite chid.” Harry answered jokingly, but everyone knew he secretly meant it. He often spent more time with his Belle and would treat her with a teensy tiny bit more love than his boys, but they were okay with that.

“Charming dad.” Oli added, shaking his head as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Someone’s been working out recently.” Harry pressed a finger onto Oli’s buff arm. He was visibly flexing, but he still did have a decent amount of built up muscle on him.

“Bro, not cool. We said we’d work out together.” Felix groaned, knowing he was slightly skinnier than Oli and the tabloids made sure to point it out. It didn’t phase him publicly, but you knew it did internally.

“Can work out with me, if you want?” You questioned Felix, already knowing the answer.

“No thanks mum. I don’t want to go to pilates or hot yoga with a bunch of mums.” He rolled his eyes, but earned a slap to the back of his head from his dad.

“Y’pest, be nice to y’mum.”

“It’s actually mixed gender for the hot yoga.”

“Well now you can say bye-bye to that class, missus.” Harry teased you, tightening his hold on your back. When Harry got jealous he got jealous - like pettily jealous. It was something you’d both worked on during the years together, but sometimes it did creep up. Like now.

“I’m not quitting that class, H. You can come with me if y’so bothered that other men and women might be staring at m’arse.”

“Y’bloody well bet i’m coming.” He told you, making you chuckle. He leant down and gave you a kiss to your lips, welcoming it with a needy kiss back since he rarely gave you lip kisses in public. This was pub in the middle of nowhere, so Harry felt safe to give you some loving.

“Ugh could you, like, not?” Felix groaned and his siblings followed. Harry pulled away with annoyance, a smile on your lips though.

“Y’should be happy I love y’mum.”

“I am, just not publicly.” Felix turned his nose up at the memory of his parents kissing.

“Leave us alone, it’s our anniversary.” You pouted.

“Like dad needs that excuse.” Belle snorted and rolled her eyes, making everyone but Harry laugh.

“You don’t need an excuse to love me, H.” You whispered to him and he leaned down to you with a smile.

“I know.” He kissed your forehead this time and brought you closer into his side as his kids were laughing with each other still.

“Where the fuck is the waited i’m bloody starving.” Oli grumbled, patting his belly lightly, clearly annoyed at the waiting of the staff here.

“Um, can I help you?” The shy waiter was bright red in the face from hearing Oli’s comment, making the rest of you snicker.

It was the little moments like these that made you appreciate your life and your little, happy, family.

[reggiepeters-love-bot]

Welcome to Spirit! pt 1/?

Julie loves her job at Spirit Halloween. That’s why she keeps coming back. However, this year’s staff is... interesting to say the least.

It’s a particularly slow evening, being that it’s a Wednesday and still about four weeks until Halloween. Julie’s slumped over the counter while Alex, her assistant manager, is checking today’s sales on the computer. They already finished putting away the shipment they received yesterday, so Reggie is breaking down boxes, and Luke is slowly wandering around the store pretending to be making sure everyone looks nice and neat.

“Ugh! I still have two hours left,” cries Julie when she takes notice of the time on the clock, feeling like she’s been here forever (it’s been three hours, but they’ve only had about four customers all day).

“You’re doing great today, Julie. Keep it up,” encourages Alex in the way that all the managers do, even if she’s done nothing spectacular that day. “Have you taken a break today?”

“Yeah.”

“I haven’t,” calls Luke from where he’s meaninglessly moving the children’s anime weapons around.

“You don’t work enough to get one today. And even if you did, you were late,” says Alex with a shrug.

“Ha, sucks for you,” Reggie laughs as he’s returning the boxcutter to the drawer in the counter.

Julie moves from her place behind the counter towards the vampire and witch costumes, always liking to admire the accessories there and do some personal shopping.

Beep. Julie hears her walkie-talkie clipped to her apron pocket go off, but no one says anything.

Beep Beep. She quickly turns her head to look across the store and sees Luke attempting to hide a smile while moving around mugs.

Another beep is heard, this time from -- presumably – Reggie, because Julie doesn’t see Luke’s hands move. She chuckles to herself before adding her own double beep to the strange game Luke has started.

“You guys are dumb,” Alex says while chuckling to himself then contributing a beepbeepbeep of his own. The rest all laugh at the fact that they got their manager to join in on their antics. 

They exchange rapid beeps for the next minute until Julie notices someone walking towards the front door and signals for them to stop with her hand mock-slicing her neck. She then turns to front the merchandise to look like she’s actually working to the customer.

“Hi, welcome to Spirit,” Julie greets with her best customer service voice once the man walks in, causing Luke and Reggie to giggle at how ridiculous she sounds. 

“Reggie, can you take out the trash? Then you can take your 10 if you want,” says Alex.

Reggie salutes him and then moves to pick up the trash bag behind the counter. 

The man is looking around the store, and Julie is waiting at her register for whenever he’s ready to checkout while “Youngblood” by 5SOS plays over the shitty speakers. Julie’s tapping a pen to the beat of it when Luke walks over to her.

“So, what’s your favorite scary movie?” he asks.

“What is this, Scream?”

Luke shrugs. “I’ve never seen that, so I don’t know.”

“You’ve never seen Scream?” Julie asks, appalled at Luke’s lack of quality movie taste.

“I know it’s corny as hell.”

“That’s the whole point. It’s a parody of classic horror movies.”

“Sounds dumb. I like Friday the 13th. How ‘bout you?”

“If anything’s dumb, it’s Friday the 13th. I mean, Jason’s not even in the first one. How does that work?”

“Ok, so what do you like then?”

“Well, as far as classics, I love The Exorcist. But my favorite Halloween movie is Hocus Pocus even though it’s not a horror movie,” Julie explains very thoughtfully.

“Fair enough. Well, if we’re talking children’s Halloween movies, the answer’s always gonna be The Nightmare Before Christmas,” Luke responds with a nod.

Julie rolls her eyes. “Yeah, you would say that.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Luke asks with a slightly offended look and a dramatic hand on his chest.

“Luke, go take your 10,” calls Alex.

“This isn’t done,” Luke says firmly, pointing at Julie as she lightly giggles while he walks towards the break room (which was just the dressing rooms of the previous store with a curtain in the entry).

Julie faces forward again. “Find everything okay?”

[darthwheezely]

grande - g.w.

Summary: George meets a mighty adorable barista in the new cafe on Diagon Alley and the man just can’t help himself... based off the song Coffee Girl by Johnny Socko! Sorry this took me absolute ages (9 days oops) to get out, guys :/

Warnings: DIABETIC FLUFF STUPID AMOUNTS OF CARDIAC ARREST INDUCING FLUFF UWU,mentions of sexism, Fred being Fred, cussing probably, alludes to sex, PG/PG-13

taglist or people that might like this but idk: @theweasleyslut @kitwalker02 @loony-loopy-lupinn @wand3ringr0s3 @gcdric @thehufflepuffwife @monoscandal @lupinsclassroom @whiz-bangs78 @vogueweasley @rogueweasleys @band--psycho @lumosandnoxwriting @oh-for-merlins-sake @amxrtentias @virgohufflepuff @vivianweasley

George Weasley didn’t sleep. This had long been the habit of his ever since he and his parents had discovered that his elder twin Fred had been an avid sleepwalker by age 4, then became a (minor) party animal in his Hogwarts days, and finally when he became the co-owner of one of the Wizard World’s most successful entrepreneurs and business owners.

The man hadn’t slept in about 18 years give or take. And days like this reminded him of it constantly.

It was a Saturday, the first of the month, and to boot, it was about to be Christmas in a little over a week. Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was packed with everyone from couples window shopping, children in desperate need of fun now that school was out, parents trying to keep them in line, and even some old lady named Ethel (who swore she was part Veela, and therefore Fred couldn’t “escape her girlish charm.”)

“Ethel, you have an absolutely ravishing day, and don’t even worry about that moisturizer it’d be a waste of product on a natural beauty like you” Fred winked and kissed the old lady’s hand, George watching from the top of the steps rolling his eyes.

“Oh, Freddie, you know how to keep a lady young, don’t you? Oh - goodbye, Georgie! Have a good rest of your day boys!” She waved majestically to the younger twin on the stairs and he bowed royally in response.

“Bye, Ethel!” They both called as she exited the building, the bells flurrying in her wake.

“Georgie, mate, hate to say it but you are being uncharacteristically quiet and it’s making me uncharacteristically uncomfortable.” Fred said bounding up the stairs to meet him, chuckling briefly.

“Freddie, mate, hate to say it but I’ve had absolutely no sleep as of late and it’s getting to me. But I’ll be back up to my usual antics in no time.” He padded down the stairs, winking at a couple young ladies ogling him, sending them into a fit of giggles. Fred sat down on the middle step eyeing his brother carefully. It didn’t take a genius to see George wasn’t holding on much longer, the dark circles littering his eyes and the way he mussed up his already purposely messy hair just...didn’t comfort his older twin at all.

“George.” Fred sighed, George looking back at him, confused. He took his hands away from the merchandise Wonder Witch he’d been rearranging and gave him full attention.

“Take your lunch break early. And longer if possible.”

“Pffft, why would I do that when I have women to woo and boxes to juggle?”

“George.”

“Fred.”

“Stop, I mean it. You look half dead as it is, just go take a nap or get an espresso from the cafe down the aisle or something that reinforces the idea that yes, you are a human being and no, not a zombie.” Fred crossed his arms feeling suddenly a lot like Molly and dropped the cross. George pretended to ponder this tapping his chin, rather finding the mature brother role reversal funny as hell.

“Oh, alright, but can I still be a zombie when I get back?”

Fred hit him with a folder and sent him on his way.

-•-•-

You had just finished the lunch rush, finally being able to calm down and not have to worry about making one more goddamn Butterbeer Latte for at least another 20 or so minutes...until there’d be another rush. You grabbed a lemon scone, took off your apron and sat against the back counter. You inhaled the citrus scent, it was always something that you loved to savor, and took a bite.

The holidays for the Merlin’s Mochas, the cafe, had been absolutely atrocious so far. All you had for customers were angry businessmen, bratty kids and their upper class parents who let them run around the already small place being rude to everyone, your boss Lionel who had an affinity for calling every woman who worked there a “bitch” (...ok lionel) and to top it all off: you’d been pulling 9 hour days every day except sundays. Needless to say: you kind of super hated your job.

You had just finished your scone when you heard the door chime signal a customer, immediately wiping your hands on your jeans and restrapping your apron.

“Hi how can I-“ oh Jesus this is the hottest man I have ever seen. He was easily no older than 23, fiery red hair, a perfectly tailored striped terracotta suit, green tie, and the most gorgeous doe brown eyes you’d ever seen.

“How can you...?”

“Help you, ohmygod, I am so sorry I’m super-“

“Tired? Yeah me too...interesting how similar we are this early in the game hmm?” He winked at you and your knees felt too weak. No he was just a stupid hot customer that also was really hot and also? Was super hot. No worries, Y/N, just don’t die by 22 okay thanks.

“Very funny...wait are you-“ your finger led from him to the statue outside Wizard Wheezes, realizing a simple oh shit

“Yeah, that would be me. Or my twin Fred but we never really decided, that’s why he kind of looks like both of us mixed. Although we’re twins so we basically look the same anyway. I mean because were identical. Twins, yeah.” George, what the fuck is wrong with you, why are you sweating? She’s just a simply beautiful girl in a simply maddeningly purple coffee shop can you please breathe and not make yourself look stupid-

“Oh, wow! I’ve never met a twin before - not like twins are anomalies or anything it’s just so crazy. Science. Science is crazy” You closed your eyes and took a breath

“We should probably start over shouldn’t we?” You wrinkled your nose.

“That sounds much more redeeming than anything we both were about to say” George breathed out laughing softly, rubbing his hand through his hair.

“I’m George. Weasley. Like I said, I work at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, the shop over there, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen this place before...or you for that matter, I never forget a beautiful young woman.” He said smoothly, his heart steadily subsiding - something about you had the power to not only make him scared out of his mind, but also totally at ease.

You returned the smile, warmly, the blood rushing to your cheeks at his compliment and sticking your tongue to your teeth. “Well, George Weasley, of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes I’m Y/N Y/L/N. And yeah, we’re new around here,” you leaned further onto the counter, realizing, albeit a moment too late that your eye level was directly with his abs now, and although he was wearing a suit...you could definitely tell they were there.

“We erm, just opened three months ago. It’s honestly a bit of a time to work here.”

“Oh and why is that?”

“Well, nothing like a blatant sexist to run an entirely female employed establishment and weird stuffy rich people.” Your eyes widened suddenly, and you felt like you had said far too much far too soon. But he gasp-laughed - laugh that ended as soon as it began and burst into a smile...like you had shared a secret with him.

“What the hell is he doing here then? Got a boy’s club to run in a purple coffee shop?”

“I mean you never really know these days, George, imposters are among us at every moment” you purred and pushed off the counter, meaning it as a joke but George’s heart screamed when he heard your name. As you moved to the other edge of the counter, he followed you.

“What a resourceful and cruel young woman, I am starting to like you, Miss Y/L/N.” He clucked. “And do you think of me like you think of Mr. I-Hate-Women-That’s-Why-I-Hire-Them?” He got inches from your face, smelling the coffee beans and vanilla extract that riddled your skin.

“Hmm...Mr. Weasley, I’m not so sure.” You coyly stepped away from him and took long strides to the far end of the coffee bar by the wall. George immediately felt a pit of flirtatious butterflies and (arousal?) something more in his stomach, jaw dropped, he followed you again. He pressed his hands to the counter in front of you.

“Well, how can I convince you?” He asked rather quickly.

“Hmm...” you leaned forward like he did before and his breath hitched in his throat “...let’s get you a cuppa first.”

-•-

“Wait, okay let me get this straight-“

“Yes?”

“You have 6 other siblings.”

“Yes.”

“...because your mom wanted a girl?”

“That-that would in fact be true, yes.”

You thought for a moment.

“So you’re telling me after she made it through you two-“

“-she still wanted to have more of us, believe me, it races through my mind daily.” He nodded vehemently laughing with you. You two had taken to the empty cafe at a table nestled in the corner, him sitting in a chair across from you on a bench. You had both been cracking each other up with stories from your childhoods, like how you both had managed to never know of the other’s existence until now.

He’d discovered that you had transferred from Hogwarts to Beauxbatons early on in your fourth year. You, a Hufflepuff, loved the quiet and soft landscape of the French school. You both had absolutely no idea the other existed. How? The world may never know.

He was brash. You were careful.

He was already flying when you were just feeling comfortable learning how to walk.

But you sat there with him for the better amount of an hour and a half, laughing and interrupting each other with memories of the school years you had, some weird and strange, and especially during fourth year, hard for George to talk about.

Ginny, his baby sister, had almost died. And as he said to you in a candid and highly vulnerable state: he blamed himself for almost letting her go to this day.

“I...I really do believe it was my fault.”

“George, it couldn’t have been your fault. Hogwarts is a big freaking death trap - you and I both know that,” you had said with an exasperated laugh, eager to make him feel better in any facet.

“Yeah, but...I’m her big brother. Yes, she has five other older brothers but...we were supposed to protect her.” He swallowed and blinked back tears. “It was her first year, for Christ’s sake, and I paid about as much attention to her as a doorknob would.” He had rolled his jaw and taken a gulp of his gingerbread latte (you had said it was your favorite, and he was loathe to try anything else) and you had softly draped your hand on top of his.

“If she’s as kind and loving and funny as you, I’d love to meet her.” You quipped, a small smile growing on your face in effort to soothe. He had smiled back at you, turning your hand over in his and drawing his digits lazily over your palm.

“Funny, because I was thinking the same thing.”

-•-

He had told you to close your eyes, that much had been true.

See, his coffee had started to get cold. So, like if you give a mouse a cookie, he’ll have to have some milk-

If you give a George a latte he will have to not only have another one, but also feel the strenuous need to show off for you and take you to his place of work. Naturally. And it was so lucky that by the time he’d proposed you leave, he even helped you clean and lock up afterwards.

Truthfully, it almost scared you how much he had seemed to care.

“Alright, Y/N, darling, I’m going to release my hands on the count of three, yeah?”

“Perfect, Georgie” you giggled. You’d legitimately only knew him for so long, but you just...you trusted him. He grinned widely, his strong hands only applying a slight amount of pressure as not to hurt you.

“Alright, then. 1. 2-“ he took his hands off your eyes and watched you adjust not only to light, but to your surroundings as well.

“3.” He breathed out taking in the way you smiled like a teenager, face alight with pure inundating wonder. You squealed and started to run around the store.

“Look at these! Pygmy Puffs - ugh they’re so adorable look at this one! Oh, oh - ‘Fizzing Whizbees’ - these look absolutely wicked! And Per- ‘Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder’?” You picked up the glittery stone in your hand, and heard a smooth voice perk up behind you.

“A real money spinner, that one.” You turned around and there was a man that looked absolutely identical to George, although entirely different in the same way.

“Handy if you need to make a quick getaway,” you heard George on the other side of you. He smiled warmly down at you, nodding his head up to look at the twin across from him.

“Y/N, this is my-“

“-older, much more attractive and fiscally responsible brother.” He winked and you blushed almost immediately. “Fred. Weasley.”

“Y/N Y/L/N. Georgie has told me a lot about you and the shop - absolutely marvelous this place is, I cant believe you two created so much in such a short span of time. Brilliant it all is, really!” George had started to flush, rubbing his jaw to seemingly take the red away from his striking face. Fred, upon hearing the genuine warmth from your voice and the unmistakable use of “Georgie” had a small, but highly distinct aha moment:

“Well, we couldn’t have done it all on our own, one of our best friends helped us out a good lot. But thank you, really...it means so much when other people see how much we do and-” he looked directly at George.

“-acknowledge the things we love, right George?”

“Absolutely, Frederick.” Fred had given him the look that seemed to imply: “please, God, make a damn move.”

“Well, Y/N, I’m going to be off and woo some ladies, have a biscuit and do some paperwork” he smiled wide when you giggled, already enjoying your company.

“But I hope to see you again, very soon, yeah? Please stop by whenever you can, we’re alwYs just down the street.”

“Freddie, for your company, I’m not so sure, I’m still deciding.” You quipped. Fred laughed heartily at that and looked at George.

“Georgie, I like this one.” George looked at you and winked.

“Me, too Freddie, me too.” You leaned back on your heels as Fred padded back up the stairs to the flat, now completely alone with George. You threw your arms behind you back and forth and took a long stride to George.

“So...what are you those?” You nodded up to the array of pink bubbles in a clam shape in the corner. He hummed and reached to grab your hand.

“Love potions - c-can I show you?” He raised an eyebrow slightly, but he felt his whole body turn to mush when you accepted his hand and nodded slowly. As he walked with you, you memorized the feeling of his callouses and veins, the way your hand curled deliberately in his.

You wanted to make sure if it was the last time you felt something like that, you had that memory with you for a while.

“Essentially, if you give these to a person they will temporarily have feelings of love and attraction for you. Depending of course on the dosage you use and the weight of the person in question.” He explained. You watched the way his suit jacket pulled taut against his back muscles and instinctively wanted to honestly just take the whole thing off-

“Hmm...I don’t know about these, Georgie.” You hummed mischievously. Your heart was pounding in your chest.

He scoffed placing a dramatic hand over his heart. “Am i being questioned in my own establishment, Miss Y/L/N?”

You rolled your eyes and hit his arm, bowing slightly at him. “Well, do forgive my feminine insolence, Mr. Weasley, it’s not often I meet such bewitching mad scientists like you.” You watched his face grow blank for a moment at your compliment and immediately wanted to throw up.

“George, I’m really sorry, I know we just became friends-“

“Do you mean it?” He took a step towards you. You swallowed finding again his perfect milk chocolate eyes. You nodded.

“Hell yeah I did, you’re smart...and wicked hot” you both laughed at that. He took another step, the distance being unbearably harder to live in as his digits found a piece of hair and wound it behind your ear.

“Well, darling, the feeling is quite mutual.” He said quietly, taking in the whole of your face. He wanted to crash his lips onto every possible nook and crevice of your face, collide with you entirely.

“We’re going to have to do something about that, then, aren’t we?” You gently nudged his nose with yours and wrapped your arms around his neck, his strong and powerful arms pulling you to him gently. He wanted you to feel him not to break under his embrace. He leaned down and brushed his lips up to yours, feeling you whine and let out a minuscule sound.

“Got you making noises for me already and haven’t even kissed you yet, hmm?”

Your eyes fluttered close and one of your legs made it’s way in between his, snapping any chance at loose air between you two out of the way.

“Please, Weasley, pants a bit small for you?”

“Keep talking like that and they might, yeah.” You two laughed softly and with a final look to your lips he closed the last gap.

His mouth was perfect. His lips ghosted over yours one last time before wrapping every part of himself onto your frame, your lips entangled in each other like you’d never be able to taste him again.

But it was loving and slow and sweet. He tasted like gingerbread lattes and pastries and cinnamon and licking into his mouth you could feel the spice. He moaned lightly into your mouth, sending your knees buckling. He dipped you slightly, a hand traveling to your lower back to keep you steady, and his other hand coming up to nestle under the nape of your hair. Your hands caressed his face, his chest, needless to say? You wanted them everywhere. You wanted him everywhere.

The kiss broke and you and George were left breathless in each other’s hold, your foreheads pressed together as he kept you slightly dipped.

“Y/N, I’m feeling a bit tired” he quipped hoarsely, pressing a brief kiss to your lips and onto your neck. You hummed satisfactorily.

“Georgie, you’re gonna need another latte aren’t you?” You set multiple chaste kisses to his lips and cheeks, feeling him rumble with a small giggle. He caught your mouth with his and you moaned slightly.

“I’m gonna need a whole pot, to drink you in, love.”

[shirophantomvox]

Hold My Hand- Illumi x Reader

OMG thank you! My first international fan! Thank you for this wonderful prompt! This was requested by @illucilfer .

Summary: Today’s story takes place in a 1950s diner by a frequently used Interstate; Interstate 95. We know this dinner for its delicious hamburgers, hot dogs, milkshakes, and jukebox records, but every night one Patreon never returns home. A few men who were angry about your recent arrest have shot you both. As you both stare at each other exchanging mental signals, everyone around you tries to help you to the hospital. Y/N is narrating the story. I seem to have fewer grammar errors that way. FYI, Bold and italicized font will reference a thought or flashback.

Story Navigation

Let’s get started!

The leaves have turned bright yellow and orange, fluttering every second to the ground. I could hear little children a while away laughing and playing in the community park; throwing up the leaves, jumping into piles, and throwing them at each other. The smell of freshly baked donuts brightened everyone’s mood. All you had to do was take one bite and your face would brighten and crack a smile. Dining at Cupid’s Kitchen will always have your heart and interest.

Interstate 95 was always heavy with traffic during this time of year. The folks of Dallas celebrated mulch annually. The “Mulch Fest” was a street fair that stretched 1.5 miles to the east that contained music, drinks, farmer panels, homemaker Q&A, and other activities that southerners enjoy. Illumi and I are only here because of an unfinished assignment. We have worked night and day for countless days trying to catch Jack “Da Hamor” Gilberton, but he was nowhere to be found. Eventually, I allowed my anger to get the best of me and made the executive decision to take a day off. I barred Illumi from searching, tracking, or any form of hunting for our target. The life of a bounty hunter and an assassin can thrill, but it can drive you insane if you allow it.

Ironically, Illumi and I both enjoy fall. It is perfect for cuddling (although he acts as if he’s too good to cuddle), wearing creative hoodies, going to pumpkin patches, and attending apple orchids. I tend to “lose my cool” when we have dates there. When I was a child, my family did not go on trips like these because they were over an hour away from our home and I had 5 siblings. But once I made money for myself, I made it my mission to go to one at least 5 times out of the year. Illumi enjoys the different fudge, hot cider, and candy apples. He almost broke a tooth on one!

“Say cheese snag-a’-tooth!”

“Stop it. It’s not funny!”

“It is! Could you imagine if you lost your two front teeth? You’d look almost adorable as you did in the 1st grade!”

“How did you know about that?”

“Duh! It happens to everyone, but your mother showed me the pictures, of course.”

“Curses!”

Illumi’s sweet tooth is just like Killua’s; both have a weakness for chocolate. Except, Killua will admit defeat while his older brother keeps denying it.

Cupid’s Dinner has been in Dallas for over 55 years. A black woman established it in 1945 by the name of Mary-Lou Benson. Since then, Mary’s family has been running the shop, making sure all of her customers are happy with the service. During the turn of each season, Cupid’s Dinner gives its customer's food options based on the season. The fall options include donuts, candy apples, different flavored cider, fudge, and hot coffee specials. As much as everything looked appetizing, I could not order it all. Our server, Little Ben, placed our drinks in front of us and handed us the menu. I could tell he was happy with his line of work, just as I was to be with Illumi.

“You all take your time. I’ll be back in five.”

Ilumi glanced on both sides of the room, scanning for Jack Gilberton, already forgetting the agreement we established.

“Illumi, what are you doing?”

“Huh?”

“You keep looking around like you’ve seen Da Hamor. Eat your donut and relax, sweetheart.”

“I cannot relax. I must stay on alert.”

“If I can relax, so can you. It’s not that hard.”

“Fine. If I die, it’s on your head… literally.”

The jingling bell rang almost every second when a customer walked in. It was a joy to everyone's ears; the spirit of Mary Lou-Benson was alive and well. An overwhelming feeling of love seemed to have overtaken the diner. After examining the bistro for quite some time now, each customer had been using their cellphones at the table instead of chatting with their families. Many traditional families hated that about this generation but they should be open to new traditions forming. Illumi dislikes using cell phones or tablets at the table unless we use them for missions. He has emphasized how rude it is to be surfing the web about utter nonsense while someone is speaking. This is a pet peeve of his, something I’ll never step on his toe about. Although I think that is overdoing it, I respect it.

Little Ben served our table quickly, leaving us with two dishes of a classic chicken sandwich, kettle chips, one chocolate, and vanilla milkshake. Milkshakes were my weakness; I nearly foam at the mouth when I see one. When I found out that Illumi had NEVER had a milkshake, I almost fainted.

“No. I’ve never had a milkshake.”

“Huh? You’re missing out, pal.”

“What’s the big deal? Isn’t it frozen milk?”

“Not just frozen milk. You can add many flavors, toppings, and whip cream!”

“Well, then. You’ll have to show me sometime.”

We thanked Little Ben for his service as he clocked out for the day.

“I have to admit these sandwiches look very appetizing.”

“You can say that again!”

Before I nibbled on my sandwich, I wanted to take a moment and adore the man before me; Illumi Zoldyck. A man full of mysteries, professionalism, skill, and talent. His enormous eyes were immersed in the large pieces of chicken in between the sourdough bread. He licked his index finger vigorously; allowing the homemade honey mustard to drip enough from the bread to the plate in between licks. Just the sight of him actually relaxing for once has blown me away. For once, Illumi Zoldyck could be himself and I had the privilege to witness it.

“Um… why are you staring at me? Do I have food on my face,” he asked; violently wiping his mouth off with a provided cloth napkin.

“Oh! Ha, ha; no reason. I wanted to see your reaction after drinking your milkshake. That’s all.”

“Why? It’s just a drink.”

“Whatever you say, babe.”

“Babe? What happened to LuLu or Illumi-Lu?”

I gasped and pretended to be surprised… although I was a little.

“I did not know that you liked those pet names. I assumed it mortified you.”

“Who told you that? That never rolled off my tongue. “What I said was” — He bent closer to the table and to me; glancing both to the right and left to ensure no wandering ears were around — “I prefer Illumi-Lu to be said in the bedroom and LuLu when we’re alone, like how we are right now.”

“Aww…. ok,” I yelled in excitement.

“Don’t blow it out of proportion, alright?”

“Yes, sir.”

As we ate, Illumi hummed along to the tune that played a few times on the restaurant's jukebox. Illumi and I were born in the mid-90s, but listening to 50s music was a part of his aesthetic. I was told that he had an “old soul” which sounds romantic at first until you realize how men were during that era. His raging temper was a noticeable toxic trait, but it has drastically improved. Nonchalantly sipping on his milkshake and then eating more of his chips, he grazed the soft part of his left hand over mine as he continued to hum.

“What’s the name of this song? You seem to know it rather well.”

“Put your head on my shoulder, a famous song from the 60s. I heard my parents sing it once and since then, they have addicted me to it. Do you like it?”

“Yes, in fact, I love it. All of this is—”

“A surprise to you? Well, enjoy it while it lasts because once I find Jack Gilberton, this side of me will hide for a while.”

“Understood.”

Damn! I was just feeling connected to him again!

The music swelled; everyone seemed to be happy. Not an evil spirit insight to disrupt this beautiful moment. For once in my life, my raven-haired beauty actually held my hand tight, stole a few of my barbecue kettle chips, and gazed into my eyes harmlessly. His lips brushed against both of my hands, ever so lightly placing kisses on both sides of them. Illumi’s gentle smile warmed my heart as my lingering thoughts of hope stayed intact.

The welcoming bell jingled again. Two men in black leather jackets, stone-washed blue jeans, and tattooed all over their arms came into the diner. The men seemed to be bikers who had just left their own “spot” but one thing struck me as they continued to walk towards the staff. They both wore sunglasses when the sunset for the day. Not to mention that the lights were not dim in the diner and the moon was as bright as ever. The second man had his eyes glued in my direction. My heart beat faster as I wondered if Jack Gilberton had found us. Could you imagine?

Put your head on my shoulder

Hold me in your arms, baby

Squeeze me oh-so-tight

Show me you love me too

I am used to coming in contact with enemies on my hit list, but given Jack’s criminal history; I felt like I may not survive his attacks. Illumi will survive, but just barely. Both men approached the checkout, crowing over Little Ben’s sister. She was a short woman but full of might, and I could tell by the shakiness in her voice she was frightened. I wanted to step in so badly, but I didn't want to blow my cover just in case it was, in fact, Jack Gilberton. After I assume, ordering food, both men stood by the entrance, blocking it from others from entering and leaving. The sound of their old, beat up-lighters crackled as one lit a joint and the other lit a cigarette. This horrid smell ruined the atmosphere because they were not in a designated area and it drowned out the lovely aroma of the food being served.

“If you gentlemen would like to smoke, you need to go outside. There is no smoking in here.”

“What? You think you’re better than me because you don’t smoke?”

“Huh? I never said that, sir. I asked for you to go outside. Not all of our customers can deal with it.”

They did not move a muscle. The sound of their mucous laughter made everyone’s stomach turn. They laughed at the young girl and called her many slurs. Little Ben’s sister didn’t flinch, nor did she cry; she remained still, staring at the men. I had just enough of their obnoxious behavior.

“If you do not leave, I will call the police.”

“The hell you won’t.”

Put your lips next to mine, dear

Won't you kiss me once, baby?

He drew a gun from his left side. He aimed it at Little Ben’s sister and demanded that she emptied the drawer. She refused. Her stone, iron will reminded me of Illumi; no matter the circumstance, they remained intact, determined to fight until the end. Bravery is always encouraged, but too much will cause your life to be taken away. Little Ben’s sister grabbed a fake till that they kept under the real one and threw it at both men. Fake money fluttered everywhere in the small diner, mimicking confetti. Gunshots rang in all directions as the imbeciles recklessly shot, aiming for Little Ben’s sister. Everyone threw themselves on the ground to avoid being shot, but luck cannot spread itself throughout an entire room of people. A young child, an older man, and another worker were shot in their lower leg. Blood reflected from the ground as it continued to seep. Ignoring injured civilians is a jackass move and continuing to deny the fact would prove that the oath I pledge to meant nothing. Sure, bounty hunters must remain hidden, but if someone is injured, I must help them.

The child was lying lifeless on the polished marble floor. He would not respond to my shaking or my silent whispers. When I rolled him over, my heart broke into a million pieces. This child had no chance of survival; a few bullets struck his chest, one just inches away from his heart. A tear rolled down my cheek.

“Why must the good die young,” I whispered to myself.

“... Because snitches get stitches.”

Before I could gain sight of who stated this utterly corny response, I felt an overwhelming amount of pain in my lower back. It felt like a million tiny needles were jabbed so far through my skin that they entered my intestine. I could still hear, but my body would not move. I tried and tried, but my brain would not signal my legs.

Move! Move, damn it!

It’s odd; I could hear myself talk, but my body would not move at all. The sound of another thudding body made my mind jump. My heart had already been pounding enough to try to resuscitate my organs to move, but a familiar semi-blurring sight of none other than Mr. Illumi Zoldyck cleared my sight. My brain went wild. I didn’t know if Illumi died or if he became paralyzed, but one thing is for sure. We finally made eye contact that felt special; something I hadn’t felt since the day I met him. Our contact felt like magnets; an unbreakable bond. Suddenly, my icy hand felt warmth around my palm and fingers. Illumi simultaneously fell in a way that connected our hands. Our unbreakable bond, the warmth of his fingers laying on top of mine, and the gaze we shared somehow made me feel like it was just the two of us alone. I could hear his thoughts loud and clear; thoughts that came from the heart.

“Please help me. Before it’s too late, LuLu,” I cried, thinking I was going insane. “I don’t want to leave if it means leaving you behind.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.”

“Please! I want to live a life. Life as a bounty hunter, build a support system to our children, and a good lover is all I want to be.”

“You are a warrior and so am I. We have been through worse. This is nothing.”

Mere eye contact is all we need to exchange wandering conversations. The bond that we’ve created is something so strong that I haven’t realized it until now. The warmth emitted from his loose grasp seems to lose its effectiveness. It blurred my vision beyond recognition, leaving Illumi as a near figment of my imagination.

“Oh no. I guess this is it.”

My vision darkened. Illumi was slipping away as my lingering thoughts almost made my heart give out from exhaustion. I was ready to accept my fate, but it seemed like fate had other plans. My vision was still darkening by the second, but my sense of touch remained there. Smooth fingers outline my arms, torso, and chest. I heard muffled voices yelling and screaming about calling for assistance, but I didn’t care if they came or not. I made peace with my life’s end. Bit by bit, my breathing slowed down, but my sense of touch remained heightened. I felt a rubber glove touch my face and neck, examining it for any damage.

The jukebox continued to play Illumi’s favorite song, Put Your Head on my Shoulder. I remembered the day I laid my head on his shoulder; boy, what an endearing moment that was. It was something I took for granted, something I should have savored, for I never knew that this moment would have happened. The song grew muffled by the second verse. That verse repeated every time I tried to force myself to take what felt like my last gaze at my raven-haired beauty.

Just a kiss goodnight, maybe

You and I will fall in love (you and I will fall in love)

-FIN.

A/N: Since you’ve made it to the end, I’ll say something. The reader did not die in the end. They were later revived at the hospital.

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Mystery Of Pixie Hollow by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Chapter 1/11

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @deckerstarblanche @jonesfandomfanatic

Chapter 1: Neverland

Emma stood at the register, a pile of coins and dollar bills sitting in front of her as she began counting her tips. She had been working nonstop for the last three weeks to save every dime she earned in order to take Henry on a special treat for his birthday. He had seen the flyer in the window of the diner after school one day, immediately calling the carnival to her attention. A traveling amusement park themed to the story of Peter Pan was visiting their town. Henry hadn’t stopped asking questions about it since.

Do fairies really exist?

Can Peter Pan actually fly?

If I really believe do you think I can fly when I’m there too?

With his birthday approaching, Emma knew the best birthday gift she could give him was a trip to the park when it came to town. It was only visiting for three days, and Henry had been completely gutted when they fell on Emma’s weekend at the diner. He had been putting on his best face when she got home from work, her feet tired from standing all day, reciting to her his day, and trying to pretend that he wasn’t disappointed after sitting all day listening to the sounds of the park lofting through his window.

She could barely contain her secret last night when she tucked him into bed, and he told her that he got to spend the day watching Peter Pan skip through the park and it was just as good as being there.

Henry was such a sweet boy, he never asked for things he knew he couldn’t have. He knew that money was tight for them. Emma had been on her own ever since she gave birth to the boy, his father was long out of the picture before he was even born. It wasn’t that the boy was ever without something important, Emma made sure that she saved her money to spend it on things he needed, and when she couldn’t afford it, her best friend, Will Scarlet always pitched in to help her out.

Which was what had happened with Henry’s birthday gift this year. Emma had saved almost enough for the admission price but knew that Henry would want tickets to ride the rides and play a few games, and of course Will tossed some money into the pot, so that the three of them could enjoy the last day of the park together.

“Did you save enough?” She turned to see her boss Mrs. Lucas approach her from the kitchen.

“I made $25 bucks today, I should be able to get him some dinner while we are there.” She said with a smile.

“Get him something from me too while you’re there.” She responded as she held out her hand, a white envelope in her palm. “It’s his birthday after all.”

Emma tentatively took the envelope, lifting the top to see a crisp $20 bill tucked inside. “Gran, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I know, but it’s his birthday, just be sure to tell him it’s from Gran.” She reached out and hugged the woman, a smile growing on her face. The bell above the door made a sound and they both turned to see the customer walk into the diner. “Get out of here, you’re off the clock.”

Emma looked at her watch. “I still have ten minutes left in my shift.”

The woman shook her head and pulled out her notepad to assist the man who sat down at the counter. “Clock must be slow.” She said with a grin. “Get out of here. Take that boy of yours on an adventure.”

“Thank you, see you tomorrow.” She hollered back as she ran out the door to her yellow bug parked outside the diner. She couldn’t wait to get home and tell Henry they were going to Pixie Hollow.

When she opened the door to her apartment, Henry was running circles around the couch as Will chased him through the living room. “You can’t get away from me, mate.”

“You’re too old to catch me.” Henry hollered and Will stopped in his tracks and grabbed his chest.

“Oi, that was quite rude.” He said in a feigned outrage. “I’m not that old.”

Emma laughed and they both turned toward her. “Mom!” Henry ran and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“The lad is being hurtful on his birthday.” Will scoffed.

“Tell your Uncle Will that you’re sorry for calling him old.” She leaned over and whispered. “But say it loudly because his hearing isn’t what it used to be.” Henry fell to the ground in a fit of giggles.

“You know he gets his mean spirted nature from you, right?” Will complained.

“We love you.” She teased as she ran her hand through his short locks and pinched his cheek. She turned and faced Henry.

“Why are you home? I thought you had to work tonight.”

“I wanted to surprise you!” She grinned. “Thought maybe we could go see this Peter Pan you keep talking about.”

Henry’s face brightened. “Seriously? Oh my God.” He squealed “You mean it?”

“Happy birthday, baby.” She smiled. The boy launched himself into her arms. “Ok we gotta get ready to go, get your jacket in case it gets cold after the sun goes down.”

Henry disappeared in a fury to his room to collect his jacket, just as Will’s phone rang.

“Don’t answer it.” Emma protested as he held up the phone and Will groaned.

“It’s work, I can’t ignore it.” Emma groaned as he greeted his boss, a chorus of “Yes, sir” “I know, sir” “Of course, sir.” Carried through the room.

“Yes but I was planning to…” He frowned. “I understand, of course, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He said sadly. Henry came bounding into the room as he disconnected the call.

“You’re going in to work now?” Emma complained.

“I’m sorry Em, it can’t be helped. They had some sort of emergency, and they need me there right away.”

“So, we aren’t going?” Henry said sadly, looking up between them. Will hesitated, staring between the two. Emma knew he wouldn’t disappoint Henry if it couldn’t be helped.

“I’m sorry lad, I don’t have a choice.”

“We’re still going Henry.” Emma announced.

“Emmie, you can’t go alone.” Will began to protest.

Emma rolled her eyes. “Stop it, I’m an adult. I don’t need you to babysit me everywhere we go.”

“I’m not there to babysit you, I just don’t like it when you and Henry are out late at night without someone else with you.”

“Without a man with me, you mean. I don’t know if you realize this yet, but I don’t need a man, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“Are you sure you two will be alright?”

Emma chuckled. “I think I can handle a carnival for children on my own.”

“Alright, but text me when you get there, and again when you get home.”

“Ok dad.” She teased and he slapped her playfully on the arm.

“Happy birthday, Bub.” He picked the boy off the ground and squeezed him. “Don’t have too much fun without me.”

“That’s impossible.” The boy replied.

“Did I tell you that you’re my favorite six-year-old out of all the six-year-old kids out there?”

“But I just turned six. You don’t even know all the six-year-old kids.” Henry wined with a playful smile.

“I don’t have to because you’re still my favorite.”

“You said that when I was five.”

“And I’ll say it when you’re seven or fifteen.” Will said as he sat the boy back on the ground.

“I love you, Uncle Will.”

“Love you too Bub.” He raised his hand, and they exchanged their ridiculous handshake that they had made up when Henry had turned four.

Two taps, spin around, tap down low, shake your booty, tap up high.

It was ridiculous and heartwarming and a reminder of how lucky she was to have such an amazing best friend. Even when she showed up on his doorstep, a positive pregnancy test in her hand, tears streaming down her face, Will simply pulled her into his arms and promised he would always be there for her. Over the years he had been her shoulder to cry on, her Lamaze coach, her sounding board, and her support system. Even with the one drunken misstep that neither of them ever spoke of again, there wasn’t anyone that Emma relied on more than Will.

“Ok I’m off, have fun tonight.” He smiled and left through the front door. As soon as the door closed Henry jumped up and down in front of her.

“Can we go now?” Emma chuckled and pushed him toward the door.

“Of course, let’s go.”

“You have to say it mom.”

“Say what?” She asked, confused on what he was meaning.

“Second star to the right.” He began excitedly.

“And straight on til morning.” She continued as they closed the door to the apartment and made their way to the park across the street. The lights shone bright into the sky with all the rides and attractions that had their own music playing all around them as soon as they entered the park.

Henry could barely contain his excitement as he bounced about from ride to ride. More than once Emma had to remind him to stay close by, not to get too far ahead of her, but the boy was hard to be contained.

“Mom, look, it’s a house of mirrors, can we go, can we go?” He jumped up and down in front of her.

“Ok, but don’t get too far ahead of me.” Emma laughed as he handed his ticket to the man at the front of the attraction. She didn’t like the way the man glared in her direction, there was something about him that made her uncomfortable in a way that caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end. Henry ran ahead into the building and Emma yelled for him to wait as the man seemed to take an extra-long time to allow her to enter behind her son.

When he finally raised the gate, she ran toward the fun house, entering the building and exhaling when she saw Henry standing at the corner waiting for her. “Come on mom, this is so cool.”

“It’s very cool.” Emma replied, looking around the disorienting room. The mirrors at all angles making it appear that Henry was in more than one place in front of her.

“You could get lost in here for days.” He joked as he stepped into the room, his arms outstretched in front of him to avoid running into anything.

“Let’s try and avoid getting lost, I’m starting to get hungry.” She joked.

“Come on mom, I bet you can’t find which one is really me.” Henry yelled, rushing forward, and turning a corner until she couldn’t see him anymore.

“Don’t get too far ahead of me.” She warned, turning the corner he was just at and seeing three versions of him in front of her. “Ok which one is my Henry?” She questioned as she stepped forward, her hand coming into contact with a mirror. She then touched the one next to her but that was a mirror as well.

“I’m right here.” Her son mimicked, before running around the corner again.

“You’re too good at this.” She chuckled, turning, and chasing after him until she ran into one of the glass mirrors. She really hated this attraction. “Ok Henry, I’m really getting hungry. Which way did you go?”

“I’m over here.” She heard him toward her left and she turned to stumble in that direction as she caught a glimpse of him just as she turned the corner.

“Henry, can you just stay in one place until I get to you.” Her tone was starting to sound agitated as she felt her way through the glass around her, dipping in and out of the crevices until she reached a dead end.

“Henry, where are you?” She yelled.

“Mom.” She heard him shout and then it got quiet.

“Henry?” She hollered toward the last place she heard his voice. She felt her way through the attraction until she heard music and felt the breeze of the outside, stepping through the small doorway, she found herself on the other side from where they entered. She looked around for Henry, but only saw other children, families standing around the exit area.

“Did you see a little boy come out of here?”

“I’ve seen a lot of little boys.” The guy grumbled and wandered away from her.

“Henry, where are you?” She yelled, trying to control her voice as the terror started to race in her heart. “Henry?” She ran toward the entrance and the man who took her ticket. “Where is my son, did he come back out this way?”

The man frowned, “No one comes back out the front ma’am. Did you check the exit?”

“Of course, I checked the exit, you idiot, how else did I get out here!” She yelled and he turned to take a ticket from another family.

“I need you to find my son.” She grabbed at the lapel of his jacket and turned him back toward her.

“Hands off lady.” The man warned. “I’ll get my manager.”

“Good, get your manager. I need to find my son.”

The family tried to push past her, and Emma stood in front of them, blocking the exit. “My son got lost in there.”

“It’s not my problem that you can’t keep an eye on your boy, get out of my daughter’s way.” The man pushed around her, leading his daughter into the entrance of the attraction.

Emma ran after them, and the ticket idiot was on her heels. “You can’t go in there without another ticket.”

Emma shoved his hands off her, “Get off me, I’m going in there until I find my son.” She screamed, wandering back into the fun house, her heart racing as she turned in every direction screaming her son’s name. “Henry, where are you?” She yelled, pushing forward through the maze. There was no response except for the grumbling of the people in front of her who she continued to push aside in her quest to find her son.

When she reached the exit again she immediately screamed his name, grabbing at random strangers to ask if they had seen her son, a photo of him pulled up on her phone. Suddenly she was grabbed from behind and she turned quickly to see the ticket asshole with a man. “You can’t go around grabbing our customers.” The man sternly growled at her.

“My son is missing. He went in the hall of mirrors, and he didn’t come out.”

“That’s impossible. There is only one way in and one way out. He must have come out; you’ve just lost him.”

“I didn’t lose him.” She cried. “Don’t you have something you can do. Call the cops, make an announcement, just find my son.”

“Of course, I’m Felix. I’m the assistant manager. Let me make a few calls.” He said with a grin that certainly didn’t set her at ease. There was something off about the man, something menacing and scary, and Emma just wanted to get her son and get the hell away from all of them. “Come with me.” He didn’t ask but tugged at her elbow. “Nothing to see here, she just lost her child.” He announced to the people who had suddenly taken an interest in the commotion.

Emma was too concerned about her child to admonish the bystanders for gawking at her, their looks of contention and disappointment apparent on their faces as if they just watched an irresponsible parent simply leave their child by the side of the road instead of the fact that her son vanished without a trace.

“Ok ma’am can you explain to me what you think happened to your son?” The man closed the door to the trailer and gestured for her to take a seat in the dingy office.

“What I know” she paused, “was that my son and I went into the Hall of Mirrors and when I got to the exit, he wasn’t there.”

“Do you normally let your son run off without you?”

“Excuse me?” She stood up from her seat. “He did not run off without me, he was playing in the goddamn funhouse with me in the room.”

“Yes ma’am so you said, however if he was simply playing with you, then you would know where he was, isn’t that correct?”

Emma was done with this man’s treatment of her, she was done with people not ripping that god forsaken fun house to the ground until they came upon her little boy. She pushed her way past the man and shoved the door open, ignoring his plea for her to stay put. As soon as she stepped out of the trailer, two men approached her.

“Are you the woman who lost her son?”

Emma recognized their badges and the names on them from the Sherriff’s station. “Thank God you are here, these idiots won’t do anything to find my son.”

“I’m officer Nolan, and this is officer Locksley, can you tell me what happened?”

Emma took a deep breath, “My son, Henry, he just turned 6, it’s his birthday today.” Tears started to fall down her cheeks. “We went into the Hall of Mirrors, he was playing hide and seek and trying to get me to find him, but then he called out for me, and I couldn’t find him anymore. When I got to the exit, he wasn’t there, and no one can tell me where he is.”

“So, he wasn’t with you in the Hall of Mirrors?”

“Did you just hear me? I told you we went in together. He was only a few feet in front of me, it’s not like I let my fucking kid just run around alone.”

The man held up his hand. “Alright ma’am, there is no need to get upset.”

“No need to get upset.” She stated, shocked at the audacity this man had standing in front of her like everything was normal that was happening to her. “I lost my son. My baby is out there somewhere, and no one will fucking help me.”

Officer Nolan stepped forward and took her by the elbow. “Ma’am, if you keep cursing in front of the children here, we are going to have to take you down to the station to discuss this matter.”

“Matter!” She yelled. “My son is missing; I don’t give a fuck what you think about my goddamn cursing. Find my son!”

“Is it possible that he simply ran away?” The other man asked.

“Ran away? Why would you even think he would run away?”

“Is his father here with you?”

“Why does that matter?”

“I’m simply asking if the boy could be with his father.”

Emma shook her head. “No, his father isn’t around. He’s most definitely not with that asshole.”

“So, the situation with the father, it’s contentious then?”

Emma couldn’t believe the crap she was hearing. “This has nothing to do with his father. He’s lost, he’s probably scared and all you can do is sit here and ask me stupid questions that aren’t doing anything to find him.”

The men looked at each other and nodded, Officer Locksley stepped into the trailer and shut the door behind him. “My partner is just going to talk to the manager and find out if they know anything else.”

“He’s the assistant manager and he knows jack shit.” She said as she rolled her eyes.

The door to the trailer opened and he gestured for his partner to join him. They whispered at the door for a moment and then returned in front of her, closing their notebooks. “Ma’am, I’m going to give you my business card, we can’t do anything about a runaway until after 24 hours. If he still hasn’t come home by then, give us a call.”

“I already fucking told you he’s not a goddamn runaway.”

“Ok ma’am, we’re going to have to take you down to the station if you can’t control yourself.” She felt their hands on her arms and she pulled away from them, holding her hands in the air.

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Well, you can’t stay here.” He announced, looking back at the ridiculous assistant manager who was glaring at her.

“So, I’m supposed to just leave my kid?”

“Most times, they show up in the morning, a little scared, hungry, and apologetic for causing a scare. Go home and get some sleep, they usually show back up at home.”

Emma couldn’t believe this was happening, that she was just supposed to go home and leave Henry out here, lost. She looked toward the fun house, wanting to make a run back to it, wanting to search frantically for anything she could find, but she knew he wasn’t there. Something had happened to Henry.

“Ma’am. We need you to leave or come with us.” They stepped toward her, and Emma backed up from her spot. She surveyed the crowd and then paused.

“I’m going.” She announced, turning on her heels and storming toward the exit. When she got to her house she climbed the stairs, screaming her son’s name, hoping he would answer and explain that he got lost and simply went home, but the house was still, dark, and ominously quiet. She went into Henry’s room and pulled open the curtains, the lights from the fair spilling into the window. She pulled the chair over to the wall and sat down, staring at the scene in front of her. She would wait there until she found him, until he made his way back to the house.

Looking down at her phone, she sent another text to Will asking him to call her immediately. Pulling a blanket around her she sat and waited.

Henry, where are you?

~*~

Henry woke with a start, a painful beating in his head. He reached up and winced at the swollen knot on the back of his skull. He looked around in the dark, trying to figure out where he was. Just moments ago he was in the Hall of Mirrors with his mom, they were playing a game. He remembered seeing her, just a few feet away and then his back hit something solid and then it moved. Arms reached out and grabbed him and then everything went black.

He felt around on the ground below him, dirt digging into his fingernails. There was a small light coming in from a tiny opening up high in the room. He groaned as he tried to sit up.

“Don’t sit up too quickly, I’m sure you’re dizzy.”

He jumped at the sound of a female in the room. “Who’s there?”

A face came into view, the light streaming into the dark onto her golden hair. “It’s ok, just give it a minute. You can see in the dark after you get used to it.”

“My head hurts.” He groaned.

“It will only hurt for a couple of days. Then it will go away.” The girl moved closer to him, sitting down next to him.

“What do you want with me?”

“I’m a friend, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Where are we?”

“Underground. I don’t know really. We move around a lot.”

“Who’s we?”

“Pan’s crew.” The girl said softly, and Henry almost started laughing.

“As in Peter Pan? I must be dreaming. That’s what’s going on. This is a nightmare.”

“I wish it were, but sadly this is real. What’s your name?”

Henry peered at the girl in front of him. “I’m Henry.” Suddenly the shadows moved behind her and he pushed back against the wall.

“Don’t be afraid, they won’t hurt you.”

Henry stared at the faces of the children staring back at him. “Who are you people?”

“We’re the lost ones. Just like you.” She said sadly.

[keltonwrites]

I'm not sure if that's a good thing

“Well you’re definitely the first.” This past week, we screened-in the eastern facing porch on the side of the cabin. The porch slopes to the South, with the brick-on-dirt floor crumbling in that direction as well until it reaches uneven slabs of stone acting as steps down to the “yard” below. A mixed material retaining wall wraps beneath the steps to the south facing garage, holding up one corner of the narrow deck on the front of the house. The deck, in the heat of a high altitude summer, droops off the house like it’s daydreaming about the winter snow’s embrace. It’s safe to sit on, though I would not recommend leaning on the railing.

The side porch takes the brunt of the wind. Our wooden rocking chairs have been rocked some 20 feet into the yard more than once in the two months we lived here. In the myriad of threats we heard about the weather, most people included the wind. We all know how I feel about this ongoing weather intimidation tactic. I asked, “what speed are the gusts?” “Oh, they get up to 70 miles per hour on some days.” This was the first quantifiable piece of weather information someone had offered — an actual number we could react to with data and our historical personal experiences of various weather events. And our reaction was: uhhhh…. OK???? Look, I get it. No one’s preaching the skin benefits of -20 degree wind gusts at 70 mph, building snow drifts against your house in the span of minutes that Cooper could die in. I am not going to pretend that’s pleasant. But 70 mph? Any wind I’ve driven faster than does not intimidate me. I used to rally the horses at 12 years old in winds over 70mph to get them in the barn before the latest tornado whipped through. I helped shutter the resort in the BVI as the Category 5 hurricane rolled in. Even in Topanga, 70 mile per hour gusts were not uncommon in Santa Ana events. We had our single pane windows shatter more than once from debris in the wind. We taped cardboard up and went to sleep. That “70 mph” was all I needed to hear to confirm our next project: we were going to build a catio for these cats, and we were going to do it on the pre-existing porch structure to save time and money. We spent a week framing out the structure. We had to carve into the logs of the house to embed the wood supports for the framing.

And from there, every piece of wood was custom carved and cut to fit around the existing timber supports. The existing porch was so wildly uneven that there are gaps between each piece of old wood and the new framing. Our plan is to mix all the wood chips from the project with mortar/chinking and stuff the gaps — a good solution for the log cabin look. We built a plywood pony wall up to 28 inches from the interior of the porch, which gives a height of ~4-5ft from the exterior ground below. It’s capped with a 2x6” railing for even the fluffiest of cats to find a perch. The exterior will be wrapped with corrugated metal that we’ll quick-age to match the metal that wraps the bottom of the cabin. On the interior of the porch, we’ll use shiplap to hide the framing.

The screens themselves can withstand winds up to 120 mph, but to-be-determined if they can hold the weight of a growing maniac cat who has already tried to climb them. In the event the screens succumb to cat (or wind or snow or neighbor judgment) we’ll reinforce with metal mesh. We’re going to maintain this screen porch regardless of what the screen is. We had the pleasure of running into one of our more industrious neighbors the other day, and Ben asked him, “hey we’re building a screen porch. Is this a terrible idea?” He laughed. “Well you’re definitely the first.” But he liked it. Great way to diminish wind into the house. Simple way to regulate the temperature with massive south-facing windows. And indeed a practical outdoor safe haven for cats in predator territory. Just because you’re the first doesn’t mean you’re foolish — just foolhardy. There’s plenty of that here. This town has the typical mountain town’s truncated version of a colonizers’ history: “established 1881.” But it was plenty established prior to that by the Uncompahgre Band of the Ute Nation, removed by the U.S. Army on September 7, 1881, nearly 140 years ago. The government relocated the Uncompahgre Ute People to Utah, and one year after the Ute were forcibly removed from their ancestral land, San Miguel County split off from Ouray County and was made its own political subdivision in the newly-formed State of Colorado. In 1879, the ore-laden valley already had 50 people living in it, with a new narrow gauge railway only 2 miles away. By 1885, it was a town of 200 people. There was a hotel, a couple saloons, a pool hall. Winters were treacherous; the valley was and is prone to avalanches. But where there’s gold, there’s gumption. The power needed to run the stamp mill to process ore drove innovation. Timber was scarce at such high elevations, so a wood powered steam mill wouldn’t cut it. But the San Miguel River just a few miles down from the mine looked promising. Thus began the development and construction of the Ames Hydroelectric Generating Plant. It was a hit. In fact, it was so successful that the Ames Plant led to the adoption of alternating currents at Niagara Falls and eventually to being adopted worldwide as a viable power solution. The plant remains, but the gold rush obviously didn’t. By 1940, the U.S. Census declared this little town I call home as tied for the lowest population in the country: 2 people. By 1960, it was one of four incorporated towns in the U.S. with no residents. But the joke was on the Census — the town’s single resident was just out of town the day the census came through. 1960 population: 1. By 1980 the population grew to 38, 69 in 1990, and about 180 now. (Plus 51 dogs according to the town’s website.) With modern amenities, it’s easier to be here. Studded snow tires, satellite internet, solar panels, instant coffee. No matter the hardships, there’s the reality of the present. In the 1880s, as the town boomed, the Ouray Times declared, “it will be at no distant day a far more pretentious town than it is now.” That day hasn’t exactly arrived, but I guess it depends on what you consider pretentious. I don’t think the town claims any airs of excellence beyond what’s true. In fact, the town hardly claims anything at all. There’s no sign indicating it’s even here. There’s just the old side and the new side. The new side, the Eastern half, was drawn out in the early 1990s, some 100 years later, and is separated from the Old Town by an avalanche zone—preserved open space for hiking in the summer, preserved open space for surviving in the winter. The town forbids short-term rentals, no one has a fence, dogs roam free, and all the houses have that cabin look to them. A boulder nests in a grove near a trailhead in the center of town with a plaque paying respect to the Utes who called this valley home. There’s no industry here. No businesses allowed. If you want a $7 latte, you can drive the 14 miles required to get it, assuming there’s not an avalanche blocking your path. You can, however, buy a pink lemonade in a

solo cup at the permanent lemonade stand run by the local feral child mafia. Crystals (rocks) can be purchased for an additional cost. We bought one, hoping to buy favor at the same time. The town plan has a few guiding principles, and it’s all in the name of preservation. We must preserve: 1 - the quiet atmosphere 2 - the rustic character 3 - the natural setting

And finally: 4 - protect the health and wellbeing of the people here No snowmobiles, no ATVs, no drones. In fact, the only sign of the outside world here are the passers-through. When you take the dirt road through town to the end, you enter National Forest, and you can hike over the pass saddle at nearly 12,000 feet before descending down the other side into Silverton. The pass road climbs rutted through an aspen forest before scaling across a scree field and then lurching over to the other side. Every day, it seems like 30 or so Texans and Arizonans in lifted and loud Jeeps with unused mods climb over this mountain in the comfort of their air conditioning, simply to drive down the other side. You could hike it, ride it, run it, and ski it, but they don’t. They rev their engines, kicking up dust in a town of feral children and roaming dogs, staring at us instead of waving. I’ve lived here for two months and look how salty I am. I’ll fit in yet. But today, there is a temperature that whispers of perfect trails and the dwindling of ogglers driving 35 in a 15. It’s already snowed in the mountains we see from our kitchen. Today, like a dedication to the Septembers of our youth, you can feel a chill in the air. A temperature akin to pencils and sweaters and reinventing yourself. A temperature that doesn’t exactly sing “screen porch” but could if you had the right slippers on. That’s what I did this morning: put my slippers on and sat there in the cool mountain morning air, thinking about the cemetery behind our house, about the Ute tribe, about the miners, about the mailman who died on Christmas in 1875 on the pass, about the 5 people who died in avalanches here just last year, about the people in their cars on their phones driving through, and all the people who’s very first question to us was, “so are you gonna live here part-time or full-time?” Maybe it will be a hard place to live. But at least we’ll have a screen porch.

Every week I'm writing about moving to log cabin in a small town at 10,000 feet. Subscribe here for free: tinyletter.com/keltonwrites

[heartofsnark]

Can You Feel The Sun? (Chapter Eight): Icarus Falls

Notes: Why, yes, I am posting these relatively quickly. This is the last of a backlog since I’m actively still working on the next chapter, This is a doozy of a chapter, both emotionally and length wise, but I’m rather proud of it, if I’m being honest. I recommend settling in a snack and maybe...just maybe some tissues.... 

Word Count: 15327 

Chapter Warnings:  Multiple deaths, violence, gore, grief, angst. 

If you haven’t yet, you can read the previous chapter here!~

V and Jackie get into the backseat of the Delamain taxi. White and tan leather interior, despite looking the nicest she ever has in twenty years she still feels like she might stain the white leather. No driver, instead there’s screens and consoles in the back of the seats in front of them. An avatar of a bald man with stark unnaturally white skin and blue lips 

“Welcome on board this Delamain service. With Delamain, you leave your problems at the door,” the AI avatar greets them in a robotic voice. 

“Son of a bitch! Better fuckin' believe I will!” Jackie yells out, still grinning. V lets out a breath of air meant to sound like a laugh, but the lump in her throat isn’t making it any easier. 

“I see no reason why you should be using expletives.”

“Sorry, he gets… excited.”  Her voice is tighter than she wants it to be, her leg bouncing now. 

“Damn right, I’m excited. Hey, Del, what about that time I wanted to hire you for my cousin's bachelor party, huh?” 

“Unfortunately, we do not take on such contracts.”

“Three months I'd been savin' up scratch… Egh, water under the bridge. Hit it, Del!”

“Before we begin our journey, I must verify the identities of all customers. Please proceed to connect your personal links,” the mercs plug their personal links into the console, “Thank you. "Excelsior" package activated.”

Crisp subtitles for Delamain alight along her contacts, more comprehensive than the lip reading tech sometimes gives. Maybe his AI avatar enunciates more properly than a human, she wonders. 

“"Excelsior"? Hohoho, this just keeps gettin' better!”

Jackie laughs as the taxi cab starts to drive and V finds herself fiddling with her suit sleeve. It’s perfectly tailored, but she still feels like a kid in dress up. Having to pretend she’s a corpo, having to pretend to be a hearing person. Her bright painted nails seem to clash so much with the persona and she curses herself for not changing the polish. What if they’re caught right away? The corps smelling Heywood and The Badlands on them the second they walk through the door. What if the spoofed SID hack doesn’t work, what if the bot malfunctions… What if, what if, what if; spins around her brain. They can’t fuck this up, there’s no room for mistakes. One disaster will destroy their reputations, hell their entire merc careers. And that's the best case scenario. 

When she glances at Jackie there’s no hint of nerves, no hint of reservation or fear, just giddy excitement. Like a kid getting ready to hit up a party. 

“What’s got you riled up?” She asks in spoken English, deciding she’ll mostly speak for the ride since Jackie is the only person really here, that way he doesn’t have to look at her the entire time. And maybe she’s also hoping if she talks enough she won’t clam up too bad in Konpeki.  

“Hang on, watch this… Delamain! Initiate combat mode!”

She can see the bright red ink of his tattoo peeking from his suit sleeve, eyes drawn to it, and something about that scares her more; a hint of his Valentino roots showing, would it be a literal red flag for Konpeki security. 

“My apologies, but you do not appear to be in any sort of imminent danger,” Delamain crushes Jackie’s hopes, a frown replacing his grin. 

“Huh… Oh well. Trust me, he'll mow down an army of ‘Saka ninjas if it comes down to it,” Jackie explains to V and she wraps her arms around herself, resisting the desire to bring her legs up into the seat, trying to get her mind off her nerves. 

“So, what else is included in Excelsior mode?” V tries signing to the AI, curious if it has translation tech for ASL. 

“Comprehensive health coverage, including the handling and disposal of a client's remains should death occur on board,” Delamain responds without hesitation and instantly ruins any chance of her getting her mind off the massive risks within this job. 

“Damn. Shit got dark pretty quick,” Jackie comments. 

“Dex isn’t skimping though.” 

“And thanks to you, we're still gettin' a juicy forty percent.”

“You’re welcome.” 

“Excelsior…This is how you wanna cruise into the major leagues…” He says like the job is already done and they’re hitting up an after party… 

“Wouldn’t get too excited yet, Jack, doing a job not hitting up a party.” And her words are too sharp, voice too venomous and rough in her throat. She regrets it as soon as they leave her lips, as soon as she’s spoken them into reality, wishing she could swallow them back down. His face drops completely, eyes harsh and she knows she fucked up. 

“For real, V…? See me as that shallow?”

“I-”

“Lemme explain somethin' to you, V… My whole life I've spent in this shit around us! And I ain't goin' back!”

“I’m sorry, really, I just… I’m worried and I let my nerves talk for me, I’m sorry.” She quickly tries to smooth it over, those knots in her gut only winding tighter with Jackie mad at her. 

“Swear to christ, V, I will never fucking get you,” he says, shaking his head and looking out the window.

“What do you mean?” 

“Twenty years old, sitting in the back of a Delamain, on your way to do a job for Dex fuckin’ Deshawn and you can’t even muster a fuckin smile? You fuckin’ know what I’d have done to be where you are right now when I was your age, I was still dreaming of seeing The Afterlife! Took you less than a year to be here, took me ten! And you ain’t even happy about it! Then you act like I’m not takin’ it serious, like I don’t got my fuckin’ head in the game, just cause you can’t appreciate where the fuck you are right now!” 

She chews her lip, not sure what to say to him. Guilt coming over her. He’s right, she hasn’t lived in Night City nor been a merc nearly as long. He’s been doing this since he left the Valentinos… For Jackie this has been a lifelong dream, the ultimate goal. She didn’t even consider it a possibility until she met him and now she’s already on her way there. Of course he’s happy, on the precipice of his dreams coming true. 

“I’m sorry, really I didn’t mean to piss on your parade.” 

“Yet somehow you always do.” 

V sighs watching the city pass outside her window for a few more moments, tapping her fingers, that knot feels like a ball of lead now. She wants to claw her skin off,  tear and tear away at herself, at her being, and maybe, just maybe she’ll find someone better under the gore.  Someone who isn’t such a fucking asshole. Someone who knows how to keep their mouth shut and doesn’t ruin everything for everyone else. She’ll never understand why Jackie puts up with her, why he has for so long. She just doesn’t want to fuck this up. The job, her friendship, the little bit of happiness she’s built. V wrings her hands together, tight enough to hurt and she twists them a little harder, nails digging into the skin. If she can’t find anyone better maybe she’ll just claw away until she’s nothing at all. 

She’s already a bundle of nerves over the heist and she can’t stand another moment of the tension hanging thick in the air. 

“Did you fuck my wife?” She says in her best imitation of something between an Italian and a Brooklyn accent, watching Jackie’s face, the hint of a smile tugging at it. Tension starting to melt ever so slightly. 

“Don’t get me started,” he returns forcing the same cheesy voice. 

“Did you fuck my wife?” 

“I think you fucked my wife and got me started.” 

“I got started cause you fucked my wife.” 

“I could trace back the moment I got started it’d definitely be when you fucked my wife!” 

“That is unquestionably when I got started!” They’re smiling now, giggling at every other word as they choke on their cheesy jokes. Tension melts away as a weight is being lifted off her chest. 

“My records indicate that neither of you are married.” 

And they lose it, laughter filling the car at Delamain’s interjection to their stupidity. Its ridiculous and dumb and they sound like children. But, she’s thankful for the moment, the reprieve, where it’s laughter and not nerves tearing at her guts. 

A call notification lights up on V’s optic contacts, T-Bug’s avatar and V answers, the runner’s voice coming just a moment later. 

“Hey. How's things?”

“Eh,” Jackie answers, “been better, been worse.” 

“We’re nearing our destination,” Delamain tells them and V’s throat tightens. 

“Listen, set up a direct, encrypted line to guide you through Konpeki. V, ring Jackie now, see if we're in sync. Can't be too careful.” 

She puts a call through to Jackie, inteface telling her it’s establishing a secure connection.

“And?” Bug asks, expectantly. 

“Got static,” Jackie cringes, “Say somethin', Bug?”

“The greatest crimes issue from a desire for excess and not from necessity."

“Say what now?”

“Yeah, I read you. Not so much your Greek friend, though it was kind of exciting,” Jackie tells her with the ghost of a smile on his lips. 

“Could give it some thought, try to understand…? How 'bout you, V?”

“I want more Aristotle!” 

“Fuck off, both.”

Jackie and V share a giggle at the runner’s expense, V’s going to miss when Bug goes into retirement. If all works out, even on the brighter side, it may be the last time all three of them work together. But at least Bug will be happy and safe, unlike V or Jackie, this was never her dream or end goal. 

“OK, tech checks out, looks like,” T-Bug confirms. 

“Será mejor que sí…”

“Stay in touch”

And V just realizes the taxi has stopped moving, through Jackie’s window she can see the front entrance of the hotel.  The bright red exterior walls, a worker standing at the ready and those nerves are clawing their way back with a vengeance, tearing up her insides and making her want to bolt, terrified that they’lll be found out as soon as they step foot in. They need to get moving, only way to get through the fear is to take control, do what needs to be done. And hopefully avoid puking in the back of an expensive AI taxi. 

“Thank you for choosing the Delamain service. And best of luck. I shall await here for your return.”

“Shit's finally happenin’… “ 

“Its game time, got any iron left on you, time to put it away,” she tells him, tucking her gun and knife into the center compartment. Jackie following suit. V tugs off her suit jacket and rolls her white sleeves to her elbows, making sure her blades are accessible from the start. 

“Alright, Hannah, let’s go.” 

V opens the door of the Delamain, greeted by the view in front of the hotel, in the distance she can see the space travel facility, night settled over the water. The hotel has trees and plants out front, trying to sprinkle some nature into the cement and chrome world of Night City. She carries her suit jacket over her shoulder, keeping one hand busy with it, while the other sits in her pocket. Hoping it will keep her from signing if she needs to talk. 

“Hold on, lemme grab the Flathead.” Jackie pops the trunk of the taxi and pulls out the case with the bot. 

The mercs take the two marble steps up, a vibrant stript of red along the path.There’s long white marble with planters and the name of the hotel inscripted in gold. 

“'Member, reservation's in your name… Ramón. You're there to meet Hajime Taki - military tech department rep. Papers are for the Flathead” T-Bug tells them as they get closer to the double doors. 

“Welcome to Konpeki Plaza,” a man in a red, black, and gold uniform greets them, bowing his head as they pass by.

There’s a large waiting room, white couches along the sides with monitors displaying documentaries and vases with red hologram plants branching out of them. A security gate divides the waiting room from the front desk, scanners to check each guest for weaponry. Beyond it she can see staff with gold plated skin. All non-security personnel of the hotel are gold plated; receptionists, concierge, bartenders, and the like. A requirement for the job, even staff must match the aesthetic. 

“Welcome to Konpeki Plaza. Please come through single file,” The guard tells them as they reach the full body scanner. 

“You got it, holm-- uh, ahem, sir,” Jackie stumbles and V screams internally, watching her friend step forward. Blue light crackles along him, like lightning, then it flashes red. Misty’s warning of mean reds, flaring in V’s mind. 

“Ahem. Hold on got something,” the guard stops Jackie before he can go any further, “Sir, care to explain why you're bringin’ a combat bot onto Konpeki Plaza premises?”

“Arms dealers.” V yells out quickly, hating how forced it sounds, tightening her fingers in her jacket, desperate not to sign on instinct and not realizing she forgot the ‘we’re’ part of her sentence until she finished saying it. 

“Excuse me?”

“Ah!” A gold skinned concierge steps over,  “You are here to see Taki-san, am I right? Please accept my apologies for the confusion.” 

“Pff,” Jackie scoffs as the concierge bows and walks into the lobby, waiting at the front desk. 

V steps into the scanner, guard assuring her it will only take a moment. It distorts her vision, crackling it with blue for just a moment. Then the guard tells her to go ahead and she walks forward, meeting Jackie at the desk. A woman with gold skin, black hair all shaved except for the bangs and sidelocks greets them.  And V is starting to notice that the Arasaka logo is everywhere, the corp hotel owned by them. On the screens, gold emblazoned on marble planters, and on pamphlets. The hotel and Arasaka logo are clearly one in the same. 

“Youkoso. Greetings and welcome to Konpeki Plaza,” she says bowing her head to them and V returns the gesture.

“We’d like to check in,” Jackie says and V sends him a silent thanks for talking. .

“Of course, just a moment, please” the receptionist taps away at a keyboard, “The name on the reservation is…?”

“Victorino.”

“Double room, two adults, one night. Correct?”

“That’s the one,” V tells her, with a tight nod. 

“Perfect… I will go ahead and notify Taki-san of your arrival.”

“Shit, no good, not part of the plan. Talk her up, V, stall!” T-Bug yells out over the call and V is once again wanting to scream. 

“That, uh,  won't be necessary,” she curses herself for stuttering, “We'll go freshen up first, notify him ourselves.”

“But Taki-san is expecting you, no…?”

“Senorita, do you know how long we been traveling? Eighteen hours from New Barcelona. With a delay on Metakey 'cause some cyberpsycho blew himself into bits inside the terminal…”

“Been a nightmare, ugh.” 

“Of course, I understand. You will be in the Lapis Lazuli Suite on level forty-two. Oh, one more little formality… Please validate your SID chip.”

“Honor's all yours, Hannah.” 

A tablet on the table lights up with a bright blue handprint and she’s reminding of her issue getting into her own apartment. Bug said she put a temporary hack on their SID chip, but there’s an extra twinge of anxiety as V lays her hand down on it. She half expects it to show a senior citizen, to be outed as a fraud and tossed out the door. 

“Everything seems to be in order. We wish you a pleasant stay!~” 

“Better get goin'.”

V murmurs a thanks, feeling a bit of relief at having that part of this whole thing done. Playing corpo is somehow more stressful to her than the idea of breaking into Yorinobu’s penthouse. She follows behind Jackie. Large marble planters fill the lobby, some with trees that nearly touch the staggeringly high ceiling. 

“New Barcelona? Really?” T-Bug comments as V follows Jackie up a short set of marble steps. 

“It's called improvisin' - you should try it,” V stares up at a gold framed painting, “Whaddaya think, Hannah"?

“...” V raises an eyebrow at him with a soft noise in her throat. 

“Quaint, cozy. Not like the hotel we had in Zurich for that convention.”

“Don't need that, Jack. Enough.”

“What? I’m takin’ this seriously!” Jackie grumbles when T-Bug scolds him. 

They take two turns through the lobby, guards passing by talking about dolls being left in rough shape as they near what looks to be a bar in the corner. It's an open pathway inside, the bar illuminated in pink and a gold plated woman stands at a podium bearing Arasaka’s logo. There’s a lit collection of alcohol behind the bar, liquor that costs more than V’s rent, which isn’t a hard feat but still rubs her the wrong way. 

“Bar don't look too shabby.”

“We don't do reservations on weekdays, so feel free to grab any available table. Or a couple of stools at the bar if you prefer?” She explains to them, a valley girl accent to her words. 

“Could bring Misty here one day. When we, uh… close this deal.”

“Might take a look around.” 

The idea of sitting down, if only for a moment, and catching her breath after the close call in the lobby sounds nice. Her nerves are frayed already, she’s never wanted to drink so much on a job before. A quick breather before she has a full blown panic attack. 

“Shit,” Jackie curses, “look like some fuckin' travelin' salesman with this case. Go ahead, I’ll go on upstairs.” 

V nods, watching Jackie go to the elevator, a part of her feels guilty, but she doesn’t intend to take too long. And it’s not as if she’s made visiting bars on the job a habit before, she can have this one. She rubs a hand over the back of her neck, feeling the chrome indents of her Mantis Blades cooling the skin. Half of the room is a lounge with black couches and slick pink metallic chairs, terrariums built into the walls. The other half is, gold stools and booths before the neon pink bar. Each side is filled with people mingling, dressed in high fashion, people who’ve gambled away more money than she’s ever seen. 

“And when I say heads're gonna roll, I don't mean it as a fucking turn of phrase,” a half drunk man slurs his speech at the golden bartender. The stench of whiskey clings heavy to his clothes. 

“Had enough guy, don’t you think? You’re making the other customers uncomfortable,” the bartender sends a pointed look towards V, a slight twang in his voice. She was looking for a breather, not conflict. 

“Good! 'Cause this affects them, too! It'll slap everyone in the face!” 

“What’s that?’ She entertains him, figuring it might get the guy gone sooner. 

“You wanna know what a bearer of bad news looks like? What's four hundred yards long, weighs a hundred thousand tons, and is nuclear powered…? The answer's docked in the bay! Hanako Arasaka decided -,” he hiccups, “decided to take a little vacation!

“Big deal.”

“Don't know how big just yet,” her sarcasm doesn’t penetrate the fog of whiskey, “And by the time we do, it'll.. it'll be too late. Screw this. I'm gonna get some sleep…”

With that the man stumbles away, taking the too strong smell of booze with him and the shining bartender turns to her. His shaved hair either red or pink, color distorted in the glowing light. 

“Evenin, what can I get you, baby?” 

Her nose wrinkles at the term of endearment, “little forward, don’t you think?” 

“Suckled it outta my ma's very breast,” he returns, “Fifty percent protein, the other half pure high octane CHOOH2.” 

He presses two gilded hands to the bar leaning forward as he regales his story and she can’t help but raise an eyebrow; he’s implying he’s a nomad, but why would he tell her that? 

“What?” 

“She had wind and dust in her hair, so to speak. Belonged to the Aldecaldos. Before the bombs began fallin'. Her final words? ‘Wherever you go, whatever you do, be yourself, David.’ And so I ended up here. Still no one but myself.” 

He’s full of shit, she decides immediately. Maybe her own distrust or her own frustration, nobody with nomad blood would end up here, gold plated and slinging drinks to corpos. At the very fucking least, they wouldn’t act so damn happy about it. 

“Lovely story if it wasn’t a crock of shit.” 

“Everyone's making something up,” he smirks, “Just like you, baby.”

“Excuse you?” she chokes out, feeling like ice water has been shot through her veins. He’s seen through her, that implication clear, but how? Even regaling to her some fucked up story of being a nomad, like he could smell the dust of the badlands still on her skin. 

“Can I getcha somethin'? At the least, water?” 

“Bourbon and cherry coke.” 

“You got it, baby.” 

The repeated use of the pet name earns him a glare, V tapping her fingers against the bar, his story and perceptiveness making her nerves worse. He sets the drink on the table and she downs it with a gulp, alcohol not quite loosening her how she hopes. She sets the glass down and leaves the bar, it may be petty but she doesn’t leave him a tip, frustrated at the idea he could have seen through her. 

She jabs the elevator button, tapping her foot as she waits and stares at some painting. Its all abstract bullshit, pretty colors, but she’s not sure she sees much else to them. The golden doors open, the back of the elevator windowed with what looks like foliage inside, maybe it’s just a screen. V steps inside and jabs to her level. And after just a short ride, it stops  at her floor. 

The doors open and she sees Jackie, looking over one of the art pieces, walking past a desk and concierge to greet him. 

“About time,” he says, when he spots her, the pair making a beeline to the suite. They walk past a couple speaking Russian, talking about testing on people, as they find the door. 

Jackie opens the door and she gets her first peek of it, stepping in. The furthest wall almost entirely windowed, looking out over the hills. Another expanse dedicated to a terrarium, a large plush bed, white sofas, and a table projecting hologram displays of fish. V tosses her suit jacket off onto the couch. 

“Pretty snazzy. Too bad we ain't stayin' the night. Nice choice, Bug.” 

“Didn't pick it for snazz. Offers quickest access to the dweller and servers.”

“Sí, sí, me acuerdo,” jackie grumbles as he puts the Flathead case down on a table in front of the terrarium. The little spider bot springs to life the second it’s case is opened. 

“Now you fire up the Flathead and find the shaft entrance.” 

“Sounds simple enough…” 

“Simplicity's sometimes toughest to master,” T-Bug tells her. 

“Aurelius? Aristotle? Who's it this time?”

“Yours truly, that one's mine.”

“Go ahead and find the shaft, chica, I’ll get the Flathead running.” 

V nods and begins looking around the room, scanning around, finding the shaft after a short moment. A little square panel standing out on the wall next to the terrarium, scanner telling her it’s Flathead compatible. 

“Found it.” 

“Good. Jackie, how's the Flathead lookin'?” T-Bug asks, he’s put the control shard in one of his neuroports while V was looking for the shaft, eyes now glowing bright white blue. 

“All set. Systems’re operational, charge at a hundred…,” a moment passes his expression furrowing as he shakes his head, “Mierda.  Little gonk's stuck.”

“Just gonna stand there and look at it? Gonna have to switch to manual control. V, take the control shard from Jackie. Gonna link your Kiroshis to surveillance so you can guide the bot.”

“Why me, Jack’s got full blown optics?”  She asks, as he pulls the control shard from his head. 

“Yeah, but you got better tech, unlike someone I ain’t run up my tab with Vik. Got last-gen firmware low flow. May be contacts, but you’re working with top notch Kiroshi tech.” 

“Plus someone already has some playtime with the bot,” T-Bug outs her and Jackie raises an eyebrow at V, a teasing smile on his lips. 

“You played with the bot?”

“Just… give me the shard,” she takes it from Jackie’s hand, “Surveillance cover the whole hotel?”

“Mhm. Even the bedrooms in the suites.”

“Seriously?” 

“You'd be surprised what people're willin' to give up to feel secure. Lucky for us, Yorinobu's an exception. Penthouse is dark, no hotel security.’

“Okay, here goes.” V pushes the control shard into the slot, the interface says it’s connecting her, then it glitches and in a moment she’s looking at herself and Jackie through the surveillance camera. 

“Patching you through to in-cam view. Might get a little disoriented, but don't freak”

Her vision switches between rooms; a man getting a lap dance from a doll in a dimly room, two men in another hotel room. And then it lands on a third room. A meeting of four people; two Arasaka suits and two faces she vaguely recognizes. The view doesn't shift again and she takes the chance to look closer, talks of losing control of Watson, election season. And it clicks, the mayor of Night City. 

“Camera’s set,” V tells Bug, political bullshit isn’t her business, she can see the vague outline of the Flathead creeping into the room.  Only slightly visible to her thanks to her connection, 

“Get him to the next vent.”

V scans and finds the next vent shaft tucked in the corner of the room, sending the Flathead to it. She watches as it crawls and creeps through the room. 

“C’mon little buddy, you got it, yes,” She cheers on the little machine as it skitters across the camera and into the vent. 

“It’s a Military grade combat bot, not your pet, V. Patching you into the next cam now.” 

The next room appears, more brightly lit with two maids working to clean it. V goes to send the Flathead into the vent but the request is denied, detecting one of the cleaning ladies is too far into it’s path. 

“Cleaning crew’s in the way,” V tells Bug, listening to one of the women start drooling over Yorinobu. 

“Gotta distract her. Hmm, let's see what's on the subnet…temp control on the terrarium, sic the bot on it.” 

V follows the runner’s orders scanning and sending the Flathead onto the temp control. Barely a moment passes before the maid’s notice, freaking out about how expensive it is. The merc takes her chance and sends the bot into the unblocked vent shaft. 

“Little guy’s through.”

Next cam flickers into a green tinted maintenance hallway, the bots legs tinkering across the floor. Vent on the other side of the room, V sends it through, smiling as her little buddy makes his way through. And it brings her to a new camera, it looks like where the surveillance feeds lead to. A console and row of screens with a security guard watching them. 

“Dweller's just beyond the door. Flathead can jimmy the lock.”

V sends the command, watching it scamper to the door, tendrils working at the lock. But nothing gives away. 

“He’s having some trouble, poor feller.” 

“Shit… Gotta be another way. Lemme think… Got another cam other side of the door, but it's disabled.’

“Got a CCTV port, might be able to enable it.” 

“Go for it.” 

The Flathead creeps across the room and jacks into the port, giving V access to the other camera. And V switches her vision to it, the next room looks like a high tech runner’s nest. Two netrunning chairs in deep cooled divots within the room. But only one is in use, a man jacked into the security frame, illuminated in blue, screens running code around him. 

“Dweller’s inside.”

“Just as planned.”

“Still don’t get why they only have the one.” 

“Decent dweller's as good as a dozen rank-and-file. Lemme graft a demonoid onto your link, you’ll be able to jack the bot directly into the chair and neutralize the runner.” 

“Got’cha” 

“You'll have to get the Flathead in there first, though.” 

“Got another shaft grate,” V finds when she twists the camera’s view, there had to be a vent in the other room, servers lining the walls. Bad ventilation and the entire operation overheats. 

“Shaft may link both rooms, looks like. Toggle to the other cam.” 

V does so, a moment of scanning and she finds a hidden shaft grate in the floor, “Think I got it.”

“Send the Flathead over there, then toggle over to the second cam.”

She waits until the bot is prying open the vent in the surveillance room, then flickers back over to the runner’s den, eyes on the vent and hoping she didn’t send their tech into the wrong room. A moment passes and she sees her robotic friend creeping his way out. 

“Our friend’s inside.” 

“Flathead into the chair, V, jack in.” 

The bot crawls across the floor and into the netrunner’s cubby, creeping up the chair and scuttling over the man’s body. Deep in the subnet the man doesn’t stir or even notice as the bot hovers over his face and jacks into the chair. And the code across the screen glitches, replaced by a T. 

“Holy shit.” 

“Whoop! Got him! Love those daemons!” Bug cheers, louder and more excited than V has ever heard her. They did it, the bot is in, T-Bug has access to it all. 

“Uh, Flathead buddy stays, right?” 

“To keep an eye on the dweller, yeah. Punching into Konpeki’s main net. Go ahead and log out.” 

The young merc’s vision starts to glitch and flicker red, her pulling the shard from her head, everything spinning. Lightheaded and her body feels both too light and too heavy. Like she could collapse and float away all at once. 

“That's how it's done! How ya feelin'?” Jackie asks, concern lacing his voice. 

“Like I’m about to puke on a rug worth more than my car.” 

“Bug? How're you doin' on time?” The runner doesn’t respond right away, a moment too long passing. 

“Bug?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I'm here. Soooo listen, ICE is thicker than I thought. Piercing it'll take a couple hours.” 

“A couple hours?! Can't do it any faster?”

“Want my brain to burst into flames? Just siddown and enjoy your snazzy suite.”

“Thanks, I will! V, you take it easy, c’mon rest for a bit.” 

V doesn’t need anymore prodding, settling down onto the white sofa, hoping her head will stop spinning and stomach cease churning by the time Bug is done. The merc kicks off her heels and lays across the sofa, softer than her bed. Jackie sitting across on the other side of the table, V brings her hand up to her face, trying to block out the blue light from the holo projector. But catches herself looking at the bracelet Misty gave her, the way the beads catch the light, remembering the name of it. 

“Hey, what was our suite’s name again?” 

“Lapis lazuli, why?” 

“Isn’t that what Misty’s bracelets are? The blue beads with the gold.” 

“Oh...yeah, ain’t that some shit, must be a good sign.” 

“Maybe… she read your cards before this?” 

“Nah, didn’t get a chance, nagged me about mean reds though. What about you, cards in your favor?” 

“All I remember is something about a magician and love, blegh.” 

“Hehehe,” his laughter is warm and fills the huge room, “telling you, one day you’re gonna be head over heels with some chiccy or mano and you’re not gonna know what to do with yourself.” 

“That how it was with you and Misty?” 

“Pssh, knew I was crazy about her from day one, took a while to work up the nerve though one day I just told her the truth.” 

“That you were in loooove~.”

“More like I’d take a bullet for her, chica.”

“Romantic.” 

“Fuck yeah it is, in Night City, that’s worth a billion I love yous.” 

“So you say.” 

“Keep doing that and you’re gonna rub the finish off Vik’s work,” Jackie tells her and she realizes she’s been rubbing and fiddling with her implants, “be a waste for free work to be ruined.” 

“I’m gonna pay him.” 

“You give him anything upfront, even a dime?” 

“I… gave him a hug…” 

“Wow,” Jackie says half laughing and she’s laughing too, “a whole hug for top of the line chrome! Probably wasn’t even a real hug, just your half ass shit!” 

“I may have only used one arm.” 

“Santa mierda, V, gotta learn to hug people like you mean it.” 

“Yes, yes,” she yawns, “blah blah blah, never know which hug will be the last one, blah….” 

“Flathead wear you out that bad?” 

“Maybe a little…” Her stomach feels better, but her head is still light, fuzzy. And in the plush of the sofa, with Jackie close by, she finds herself drifting away. Eyelids getting heavier with each word, each lull of his voice. She didn’t drink much, but she’s sure the bourbon didn’t help. 

“Gonna be a while, might as well catch a cat nap, chica. Though Bug might not like it, haven’t quite managed to get the stick out of her ass.”  

“Yeah..maybe…” 

The world fades away, a soft fuzzy sleep taking over. Time ticks by around her as she catches a moment, or maybe several, to sleep. Her brain is still a little foggy, but the dizziness is gone by the time she slowly starts to wake back up. A bad case of cottonmouth as she wakes, world filtering back in. 

Her suit jacket is tossed over her, a makeshift blanket she didn’t put there, she rolls over to sit, more stable than she was before. The time on the terrarium panel tells her only an hour or two has passed.  Jackie’s back is too her, his eyes staring at the window. And she finds herself staring, standing in a suit and basked in the lights of the city view, he’s never seemed so serious. 

“Whaddaya think? Why'd he give it all up?” He asks after a moment and she blinks, brain still foggy. 

“Who?” 

"Yorinobu Arasaka. The good life, I mean. Old news, I know. Just got to thinkin's all. It's like, think… You got everything, right? Eddies, education. Your pops can snap his fingers and turn half the fuckin’ planet into a nuclear wasteland… But instead you're like, ‘Nah, fuck it,’ and whaddaya go do? Start a fuckin' gang! Steel Dragons or some shit! You ghost from your fam, chip some RealSkinn and play gang leader for a few years. For what?!” 

She can sense the frustration in every word, feel it every clench of his fingers or swing of his hands. Someone like Yorinobu was handed everything he could ever want; tried to piss it away to play edgerunner, then found himself sucking the silver spoon once again.  But, she can’t blame him for wanting out from under his father’s thumb; that alone a feeling she knows too well. Her fingers hover over her wrist, the still branded flesh that Vik saved. 

“Maybe...he just wanted out of the system.” 

“So then why’d he come back.” 

“Tough to ditch the system when the system’s your own family,” V admits, finger still on the mark. 

“Black sheep’s still a sheep, eh?” 

“Maybe…” 

It took her forever to get the nerve to leave, she talked about it constantly, but it wasn’t until her mother’s death, murder, culling. Whatever she’s meant to call it, that she finally was pushed to make that move. Been gone for years now, but… more days than she cares to admit were spent wondering if she ever should have run, if she should crawl back and beg. If a family that hates her is better than no family at all… 

“Crawled back on all fours, tail between his legs, fuckin’ cheap ass rebel. Fuckin’ tourist!” 

Her nails dig into her skin; insecurities brimming, fear that maybe she’s just as much a fuckin’ tourist. Some black sheep nomad who’ll go running back to her dad, beg for another chance, playing pretend merc when all she’ll ever be is the family burden. 

“Tourist or not, he just walked into the lobby. And we are back in biz. Penthouse security is neutralized.”

“Perfecto, let’s start this show.”

And with those words, they’re back in business, the younger merc up on her feet. V grabbing her jacket and following Jackie out of the suite, fiddling with the fabric as she walks, heels clicking across the floor. 

“Hey, Bug…” Jackie says after a beat of silence,  “were, uh… were you on comms that whole time?”

“Three and a half hours.”

“Eehh… about that stick up the ass…”

“Mean the one up mine?”

“Ehh, slip of the tongue, y'know…”

“I know. Now's your chance to make up to me,” T-Bug tells him as they reach the elevator, Jackie pressing the button. 

“This is going pretty smooth right,” he turns to V as they wait, “right?” 

“Really are a silver lining type, ain’t ya?” V teases as the doors open and they step into the elevator. 

“Hey, when are you gonna wave off that dark cloud hanging over your head? Tellin’ you, it’s downhill from on in.” 

She rolls her eyes and hits the button to the penthouse, elevator doors closing and the carriage rumbling, shaking as it ascends. Silence falling over them, only the sound of the elevator. Jackie’s leg shakes and she knows that silence is about to end. 

“Ahh, there's the awkward silence. You, uh, wanna hear a joke?”

“Now? Seriously?”

“OK, so why'd the rockerboy's output kick him out of the apartment? ‘Cause he wasn't chippin' in.” Jackie cackles at his own joke and V rolls her eyes, a slight smile on her lips. 

“Jesus Christ…” 

Bug sounds a moment away from killing him, but thankfully for the older merc’s sake, the elevator comes to a stop. Doors opening up to Yorinobu’s suite. It feel different, seeing it from her own perspective instead of Evelyn’s and outside of a braindance editor. The entire suit feels bigger. A part of her wonders if it’s the height difference between herself and Evelyn, but decides to chalk it up to braindance shit instead. 

“Huh… not bad bein' heir to the Arasaka empire. Sure as shit better'n bein' the son of Raúl Welles,” Jackie comments taking in the room. 

V turns the corner through the room and a tank catches her eye. A slightly red light illuminating an iguana. It immediately reminds her of the only other iguana she knows, Manny. Come to think of it, his original crate was from Arasaka? 

“Hey, Jackie, look!” 

“Whoa, another fuckin’ iguana, not as cute as Manny though.” 

“Manny’s original crate was marked Arasaka; think he might’ve been Yorinobu’s before we klepped him?” 

“Think we stole his iguana and made him get a new one?” 

“Maybe?”  She gently taps the tank glass, watching the iguana’s tail flick back and forth. 

“Guys! Focus! The safe! And make it quick!” Bug yells out, bringing the merc’s back down to earth. V tosses her jacket onto one of the seats in the center, searching around the penthouse. Rain patters outside the windowed walls. They know where the safe is, but how do they get it out of the floor?

“Why, what's the rush?”

“Sig on Yorinobu's gone dark!”

“What is he, a fuckin' sorcerer?”

“Some kinda dead zone's my guess - have him back in a sec. And you do your damn job! Look around for a switch.”

V walks around one of the dividers where Yorinobu’s bed is, the slick metal of a gun catching her eye first and foremost. Black and gray, with purple detailing. She checks it for ammo and finds it loaded then decides it’s hers. 

“Looks like Yori left us a little gift,” she laughs, tucking the iron in her waistband. And on the other side of the bed, she finds a little switch. She presses it. 

“Bingo, got somethin' ejectin’! C'mere, V!” Jackie calls her over to the corner of the room, heart pounding in her chest.

They’re so close to the finish line, each click of her heels feeling like a step closer. This could actually work. A large black safe has risen out of the floor, a small jack in port and two red lights. Jackie stands on one side of it, the gray rainy day behind him. 

“What now, Bug?” 

“Jack in your personal and make us rich.” 

V plugs her personal link in, leaning one hand against the safe. Jackie leans against it from the other side, foreheads nearly touch as they wait for Bug to work her magic. Just get the chip and walk out, that’s all that’s left. All they need to do. She can’t stand still, itching to cross the finish line, minutes away from the major leagues. 

“Gimme two…”

The merc’s interface shows Bug uploading the daemons to crack the case and V watches the number rise. Sixty percent, seventy, seventy-five; each ticking number another shaky breath, a rising beat of her heart, and a chill up her spine. Homestretch, nearly there. 

And there’s a hum, V’s focus drawn away from the rising percentage, to the windows. Flying AV whirring through the gray skies, hovering around. She looks to Jackie, hoping somehow he’ll have an explanation, something to help her ignore the way her stomach is starting to drop. 

“We got winged visitors… Bug…?” There’s catch in his voice, nerves. Jackie’s scared and she swallows the lump in her throat. His face illuminated in the red flashing lights of the case, mean reds, the words flash in V’s mind. 

“Dunno who. But staffs abuzz, all two hundred on their feet, can't keep still…” 

Somethings wrong, the hair on the back of her neck stands up, a chill in her she can’t shake. Something is so fucking wrong. 

“Can't say I like this, how much longer, T?!”

“Shit. Yorinobu's penthouse bound!”

“What!?”V’s voice cracks, digging her nails into the safe, they’re fucked. They’re so fucked. 

“Fuck him!” Jackie slams his hand down, rattling the container, “Open the safe!” 

“Almost got it… Done!”  The safe opens, revealing a cryo-container within. Bright white light and a fog of ice cold air coming with it. V rips her personal jack out. 

“Preem, lets get the fuck out of here!”  

“Lemme look to this, eh?” Jackie says, pulling the container out and looking at the little screens across it. 

“Relic intact?” 

"Bioshard integrity - one hundred percent." Guessin' that's a yes,” Jackie reads off the vitals of the shard, picking up the case. 

“Good,  let’s delta.” 

The pair nearly trip through the center of the penthouse, rushing towards the elevator with Jackie lugging behind the giant cryo-container. So close, so close, so fucking close. An elevator and taxi ride away, then they’ll be at The Afterlife counting their eddies. The homestretch. 

“Fuck, too late!” T-Bug yells before V can hit the elevator button, “Yorinobu's about to walk in - find cover!

“Where in the fuck!?” V swings her hands as she yells, they’re so fucking close. She rakes her nails across her face, leaving red angry marks down her skin. 

“That pillar- try that!” 

“You fuckin' kiddin'?!” Jackie screams as the mercs make a move to the pillar in the center of the penthouse, were she thought servers for the room were kept. The back of it opening up and allowing a tight passageway. 

“No! Inside it! Now!” 

V slips inside as quickly as she can, Jackie following suit. He holds the cry-container close to his chest. The glass barrier is one way, they can see out, but it can’t be seen in. Still not ideal cover, ideally they’d be outside of the fucking hotel by now. The merc presses her hands to the glass, cursing under her breath. 

“We’re in,” she whispers to Bug.

“Which don't solve our problem, T.”

“I fuckin' know our problem's still there! Lemme think for a sec, okay?” 

The lights to the penthouse come on, elevator doors opening as Yorinobu strides in. with mechanical monstrosity of a body guard from the BD taking large whirring steps after him. And he seems even bigger now. He’s a cyber giant, one mech hand larger than  any part of V. 

He’s outlined in red, his eyes staring straight at her,  Vik said her new contacts would highlight if enemies saw her.. No, there’s no possible way. The man has barely set a borged-out foot into the room. She meets his gaze head on, swallowing the lump in her throat as she tries to seem braver than she is. On the off chance he may truly know the mercs are there. 

“Is that… Is that Adam Smasher?” Jackie whispers and V trusts him to look at her hands  as she signs, not wanting to break eye contact with the robotic monstrosity, refusing to show weakness.

“Bodyguard?” 

“Worse,” her trust in her friend is well placed, “Night City legend. Bleak motherfuckin' one, too. What's the plan?”

“We stay quiet and we wait.” 

A flash of movement makes V finally break the stare down, Yorinobu walks to the middle of the room and stops at the seat across from the table, black fabric strewn across it. He picks it up, regarding it for a moment and her heart drops into her stomach. 

V’s jacket. She left her fucking jacket on his chair, like an idiot, she didn’t even have time to consider grabbing it. They’re going to die because she left her fucking jacket out in the open and Adam Smasher is still staring at her. 

She half expects Yorinobu to call a sweep of the room, ring security, that he’ll realize the random jacket must be an intruder. But he shakes his head, tosses it aside onto the floor, not giving it another thought. While his body guard Smasher lingers in the corner, robotic eyes staring straight at V, watching the mercs squirm. 

“Are they here yet?” Yorinobu asks out loud. 

“They approach from the landing pad,” an AI voice responds. 

“Fuck are they talking about?” V resists the urge to elbow Jackie, silence has never been more important. One sound too loud and a borged out psycho will rip their heads off. And if her contacts are right, Smasher may just be waiting for the perfect opportunity. 

“Nuh-uh, no fucking way…. This isn't happening…!” T-Bug whispers over comms and V sees someone coming down the spiraling stairs, a guard it seems, with another older man following him, “Saburo Arasaka.” 

The second man is older, much older than the first. Balding with gray hairs and liver spots across his scalp, glasses perched high upon his nose. Dressed in a mixture of yukata robes over what seems to be slacks and loafers he takes slow measured steps down the stairs. The head capitalist himself, owner of Arasaka. 

“The emperor? Yet another asslickin' legend….” 

V taps Jackie’s side and puts her finger to her lips, encouraging him to be quiet. The man who led Saburo in starts to walk around the room. He’s older than V or Jackie, but nowhere near Saburo’s age. Long graying dark hair pulled back in a bun, cyberware across his neck coming out from under his black suit. 

“I thought I told you not to meddle in my affairs,” Yorinobu speaks in his native tongue, V’s contacts translating and subtitling to English. 

“Oh fuck,” Jackie curses as the long haired guard comes to stand in front of them, silver ringed brown eyes starting to scan them. 

“Leave us,” Saburo orders and the guard stops scanning, turning to face the corporate leader. 

“Arasaka-sama, I still haven't done a full sweep.” The guard turns his back and V can see where part of his hair is shaved, allowing intense cyberware extending beyond his neck and towards his scalp. 

“This is my son.”

“Of course. Should I retrieve what we come here to-” 

“I will handle it. You may go.”

The long haired guard bows and goes to leave the room, finally Adam Smasher’s gaze on her drops, as the borged freak leaves with the guard through the elevator doors. If they’re here to retrieve something… it’s likely the biochip, which means if they go to get it and see it’s gone… They’re fucked. They’re straight fucked. 

“Un-fucking-believable… Saburo Arasaka.” That comment makes V nudge Jackie with her foot, once again begging him to just stay quiet. 

“Did you think I wouldn't know it was taken from me?” Saburo asks his son, barely making eye contact as Yorinobu looks through a datapad. 

“Actually, I don't think of you at all. Ever. You see, that's your problem. You think the world revolves around you. Arrogant.” 

“Yorinobu.” 

“Why did you come? To humiliate me? To personally see to it that your son knows his place?”

“"The nail that protrudes from the wall gets hammered…"

“Couldn't think of anything original to say?” Yorinobu yells in exasperation, standing up and pacing around the room.  He’s on edge, looking ready to jump out of his skin and V can’t say she has a good feeling about any of this. 

“And do you think it ‘original’ to sell our greatest achievement to Westerners - our future to these… barbarians?!”

It’s definitely the biochip Saburo is after, they’re screwed, monumentally screwed. V would laugh if she didn’t feel like dying, of course, of course it all goes to shit. 

“Our future? Ours?! You are mistaken. You've only ever cared about yourself… and your sick schemes.” Yorinobu points and swings his limbs, still pacing, every word coiled tight with barely restrained hatred. 

“I knew this day would come. That sooner or later your impudence would cross the line,” Saburo is calmer, measured, taking soft steps towards his son, “There is much for which I could forgive you, but for treason - no.” 

The two men, father and son now stand in front of the pillar before an audience they don’t know. Stares trained on each other, each hateful, but one furious in it’s spite and the other calm in it’s contempt. Moments pass, no word said, each waiting for the other to light a fuse that will set off the powder keg. 

“I'm just glad your mother didn't live to see this. The heart should break but once.” 

And it goes off. Saburo’s words are punctuated by Yorinobu’s hands wrapping tightly around the old man’s throat. Yorinobu slams his father back against the pillar, cracking the glass in front of Jackie and busting open Saburo’s head. Blood streaking the shards. And he pulls away and for a moment, as Saburo clutches at his crushed windpipe, Yorinobu seems nearly regretful. 

“You shall never have to forgive me for anything again.” 

His hands wrap again, choking his father against the pillar. Until Saburo starts to fall limp, Yorinobu bringing him down onto the floor in a lifeless heap. Yorinobu stands over his father. Saburo is dead, killed before the merc’s very eyes at the hands of his own son. Jackie curses and V watches as Yorinobu paces, mind clearly racing before he stands over his father’s corpse again. 

“I wish… I wish to put the hotel on lockdown.” 

What does that mean? What the hell does that mean?

“May I ask why?” The AI secretary asks him. 

“Saburo Arasaka has been murdered.”

“Code red initiated. Attention! Code Red has been initiated throughout Konpeki Plaza. Please remain in your rooms and follow all instructions given by staff.”

Oh no, oh fuck no. The lights in the room drop, only bright neon red ones glowing angry in the dark. What the hell is going to happen? What the fuck do they do now? The elevator doors open, Smasher and the long haired guard walking in; the latter rushes and comes to a full stop when he sees Saburo’s corpse. 

“What happened?”

“Someone… someone poisoned my father.”

“Poisoned…?” 

“Seems so.” 

“Yorinobu-san… I doubt…”

Yorinobu glowers at the guard, pushing into his personal space, trying to intimdate him. Trying to make him stop questioning what happened, trying to stop him from looking any closer. Anyone who gets a good look at Saburo’s corpse will see the fingerprints around his neck. 

“What is your job, Takemura?”

“I don't follow.”

“It's a simple question. Answer it.”

“To protect the head of the Arasaka family.”

“I do sincerely hope you'll do a better job of executing your duties from now on…”

“Forgive me, Arasaka-sama,” the guard drops his head in shame, “I shall not disappoint.” 

Yorinobu turns to leave the suite. The guard, Takemura, follows close behind. And the still red highlighted Smasher follows behind him. The elevator doors close behind them. Jackie and V left alone in the suite again. But what the fuck just happened? 

“What the fuck just happened in there?” T-Bug asks, exactly what’s rattling around V’s skull as the pillar back opens again. Jackie and V clambering out. 

“Yorinobu just killed Saburo, he fucking choked out his own dad, I didn’t even know you could do that!” V rambles and yells as she turns the corner of the pillar, looking down at Saburo’s corpse. She quickly checks his pockets, stealing some cash and a pair of dog tags off of him. 

“What?” 

“His own fuckin’ pops.” 

“Know what this means?l Security's gonna swarm the place any second. Oh my god, we're so fucked!”

“We need to get the fuck out of here, now!” They can’t just go out the elevator, they’d meet security on the way. They’re beyond fucked. Why the hell did they take this stupid fucking job!?

“Gimme a sec!”

There’s the helipad, but it’s not like they have anything that fucking flies. Think, think, think; she screams in her head to just fucking think, there has to be something, anything. 

“We don't have a sec!”

“Okay, got somethin'! Window - now! Releasing the lock! Should see a ladder… Ladder…” 

V sees an opening in the large windowed walls, double doors practically made of glass they goes onto the ledge. This has to be in, T-Bug can undo the lock and they’ll slip out. 

“Oh fuck.” T-Bugs voice drops and a chill shoots up V’s back, something is wrong. 

“Bug!?” 

“No, no, no, no - not now…! I’ve been made… “ 

And panic turns to agony as T-Bug screams, a shrill cry of pain then she’s gone. Connectuon cut and V freezes in place. 

Bug is gone, just gone… 

Maybe, Konpeki just cut their comms? But the scream rings through V’s mind. She’s heard of how runner’s can die, daemons and quick hacks. Having their entire brain fried, every nerve and neuron set on fire, burned from the inside out... And all that's left to find is a simmering corpse stewing in their own filth. Bug was never meant for that, meant to retire, meant to find peace after years of netrunning. But now… 

“Bug.!? Bug!? Can you fuckin’ hear me, Bug please, are you there!?” V calls out, words slurring together. She just needs to hear Bug one more time, and know everything is okay. 

And nothing. 

“¡Pinche Dios Santo bendito! We lost her, V!” 

“They...scorched her...didn’t they…?” 

“We… we gotta go, V,” Jackie says, voice cracking as he smacks at V’s shoulder. 

Bug’s final hack going through, the window unlocked. V steps out through the window onto the ledge, rain pelting her skin as she rushes around the corner. Bug said there’s a ladder they can use, last thing Bug ever said… There’s no time for mourning, no time to cry, they need to get through this. The ledge narrows around the corner, ride lights outside the hotel window guiding the way, secured against the steel of the hotel. V sees the yellow safety ladder. The merc presses her back to the building, gently side stepping across the narrow ledge, if they just reach the ladder. One wrong step and they’ll plummet. 

“You can do it, Jackie… just don't look down,” jackie tries to talk himself up, following V, “ Yep, that's fuckin' high…!”

There’s a whir of engines, an aircraft vehicle buzzing around the outside of the hotel.

“Shit! That Trauma?” Jackie asks and that’s exactly what they need right now, doctors shooting them. 

“If they’re here for Saburo, they’re a little late.” 

“Just hope they didn't see us! ¡Chingada madre!”

The aircraft carrier flies in close, flashing blinding white light onto the mercs. It sees them, definitely sees them. 

“Suspects in violation of security protocols.” The mechanical voice croaks out. 

“Time to bail!’ Jackie screams and the aircraft starts to fire, drone automated shooting at them. 

The glass around them bursts and V jumps, grabbing Jackie’s hand in her left, she swings her right blade out towards the ladder. It hooks in the bottom rung, creaking in distress as it stops their fall. And there the mercs hang, suspended by a single Mantis Blade and a ladder rung; rain pouring down upon them and a drone still searching for them through the debris. The strain pulls at V’s arm, pain shooting throughout, shoulders ache and left arm pulled tight trying to hold Jackie and the case he holds in his other hand. 

If she could pull them up with the blade, maybe they can get to safety. But her muscles already strain, wrought tight with the strength it takes to hold them up. The blade pulling at the inner tissue it’s attached too, never meant to support more weight than the person it’s attached to. Rain and tears sting her eyes as she forces herself to pull with the blade, use it to lift them up. 

“V! I can’t hold on!’ Jackie yells out, rain slick hand starting to slip from her own. She digs her nails into his skin, holding him tighter. 

“Just a bit more, I can do this!” 

Her throat is raw and she doesn’t know how much she believes her own words. Nerves scream in pain as her cyberware pulls at what’s left of her flesh. Muscles cry as forced beyond their capability. She curses beneath her breath, pulling them just a little further up. Immeasurable pain and brute force of will only amounting to the tiniest bit of progress, not even an inch closer to safety. Her blade is pulling further out from her skin, raising up from her arm in a way she knows it shouldn’t. 

Every nerve in her arms on fire; blade tugging at flesh and the other nearly pulled from socket under Jackie’s weight. Barely an inch closer to the safety, Jackie slipping from her grip quicker than she can pull, blade lifting from her arm quicker than she can move them. Her teeth sinks into the inside of her cheek, hard enough to bleed as she pushes herself further. Closer, closer, she urges herself. 

A bright white light shines across them, illuminating them in the gray night, adding another ache to her eyes. Drone marked Arasaka buzzing around, refinding them within the debris of the destroyed hotel wall. The robotic voice speaking again. 

“Violators found.” 

And her blade breaks, V’s eye blown wide as they begin to plummet, shock blurs her pain and deafens the world.  Slowing it for a moment, only able to stare as metal snaps, tissue tears, and her arm is ripped open. Cyberware tearing out tissue and nerves, viscera left behind. 

Then she hits glass, shattering it as gravity slams her through and shock becomes hurt. She hits metal, body bouncing from impact, crying as the air is knocked from her lungs. Her head bashing against something. V clutches her arm, the pain it hitting her as everything else does, blood sticking to her fingers. Each breath hurts, a labored wheeze as bruised lungs strain to work. 

V blinks, sitting up slightly, regaining her sense of self now that her fall is broken. Across from her is Jackie and the cryo-case. She looks at her arm, A solid rip from wrist to near elbow, nearly an open hole, metal and moving inner parts of the cyberware mixed with gore. It doesn’t bleed as much as she'd expect, the internal mechanics helping block major bleed out. It hurts, metal now working against raw nerves. But, she’ll live… if this is the worst that happens, she’ll live.

The cryo-case is dented, part of it sparking and part of it splatted with blood. But her eye is drawn to Jackie. A tear in his gut, shrapnel and glass caught him well, bleeding more than her. The white of the button up around his stomach turned scarlet. 

“The Relic! ¡Madres! Agh… Oh, this ain't good. Agh…” Jackie curses, each breath pained. 

“Jackie, you’re hurt!” 

“Worry about me later,” he growls, “check the relic… "Container depressurized. Biochip integrity at ninety-four percent." And fuckin' droppin'! Carajo! Parker! Call her!”

“And tell her what!? We fucked up!?” 

“Just do it!”

Evelyn answers after a short ring, her avatar coming across V’s contacts. 

“V?! Konpeki's all over the feeds! What the fuck's going on there?”

“Got a problem! Cryo-case is damaged. Biochip's integrity at… Jackie?”

“Eighty-six percent!”

“Eighty-six percent and droppin'!”

“Shit…! OK, listen to me. There's only one thing you can do. One of you's gotta slot the Relic into your neural port!”

“That sounds really dangerous!” 

God only knows how this biochip could fuck them up, the relic itself is like putting another personality in your head, seeing ghosts. If this one is even half as fucked up as that, they could be putting themselves in serious danger. 

“The longer you wait, the greater the risk we lose it!” 

“Well, someone’s got to do it,” Jackie says, voice a rasp, face steadily draining color as he opens the case, “In the name of the Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit - Amen.”

Jackie crosses his body with the pray and pushes the chip into his neural port and V watches his eyes light up for a moment. And he’s quiet for another, a second too long.

“You okay?” 

“Dunno… I guess… Don't feel any different.”

“Once you're back, we'll take out the Relic and run a full brain scan and sweep. But you two need to get the fuck out of there first!”

“We’re working on it!” 

Jackie and V get back on their feet. He holds his hand to his stomach, trying to press his guts together and she keeps her arm held close to her chest, not putting pressure on it. Jackie calls Delamain. 

“Del, we'll be there in a couple. Be ready, got it?”

“Certainly, Mr. Welles.”

“Better be fuckin' certain.”

“We gotta somehow… reach the lobby. Only chance to hit the garage. And we'd best be quick,” Jackie jabs himself with an air hypo, “ Oh-ho, that's the shit… Great… Now let's get outta here.”

“Wait, take your jacket off, use it to keep pressure on your gut, okay? Should help with the bleeding.” 

It’s minimal first aid knowledge, she knows. Hold something to a wound to keep it from bleeding out as quickly. But it’s all she can offer, helping Jackie get the jacket off with one hand, so he can press it to his stomach wound. She can move her right hand somewhat, but it hurts and she swears she can see the tendons moving around the metal in the gaping wound her forearm has become. She catches herself wondering if she’ll be able to sign with her right hand again. But, there’s no time for those fears. 

She walks down the red lit metal grate, heels nearly catching in it as she turns to a doorway. V leads the way, less injured than Jackie, she pushes the door open. A door lobby with glass banisters and plants, the only light the bright red ones. 

“Great… Now let's get outta here,” Jackie says, each word a stressful choking sound to get out. 

An AI voice speaks repeatedly over the speakers that Konpeki plaza is in code red, as the mercs work to move quickly and quietly. Catching the murmuring of two guards as they reach a marble staircase, speaking of sweeping the floors and checking the lobby. They creep around the corner and past a desk, seeing the back of the men’s through the glass banister. The only sound the pounding of V’s heart and Jackie’s labored breathing. They watch as the two men separate, enough space for each to grab one. 

They move down the last stretch of the stairs, guards talking about evacuating Yorinobu. She lets Jackie take the one closest to them as she moves further to the one at the doorway. V swings her left blade, now her only one, through the man’s gut. Her right arm shoots pain through each nerve, metal inside churching to dispense a blade that no longer exists. She holds back a sound, Jackie’s already choked out the other guard, checking for pockets. Each one armed with a silenced gun. She steals ammo off of them.

They come to another door, each catching their breath. Sweat clinging to V’s brow as they brace themselves for what’s to come next. 

“Careful… security likely to be swarmin' outside,” Jackie warns and V nods, words clumping together in her throat as she opens the door. 

They stay crouched, spotting more guards as they go. The pair hide behind a planter, V taking a scan of the area, spotting a security camera. Remembering Bug’s lessons, she’s quickly able to shut them off. She’s the one to step back out, leading the way for the first time in months of working together. V needs to get Jackie through this, he’s holding on now, but.. 

She grabs a guard from behind and snaps their neck, arm twinging in agony at the movement she throws their body aside, clearing a long stretch of hallway for Jackie to follow her down. All light bright red and screens that once showed commercials now flash the words, Code Red. She leaves Jackie to stay hidden behind a counter when she sees another by the doorway, jumping at his back and dropping him just like his coworker.  

“Ain't doin' too bad… Just a little further…” Jackie whispers as she drops another guy, her arm screaming at her to stop. But she’ll survive without an arm, if worse comes to worse, she can’t let Jackie get hurt any worse. 

They creep through a door, past a desk, hearing a guard yelling out as they sneak and weave through the room. She watches over the top of a planter as the guard walks past them, none the wiser as V creeps around, getting behind him, and taking him down. She can’t risk leaving any behind, leaving one alive and them finding the mercs later. The hotel is huge, a labyrinth of Arasaka guards. 

“Engaging hostiles!” A voice booms out, the mercs spotted by a heavily armed Arasaka guard who nearly trips over V.

Fuck, fuck, so much for stealth. Jackie shoots over a counter, trying to stay somewhat protected from the gunfire, while V takes lead, firing Yorinobu’s gun at the men, only dropping behind cover to reload, she blasts. Fuck it, stealth not an option, she’ll turn the whole damn hotel into a blood bath. 

The guards drop and V knows she’s been shot, but she’s standing so she moves onward. Through a doorway, three more men open fire as the mercs turn the corner. V blasts a bullet through ones head, Jackie blows the second full of holes. 

“One more fucker dead!” 

The third is further back behind a glass door and V charges forward, glass open as she fires at the man. Bullets ripping through his chest in a spray of blood before he collapses, red smeared across the marble. If she gets a chance to sleep tonight, she’ll be seeing red in her dreams. The vivid neon lights of the emergency lit hotel, the burgundy uniforms, and the steady spray of it from every shot fired. 

Jackie and V go running around a corner, through another glass doorway and slide into side of a marble planter. Taking a moment to breathe, she can hear guards talking. Orders from higher up, panicked yells from the less experienced. She can spot two around the corner, but can’t get a clear shot. She runs to the open doorway, catching one off guard as she slams into his view and rips a blade through his gut. 

A full armored worker fires off when he sees it, partially hidden by a linen rack. Another runs in, half hiding behind a planter, firing off around the corner. She presses against a wall between it and a partial doorway, reloading before she looks back through. The less armored man moves around a pillar, peeking from behind cover, and she shoots his head as soon as she sees it, watching him hit the marble. 

She struggles to get a clear shot of the third, still hidden behind the rack and so she runs forward, past the rack and coming to a sliding stop behind him. The guard fumbles to swing around when he realizes where she’s landed. Back turned to Jackie now, her friend fires a shot clean through the guard’s head. 

The room is cleared for a moment and the elevator is nearby, she runs past a desk, when she sees the button screen. A glowing red off symbol. 

“Fuck!” 

“Chingo tu madre! It's shut down! What about the other one?” Jackie yells between rattling breaths, she wanted this to be stealthy, didn’t want to put him anymore danger. 

She runs, heels clicking against blood streaked marble, nearly tripping over a corpse. Quickly trying to stop herself when another guard springs up behind a desk. Two more swarming the room, one in the heavy almost samurai-like Arasaka armor. 

“Orale! Got to plough through them!” 

She focuses on the Saka samurai, pulling the trigger again and again,  Thankful to have emptied the ammo off every body she’s dropped so far. A bullet catches his throat, a gush of blood as he paints the floor,  and she shifts to the other men. A headshot on one, the other already down thanks to Jackie. 

V searches their corpses, pocketing ammo and bounce backs, when she finds an access token on the samurai. V thanks any god that may be listening, if they exist and makes a beeline for the elevator at the end of the room. 

“Got access,” she breathes out, calling the elevator. 

Its doors open and she steps in, the side railing lit that bright red. She waits as Jackie rushes in, he’s still in somewhat decent shape it seems. Not the ideal heist, she thinks as she hits the button, but maybe they can get out of this. Rush Jackie to a ripper, check on T-Bug, collect their eddies, and tonight will be a story to tell later. Remember the Konpeki Heist, how everything that could go wrong did. 

“Hah-… agh! Heh, hng…” She can’t tell if he’s laughing or groaning in pain, maybe both. Blood is coating his hands, has he bled through the jacket? No, Jackie’s bulletproof, said it himself a billion times. He’ll be okay, he has to be. 

“Jackie…”

“Saburo Arasaka, Hundred and fifty years… and today… of all fuckin' days. That's like… some divine comedy shit… hehehehe… agh.”

And he’s laughing, of course he is, holding his guts together and he laughs, because why would Jackie Welles do anything else. She’s not sure if she’s going to cry or laugh along, if she’s charmed or infuriated by it; is he just still desperately searching for that silver lining or does he genuinely not give a fuck if he flatlines? That idea, the thought, makes her throat tighten. He can’t die, he won’t die, she won’t let him. 

“Save your strength, please, we’re not out of the woods yet.” 

“What do you think I’m doing!?” She doesn’t miss the frustration, because if he wasn’t so hurt, he’d been the one leading that battle, charging in to take brunt of it all, “Buuut… chill, V. We'll get out alive.” 

“I know we will,” she says and wants so desperately to believe.

The elevator reaches the lobby, doors open to more guards, more gunfire. She shoots at one that looks out behind a wall, three more in the main room of the lobby. Jackie slides behind a desk, using it for cover between shots. V takes lead, shooting from around a doorway. Its chaos and mayhem, V blasting the four men. One dropping behind a chair, catching one through the green ferns growing from a planter.  Three more Arasaka corpses, splattering blood across marble and the roots of those towering trees. Bullet after bullet, shot after shot, until her ears are ringing and three remain; the mercs and one last guard. 

He throws a grenade across the room at them, V shooting it in the air before it can hit them, smoke and fire smoldering across the ceiling. She uses the chance to close the gap and blows his brains out at close range.  

Room cleared they rush through the rest of the lobby, finally reaching the elevator that will take them to the garage. V slams the button, calling the elevator. The door opens and she runs inside, expecting Jackie to run in after her. His steps are slowing and he leans against the wall for a moment instead, having to catch a second wind. He’s getting worse, but they’re in the homestretch, they can do this. They can do this, he stumbles through, leaning against the elevator wall. 

“Argh… I'm leakin' a little…” His voice a rasp. 

The elevator stops at the garage, so close to safety. Doors opening she can already hear the guards and the mercs step out, eye on them, its a swarm of Arasaka. Gunfire rings out alongside the screech of brakes. The Delamain taxis coming to a stop in the center of the garage, it’s doors flinging open. 

“I advise that you waste no time in entering the vehicle,” Delamain chirps at them, like this is a normal night. 

But she needs no prodding. V grabs Jackie’s hand and runs for the taxi, dragging him through the garage to the open doors. Rather than making him walk around, she shoves Jackie through her side on the right, letting him slide into the left seat before she jumps in; he needs the extra second of protection more than her.  The doors shut, bulletproof shields raising as they the taxi is blasted by the guards. They’re safe? Right?

“Welcome back. With Delamain, you leave your problems at the door….”

“DRIVE NOW!” 

And Delamain does just that, engines firing up as he rams through the garage door like it’s nothing. She leans forward on the two front seats. As the taxi takes a sharp turn, they’re almost there, almost safe. Jackie wasn’t fucking around about the combat mode. 

“Not bad at all.” 

“Client feedback noted.”

“How’s the ride looking?” 

“Tiptop. Though alas, we are being pursued.”

And then she sees him, Adam Smasher, the borged monster of a former man rushes them. No hesitation, no fear, as he slams his entire body into the car. Shattering glass, gnashing metal, and nearly sending the car to the side; slamming V and Jackie to the right. 

“Sweet fuckin’ jesus!” 

Jackie curses as V screams, the hell kind of freak is this guy? The car goes back down on its wheels. Adam Smasher on a metal knee, slowing standing up on front of the car. 

“Combat mode activated. Please remain calm.”

“Calm!!!????” She yells out as Delamain begins to drive backwards. 

 “Road block ahead. I kindly request that you brace for impact.”

“¡Oy, mis huevos! Shiiiit!”

The cab takes a turn, rather than driving through Adam Smasher, it goes through another roadway. A row of cars blocking the way and Delamain slams through through without hesitation, taking them through the Night City roads away from the hotel. Jackie is hunched over, bloody hands still pressing the jacket to his gut, the white shirt soaked through with it. 

“A hostile enemy aircraft has a lock on us.”

V doesn’t need a word more from the AI taxi, climbing halfway out of the window, she spots the drones flying after them. Three of them. Needing steadier aim, she flips off her hearing aids with a thought, steeling herself as the car weaves through the road and she fires at them. This is Arasaka’s last ditch effor to keep a lock on them, if she can get rid of them, they’re in the clear. 

Three shots; first drone goes down sparking as it hits the city streets. Two more kills the second, the metal remains slamming into a streetlamp. And the third goes down with a final shot, smoldering onto the roof of a  BD store. She turns her hearing aids back on as she slides into her seat again; they’re gone. 

“Hostile aircraft eliminated.”

“Nice work there… Del…”

She shifts to look at Jackie, he has one hand on his stomach, the other braced against the door. V grabs his shoulder with one hand and his leg with the other, practically shaking him. 

“We did it, Jackie! We made it!” 

“Heh...guess we did…” It’s not the triumphant excited Jackie, she’d expect to hear. His voice still rough, a rattle barely leaving his lungs. Her eyes sting, no, no. 

“My medical diagnostics indicate that Mr. Welles’ condition is critical.”

“Critical, what- take us to a fucking ripperdoc, now! Vik’s behind Misty’s shop!” 

She reaches to put pressure against the jacket over his wound, hand over his, but the fabric is bled all the way through. Blood sticking to her skin, warmer than Jackie’s skin and he’s looking pale, paler every second. He leans back against the chair, strength starting to leave his body. 

“Apologies, but that will not be possible. Our itinerary has been pre-arranged and paid for in advance. I am not at liberty to alter it.”

“Fuck your itinerary and fuck your liberty, just get us to goddamn doctor!” 

“It's OK, V… I'll hold out…” 

When did his nose start to bleed, when he did he start hacking up blood, red streaking down his nostrils and over his chin. She sucks in a shaky breath, eyes starting to water. No, not Jackie, anyone but him… please.  She doesn’t know who she’s begging; maybe god, maybe fate, maybe just anything in this world that will listen. 

“Yeah, yeah,” she chokes out, nodding, “you-you just got to hold on, okay? And, and, we’ll hit the major leagues. Only the best jobs, swimming in eddies, just like you always wanted.” 

She brings her forehead to his, feeling the cold sweat of his skin, hoping her warmth, touch, her words; anything will keep him alert. The tears flow freely now, wet and hot on her cheeks. 

“Mija...  you’re gonna be rich, I can feel it…” 

“No, we’re gonna be rich, Jackie! You and me, that’s how it’s always been, I-I can’t do it without you, y-you got to stay with me okay! We’ll get back, you can see Misty and your mom, everyone and let them know you made it.” 

“Misty… She knew… She always knew…” he breathes out, eyes glassy with a weak smile, “told me not to take this job, why she always got to be right?” 

“J-just a little longer, please, Jackie...please,” she begs him, like he can stop it. Like he can put his inside back together, stop the color from draining out of his face, and can just stay with her. 

“The biochip…” he holds her shoulder, grasp weak, and takes the chip from his head with the other, “Hold on to it. For me…”

And he slides it into her neuroport, her vision glitching for a moment. She surges forward, wrapping her arms as tightly as she can, burying his head into his chest, crying into him as she clings tightly; wishing she had the strength to just hold him together. 

“Please, please, Jackie, I can’t lose you, just a little longer, please,” she sobs into his ashen skin and blood soaked shirt, begging with every slowed beat of his heart. 

For a moment his hands graze her back and she waits for a bear hug, for him to squeeze the breath from her lungs and lift her from her seat like he’s done so many times. For him to be Jackie; her best friend, her partner in crimes, her brother, her everything. But his touch is faint, the space between each beat growing further and further. Until his hands fall limp, body slack in her arms, and she knows the next heartbeat will never come. 

And she sobs, she holds him and cries out her pain, if only for a moment. No more ‘chicas’, ‘jainas’, or the odd ‘mija’. No more smiles that outshine the sun. No more nagging her to look on the bright side. No more bear hugs or hands the size of her head ruffling through her hair. No more Jackie…. And it’s not fair and it’s not right. 

“Mr. Welles has passed. Where shall I take his remains?” A robotic voice asks and she realizes the car is no longer moving. 

She forces herself to let him go, one of the hardest things she’ll ever have to do. Pulling away, she sees him, truly lifeless. Bright green eyes now dull with no light behind them, limp hands falling away from her. 

“W-what?” She stumbles over the word, brain fogged over with grief. 

“The Excelsior package provides for the disposal of passenger remains free of charge. I merely require a destination.”

“I…he-he’d want to be with his family,” she stumbles across her words. 

“Mr. Welles' closest blood relative is Guadalupe Alejandra Welles, proprietress of the El Coyote Cojo bar. I will make sure to deliver him safely. Mr. DeShawn awaits you in room number two-oh-four. ” 

That’s right… Dex… The chip. The world didn’t stop spinning, only her’s. There’s still a job. And the idea of still going, that there’s a tomorrow beyond today, seems unfathomable. How the hell could she ever move on…  

Because Jackie would kill her if she didn’t and she knows that. He’d haunt her for a thousand years and kick her ass every day of it. She looks at the remains, her friend gone, now limp and bleeding across white leather. And knows if he could speak, he’d tell her to get her ass to that hotel room and finish this job, that he and Bug didn’t die just for V to bury herself alongside them. She squeezes his shoulder, presses her forehead to Jackie’s one last time, feeling the cold of his skin. 

“See ya in the major leagues, Jack…”

V opens the car door and steps out into the backlot behind the motel. Rain pours down across her bloodied skin, soaking her to the bones, a numb chill clinging to her. Painted across brick is the Night City emblem marks the wall, red graffiti altering its slogan.. The city of broken dreams… 

She moves, on autopilot as she makes her way up the stairs and to the back door of the motel, sheltered from the rain once she’s in a trash filled back room. The motel is bathed in the neon red lights, only offset by the white of sign bearing its name, it’s always red. She stumbles up the staircase and then  another, past a tv chattering on about Saburo Arasaka. 

The merc walks down the gloomy hallway, dark except for warm yellow floor lights, Graffiti covered walls, rain washing down the windows at the end of it. And she reaches room 204, her arm leaden as she knocks. 

No response. 

“Its V,” she yells out, knocking harder. 

The door opens but before she can take another step, Dex’s body guard takes a step out. Large hand blocking her from coming further. He checks the hallway, making sure she wasn’t followed. After a moment, he finally pulls away. 

“He waiting.” 

The man takes a step back, allowing V into the room. She pushes through a bead curtain and sees Dex, leaning over a TV screen, another cigar between his golden fingers. She clears her throat, hearing the door close behind her. 

“WNS… N54… Even the pirate networks… You blowin' up everywhere! And the Jackster? He out in the car?” 

“He’s...dead,” her voice breaks, words like thorns in her throat. Having to say it, having to hear it from her own lips… 

“Condolences friend,” he tells her, shifting to look at her rather than the tv, “and the relic?” 

“Here,” she says, voice a murmur as she taps her neural port. 

“Hmm, I was afraid of that…” 

“What?!” 

She got the fucking relic, everyone is fucking dead, but she got the relic! Everyone died for this fucking chip and now he’s disappointed that she has it!?

“Saburo Arasaka?” Dex paces, smoking his cigar, “Dead…?! You got any notion of the shit you pulled me into?! You offed the fuckin' emperor! His majesty! Anyone with so much as a pinky toe dipped in this mess is as good as dead!’

“I didn’t kill Saburo! I- I-” she stalls, wanting to say she didn’t do anything, but can she say that? Can she act like she didn’t fuck up any of this? Like she has no role in Jackie and Bug’s deaths… 

"No shit?l Tell that to the ‘Saka ninjas they send after you!”

“We...we got to leave the city.” 

Badlands isn’t the safest for her, but it will be safer with money, she could settle in another city, maybe. She can outrun her family more than Arasaka. 

“You don’t say.” 

“Call Parker, we close the deal, collect our eddies, and go off the radar.” 

“A’ight, settle down,” he sits down on the leather couch, “Gotta be tactical about this. Parker, eddies, then we leave the city limits behind. But first… Your face… got blood all over it. Bathroom's there. Go get yourself cleaned up.”

He points her to the bathroom of the motel and she nods, in no place to argue, she just wants to be on the other side of this mess. To be able to tell herself at least she made it to the major leagues, at least Jackie would be proud of her, even if he isn’t here to see it. 

V stumbles into the bathroom, legs wobbling. Everything should hurt, her arm ripped open. Bruises mottling every inch of flesh. But she’s… numb. She works on autopilot, only somewhat aware of the door shutting behind her as she grips the sink, streaking blood across the silver.

Her blood and Jackie’s. 

Bile rushes up her throat, stinging as she pukes into the sink, choking and gagging it out. The tears threaten to come again, eyes stinging as he nails dig into the sink. He’s gone, he’s really fucking gone. Her best friend, her brother in everything but blood and name, her rock, and world. The man who took her in, who gave her a goal, a life… 

And how’d she repay him? 

Watch him die in the back of a Delamain. All her promises to keep him safe, to repay back all the kindness he gave to her. And she couldn’t save him, couldn’t protect him, couldn’t do shit but hold him. Fuckin’ only time she really hugged him with all she had and she doesn’t even know if he could really feel it, if his body was too numb. 

If she would have refused the job. 

If she had gotten them up the ladder. 

If she had been stronger. 

If she had been stealthier.

If she had gotten them through the lobby quicker. 

If she could have convinced Delamain to get him to a doc.

If she knew better first aid. 

If….if… if… 

Thoughts spin and whirl through her mind, a thousand reasons why it’s her fault. Why she could have saved him, why she could have done more, why she failed him… 

Misty will never take Jackie’s last name and it’s V’s  fault. They’ll never have kids, they’ll never buy a home together, he’ll never get to take her to that stupid hotel bar with the annoying waiter. 

Senora Welles will be forced to bury her son and it’s V’s fault. She’ll never hold her son again. Never see him smile again. Never see him live out his dream. Never cook his favorite foods for him and nag him not to talk with his mouth full. 

Jackie had a future, a family, people who loved him. He was going to marry Misty one day, have kids. Get enough eddies to provide for them and his mom. And now there’s a hole in all of their lives. The world as a whole now worse off without him, her own world destroyed. It should have been her, she knows that, the world would be better off losing her than losing him. 

Yet here she is and she’s just supposed to keep moving, supposed to keep breathing, supposed to live a life post Jackie. 

When she looks up, she sees her own reflection staring back at her. Red rimmed eyes, swollen  from crying and blood splattered across her skin, stuck in the ends of her hair. And she doesn’t know where it’s from, if it’s her own, if it’s Jackie’s, or if it’s from the people she killed tonight. T-Bug and Jackie gone, yet she’s here. 

A brilliant talented netrunner is gone. But she’s still here. 

The kindest man to walk in Night City is gone. But she’s still here. 

She glares at herself, because she has no right to be here and the world has no right to be this cruel. Her fingers clenches, pulling at her damaged nerve endings and she slams her fist into the mirror. Glass shatters and crackles, shards splintering into her knuckles. 

V washes the blood from her hands and face, cleaner but still a zombie as she turns to the door. Jackie wanted this for her, one of the only people who ever wanted anything good for her. If only for him, she owes it to him to finish this job. She stumbles to the bathroom door and opens it, stepping out.

Knuckles collide with her head, wracking more pain through an already injured merc, she’s sent sprawling to the ground. She curses and twists around on the floor, not sure she has the energy to stand back up, vision blurring as Dex’s bodyguard stomps on her. Heavy foot colliding with her head. She curses and sputters choking on blood.  She twists onto her back, blinking through the pain as Dex’s bodyguard hands him a pistol. The fixer walks closer, standing over her.

“Can't risk it, V,” he says casually, leveling his gun with her head,” ‘Member our first convo?”

“I’ll fucking kill you!” She screams, spitting blood as she stares down the barrel. 

“Seems I've chosen the quiet life, after all. No blaze o' glory for me.” 

The shot rings out, loud and clear, the world going dark as a bullet rips through the young merc’s head. Blood splatters across the dirty carpet, her body going limp, a final breath gurgling forth as she chokes on her own blood, iron taste clinging in the back of her throat. 

Then she’s gone. 

[ia-bi-tia]

Ok so today was a disaster day for art HOWEVER it seemed to have been a good days for writing :^3

Here's a thing I wrote on my phone - a word vomit if you will

1, 691 words

I feel like you don't really need much backstory for this other than it's set like 6 months after their mother physically assaulted them and they stayed in the home of a physician. This drabble is about how they met Vedra. It's set in Nevinon.

(The whole backstory is coming just be patient and pretend like all this makes sense, thanks!)

They had been so silent for almost half a year - only a few silent words would leave their throat when they were spoken to by the physician or his wife.

"How are you feeling today?"

"Okay."

"Have you eaten anything?"

"Yes."

"Oh? What have you eaten?"

"Bread."

"....The bread is still intact, darling."

They didn't even have the strength to argue. They were so weak. They could barely leave the bed on most days. 

Their back was usually turned to their current guardians, always in a state of sobbing and trembling or complete and all consuming nothingness. They'd just stare at the white wall in front of them until their vision went spotted, and then they'd just keep going. The period was rough and any sense of joy seemed too far out of reach. 

The closest they felt to joy was the rare chances they got to visit the nearby city. 

It would usually be when the physician had work there and nobody could look over the child so they'd get the chance to explore on their own.

And explore they did.

Their lanky frame could be seen slithering around the streets, always covered and silent, looking up at all the buildings. The architecture was different from the farm they grew up in - it felt alive. 

They'd stroll down the streets and watch the people of it and listen. What lives these people led. 

With hearing only bits and pieces they could try to string together stories.

It kept their mind busy on those days.

These outings would spark the tiniest fire in them.

But it seemed so out of reach. So intangible to lead a life like that.

To be old and share gossip with an old friend.

No.

That wasn't for them.

They didn't know where they belonged, their imagination envisioning them maybe an hour in advance at most.

They wouldn't live to be sixteen. 

How could they? Life seemed to be out to get them. 

Would they stay in the house they were at forever? That would be so depressing, wouldn't it?

On one such day they found themself on the streets again. They heard the sound of an accordion coming from the square. They tried to push through the crowd to see the musician but were found lacking in strength as well as attitude to do so. 

They frowned and looked around to find a pile of sturdy looking crates. They clutched their chest as they climbed, still not trusting the injury they got a few months back not to burst if they pushed themself too much.

With a huff, they plopped down onto the crate, now with a better view of the show.

But it wasn't much of a show.

A boy maybe a few years older than them played the instrument, his legs crossed as he lazily played. Beside him was a badly put together bench with a big pot of hot stew on it. A girl about his age was stirring the pot, offering the food to anyone who passed. She held a polite smile as she talked to the would-be customers(?), but the second their backs would turn, her face would show the full extent of her frustration. She'd mumble something to the boy beside her to which he would only shrug.

The pair intrigued Ia and they couldn't keep their eyes away from them. They felt so alien to them yet the two also reminded them of their father so much that it made their chest tighten.

"Oi, you little rat, get off there!"

The sound of a merchant, presumably the owner of the crates, boomed from behind them. This frightened them and they lost their balance and they could feel themself slip from their seat, no matter the flailing of their limbs.

They fell ass-first onto the floor, a loud thud heard from the rubble. They felt their spine reset from the impact and tears started streaming from their shocked face. They tried to get up but a sharp, throbbing pain in their back stopped them in their tracks. All they could do was close their eyes and cry from the pain and from the humiliation of the crowd gathering around them. 

They didn't see the people who helped them up, but they knew their knees trembled as they tried to stand. They cried miserably, not sure what to do next. 

"Iotta!"

They heard the physician call out as he seemingly stumbled across the scene. He tusked as he took hold of them.

"What happened?! Are you okay?"

Ia sobbed and shook their head no. 

"Ay yai yai, we best get you fixed up."

The physician lifted them up bridal style to at least get them away from all the people.

Ia managed to catch one look of the two that helped them up - the musicians.

….

It had been a few days of them recovering. It wasn't too serious, their back was just a little beaten up.

They spent the period thinking about the musicians and what energy they possessed. 

The boy was the prettiest they'd ever seen - tall and lean with angular features. The way he was hunched over that stool was somehow both effortless and elegant.

The girl was an intrigue of her own. The roots of her dark hair were dark hair were showing under the copper red she dyed it in and her face was so expressive. She seemed discouraged by whatever she was doing, yet she stood tall and determined despite her short frame.

It had been a while since they felt the need to make friends.

Making friends. 

The idea seemed so far removed from what they had been experiencing for the last few months. As a child they loved walking up to the other children from the village. But now they weren't sure if they could do it.

But the human need was there and they were determined to fulfill it .

They rummaged the little belongings they had to find their father's tambourine. They hadn't touched it in almost four years. 

They dragged their fingers over the smooth, darkened skin of the drumhead. They seemed to have grown into it; the weight and size of the instrument weren't as awkward in their hands anymore. 

They struck the tambourine again their thigh, at first flinching at the loud sound but it soon turned into a wide, happy grin. 

Oh, how they've missed it.

Noise.

Perhaps it was the silence driving them crazy all this time. 

They messed around for a while, just enjoying the pure joy of making noise.

They left a note on the door as they snuck out. 

'I'll be back. Do not worry.'

They awkwardly clutched the instrument under their cloak as they threaded the well known path into the city.

Their heart raced. This was stupid. How would they even find them? What would they even say to them? What if they didn't like them? What if they were mean?

Though their mind was uncertain, their legs walked like no tomorrow.

It was late afternoon by the time they saw the pair at the beach a little far off from the docks. They had company. Lively company.

There was about six of them, all making music together around a campfire. 

They were all as varied and colourful as the instruments they played. The music was intense and rowdy and sometimes they would sing and other times they would scream. But it sounded so good.

Ia stood quite a ways back from them as they tried to catch their breath, watching them from behind the long curly mess that was their hair.

They battled against themself for an agonizing amount of time before taking a few steps closer. Then a few more. Then another few until the girl from earlier noticed them.

She squinted in their direction then smiled widely.

"Hey! How's your bum doing, kid?"

Ia freezed in their tracks, eyes wide like a deer's. Their mouth hung open but no words seemed to come out. Oh no. This was a mistake.

The girl stood up and walked over to them, head cocked to the side. 

"You feeling okay? Sorry if that was a bit-"

Her words were interrupted by them shaking their head.

"Okay then. Would you like to sit with us?"

A nod.

"Come."

The girl led them to a stool so they could sit down and she plopped into the sand beside them.

"Introductions, band!"

The girl called out and the whole group puffed up their chests and assumed soldier-like expressions.

"Anvil."

"Esfir."

"Apolonia."

"Ras."

"Mete."

"Vedra."

Ia watched them all, amazed at just the little glimpse of their dynamics. They were all so much different from the people they'd usually see as well as so different from each other.

They were surprised when Vedra looked up at them with an encouraging smile.

"What do you like to be called?"

The simple act of not asking for their name, but for what *they* wanted to be called gave them a new type of feeling. A new type of euphoria.

They stuttered, their voice so unused and unnatural.

"I-Ianais. O-or maybe only Ia."

Vedra clapped her hands together, her smile as bright as ever. They could notice one golden tooth in her otherwise impressive teeth.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ia. Say, what brings you to our merry little banď?"

Ia didn't really have an answer so they just shyly showed them all their tambourine with an honest and hopeful smile.

The group burst into cheers and laughter at the weird new kid in their company.

"One of us, it seems like."

The pretty boy, Mete, commented with a little nudge to their arm.

*One of them.*

Maybe their imagination could stretch their lifespan a little further. They'd love to see what it would be like to be seventeen. Maybe even eighteen.

They had never felt so relaxed and accepted, even with just so little.

And it gave their life purpose to know feeling like this was possible.

Little did they know they just met the rest of their life.

:^)

[bluejohsai]

whiskers — kuroo tetsurou (au).

it’s been a while and i managed to push through with posting a short scenario for this blog. i know i haven’t been active in this blog at all and it will stay that way if there are no requests flying here. i am currently accepting requests for haikyuu and attack on titan (bc i indulged in it for quite a while now). with that aside, happy reading !!

summary : kuroo finds himself in a strange predicament and inevitably bumps into his crush. inspired by ‘a whisker away’.

Kuroo Tetsurou had enough of his life.

Everything was just in shambles the moment his mother screamed at his father, demanding a divorce. And with divorce comes the argument of which parent will take the responsibility of caring for the child. In the end, Kuroo's mother won, making him pack his bags and leave his father behind to live in his mother's house in Tokyo, along with the man that his mother chose to remarry. Living under his mother's care was perfectly fine; she wasn't in the house often because of her work and his mother's new husband tends to be fussing over him any chance he gets, but Kuroo chose to brush all of them with a practiced smile.

In the summer of Kuroo's second year in high school, the dark-haired boy received a message from his father. He was lounging in his makeshift study area in the bottom part of his bunk bed, reading a book that Kenma really enjoyed (it was filled with games though, probably the reason why the first-year liked it so much), when his phone vibrated on top of the coffee table he pushed at the front of his study area. Not having any enthusiasm at the prospect of talking to people, Kuroo sluggishly sat up and opened his phone, displaying his lock screen of the sky and the message from his father. With bored eyes from behind his long fringe, Kuroo tried reading the message without any attachment since it was only once upon a time that he was close with his father.

Father:

Hey, Tetsurou, I'm here right now in Tokyo. The summer festival is still ongoing so why don't we attend the highlights, I have something to talk to you about.

Narrowing his eyes at the glare of his gadget, Kuroo stared pensively at the screen of his phone. Festivals meant reliving those joyous moments he had with his father when he was young; catching goldfishes, buying masks and scaring his mother with the designs of their face accessories, and watching the highlights of the festival, which is the fireworks display. It also meant reliving that time when his father left him intentionally during a crowded summer festival. That event in his life spurred the divorce because as his mother told him, his father is one deadbeat and selfish kind of man. But his father wasn't like that. Kuroo remembered pleading to his mother to forgive the older man but it was all in vain. She still screamed in their dining room to nullify their marriage.

Tetsurou:

OK.

That was it. No residue of the playful nature he always had with his father, as it should be all those years.

Having a few minutes of silence and staring at the bottom of his bunk bed, Kuroo took a deep breath as he ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up even more. Slowly sitting up, the dark-haired boy crawled out of his cozy hideout and stretched his limbs, because lying down and rolling on the carpeted floor definitely made him stiff. Walking towards his closet while taking off his shirt, Kuroo reached out for the red sleeveless hoodie hanging from behind his volleyball club tracksuit, quickly fitting it on him and choosing to leave his basketball shorts on. With his phone and wallet in hand, the tall lad walked down the stairs and opened the door to the living room and dining area.

Peeking his head inside a small crack of the door, Kuroo lazily scanned the area. "Ah, Hikaru-san," he called out, catching the attention of a tall man with soft brown hair and glasses from behind the counter of their kitchen. He was apparently preparing for dinner, which looked like fried chicken. "I'm going out for a bit. Tell Mom that I could be going home late tonight."

The man named Hikaru gently smiled at Kuroo as he washed his hands. "I heard tonight's the summer festival's highlights," he noted, wiping his hand on one of the clean towels by the refrigerator. "Are you going with your friend, Kenma, is it? Or your classmates, Yaku and Kai."

Kuroo shook his head. "Dad invited me."

He swore he could hear a pin drop from the awkward silence ensuing inside the room. This silence is one that he greatly distastes, and this is coming from a child who succumbed to a bout of silence once he moved to Tokyo. There was no question of how Hikaru wanted to be acknowledged as Kuroo's new father and the competition on who deserves to be a better father to Kuroo is brewing between the two males that became a part of his mother's life. Kuroo could see that Hikaru was doing his best but the messy-haired boy never really viewed him as a family even after years of being married to his mom, his dismissive behavior when it comes to Hikaru is masked with cheery remarks and loud rounds of laughter. And that's what he chose to do right now.

The tall lad laughed once again, trying to ease any tension in the air. "I'm thinking of bringing home a box of takoyaki. Do you want anything, Hikaru-san?"

Hikaru composed himself and sheepishly looked down to continue with his current task. "You don't have to buy me anything, Tetsurou." The brown-haired man glanced at Kuroo with a fatherly air. "Are you joining us for dinner later?"

Kuroo paused for a few moments, pretending to think upon the offer before shaking his head an easygoing smile. "Nope," he lightheartedly answered Hikaru. "I'll be off now!"

When Kuroo's footsteps echoed through the empty household, followed by the sound of the front door closing, Hikaru deeply sighed as he planted both hands on the counter. His dejected frame was noticed by his pet cat, Hanako, who mewled in concern as she approached her owner. Realizing his eyes pooling with unshed tears, Hikaru quickly took his glasses from the bridge of his nose and wiped his eyes with his wrist, his forced laughter coming out huskily.

"I'm trying my best, Hanako, but why isn't it enough?"

                                                             *

Summer festivals in Tokyo always bring forth a chorus of laughter and the comfortable mellow lantern lights. There was a subtle beat of the taiko drums in the background, drowned out by the endless chatters of the people choosing to roam around during the highlights of the festivals. The streets of the enormous plaza in their area were arranged to have a line of stalls awaiting for customers, and one of them held a special place in Kuroo's childlike heart ー goldfish scooping. Here he was, crouched down in front of the small tub designated for the goldfishes, his hand poised right above him while his eyes never strayed from that fish who appeared to be brighter than anyone else in the shallow water. Right when he was about to catch the fish, his little net tilted and doubled over the water, scaring away the fishes from any human contact.

"Better luck next time, boy," the stall owner told him reassuringly but the messy-haired boy wasn't reassured at all.

Kuroo stood up brashly from his seated position, surprising the people around the little stall, and walked away with his hands inside the pockets of his sleeveless jacket. There was a hasty apology coming from behind him, along with hurried footsteps of the very person he doesn't want to interact with at the moment. Kuroo continued walking, mumbling apologies to the people he bumped on the way, until a firm grip wrapped around his arm, making him roll his eyes in annoyance.

"What?" he asked the person desperately trying to catch his attention, the expression on the younger boy was hiding the fact that he was hurting because of this meeting.

"Tetsurou," Kuroo Tatsunari, his father stood in front of him, face so distraught that he nearly broke his practiced façade. "You can live with me instead of your mother, that way everyone will be happy. Please, Tetsurou, I already asked my landlord to have my apartment renovated to have your room."

Kuroo was baffled for a moment and he couldn't help but scoff in disbelief at what his father said. After shaking his head, his golden eyes trailed from the face he was starting to see in the mirror (except for the unruly hair he seemed to claim since he was young) to the hand still gripping tightly on his arm, as if asking for him to never leave the owner's side. He had enough of all of this and all he wanted was to cry his heart out and scream all his hidden thoughts to a barren meadow, but all he could do was place his hand on his father's, gently taking away the grip that kept him rooted on the ground for so many years.

With unrelenting eyes, he muttered darkly, "Have you ever wondered what would make me happy?" before turning away and running to who knows where this late at night.

"Tetsurou!"

He did what he always did best ー running away from his problems.

The young boy did this when he was in the middle of his parents' fights when he was just a little boy and he brought it with him until he was in primary school, where his mother took him under her wing all the way to Tokyo. He nearly ran away when Kenma came into his life, the prospect of having friends and interacting with other children his age so dreadful to the boy that he didn't speak until Kenma asked him what games to play, thus, spurring the two to start volleyball. He nearly ran away when middle school and high school came, the latter made his anxiety rise much higher than the previous point in his life. But this was all erased when many of his high school classmates approached him out of nowhere, clinging onto him and confessing left and right, something that he was not proud of.

The messy-haired boy slowed down his pace to a walk, tears bleeding through his vision and blending in with the drops of rain pattering down on him. "I hate this," he muttered, making measured footsteps on the cobblestones, not noticing that his surroundings seem to transition into a shrine. "I hate the world. I hate myself. I wish I would just end this miserable life right away." Just then, a strong odor of tobacco wafted through his senses, making him perk up in wariness.

In front of him was a huge man dressed in an elaborate yukata, casually smoking on a fancy pipe that Kuroo thought was a relic based on its golden sheen that illuminated under the shrine's overhead lanterns. Feeling skeptical at his current situation, Kuroo slightly took a step back with his eyes still set on the man sitting with a mask stall beside him. His heartbeat picked up its pace because of the nerves starting to churn in his stomach but the dark-haired boy still glanced at the number of masks plastered on the stall and oddly enough, all he could see were cats instead of the variety of animals that were displayed in some of the festival stalls down the hill.

"Welcome," the unnamed man said in a raspy and deep voice, his big, slitted yellow eyes glancing over at Kuroo. "Do you want to try one on? It is said to erase all your worries the moment your face touches the mask."

Erase all your worries?

Kuroo gulped before opening his mouth to speak, "How much is one?"

That offer tempted him and based on the man's appearance, he wasn't a scammer that would run away with his money. There was something from the man's voice that compelled him to try just one mask to see if what he said is true because he definitely needed an escape from reality right about now.

The man chuckled ominously. "No need to pay, young man."

The messy-haired boy furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Is this because your offer is a hoax?"

At this, the unnamed man's chuckles became a full-on laugh. Laughter of scrutiny thrown at him, making Kuroo squirm in his perch. "There wasn't anything about a hoax in what I said, kid. Here," the man reached out from behind him and picked out a black cat mask, throwing it at Kuroo, who leaned forward to catch the object, "try it on."

Kuroo flipped the mask. The front was so detailed that it almost looked real, the paint on the mask's nose seemed to glint with the wetness of a real cat's and even the whiskers protruded on either side of it. The ears also captured his attention ー there were fur inside each one and it even depicted the real colors on what you can see on a cat. The back wasn't much with its embellished white appearance but when Kuroo slowly lifted the mask to try it on, it snuggly fit the shape of his face, sending chills down his spine. It was like the mask was made for him. But his admiring came to a halt when an invisible wall slammed on him, making him lose his balance.

The next moment was so bizarre to Kuroo. At first, everything was normal to him and the next, all objects loomed over his figure like skyscrapers. But when he blinked at the green color invading his optics, his vision seems to sharpen, even more, zeroing on where the man was previously seated and only finding no sign of the unnamed person. His chest tightened with anxiety, jumping at the slightest of sound picked up by his hearing. With shaky legs, Kuroo walked on the pathway with the sole purpose of going home and just wrapping himself in his duvet, praying that the next day will be much kinder to him. Upon passing by a vending machine right at the base of the shrine, his golden eyes widened when his reflection showed a black cat instead of his tall physique.

What is happening?

"What in the world?" Kuroo voiced out but instead of his usual timber, a series of meows ricocheted through the empty shrine. He jumped two feet in the air in surprise, spooked that even the black cat in the vending machine's reflection showed rod-like fur. After a few moments, he slowly walked towards the reflection, both curious and unnerved at what he just witnessed. "How?"

Placing a paw on the glassy surface, Kuroo roamed his eyes over his new body. He wasn't even surprised that the cat he donned has black fur and a small tuff of hair covering a portion of his right eye. Gradually, the boy's parted lips turned into a large smile as he whooped in the air while jumping around. It was cute in a human's perspective ー a little black cat hopping from cobblestone to cobblestone, his little meows twinkling in the night breeze. In all honesty, Kuroo felt so alive to leave his human life behind and the only thought lingering in his head is how much he wanted to be a cat his whole life ー lazing around and looking for different homes all day, no room for homework and the constant argument of familial connections. For an entire hour, Kuroo marveled at the world from a different perspective as he never stopped swaying happily down the path.

Until a familiar scent hit him ー watermelon.

And true enough, there on one of the benches was [Last Name][Name], who was looking blankly at the park in front of her with a half-finished bottle of banana milk loosely held in her hands. It looked like she came from one of her college prep classes based on what she was wearing — a beige turtleneck sweater and a tawny pencil skirt covered by a trench coat. Her hair was the same hairstyle Kuroo always liked on her, a loose braid running down on one of her shoulders, with her fringe carefully framing her ethereal face. It was no surprise to everyone how much he likes the girl and it shows how he gawked at her with round, golden eyes.

She looked at the side and when her gaze found him, Kuroo visibly jumped in shock again. The girl rose her eyebrows in surprise at the sight of the adorable black cat pausing a few feet from her. Kuroo watched [Name] open her backpack and mumbling things under her breath as she searched for something in her bag. Brightening when she finally found what she was looking for, the black cat curiously watched as [Name] waved a pack of biscuits in the air and beckoned him towards her.

"I have some snacks, kitty," she told him, which strangely compelled him to come closer. Who doesn't? The girl he absolutely adores called him 'kitty' with that beautiful smile, of course, he would follow her. When he stopped by her shoes, she then lowered her voice, "Is it alright if I pick you up?"

Kuroo meowed in approval, which [Name] happily took as a good response since she carefully picked him up and placed him on her lap. She then softly ran her fingers on his head, making him purr in contentment. Before nibbling on a biscuit, Kuroo enjoyed the warmth [Name] emitted, looking up at her with his pupils blown wide, which is a sign of his fascination with the girl.

"The night is beautiful ー it's like everything disappeared," she pensively voiced out, her eyes softly staring at the black cat on her lap. "I need more moments like these. People want me to do things that they want, not knowing how much I wanted to be free when I step out in the real world. I mean, I'm going to be eighteen soon and it's a sign that my dad should stop placing shackles that makes me want to cry. I don't even want to be a doctor." She pursed her lips as she paused for a bit as she muttered, "It's so suffocating." The girl then felt paws on her shoulder, making her look up at the adorable black cat, which was a few inches from her face. Then, she felt the tiniest kiss on her cheek, something that elicited a giggle from her. "That tickles."

Raising her hand from her lap, [Name] wrapped them around the cat's body, lifting him a little higher and placing him on her shoulder.

"You smell like lavender," she whispered. "I love it."

Through the night, the boy trapped inside the black cat's body heard his heart pound in his chest, his adoration for the girl blossoming like the fireworks lighting the park.

[purplebunniboy]

Retrograde Character Masterlist

I lied, here are all the characters. I’ll do in depth backstories later.

This probably isn't EVERY character but it's damn near close and just some basics about them that are totally subject to be altered or expanded upon later

---

Afton Family

Michael Frederick Afton/ Fritz Smith/ Mike Schmidt:

Thick curly brown hair, hazel green eyes, grey tshirt with rolled sleeves, tucked into jeans// scars along his face, torso, and arms

Born October 7th, 1969 to Sandra Schmidt and William Afton

The oldest of the Afton children

Loved baseball, got his first bat from Henry

Scar across his nose came from a fight, hand scars came from attempting to pry open Fredbear's mouth during the bite, arm scar came from encounter with the Nightmares, torso scar came from getting scooped, various other scars from animatronic encounters

Fox mask bully, Dayshift worker at Freddy Fazbear’s in 1987, Technician at Circus Baby’s Pizza World and Party Rentals, Nightshift Security Guard at Freddy Fazbear’s in 1998

William David Afton:

Shiny dark hair, soft blue eyes that turned grey the first time he “died”, well-groomed and cared about his looks

Father of Michael, Elizabeth, and Cassidy Afton; Spouse of Sandra Afton

Co-owner of Fredbear’s Family Dinner, Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria, Circus Baby’s Pizza World, Fazbear Robotics and Fazbear Entertainment inc.; Owner of Afton Robotics LLC

Cunning, charming, and extremely persuasive, could find out absolutely anything about anyone and use it against them to get what he wanted

Extremely theatrical and loved going over the top in performances, 

Loved robotics and excelled at crafting learning AI, but could never perfect it how he wanted

Drove himself mad with the idea of immortality and legacy

Absolutely hated being called Billy

Did love his kids, at least originally, he’s only Somewhat a heartless monster, but there’s something still beating in that chest of his

Cassandra “Sandra” Bella Schmidt:

Denim jumpsuit, dyed blonde hair, hazel green eyes

Mother of Michael, Elizabeth, and Cassidy Afton. Spouse of William Afton

Was a Broadway actress but left her career behind to marry William and raise her family

Very soft-spoken, only confident when she was on a stage under the spotlight

Had a beautiful singing voice and would often sing her children to sleep, especially if they woke up from night terrors

Elizabeth “Lizzie” Rose Afton:

Dark strawberry blonde hair curled into tight ringlets and pulled back into two ponytails with red ribbon ties, bright green eyes, often wore a lot bright colors

Born May 12th, 1979. Died February 1986

The youngest of the Afton children

Suspected of being the product of an affair as her looks did not resemble her father’s

Did whatever it took to get her way and was very cunning about how she went about doing that

Liked to sing with her mother and was very musically inclined

Evan “Ev” Afton:

Thick brown curls that often fell in front of bright green eyes, white collared shirt a large black tshirt with two white stripes across the chest

Born October 31st, 1975. Bitten by Fredbear October 31st, 1983. “Died” November 5th, 1983

The middle child of the Afton children

Was never the best at communicating with others, complained a lot, fought with his brother constantly at home

After witnessing Charlie’s unaliving, became traumatized and cried all the time

Had a large collection of stuffed animals but was usually carrying around at least one of the Fazbear Plushies

---

Emily Family

Henry Emily

Shoulder length hair always swept or pulled back out of his face, dirty overalls, hands are never clean

Father of Charlotte and Samuel Emily. Spouse of Donna Emily

Treated all the robots the same way he did his own children

Caring and understanding but had a short temper and lacked patience, especially when under a lot of stress

Extremely talented in robotics, excelling in them from an early age. He could make anything look lifelike and real.

Preferred the comfort of his garage workshop over really showing his face

Donna Fitzgerald:

Big and poofy dark hair, dark eyes, high-waisted acid-wash jeans, pink wool turtleneck

Mother of Charlotte and Samuel Emily. Spouse of Henry Emily.

Strong-willed and very loud about her opinions on things.

Very supportive of Henry’s passion with robotics even if the whole topic gave her headaches when she attempted to wrap her brain around the concept

Charlotte “Charlie” Emily:

Denim overalls decorated with marker drawings of flowers, green striped tshirt, green wrist band, untamable brown hair pulled into two high pigtails

Born June 26th, 1978. Died April 5th, 1983

The younger of the Emily children

Extremely empathetic and caring, always went out of her way to care for children smaller than her, wanting them to feel loved and accepted

She was never afraid to get dirty, she always colored outside of the lines on purpose, she wanted to do the daring and unexpected.

Carried around a porcelain doll that was styled like a black and white jester

Her robotic counterpart was the spitting image of the real one

Robotic Charlie was much more sensitive and much more analytical of the world around her

Samuel “Sammy” Jeremy Emily/ Jeremy Fitzgerald:

Born June 24th, 1970. Bitten by Mangle October 7th, 1987

The older of the Emily children

He was always a very gifted child, excelling in mathematics from a very young age, but hit gifted kid burnout by the time he hit highschool

Never had much of an interest in robotics

Patient and gentle, he preferred to keep to himself and would often seek out quiet places he could be alone

Jennifer “Aunt Jen/Jenny” Emily:

Older sister of Henry Emily

Always had an interest in robotics and passed her skills on to her baby brother

Fiercely loyal to family she would do anything she could to protect them and keep them happy, especially Henry since he was the only family she really had left

She was strong-willed, even in her younger years, and able to hold her own very well

---

Before the Bite

Michelle “Mitchie” Peters:

Spiky short brown hair, green t shirt, blue boy shorts, green sweatbands

Bear mask bully

Older sister to Gabriel Peters

Died July 4th,1985

Michael’s closest childhood friend

A tomboy, closet case, and had a major superiority complex or at least pretended to have one

Called the Mama Bear of the group due to her caring deeply for her friends but aggressiveness towards everyone else

David “Davie” Kennedy:

Wavy black hair, red polo shirt with a popped collar, blue bunny mask

Bigger kid and designated meat shield of the group.

Willing to defend his friends to his dying breath.

Inside, he had a soft core. He was the one who would check on each of them, asking if they were ok and if they needed help. His soft core often got him teased by his friends but it never stopped him from wanting to make sure they were always safe

Bunny mask bully, Technician at Circus Baby’s Pizza World and Party Rentals

Christopher “Chris” Houghton:

Short curly dark hair, long sleeve blue shirt

Chicken mask bully

Never left the arcade, living that sweet gamer life

Liked to run his mouth and always needed to have the last word

Vanessa “Nessa/Ness” Abernathy

Dark hair, rainbow clip extensions, dark eyes

Born December 24th, 1970. 

Knew Michael in school, had a crush on him, he was the first one to ever call her Ness and the only one she ever let call her that

Took a robotics class because of him and also got really into coding

Influenced by William and eventually taken completely under his control. She was his eyes and ears in the outside world. Talks to him through the Spring Bonnie plush when non-possessed

Poses as Mike’s therapist to keep an eye on him for William

Matthew “Matt” Griffiths

Older man though no one was sure how old he actually is or if he can even die, choppy hair, thick rimmed glasses

Phone guy

Dayshift worker/ Training Manager at Fredbear’s Family Diner, General Manager of the first Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria

Loyal to the company but also put his own well being and safety before anyone else’s

Would not stick his neck out for anybody on his own

Blunt and standoffish, sometimes considered rude though he was never rude to customers or kids

One of Afton’s first “puppets”

---

Party of 1985

Susan “Susie” Waylar:

Messy golden blonde curls, blue eyes, pink shirt, bedazzled jeans

Older sister of Samantha Waylar

Best friends with Gabriel Peters

Died June 26th, 1985. Stuffed into Chica

Extremely energetic and always told she should settle and be quieter like her sister

Despite being super messy, constantly having gunk in her hair and under her nails, she had an unnatural ability to always keep her dresses clean

Gabriel “Gabe” Peters:

Straight light brown hair, striped shirt beneath denim overalls, missing front tooth

Younger brother of Mitchie Peters

Died June 26th, 1985. Stuffed into Freddy Fazbear

Stood up for the smaller kids whenever possible

Energetic, never able to settle, and outgoing. Impossible to ever see him not smiling

He was clumsy and always getting hurt accidently.

Best friends with Susie Waylar

Cassidy “Dee-Dee” Richards:

Dark hair always pulled into two uneven pigtails, always wearing yellow

Died June 26th, 1985. Stuffed into Golden Freddy

Pulled a lot of pranks, some lighthearted, some not so much.

Threw tantrums to get what she wanted.

Always wanting to be first, always wanting to come out ahead, always 

Jeremy Velasquez:

Died June 26th, 1985. Stuffed into Bonnie

A generally shy kid who’s loud and energetic around his friends

Started growing out of Freddy’s pretty early on

Susie felt bad for him and invited him to hang out with her and Gabe

Frederick “Fritz” Parker:

Messy auburn hair, pastel pink polo shirt

Died June 26th, 1985. Stuffed into Foxy

Aggressive and rude, rather abrasive and destructive

---

Party of 1987

Pete Dinglewood:

Brown hair, red letterman jacket, backwards baseball cap, prosthetic hand and glass eye after being hit by a car and barely surviving.

Died October 4th, 1987. Stuffed into Foxy

Older brother of Charles “Chuck” Dinglewood

Always sticking gum under the tables in the party rooms

Alec Wilkins:

Blonde curly rocker mullet, sci-fi movie shirt with cut off sleeves, braces

Died October 4th, 1987. Stuffed into Freddy

Older brother of Hazel Wilkins

Could be rude at times, always got himself into trouble and pinned with the “problem child” title

Toby Billings:

Fluffy brown hair, mullet, reminds Michael of Cass, pullover sweatshirt with an athletic team’s logo on the front, always putting stuff in his mouth

Died October 4th, 1987. Stuffed into Bonnie

Younger brother of Connor Billings

Wanted to have the highest scores in the arcade

Cracks his knuckles when he’s lying or when he’s nervous which most people will loudly say is gross and annoying

Millicent “Millie” Fitzsimmons:

Dyed black hair always teased and pinned on one side, always wears a lot of black and intense black makeup

Died October 4th, 1987, stuffed into Chica

Best friends with Alec

Lives alone with her grandfather, who is sometimes hired by Fazbear’s or Afton Robotics to fix any minor technical malfunctions with the animatronics

Was there during the grand opening event of Circuse Baby’s when Elizabeth was killed in 1986

---

Around Town

Connor Billings:

Brown hair, square face, very hyper and always laughing even if the joke isn’t funny

Phone dude

Older brother of Toby Billings

Became obsessed with the mysteries of the place after looking into the 1987 deaths more

Collected old remnants of the closed down restaurants.

Hired by Henry to find the stuff still haunted to put into Fazbear’s Frights, no questions asked

Lowkey scared of Michael saying, quote, “the guy just gives me bad vibes”

Samantha Waylar:

Older sister of Susie Waylar

Quieter, though who’s to say that equals maturity 

Preferred to keep to herself and her books

She knew how to stand up for herself and was actually better at telling kids off than her sister was

Swear she loved Oliver more

Stanley Martinez:

Technician at Circus Baby’s Pizza World and Party Rentals

Was into tech most of his life.

Known to be a generally kind man, putting others and their well being before himself

He was never one to snoop around and would prefer staying out of other’s business

Clayton “Clay” Burke:

Father of Carlton Burke. Spouse of Betty Burke

Chief of police. Was a detective when the 5 murders happened, worked on the case.

Though he is at times a little air headed, he is very caring of those around him

Carlton Burke:

Ginger hair, dark clothing

Only son of Carlton and Betty Burke

Childhood friends of Charlie, John, and Jessica

Always the kind to crack jokes when the mood was down and laugh in the face of danger.

Art and theatre kid

John Aowyn:

Messy brown hair, white shirt, brown leather jacket

Childhood friend of Charlie, John and Carlton. Had a crush on Charlie

He was a writer and constantly lost in his own fantasy world that sometimes it was hard to pull him out of

Jessica Sinclair:

Shiny light brown hair, brown doe-eyes, always clean cut, fashionable clothing, contagious smile

Childhood friend of Charlie, John and Carlton

Fiercely loyal to her friends, and would do anything to protect them. She hated seeing them sad or hurt and was always there with bandaids and snacks the moment they needed her

Very perceptive and smart, she had a love of forensics and her friends would often put on mystery hunts just for her

Leslie Dunn:

Round face, light hair, police uniform

Police officer/ Detective

A bit blunt at times though not with the intention of being rude

A bit awkward at times

Jack Flores:

Younger man, greasy hair, bright eyes

Nightshift Security Guard at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria

Overly curious, couldn’t keep his nose out of other’s business

[jebikkot]

Atispaus - Ep 03. [The One From Far Away]

“Ahn Se-eun, how are you?”

A man with light blue hair and white face, dressed like yesterday, was waving at Se-eun.

Unlike yesterday, he was wearing purple lenses on one side and red lenses on the other.

"Huh! Yesterday that madness... !"

Se-eun closed her mouth tightly at the words that came out without my knowing.

“I'm not crazy, I'm Aso. Are you Ahn Se-eun? Are you Troop?

Regardless of Se-eun's reaction, the light blue haired girl who introduced herself as 'Aso' started asking questions that she couldn't understand again.

“Se-eun is your friend? Her hair color is so pretty, where did you get it?

Yerang, who was applying lip gloss to the side, looked curiously at Aso and secretly took off her apron.

"Where? Aren't you going to make me do it by today's deadline?"

With Ye-rang's suspicious gaze, Se-eun left Aso's question behind and quickly grabbed Ye-rang.

“Oh, I have gastroenteritis. Oh, my stomach hurts so much.”

Yerang, who had been eating pretzels before, suddenly raised a smile and clutched his stomach.

“Hey, with a girl! Yesterday too-"

“Sorry sir, tell me later. But you said someone died here yesterday? Oooh, scary.”

Before Se-eun could finish speaking, Ye-rang traded her flip-flops for high heels.

“Are you leaving me alone in that scary place?”

Se-eun, with a grim expression on her face, muttered, but Ye-rang pretended not to hear and took her bag.

At that time, Aso, who was taking turns looking at Se-eun and Ye-rang, stopped Ye-rang.

"With a girl! Don't you think that if you lied about being sick yesterday and quit your part-time job, you did it twice last week, and if you're like that today, Se-eun Ahn will suffer a lot alone? Don't you know it's time to get busy?"

Aso, who was blocking the front door, shot him, Yerang stopped at the spot with a perplexed expression.

Se-eun was also embarrassed by Aso's sudden action.

"What, why are you talking nonsense?"

Ye-rang, who had spoken with Aso, looked at Se-eun and said:

"Did you tell him all this?"

Ye-rang looked at Se-eun and pursed his lips.

Who has to tell me about this? just look at this I took care of Se-eun because she was kind and looked like other children. Have you ever told the boss that she was going on a date saying she was sick every time?

Ye-rang, who knew that Se-eun was very patient with herself, couldn't say anything.

“First of all, it looks like you have an appointment today, so I'm going first, and tomorrow Yerang, you and Se-eun will do your part.”

"Ah ok. Tomorrow I can do anything. Ahn Se-eun, I'm sorry. Just look at me today. Actually, today is 100 days with my boyfriend."

Yerang, who was embarrassed by Aso's simple tidying up, was confused.

"You say. Why are you all telling lies? Happy hundred days Have a nice date."

When Se-eun smiled, Ye-rang, relieved, left the shop as if she was running away.

Aso frowned at Se-eun, who was looking at Ye-rang's back with a smile.

Se-eun looked into Aso's purple and red eyes and smiled.

It was the same as having to do all the work alone, even Yerangi, but for some reason, Se-eun felt lighter and confused at the same time.

'I'm not crazy, how did you know?'

When Se-eun was about to ask Aso, who was smiling, how she knew of Ye-rang's lies, an announcement sounded on the platform announcing that a train had arrived.

The story was buzzing with people getting off the train right away.

The busiest time of day at the Pretzels store has begun.

Se-eun is taking a deep breath, thinking she's going to sweat on her own, and Aso puts on Ye-rang's apron.

“It's hard to be alone. I will help you."

Aso raised his arms and said.

"Huh? Really? time ok? But have you ever worked part time? Do you know how?"

"Believe me."

Aso whispered quietly into Se-eun's ear, and began to spit a gentle voice down to her bones.

“The most delicious pretzels in the world. I added a lot of almonds in particular. Enjoy your trip."

“Can I bring you? Careful, the coffee is hot.”

“Customers, garbage is not thrown away because of store hygiene. Do you see that garbage can? Please sort your garbage directly from there.”

Despite Se-eun's concerns, Aso treated customers better than Se-eun, who had just completed a month of part-time work, and Yerang, who had been working for three months.

Se-eun didn't look tired today thanks to Aso's smile, even in the midst of hectic work.

Se-eun was able to safely get through the terrifying rush hour when she wanted to throw everything and run away if she was alone with Aso.

After a busy time, Se-eun, who found time to relax, made Aso a latte and said:

“Thanks, Aso. Thanks to you, I got through my busy time well. I'm a little more relaxed now, so it's okay to stop helping me. Today, I will tell the boss that you worked two hours instead of Yerangi. You will likely get it right away. Even my friend Junhui sometimes takes care of him like that. First, write your account number...”

“Alright, I just did it for fun. I wanted to help you.”

Aso, who was drinking chocolate latte coffee, interrupted Se-eun's words.

"Me, why?"

“You can tell what a good kid you are when you hear the music you make.”

"What?"

Se-eun felt as if she had been hit on the head by Aso's sudden words.

“Did you say music now? did you hear me?"

Se-eun, who likes music, has a habit of always thinking of new melodies when focusing on something.

She tries to hum the mood or feeling of that moment to a tune and write it down as if she were writing a journal before going to bed.

Of course, Se-eun was working on melodies a while ago.

It’s Se-eun’s secret habit that neither her grandmother nor her old friend Jun-hoo know about… …

He was talking about Se-eun's habit as if Aso knew.

“You kept humming melodies as you worked. This is the song you made, right?"

"Ah... that one... Did I hum loudly?"

"No, you didn't scream."

Aso replied innocently.

“So how did you... That's right, how did you know that Yerang ran away last week too? Are you a fortune teller or something?”

Feeling like he was possessed by something, Se-eun asked questions without hesitation.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't listen on purpose. I tried not to listen, but Se-eun said you were thinking too loud."

Aso smiled and took a sip of the milk chocolate.

'Did you think big? So can you hear me?'

Se-eun, who was speechless, looked at Aso.

It was hard to believe, but Aso knew that Yerang had missed the deadline twice in the past week, that she was meeting her boyfriend today, and that the store was packed.

"Who are you?"

Aso, who made eye contact with Se-eun, who was still stunned, smiled brightly.

Love, violet flower.