#I know that sounds naive but I’ve had cats my entire life

[froody]

I wasn't on Tumblr much for a bit, what happened with Daphne? Just not a good fit? Scrolled back but couldn't find anything and tag search is, predictably, useless

She had behavioral issues from the beginning. I spent 4 months working with her and made a little progress but nothing substantial. Finally, she developed a territorial pissing problem where she would urinate where guests had sat. It was ruining the furniture. That was kind of the final straw but I had been struggling and cried over her several times before that. She just wasn’t happy as an indoor cat around people.

[nebraska-is-a-myth]

Foolish's Monologue - 04/03/2021

It has come to my attention, that during my summer retreat; living off in the desert, as I have been since arriving here, that perhaps I've been living a little naively. Which bothers me. It bothers me when I get things wrong. You would think, you would think after all these years, so many years, that I wouldn't misunderstand things, that I would have learned lessons. That I would know everything, but, I guess there's some meaning behind my name. I think it applies not just to me though either, I think it applies to most creatures. I think everyone's perhaps a little foolish, and [laughs] boy was I foolish. I thought, I thought I was safe here, and don't get me wrong, I still don't quite fear it. No. But it does bother me. It does bother me that I thought it was a mere pest, that I didn't need to pay it much attention.

So I've learnt two things; one, the egg is perhaps not just a pest. I thought it would just go away on its own, you know most pests, most pest's eventually, they come to their own demise one way or another. But this, this might be a little bit different. Now its not all bad, it hasn't corrupted everything. As far as I know, the temple of the undying is still safe and sound. Though it does trouble me, it does trouble me. I thought perhaps this statue would help protect this place. Maybe my cats would protect from the evil.

So now where do we go from here? What exactly are we dealing with? What exactly is this? Because if I haven't been clear enough, I have been around for a long while. And this is something I'm not familiar with. Is this an ancient foe I've faced before? Or something entirely new. Perhaps its a new foe. Perhaps the egg is a little naïve in of itself, for drawing me into this battle. And also I've been thinking too, maybe not just was I naïve, maybe a little selfish. Maybe a little selfish for just coming here and trying to live a peaceful life.

- And then this gets me wondering, who else has to deal with this, how far is this thing willing to spread. Well, I don't know. I'm still confident, but no longer blindly confident. So lets maybe switch things up a little. [puts on op armor set]

I'm not saying I'm going to war right now, but just preparing.

This also gets me thinking, as I was saying, how do we deal with this. Who is the right person to deal with this?

Well, we had tommy. He, while young, still had some kind of heroic power to him. But for now that doesn't matter. But who else is there, there's technoblade. The fierce warrior he is. But can even he compete with something as unnatural, unsettling as it is. But then it gets me thinking, other perhaps risky ideas, what about dream. If dream was not in prison right now, would he let it spread? Or maybe he's in favor of the egg. That's what we don't know! So I've thought about it, but perhaps that would just lead to more problems. SO once again that might be naïve to think that dream gunna be the reason to save us. Hmmmm. I don't know if I wanna go right to the egg, but maybe let's get a little closer. Just a little closer.

You know the more I think about it, I don't know if I'm bothered, if I'm angry, if I'm disappointed that I didn't try to do anything sooner about this. This egg. But there's no time for regret, we're here now. Now we've just got to come up with something. Allies, allies would be good. I believe my adoptive father, captain puffy, is also against this.

[now in the egg room]

It's just a foul, a real foul thing indeed. But like I said, I don't fear it. [laughs] I do not fear this. But understanding is important. Confidence is important. But not blindly going about stuff, that is where foolish actions can occur. So what about this thing, what about this thing makes it so special. Because from what I've seen, it take the minds, it controls them, corrupts them. And finding anger with bad, or antfrost or punz or anyone else that might be under the influence, I don't hold any grudge against them. I don't think that's truly what they want to do, they don't mean to cause harm. But let me tell you, mind controls a powerful thing. Not too many creatures can do such a thing, especially with so many.

And who do we have here? See this was one of the guys I was talking about, pink, I've spoken with him before, and he's trying to play both sides and I don't think you can just play both sides, that is naïve in of itself to think that you can just tread with this but not be corrupted.

You know its starting to bother me more and more. Like I said I'm not mad at them, no this is the real problem.

[egg laughs, so does foolish] I don't think I fear you. Right now you just appear to be an egg, but what.are.you.really. Have we ever met before? Do you have a name? I don't believe we've met before, I believe you're a new foe. Something I haven't quite seen in all my years. You think you're more powerful, be careful, be careful being naïve. Maybe so, maybe so but we will see cause you, you might have fucked up, dragging me into this. Laugh, laugh if you want. We’ll see.

[ egg: time will tell ] Time will tell indeed. Well it was nice meeting you, it was nice talking to you, and thank you for intruding. This won't be yours forever, I'll figure this out. Someone will.

[leave the egg room]

I don't know what it could be. A mere witch can't do that. What has the power to control minds? Witches, warlocks can maybe influence one, demons dreamons! Even they I have seen to maybe tinker with someone's mind but not control and just twist so many at one time. Like I said, I won't be naïve again. It has my attention. And maybe it's for the best.

Right now the egg might think it's the alpha, top dog in the chain, like I was saying all creatures are a little foolish one way or another, like a shark. I think it rules the ocean. Swims around eating almost anything it wants, but all it takes is one day a killer whale and boom! Shark loses. It's gone. But even still that killer whale, little does it know, there is a mighty sailor with a harpoon ready to take it out. Killer whale dead. One harpoon to the heart is gone, no longer the alpha. And then even that sailor, just might think he knows everything, that he rules the ocean. But the ocean laughs, because all it takes is a flick of a wave. And that sailors in the ocean. Dead! Drowned! Eaten by shrimp, and that sailor thought he was so mighty. And that's what I'm trying to explain. Be careful, be careful when you think you're so high and mighty because little do you know until its too late. That maybe there is something above you.

Just because I've been here a while does not mean I'm the smartest, humbleness can go a long way. But for now, we’ll just have to wait and see.

[beomcoups]

Bad Alive

𝐅𝐨𝐫 @𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 ‘𝐬 𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐪𝐮é

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mafia!boss Kun (NCT) x mafia!boss reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, fluff, angst, mafia au, friends with benefits au, childhood 

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: R (18+)

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), rough missionary, nail digging, squirting, mentions of violence, guns, swearing

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.6k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: The rival boss is a bad kind of player, with thousand dollar shoes. He's the final obstacle in your three year journey to the top of your group. It would be a piece of cake - if he wasn't your ex-lover.

𝐀𝐍: A massive thank you to @darknytemare​, @sunshinekims​ and @lovey-simone for beta reading for me 🖤

You first spotted him surrounded by his crew and women in the VIP, leaning over the rail. His eyes watching the club like a hawk, the scene unraveling before him. His honey blonde hair cut short into an undercut, well-tailored suit, and nice smile caught you off guard, as you usually don’t see these kinds of men in this club.

“Who is that?” You ask the bartender, pointing in his direction.

“Oh, that’s Qian Kun; he is the owner of this club,” the bartender says matter-of-factly.

“Do you mean Qian, as in Qian mafia?!” your voice unexpectedly rises, earning a few looks from the people around you.

You turn around and sneak another look at him, watching the ladies laugh at his every word, clearly loving the attention. Rumors spread quickly about the club being owned by a mafia Don.

“Shh! Are you trying to get yourself killed?” He whispers, working on a drink for a customer. Naive was your best ploy and to get where you needed to be you had to be coy. “But yes, it has the affiliation. So be careful.”

You nod and take a swig of your drink, finishing it completely before making your way to the dance floor. You already knew who Kun was. His reputation exceeding him, just from his looks alone he wouldn’t be expected. His looks made him look innocent almost, knowing the things his mafia did to people who weren’t needed anymore, you knew you had to proceed with caution before you went into action.

 Kun wasn’t an ordinary guy; he is the Qian mafia head after inheriting it from his father a year ago. Being the daughter of the rival mafia, the Zodiacs, had its perks. He’s not a total stranger to you, as you grew up to be childhood friends and eventually lovers, losing your virginities to each other as you both became adults. You wanted a relationship, but he didn’t want anything serious; he just wanted your friendship and to fuck you ravishingly whenever he could.

 You were okay with that for a while until you moved out of town and stayed away for three years. Since then, your families became enemies over a bad drug deal. The severity growing by the minute. Moving back recently brought on memories but that’s what you intended on keeping them as. Your father knew you were ready to take over the family business. So forth your here now attending to some routine affairs, before everything could be complete you had to cut down the biggest threat:

Kun

This was the final task, one you planned on exploiting until the last minute.You find a spot dancing with the strangers, the EDM sounds booming through the place. You get lost in the moment, allowing your body to move however you wanted it to, almost forgetting your task at hand. Your hair covers your face, but you can see your surroundings, and you notice one of his men and another childhood friend, Hendery, approaching you with his hand for you to shake.

“Come on, Hendery, we’re not strangers,” you forgo his hand and give him a hug. “How have you been? How’s your mom?”

“She’s good. Stubborn as ever,” he adjusts his tie, trying to hide his goofy grin. “Kun wanted me to bring you up to him.”

“I know,” you say, cocking an eyebrow at him. You look up in his direction, and Kun is smirking at you, holding a glass and lifting it up in your direction.

“If he wants me, he’ll have to come down here and fetch me himself,” you shrug, going back to the music. “It was nice seeing you again.”

Hendery nods and goes back to Kun, who gazes at you once more before removing the women’s hands touching his shoulders and making his way towards you. You liked this cat and mouse game, making him chase you around until he finally caught up and had his way. It’s unfortunate that you have to end his life in order to be the boss, but you’re not looking for love; you just want his body one last time.

Kun approaches you, and oddly the wind almost gets knocked out of you; he’s more handsome than the last time you saw him, and you can tell his very expensive suit was tailored just for him.

“Y/N… It’s been a while,” he greets me, kissing my left cheek.

“Yes, yes it has,” you agree, fluffing your hair off your shoulder.

“You look good,” his eyes wander all over your dress, biting his bottom lip.

“I know I do,” you grin seductively, pulling him to the crowd. “Dance with me.”

You take his hand and guide him to a spot on the dance floor, seducing him as you grind your body on his, allowing his hands to grace your hips. His cologne is strong enough to fill your senses of him, but you can still keep aware of what’s going on around you. His men are entertained by the women in their view; the security is placed at each exit door, making it harder for you to sneak off without being seen.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” Kun questions you, your heart skipping a beat.

“I’m dancing, “ you respond coyly, turning around to face him. 

“You don’t miss me?”

He scoffs and pulls you closer to him, his hands firmly on your ass.

“It’s been three years, and you just show up here? I don’t buy it,” he challenges you, matching your rhythm to the beat.

You look deep into his eyes, and you know he means business, but you keep your poker face focused on the mission at hand.

“What if I was here to see you?” You whisper into his ear. 

“How would that make you feel?”

“You’d have to show me that you wanted to see me,” he buffers.

 “How are you going to do that?”

You lean in and kiss him, slightly tugging on his suit, pulling him closer and under your spell. Your tongue makes magic with his, your body burning up from the sexual tension you have been harboring.

“Does that answer your question?” You tease him, nibbling the bottom of his lip.

“Maybe…” Kun trails off, motioning to his right-hand man, Ten. “I’ll need more convincing at my place. Meet me in the back alley; there is already a car there.”

You watch him say something to Ten before grabbing his coat, and you make your way to the back entrance, a black car already heated and ready to go. Kun has never been a man of a lot of words, but you know the steamy dance session has him wanting you, and you would be a liar if you didn’t admit you wanted him too. You might be holding some small feelings for him, being an old lover and someone you grew up with, but the family business comes first, no matter the cost… right?

“Are you ready?” Kun’s hand brushes your back, chills taking over your body.

You nod as our feet touched the cold ground, his home was calling.

“Your place is nice,” you observe as you walk into Kun’s penthouse.

You take off your heels and set them on the hardwood floor, walking into the spacious living room with a grand view of the city. The kitchen isn’t too far with a built-in bar attached and just based on what’s in front of you, you know this place isn’t cheap. Kun is rummaging through his wine rack and comes with a bottle of red wine and two glasses.

“Thank you. Are you thirsty?” Kun asks, pouring some in his glass.

“Yeah. I’ll take a little sip,” you grab and sit on one of the stools.

He pours some wine in a gold-trimmed glass, and you thank him, taking a small sip like you promised. You don’t like wine much, but you need something to calm your nerves and the heat brewing in your core. 

“So, are you finally going to be honest with me?” Kun interrogates you, almost catching you off guard.

You stay composed and take another sip, finishing it entirely and setting it down on the island bar. 

“What makes you think I’m not being honest with you?” You counter, slowly walking towards him. 

“Come on, Y/N,” he scoffs, brushing his hair back with his hands. “It’s been years, and I haven’t heard from you. Let alone a goodbye, and now you just show up here and flirt with me? I know you better than that.”

You know he’s making sense, and you think of a quick lie to cover your tracks. You taking over the family business is on the line, and despite the small feelings you still hold for him, you cannot fuck this up. 

“I promise I came to see you,” you swear, waving your hands dramatically. It is the truth after all.

“Do you still have feelings for me?” Kun starts, loosening his tie. “I told you years ago I’m not the relationship type. That hasn’t changed.”

It is your turn to scoff, letting out a hearty laugh from the pit of your soul. 

“I’m in town because I have some family stuff to attend to. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, and I wanted to see what’s been up with you,” you wave him off. “But obviously, this is a lot for you, so I’m going to go.”

You make your way to the door and grab your shoes, willing to walk outside in the cold barefooted until your ride came. That didn’t happen, however, as Kun grabs your arm, backing you into the wall. 

“You’re still dramatic as ever,” Kun states before bringing his lips to yours.

You kiss him back, tearing open his shirt, buttons flying everywhere as your hands rub across his chest. His big hands lift you up, carrying you to his massive bedroom and setting you down on the bed, 

“Strip,” Kun demands, unbuckling his belt. 

You get up, slowly lowering each strap on your dress, pulling your dress down until your breasts and thong were exposed. Kun pulls you to him, kissing you once more, leaning you back onto the bed. His lips trail to your stomach, leaving soft marks while he lowers your panties with his other hand. 

“You’re the same way I remembered you years ago,” he whispers. “You are still as beautiful as ever.”

“Yeah yeah,” you brush off his words, your breath hitching as his lips meet your sweet spot. 

Kun smirks and leaves a sensual kiss, your back arching as he is tasting your sweet nectar. Your hands are grasping for his hair; the rapturous way he makes your body feel is astral projecting you into paradise. His tongue takes a long swipe on your sweet pussy, his ravenous lust coming out of his pores as he tongue fucks you.

“My god-” you choke on air, your stomach coiling under pressure at your release. His nails dig into your ass, and you come undone, your honeyed essence dripping down his chin as he drinks you in. You beg him to stop, but he continues his onslaught, causing you to cum again shortly after. 

“You are going to suck me dry,” you rasp, out of breath. 

He finally pulls away, licking his lips, a sly grin plastered on his face as he lifts your leg up, slowly rubbing his shaft.

“Wait,” you attempt to sit up. “You don’t want me to do it?”

“No,” he eases himself inside of you. “I don’t have time for that. I need to feel you.”

You know you should have asked him to put on a condom, but the moment he climbed over and plowed into you, your sense of reasoning went out the door. He fucks you likes he missed you, rapaciously pounding into you like a street whore, and you return his aggression with your nails dug deep into his back. He cups your mouth with his big hands, kissing you and taking your energy away as you reach your peak once more. 

“Go ahead,” Kun grits his teeth. “I want to feel you all over me.”

No second later, you splash everywhere, squirting all over him and his sheets, surprising yourself as you have never done that with anyone before. He finishes shortly after, releasing his hot load on your stomach, kissing you tenderly until he was well spent. 

“Phew!” You collapse on the bed, your vision blurry, and your energy depleted. You hear him chuckle, and you roll your eyes, slightly annoyed at his arrogance. He’s obviously picked up a thing or two while you were gone, and you wouldn’t mind doing this with him again if only you didn’t have to kill him. You hear him leave and go into the bathroom, and you sit up, looking around for what you can find on him before he gets out. You notice a planner on the nightstand, and you rummage through it, finding his schedule of the week, and you make mental notes. You hear the sink water come on, and you quickly put it back and get back into the position before he comes out.

“Are you tired?” He comes out with a hand towel, taking care to wipe his semen off of my stomach.

“A little,” you admit, your body sinking comfortably into the bed. 

“Well, stay the night,” he suggests, disposing of the hand towel and coming back into bed.

“Eh,” you sound unsure. “I’m not trying to put you out of your bed, and I don’t want you getting ideas.”

Kun shakes his head, pulls you closer to him, and you lay back down. “I’m not the one who was in love years ago. As long as you know this isn’t going to be more than this, you can stay as many nights as you want.”

“Yeah, sure,” you say sarcastically, nuzzling into the pillow. “I’m not the same girl you grew up with. You’ll see.”

It’s been five months since that night, and things started to change. He was still the Kun you grew up with, but softer. He was still a shrewd mafia boss and ran his business with an iron fist, but with you, he was sweet. His eyes shined when you walked into the room; he continued to fuck you mercilessly and doted on you like a princess after. It became more than fuck sessions, the calls wanting to know about your day and randomly showing up with dinner. If you didn’t know better, you would think he was falling in love with you.

You would be a liar if you didn’t admit to yourself that you started to have some feelings for him and you enjoyed his company, but as much as you want that companionship, the mafia comes first, and he has to go. You’ve been getting heat from your family, who wants this charade to end so you can finally take your place at the head of the Zodiacs. You pushed it off longer than you’d realize, and after the insistent nagging in every meeting, you decided tonight was the night. 

“Hey,” you let Kun into your condo, dressed in a white tee and gray sweatpants. You invited him over, making up a lie about someone following you home. Your hair is pinned into a bun, and you just got out of the shower. You have had to kill before, but this was different; you never had to kill someone you cared about. 

“Where did you say he was following you,” Kun asks, looking out your window. 

“I was leaving the warehouse, and I noticed this sedan was following me,” you fake a sigh, more so to calm your nerves. “I went a long way home and was able to lose them, thank God.”

“Mmhmm,” is all he says, and he continues to look outside and around your place, checking to see if anyone else was inside. You act completely natural, flipping through the channels until you find something semi-decent to put on the tv, not that you’ll be watching it much.

“You know you didn’t have to call me over here,” Kun plops on the couch next to you, laying his head on your nap. “You could’ve called one of your guards here.”

“I know,” you shrug, playing in his hair. “But I wanted you over here. Is that such a bad thing?”

He perks his lips up, and you kiss him, the sweet taste lingering on his lips that has you wanting more. His hands take out your bun, allowing your hair to fall down your face.

“I’m glad you asked me over,” Kun whispers, leaving the last kiss on your nose. Your heart is touched, and you start to feel tears form, so you make a motion that you are getting up and go into the bathroom, leaning against the door. You wish there was another way to be in charge and still have him. You went into this cold-hearted and not wanting love, but here he is, sucking you in again like years before. You take a long look in the mirror before reaching underneath the sink for the pistol you kept hidden there. Your hands are searching for it before you bend and look for yourself, grabbing it and taking it out of its case. You take a deep breath and open the door, Kun on the other side startling you. 

“Jesus!” You exclaim, clutching your shirt. “You scared the shit out of me.”

You walk past him into the kitchen for a glass of water. You feel your face hot from embarrassment, and you gulp your water down, ready to face what’s to come. 

“Are you okay?” you hear Kun behind you. “You seem a bit off.”

It’s now or never, you say to yourself. You clear your throat and pull out the gun from behind you, aiming for Kun’s head. Instead of looking shocked, he sighs heavily, taking a seat on one of the stools. 

“It was only a matter of time, I suppose,” he surmises, raking his hands through his hair. 

“I’m sorry,” your voice is small, fighting back the tears. “I wish this could have ended differently.”

“It can be different,” he pleads. “Let’s leave this life behind. Run away with me.”

You look at him incredulously before bursting into laughter, your voice bellowing throughout your kitchen. You two were both born into the mafia families; it’s either them or death. No way you can just leave without being hunted down. 

“You sound crazy,” you scoff, scratching your left temple with your gun. “You are just saying that to get out of this.” You cock the safety back, ready to pull the trigger. 

“Have you ever known me to be a liar, Y/N?” he asks, slowly getting off of the stool. “I knew you were sent to kill me the day you showed up at my club. No way you just randomly showed up to see me.”

You keep your poker face, but your heart is pounding at his revelation. You thought you covered your tracks, keeping your i’s dotted and your t’s crossed. What happened?

“Come on, I’m in the business Y/N. I already know how this goes,” he points out, moving closer to you.

“So if you knew, why haven’t you stopped me?” You move your finger to the trigger, something he notices and stops dead in his tracks. 

“I fell in love with you,” he confesses. “I went into this thinking that I could have a little fun before we eventually would have to square off, but you made me want love… You reminded me of the times we were kids and growing up together, and it feels good. I don’t want to lose that.”

The silence is deafening, the tears you were blocking pouring out of your eyes. 

“I know you feel the same,” Kun steps slowly to you again, entering your personal space. “I know you want to leave this life behind.”

You hate that he is right, and if you had the strength, you would end it right here and now. But his eyes are showing a vision of love, an alternate reality where you two can be together without having to look over your shoulders; A life of leisure with your childhood sweetheart, the love of your life. 

“But how could this even work—”

You’re cut off with his lips pressed against yours, almost knocking you out your senses. You give in to his feelings, setting the gun on the counter and placing your hands on his neck, deepening the kiss. 

“Let’s find a way to end this together,” Kun’s voice is shaky, his eyes peering into your soul.

You nod, sniffling as you turn around and reach for a paper towel to dry your face. 

“I love you, Y/N.”

That’s the last thing you remember before the gun went off and everything faded to black.

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (March 4/2021) -      Life and Death

Foolish  has found signs of the Egg’s intrusion on his land near the Temple of Undying, and wonders if it’s finally time to step in... What is this new foe, with remarkable control over people’s minds?

And what does it mean to play god?

---

VOD LINKS:

Ponk

Tubbo

HBomb

Foolish

Tommy

Karl

Antfrost

Ranboo

---

- One thing leads to another, Tubbo visits HBomb’s savannah mansion, puts him on house arrest, revokes it because H put on a suit, and forms an AA board.

- Foolish sails in a boat wonders whether he’s been living...a little naively. 

“You would think after so many years, that I wouldn’t misunderstand things. That I would’ve learned lessons, that I would know everything, but...I guess there’s some meaning behind my name. I think it applies not just to me though, either...I think it applies to most creatures. I think everyone’s perhaps a little foolish.”

- He reaches the shore and shows that his statue has been covered in Blood Vines. 

“And boy was I foolish...I thought I was safe here.”

- He doesn’t fear the Egg, but it does bother him. He thought he didn’t need to pay much attention to it, that it was just a pest. But the Egg might require more attention than he assumed. He thought his statue, his cats, they would protect this place.

- How far is this thing willing to spread? What is it? An old foe, or a new one? Foolish gathers his full set of Netherite. He wonders who they could seek for help. Tommy? Technoblade?

"But then...it gets me thinking...other, perhaps, risky ideas...what about Dream? If Dream was not in prison right now, would he let it spread -- or maybe he’s in favor of the Egg! That’s what we don’t know."

- Foolish heads to the Egg Room. What makes the Egg special?

- He doesn’t hold any grudge against Bad or Ant or Punz or anyone else whose mind has been corrupted by the Egg. Mind control is an interesting thing. Not many creatures can do it.

- He meets eyes with Ponk, whose eyes are red. Foolish talks about how it’s unwise to think that one can tread the line and not become corrupted. Ponk tells him to come look. 

- The Egg starts to make noises...a laugh?

“Have we ever met before?”

- There’s a rattling noise.

“Do you have a name?”

The Crimson speaks, but for the first time, it’s not in reverse:

“LEAVE...”

“I don’t believe we’ve met before. You’re a new foe, something I’ve not quite seen in all my years...”

“You think you’re more powerful? Be careful...careful being naive.”

“Maybe so, maybe so, but we will see. ‘Cause you might have fucked up dragging me into this.”

- The Egg laughs.

“Laugh. Laugh if you want, we’ll see.”

“TIME WILL TELL.”

“Time...will...tell...in-deed!”

“Well, it was nice getting to know you. It was nice talking with you. And thank you for intruding!”

“BYE...BYE...”

- Foolish goes to leave, as the Egg continues to laugh. Someone will figure this out.

“What has the power to control minds? Witches, warlocks, perhaps could maybe influence one...Demons, Dreamons? Even they, I have seen, have the power to tinker with someone’s mind, but not control and twist so many at one time."

- Foolish returns to the Temple of Undying, a peaceful place.

“And that is what I’m trying to explain...that be careful! Be careful when you think you’re all high and mighty, ‘cause little do you know until it’s too late...that maybe there is something above you...”

“If the Egg was really so powerful, let me see it here. I want to see its vines right here.”

- He thought the Egg was a pest, that it would just die on its own. It looks like he might need to start talking with more people.

“I like to build...and there’s still...a room that I have up my sleeve. A room that, as far as I know, no one knows about...it’s still a last resort. I don’t think we’re quite needing this yet, but...it’s still something to keep in mind.”

- There’s a room in Foolish’s basement under the statue, a special staircase down. He hesitates, but does not go down there yet.

“Tinkering with life and death, it’s...very profound. It shouldn’t just be toyed with lightly.”

“But this...this is something I’ll no longer take lightly.”

---

Tommy’s Resurrection

(Again, this part of the recap will be more detailed)

---

- Tommy’s before-stream screen starts with “Undertale” playing. There’s nothing but a black screen.

“Am I dead?”

“Hello, Tommy.”

- Tommy asks Wilbur how long is left. Wilbur goes to check, saying there are eight more eons to go.

- Wilbur offers Tommy competitive solitaire.

- Schlatt and Mexican Dream are also there, though Wilbur thinks Schlatt’s been asleep for around three months.

- Wilbur is happy that Tommy’s there. 

“Me and you were never good for that server...you can look at the entire history, and it all falls in our laps...”

“I genuinely think if it weren’t for me and you dying, the server would be in shambles. I know for a fact that if I’m brought back in some way it’s definitely just gonna go to shit again. I know what I’m like, that’s the issue.”

- Tommy says he hates it here. Wilbur says his plan is, in a couple months, they can set up a competitive solitaire arena.

- Wilbur’s voice disappears.

“Tommy...Tommy? Wake up.”

- Tommy wakes up in the cell with Dream.

- Dream asks what it was like. Tommy says it was dark. Dream asks if there were others there, Tommy says there was Schlatt, Mexican Dream -- Dream sounds excited about Tommy talking with Schlatt.

- Dream asks...what did it feel like? Death? No one has ever been dead and been back before.

Dream: “I was kind of scared it wouldn’t work...”

Tommy: “You were scared it wouldn’t work?”

Dream: “I mean I never tried it...”

- Tommy explains that death felt like being pulled apart and put back together again.

- Dream asks what was Wilbur like.

Tommy: “Do you remember what Wilbur was like? Here?”

Dream: “Yeah! Wilbur was awesome!”

- Dream tells Tommy everyone thinks he’s still dead.

Dream: “Tell me one more time, what was it like. When you die, what does it feel like?”

Tommy: “I felt like I was shredded to dust--”

Dream: “Did it feel good?”

Tommy: “No, no, it didn’t feel good, it felt like I was put through a shredder. There was no blood, there was no flesh, there was just essence.”

Tommy: “A tunnel of black and void, not even black just colorless.”

- Dream said he tried to give Tommy time. Tommy says he was in there for months. He asks where Tubbo, Jack and Phil are. Dream asks how long he was in there. Tommy says a month or so.

Dream: “Tommy, you were there for two days, Tommy.”

- They lost count when “Schlatt started doing the thing,” but they were counting. Tommy says that was just the first “round,” and Schlatt insisted they count like that...they kept count up until about a month and 20 days.

Tommy: “He always liked the number 18...”

- Dream says he only did it to prove that the revive book was real. Tommy remembers the book...it’s real. It’s actually real.

Dream: “I...I’m a god! I can bring people back to life, I didn’t even know for sure that I could, but I can! I’m actually a god! I -- this -- I could kill people and just bring them back if I wanted to!”

- Tommy asks how long Wilbur’s been dead. Dream says he’s not sure...maybe six months?

- Tommy says that the things Wilbur talked about, said he would do...

Tommy: “Promise me, never, EVER -- Dream look at me, LOOK AT ME! -- NEVER bring back Wilbur...please, please, please. Dream, I thought he was like my brother, alright, even before, I wasn’t sure, I tried going to his revival...Dream, I’ve been there for so long now, I take every ounce of doubt I had back. Do not. Bring back. Wilbur. EVER.”

“Dream, you are NOTHING. You are FINE, we can be friends if you don’t bring him back, all the tragedies you’ve done--”

- Dream says it’s up to him. Maybe he’ll flip a coin!

“Dream...why did you keep asking me how it was?”

Dream: “I just -- I wanna know! It’s interesting!”

- Dream wonders if they could send him back to figure out more.

Tommy: “You’re too powerful -- you’re too powerful! ...Dream? Burn the book. Burn the book, now, Dream! You think you understand -- you don’t understand this, this is so much bigger than that. The TRAUMA, everything -- you couldn’t even comprehend what I’ve gone through, alright? Burn the book now, please.”

- Dream says he doesn’t have the book, just the information, the knowledge inside of it, and he can’t burn knowledge.

Dream: “I wanna know about death, you know? We can study it! We can study it together! We can become IMMORTAL together! By studying it!”

- Tommy tells Dream to burn the book again, but Dream insists that it’s in his mind, he can’t get rid of that. He goes over to the lava and throws one of his books in.

Dream: “I can burn every book that I have and it will do nothing.”

...

Dream: “How am I even gonna die? I’m in this--”

Tommy: “Dream? I have to kill you. This isn’t even a matter of disliking you or not, disregard all of our previous entaglements -- you have to die.”

Dream: “Okay...go on then. Kill me.”

- Dream simply goes to the corner, waiting.

Dream: “Go ahead. Do it.”

Tommy: “This is where you die, in the prison...and you’re fine with this?”

Dream: “Here, use some potatoes, just like with you.”

Tommy: “And you’re fine with this? You’re fine with me just beating you to -- you die, and revival goes down with you, and I’ll kill you in the fuckin’ prison! The prison you would’ve never fucking get out of, if only I hadn’t come here, and I wouldn’t have been trapped in here, I would’ve been fucking fine, so now I’m gonna kill you, and I’m gonna be trapped alone. I’m gonna...and I’m gonna be in here...”

- Tommy starts, but then stops.

Tommy: “And if I kill you now, then I’ll be in here...then I’ll be stuck in here. And I know the book I signed. I can’t...so if I kill you in here, what happens if I kill you in here?”

- Dream says that Awesam is mad with him so no one would even realize Tommy was in there for a while. Tommy wonders about the conditions of the waivers -- the books meant breaking in, not trying to kill, right?

- Dream says it could be a couple months before Awesam checks again, he might assume Dream had gotten out.

Dream: “Kill me if you want, I’m fine! I’ll stand right by the lava, you could punch me into it, I’ll set myself on fire.”

He steps into the lava, lighting himself on fire.

“Come on. Go ahead.”

- Tommy knows that Sam takes his job as warden seriously, he knows what he signed.

Tommy: “I can’t kill you in here, because then I’ll be in here forever myself, and then...and then it’ll be worse than down there! Or up there -- I don’t know where it was -- but it will be worse than...it will be worse than death. And then I’ll have to die in here, and then I’ll go back there...with no more memories, no more anything, just suffering.”

- Dream says that now that Tommy knows, though once Tommy gets out of the prison, he can go and tell everyone that Dream has the book, that he wasn’t lying. Tommy can tell everyone that Dream was telling the truth.

Tommy: “I can’t kill you...I can’t kill you...I need to kill you, and I can’t.”

- Dream realizes that he could kill Tommy, kill Tubbo, and just bring them back!

Dream: “Everyone...is my puppets.”

- Tommy is horrified that Dream would kill him just to prove a point.

Tommy: “With this much power...you killed me.”

Dream: “You wouldn’t believe me! What else am I gonna do?”

Tommy: “You killed me to prove your own point -- you could’ve just showed me, you could’ve just -- this is so evil, this isn’t like before -- you put me through torture, through pain, to prove a POINT, Dream! That’s fucked! You can’t do that to me, to any --”

Dream: “Why? I can, Tommy! You didn’t believe me! You were calling me a liar, how else am I supposed to prove it?”

...

Tommy: “You’re. nothing, Dream, you don’t know what it’s like. You’re not just evil now, you are fuckin’ demented. Fuck you. Fuck you, man. Seriously, more than before -- you’re not just a villain, you’re not just the villain in the history books -- you are the fuckin’ Devil, man.”

- Dream says he has to let Tommy out of there alive

Dream: “Otherwise Sam will cut off my visitors, he’ll feed me less, he’ll do all these things -- but what I will do -- I’ll let you free, I’ll let you free, we’ll call for Sam, we’ll get him in here, he’ll let you out. But...I’m gonna bring back Wilbur...and (laughs) Wilbur’s gonna help me escape. He will owe me his life! And he’s been there for how many years? He’s probably the smartest man on the entire planet!”

“I’m bringing back Wilbur.”

---

- Back at his summer home, Foolish speaks with Bad, telling him that while he was at first neutral about the Egg, he’s starting to hate it.

- Bad arrives at the Temple. Foolish tells him that he feels a bit bad for Bad, he used to be good! And deep down, Foolish thinks Bad needs to be freed.

- Bad replies that even so far out here, Foolish is still vulnerable. 

- Foolish tells Bad to leave. Bad does so.

Afterwards, he thinks to himself.

“This is a spit in the face of everything that this summer home stands for...This Temple of the Undying? It’s life, happiness, not whatever this is. Absolutely not. You know, I haven’t spilled any blood, I’m a peaceful man, I don’t like death. I don’t like death at all.” 

(He shows his stats -- “Players killed: 0″) 

“And I’m going to do my best to keep it that way.”

- He says he’ll do his best to resolve things peacefully, but when it comes down to it, he may have to kill for the greater good. Doing things peacefully might lead to his downfall. Is he being naive, thinking that things can be resolved without violence?

“Thinking that this could be fixed peacefully -- maybe that’s my problem, maybe that’s why I’m still searching for answers, ‘cause I think peaceful -- the peaceful approach is the right way -- maybe it’s not! Maybe it’s not...”

“But I’m still gonna maintain the hope that it is.”

---

It’s time for Tales From the SMP: “The Haunted Mansion!”

This episode takes place a bit into the future.

---

The Cast:

- Connor plays Connor

- Karl plays Karl

- Sapnap plays Rash

-  Dream plays Francis

- Punz plays Joey

- George plays Greg

- Tubbo and Ranboo play the twins, Ash (Tubbo) and Zachary (Ranboo)

- Techno plays Porkums, who has a very silly hat

- Bad plays Gump

---

- Karl meets Connor, who introduces Karl to his friends. They’ve rented an AirBNB at the mansion.

- Connor introduces Karl to everyone. Ash and Zachary have lots of milk.

- Karl has them sit in a circle to play Duck-Duck-Goose 

- Somebody’s at the door...Schlatt?

- Connor introduces him. He’s been completely dead for a couple months. According to Schlatt, he spent some time reflecting on his time as President and decided to become a landlord and rent out some places for AirBNBs. 

- Schlatt shows them the million-dollars-a-night property.

- Connor questions the logic of Schlatt having this massive property in a server whose economy has been characterized by numerous governments collapsing. Schlatt explains they invested in cryptocurrency.

- Schlatt shows them My Castle and tells Connor to press his very special button. Nothing happens, so Schlatt fishes him out of view and Connor disappears.

- Schlatt explains that he built this castle as a fun game! There are three beacons, and they all need items to be activated. If they find all the nether stars, they can see Schlatt’s lair, where Connor is trapped!

- Everyone wonders what if they don’t really want Connor that much? Could they have something else, like Haribos?

- They go down the first hall of trials. Schlatt leaves them.

- They retrieve the Nether Star and debate who should be the one to put it in. Porkums is selected. Schlatt fishes him behind a wall and disappears him and his silly hat.

- They go through the next trials as Schlatt plays Trance Music for Racing Game.

- They get the second Nether Star and return to pick the next person. Karl brings up how he was on Schlatt’s side the whole time in Manberg, and Schlatt talks about how he’s changed since then and become a landlord.

- Francis puts the next star in and gets teleported to the lair.

- Glatt tries to take Ash as well so that he can teach him about real estate but accidentally gets the wrong twin and sends Zachary down instead.

- They go through the last hall, the red one, and retrieve the Nether Star. Greg puts it in.

- They pull a lever and a pathway appears leading down into the basement. They find everyone down there chilling in a pool. Connor greets them.

- Schlatt and Connor used to run a business together on another server...

(SMPLive canon?)

- Karl goes to the Inbetween and starts reading.

“Welcome back :]”

- He reads some more and finds a Nether Portal with a book labelled “STOP” warning him to not stray from the path.

- The Inbetween is a hot destination for time travelers to return to! :]

- He finds another book:

“GO UNDER THE TREE. YOU CAN’T AFFORD NOT TO.”

“THANK GOD YOU FOUND IT. IT CAN’T SEE YOU DOWN HERE.”

- Another book, again in all-caps, tells him that the castle isn’t what it seems, and he doesn’t want to learn the truth about those other forms of him. He needs to find a way to the portal.

- A line of books tells him to stick to the path.

:] writes another book telling him that the Inbetween is gorgeous! What more is there to ask for?

“It’s a time traveller’s dream.”

- Karl will return to his library. The stories need to be preserved.

“The SMP needs you, and you need me. We make a good team! See you soon! :]”

---

[juniorgman187]

Never Enough (Spencer Reid Drabble)

Summary: Ever wondered what Garcia wrote on that sticky note in the series finale? Read here to find out. When Reader, the new technical analyst, feels out of place at a party, Penelope’s sticky note and Reid’s kind words do just the trick.

A/N: This is a comfort piece for me, someone very introverted who never seems to do well in social gatherings. So this is dedicated to anyone who’s ever felt like they didn’t belong. You are loved. Couple: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Category: Fluff, Drabble Content Warning: Fear of exclusion, loneliness Word Count: 2.4k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

All my life, all I’d ever wanted was to be a social butterfly. Their lives seemed so easy. People would naturally flock to them, what with their charisma, their confidence, their natural gift of being conversational.

I envied them for the sole reason that I was nothing like them, not in the slightest.

It wasn’t easy for me to keep a conversation going, even if I was trying my very hardest, which was often the case. I could never seem to commandeer the room in the way that someone extroverted could, and it was especially hard sometimes to feel a part of everyone.

It would be too easy to say I was invisible. Instead, I felt painfully visible, and entirely ignored.

Everyone could see my shyness peeking through, everyone could see how alienated I’d become, everyone could see my despondence, and yet no one bothered to change it.

No one cared.

My excruciating awkwardness had reached an all-time high at Krystall’s birthday party.

Agent Rossi was so keen on inviting me, and I was honored to go since it’d be my first bonding experience with the team outside of work. I couldn’t turn down the opportunity to grow closer to them, otherwise, I’d run the risk of isolating myself even more. As if being brought in as the BAU’s new technical analyst to replace Penelope Garcia wasn’t enough of a reason for them to doubt, despise, and disrespect me, I was the introvert who had a hard time making friends - unlike my predecessor, who’ve I heard could make friends like nobody’s business. I knew I could never fill her shoes, much less fill the glaring void she created when she left, but still, I maintained my bright-eyes in hopes that I’d be enough for them, anyway. I was all too eager to get to know everyone as more than just my coworkers, with one exception.

Dr. Reid maintained an arm’s length distance from me at all times, and at first, I understood. I even empathized with him.

Besides SSA Morgan and SSA Hotchner, the only other person that he’d work the longest with was Penelope, and now she was gone, too, but the longer his rejection of me lasted, the more I was curious what he truly had against me, and the more I was less interested in changing that. Why would I work tirelessly at mending this broken friendship, if he wasn’t willing to meet me halfway?

I was more shocked that he, of all people, would be the most displeased with my arrival. When Agent Rossi replaced Agent Gideon, from what I heard, the transition wasn’t as rocky as mine. Dr. Reid was overjoyed to be working with him and to discuss all his books. When Jordan Todd, and eventually Ashley Seaver, took Agent Jareau’s place momentarily, he was happy to be working with them. When Alex Blake and Kate Callahan came in after Emily Prentiss, he welcomed them with open arms. So what was it about me that was so abhorrent to him?

I never outright asked, mainly because I feared confrontation and I also had no way of knowing if my curiosity would make the situation worse or better. But I should’ve. I should’ve marched right up to him and asked, “What’s your problem?”

Somehow, though, I finally got up the courage to do so tonight.

I watched as the team laughed at one of Rossi’s anecdotes, meanwhile, the inside jokes flew over my head, hindering that bonding experience I was so sure I’d get by coming here. So I stepped inside the house, wandering into a spare room, knowing I wouldn’t be missed.

I thought I’d only be there for a moment to get some “fresh air” even though I’d actually migrated from the outside to the inside, where there’d arguably be less fresh air, but that’d be my excuse if anyone came in. But I was forced to stay longer in the office when it finally happened.

I finally reached my breaking point.

It was building up all night. It started when I first stepped into the house. My confidence faltered almost immediately when I accidentally stepped on Rossi’s Italian leather dress shoe as I went to greet him. He told me not to worry, but of course, I did just the opposite. It was a minor bump in the road, something so minute, but still, it weighed on me thinking about how embarrassing it was that I dirtied something of his that everyone recognized as valuable.

My shame didn’t stop there. As I was talking with Krystall, there were many periods of awkward silence that I couldn’t manage to fill with words, so we each sipped at our wine until one of us would try to pick up the conversation. What’s worse was that we each knew the silence was suffocating, and I could tell we were both thinking of things to say to keep the conversation going, and yet, nothing worth saying came to mind.

And worst of all was when Penelope Garcia finally arrived at the party. Don’t misunderstand me - it wasn’t the worst part of all because she was bad - no, she was lovely. She gave me a welcome present - a Beanie Baby to put on my desk, evocative of her own style of decor, and I loved her for it, which made me hate her all the more.

Rossi’s house livened up when she came. Everyone flocked to greet her, laughter erupted and ricocheted off Rossi’s high ceilings. They were positively elated by her presence, truly happy. Which was the first time I’d ever seen them that way because frankly, they were never that happy with me.

It was a painful reminder that I could never bring what she brought to the team, and I could never be as good as her. And the general consensus I reached, sitting in Rossi’s office all alone with my glass of wine, was the same one I’d known for years now - I’m not enough.

And I will never be enough.

I hadn’t realized I was crying until a tear cascaded down my cheek, dripping right under my nose, forcing me to audibly sniffle it away. Using the sleeve of my cardigan, I desperately tried to wipe away the tears faster than they were spilling out, but it just wasn’t possible. In fact, the coarse fabric of my cardigan rubbing against my cheeks only made them redder, making the fact that I was unwell that much more obvious.

The sound of the doorknob turning sent me into overdrive, automatically engaging me into turning around and facing the wall so that whoever was coming in wouldn’t find me in the state that I was in. I sniffled a great big sniffle and fanned my face to dry it of any moisture that my silent sobs could’ve left.

“Sorry, Rossi, I was just getting some fresh air and I thought I’d check out your book collectio-”

When I turned around, Rossi wasn’t standing there as I’d assumed.

In fact, the person standing there was the last person I thought it’d be.

“Dr. Reid?”

He was lingering in the doorway, studying my face, to which I instantly preventing from continuing on any further by cowering my head and looking away.

“What are you doing here?” My voice had taken a tone of anger that I didn’t anticipate to be there originally.

“Are you okay?”

To my surprise, his question seemed sincere, but I couldn’t truly believe it was.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just allergies from being outside for so long. The pollen and stuff, you know?” I rambled nervously.

“Oh, really? Are you allergic to the grass?” He asked in a joking manner, knowing I was lying but still asking so that he’d have the satisfaction of getting to see me try and work my way out of the situation.

“Yes, I am actually. The most common outdoor allergy triggers are trees, grass, weed pollen, mold spores, dust mites, cockroaches, and cat, dog, and rodent dander. Don’t you know this? After all, you’re the one with the IQ of 187 here, not me.” I tried to joke to lighten up the room’s heaviness, but clearly, it didn’t work.

By this time, I’d already turned back to face the wall, so Reid surely couldn’t see me, but I heard the door click shut behind me, and a wave of anxiety permeated my soul.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?”

I scoffed at his question, almost hitting him back with an “As if you care.” But I decided against it in an effort to preserve what little repose we had left between us.

“Will you please tell me what’s wrong?” He sounded like he was begging - like he was practically willing to go on his hands and knees to get me to answer, but all I could focus on was the feeling of his hot breath ghosting over my neck.

Goosebumps rose on my skins once he put his warm hand on my cold shoulder, which was bare from the absence of my cardigan and where it had slipped down to my elbow.

I flinched at the sensation, causing him to recoil.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” He quickly apologized, regret filling his eyes. “Um, you look nice by the way. I like the way you did your hair. A-and your dress. It looks nice.”

Not even giving a chance to respond to his compliment, I asked again, “Why are you here?” Pressing him to get the point faster before I had a chance to react at another one of his physical advances.

“I saw you leave the backyard and I thought I should check on you.”

“Well, you’ve checked on me, so you can go back now.” I didn’t miss a beat when responding, fooling him into thinking that I didn’t catch his words and their intentions.

“I just want to talk.” He replied, finally answering my question from before.

“Okay. Let’s talk.”

He took a seat on a chaise lounge sofa while I stayed standing by the bookcase in preparation for a quick escape if need be.

“I’m sorry I’ve been pushing you away. That wasn’t fair of me.”

Although I hadn’t expected him to apologize, I wasn’t going to be misled and naively accept his apology with no reservations.

“Why did you do it? And for so long?”

“I was angry. I didn’t want another person in my life that I cared about to walk away, so I thought maybe if I made you feel unwelcome, you wouldn’t want to stay. And she’d come back.”

It hurt to say, but at least I knew he was being honest.

“I accept your apology, but it’s not okay.”

“I know that.”

“Okay, are we good now? We’ve talked, so,” My hand gestured toward the door, suggesting he should leave, but he didn’t comply.

“I’m not leaving.”

“And why not?” The wine glass in my hand nearly shattered at the way my hand wrapped around it since its presence hindered me from being able to actually clench my fists.

“I didn’t come here to apologize, even though I should’ve sooner. But I came here because I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Like you care.” I chuckled mirthlessly.

“I do care.”

I gave in, not wanting to fight him any longer, otherwise, I might cry some more from the altercation.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” He shook his head. “I know you’re not fine. What’s really wrong, Y/N?”

I looked away immediately from his gaze, trying to hide the sheen that was inevitably coating my eyes from the presence of tears, but he would’ve known I was crying the minute I used the cuff of my cardigan to wipe under my nose again.

“I just . . . I feel so unconnected,” I whispered, the pain of my words stealing my volume. “I don’t fit in. And I’ve never fit in before, but I actually thought this might be my chance.”

“It still is. Just come back outside.”

“You don’t get it!”

“What don’t I get?”

“I just needed to take a moment to compose myself so I wouldn’t ruin the energy of the room. And I’d really like to do that alone, okay?”

“I know you don’t want me to go.”

“What?”

“You’re testing me to see if I’ll stay.”

“No, I’m not.”

“So you’re saying that if I left right now, you wouldn’t regret letting me walk away?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“I know you’re lying to me.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Yes, you are. I know what it looks like when you lie. Wanna know how I know?”

I entertained his question out of pure frustration “How?”

“Because I pay attention to you. I see your mannerisms. I notice everything. Do you think I haven’t picked up on how you crack your knuckles when you’re nervous? Or how your stutter goes away when you talk about technology? Or how your fists clench, like how you’re doing right now?”

My eyes flickered to my fist that was wrapped so tightly around the glass, my knuckles were white. Out of shame, I loosened my grip.

“I pay attention because I care. And I’m sorry that I made you ever believe that I didn’t. What you do, and say, and think - it’s important. So no, I’m not leaving. I’m staying right here to give you the attention you deserve.” He sighed with a breath of relief. “I care more about you than whatever’s happening out there.”

And slowly, then all at once, that barrier between us broke down.

“I care about you. We all do. And when you’re ready, we can walk back out there together so that you can see for yourself just how much we care.”

. . . That night, I made nine more friends.

And the day we came back to work, with my Beanie Baby in hand, I rearranged my desk.

A folded up sticky note fell out from between two tables. I picked it up, recognizing the handwriting instantly.

Penelope Garcia.

Even when the laughter always seems to come from the other room and the world seems busy as it carries on without you, may you know this to be true. No matter who or what made you feel invisible, unworthy, unloved, or unseen, in this ever-moving world, there is still a place for you. And you are exactly in the place where you are meant to be.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

quote by morgan harper nichols

[saphirered]

Hi! I saw that you were in the mood for writing, and I had a request! It's kind of vague I'm sorry, but would you mind writing a caleb ×(human cleric) reader where the reader tries to help caleb through his emotional pain instead of physical pain like a regular cleric would, and it just is super sad and sweet and ends with a kiss? Thank you sm!!

I hope this one’s to your liking! Thank you for requesting. 

You’re wandering around the tower not nearly sleepy enough to actually get some decent rest. What could you say, you are a bit of a night owl and you’re still processing the battle earlier today while wandering around. Going floor to floor, common room to common room, talking to the cats and playing with them until you began feeling tired while the others retreated to their own rooms. You eventually recognised Frumpkin coming from one of the small doorway shoots and call him over. 

“Hey buddy. What are you up to?” You get a meow in response as he nudges against your leg so you kneel down and give him some pets. Before you know it you’re sitting on the floor playing with Frumpkin taking out the lace from around one of your sleeves to wiggle around as the cat happily jumps at it trying to catch it. You laugh until Frumpkin seems to get tired. 

“Are you getting sleepy? Maybe I should let get back to Caleb then?” You pet him and he meows once more practically jumping into your arms. 

“Okay I’ll take you back if that’s what you want.” You lift up the cat in your arms as he makes himself comfortable and go up to Caleb’s room. When you reach the right floor Frumpkin jumps from your arms when you see Caleb rubbing at his forehead eyes clenched shut letting out a slight hiss of discomfort. 

“Caleb? Are you alright?” Your voice spooks him as he jumps slightly and blinks quickly. 

“Ja. I’m fine.” You walk over to him and he looks a little pale, eyes once you actually see them are slightly bloodshot and sunken and forehead sweaty. 

“You don’t look fine. Let me help.” 

“I will be alright. I don’t think this is something you can fix.” He gives you a sad smile and goes to move on back into his room.

“Try me. If you don’t at least tell me I won’t be able to help and if you do and I can’t nothing changes. What do you have to lose?” You try to convince him. You’re worried. With a deep sigh he holds out his hand for you. You take it and he leads you into his room. It’s very barren, no stained glass windows like in yours and the furniture is very simplistic. 

“Should I cast a quick cure wounds?” You offer and he nods as he leads you over to the couch and sits you both down onto it facing each other. You cast the spell but not much seems to change. You frown and try casting it again but not much seems to change. 

“It’s not working?” Caleb asks more than states. It should work… Unless whatever ails him is not of physical nature. You can cure aches, numb pain and stitch wounds back together but only of the physical kind. Magic would not help here.

“No. Which is why I will repeat my question from before; are you alright?” You look at him with worry and he seems hesitant. 

“I-uh… no. I’m not alright.” It takes him a good while to speak the words. “It’s stupid. I should just go to sleep. I’ll be fine in the morning.” He’s about to get up but you stop him.

“Caleb, you’re hurting. It’s not stupid. It’s okay to not be alright as longs you don’t bottle it up. That pain won’t go away until you face it and deal with it appropriately.” 

“You make it sound so easy.” He gives you a sad smile. 

“It’s not. I’m going to ask you to do a very difficult thing, what might be one of the most difficult things you’ve ever done. Face whatever you’re pushing away. Don’t let it consume you. Face it. And if you feel comfortable talking about it I am here for you. If you prefer to not speak it out loud I will still be here for you but please do not drown in a pool of your own pain.” You practically beg him and you can see him struggle even though he does not meet your eye. 

“I can’t help but take responsibility for this intertwinement with the Assembly. The risk you are all at, your families, your friends. I shouldn’t have been so naive as to believe I would be truly free of them and because of that everyone is now trapped in this web. I’m afraid I… I’m afraid. Scared because I do not want this to fall apart. I’ve already lost one family at my own hands. I can’t- I really can’t lose another.” The cracks become more apparent and eventually Caleb breaks burying his head in his hands taking deep breaths. You sit closer to him and rub his back before wrapping an arm around him. He puts his head on your shoulder, rubbing at his face. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry for dragging you into this. This shouldn’t be your burden to bear.” Caleb wraps his arms around you biting back tears. You hated seeing him like this. Not because you didn’t want to, because him opening up to you like this and putting his trust in you when he felt most vulnerable is a blessing and an honour but you cannot help but feel hatred and anger towards those who put such a bright and good individual on such a path and break him down. 

“It’s not yours to bear either. It should never have been your burden to bear.” You lean your head against the top of his softly brushing your fingers through his hair. 

“You told someone once; you’re not born with venom in your veins. And it seems to me that you believe that but you also believe there is still venom in your own veins. Lucky you because I happen to know how to make antidotes. You’re a good man with a good heart, Caleb. The good ones are most often also the ones to take the blame for things out of their control because ‘what if’s. You can’t change the past and you can’t right what you never wronged in the first place. But you can work towards a better future and that is exactly what you have been doing, what you are doing.” He grabs your free hand between both of his and kisses it.

“You’re too kindhearted and forgiving for your own good sometimes.” He whispers. 

“Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not. Or maybe you’re just trying to find any sense or hint that I might be wrong or lying because that’s easier to accept. It’s what you’re prone to do; blame yourself for things you have no control over. So I will make you a promise. Every time you struggle, have a hard time, doubt yourself, need comfort or a shoulder to cry on, I will promise you I won’t ever tell you what you need to hear. I will instead tell you the truth. You may not always like it or agree with it but it is the truth and I will help you see it if that’s what it takes.” Another kiss is placed on your palm. 

“You have no idea how much I love you. And I have no idea what I have done to deserve such a loving and kind and good person in my life but I know my world is brighter for it.” 

“You best not forget. As for what you’ve done, nothing. You didn’t need to do anything but be yourself because I love you for you. Now, will you hold me to my promise or Erathis preserve me, do I need to kick your ass for it to sink in?” Caleb musters a smile, a genuine one. 

“I promise I will hold you to it. And I promise to make use of it. Changing times.” He looks at you and from his expression you can read he’s truthful. That’s all the confirmation you need. 

“So will you try to stop blaming yourself for things you have no control over?” You ask with a raised eyebrow not entirely serious as this is not a something to be resolved so quickly or easily. Instead of a reply he gives you a deep long kiss. When you pull apart you poke at his chest.

“That’s not an answer Widogast.” You tease, his mood seemingly lightening.

“Small steps.” He smiles placing his lips on yours once more to spend the rest of the night in each other’s comfort and embrace. Small steps but steps nonetheless. That’s all you could ask for. 

[dameronology]

aftermath {natasha romanoff x reader}

summary: when the snap happened, everyone’s minds immediately went to the person they loved the most. natasha romanoff’s went to you. (for @writefightandflightclub​!! i hope you enjoy❤️)

warnings: set during the snap, so all the canon angst of that + swearing 

- jamie

Natasha Romanoff had a long to-do list.

Declaring her love for you was certainly on there. 

It’s just - as life often went - she got busy. You got busy. There were missions that took you to opposite ends of the globe and meetings that pulled you apart at all hours of the day. There was something between you - something strong and pure, something sweet against that contrasted against the dark world you’d both come to discover - but Natasha couldn’t quite work out what. She’d never felt the need to. It didn’t have to be explained. Unlike everything else in her life, it wasn’t complicated. You were consistent. You someone she could count on. A constant and steady presence among a world that never seemed to slow down. 

It was stolen kisses as you brushed past one another in the corridor. It was slow mornings under the covers of the dark before you had to drag one another out of bed to face the day. It was knowing in your very souls that you had one another; knowing that no matter where or when, you could turn to each other for anything. You never rushed her into anything, or asked her too much of her - that was something she was particularly thankful for. She couldn’t work out if she was just lucky, or if she’d been a saint in a past life to deserve you.

But, in the same way that life had plenty of highs, it came with lows. It could pack a punch and whilst you both prided yourself on your ability to get back up, some hits kept you down. 

The snap had been a flashpoint moment for everyone who survived it. You could have asked anyone and every person would remember where they were, who they were with and what they were thinking. No matter how many years passed, they would remember. The loss, the pain, the panic. The not knowing if their loved ones were alive. 

Natasha had been in Wakanda. You had been in the States. The last few days had worn you both down to your very cores and you’d barely had a chance to speak. The only thing that had kept her going was the occasional sound of your voice over the comms - reminding her that you’d see each other in a few days, that everything would be okay and that you could go home. Maybe you believed your own words. Maybe you didn’t. Either way, feeding yourself false hope was the only way you could have possibly pulled through to the final battle. 

Vision. T’Challa. Strange. Bucky. Sam. 

All gone. One by one. Bit by bit. Ceasing to exist in a matter of seconds. 

Natasha had realised what was happening - and her heart dropped. It fucking plummeted. You were the first place her mind went. She hadn’t heard anything from your comms line in a while - but you’d been busy fighting, busy holding up the other end of the fight across the ocean. You were okay. Of course you were. 

You had to be. 

She slowly - and almost dubiously - raised her hand to her ear piece, pressing the receive button. There was a crackling sound, but no voice. Why hadn’t you said anything? Maybe you were still busy in battle, or you were on your knees mourning for your friends in the same way people around her were. Her brain spat out a million different possibilities at once but not one of them seemed to cover the worst possible scenario. 

You’d been lost in the snap. 

Natasha knew that it was the most likely outcome. Fifty percent of all living things - she didn’t like those odds, especially not given her track history. Whenever she felt like she finally had something good and pure, it got ripped away from her. It had happened a thousand times before and she’d been insane to think it wouldn’t have happened again. This time, she’d really let herself be aloof; she’d let herself be naive enough to think that you were a permanent fixture in her life. 

The realise that she was in love with you hit Natasha Romanoff like a ton of bricks; like a freight train to a strewn car. It was the most obvious thing in the world but still, the biggest shock her system had ever experienced. She’d always wondered what love felt like, what it was - and it had been right in front of her the whole time. 

The journey back to the Compound was only a few hours, but it felt like lifetimes. There was so much hanging in the balance and Natasha almost didn’t want to land. It would mean knowing for sure that you were gone, that Tony was gone, that so many of the people she’d come to care for were gone. It was like a mutated, screwed up version of Schrodinger’s Cat. There was still the possibility that you were alive and kicking but the Black Widow was nothing if not a realist. She knew how these things usually went. 

Steve nor Bruce said a word the entire way back. Even Thor was uncharacteristically silent, tucked away in the corner of the quint-jet with his knees pulled to his chest and a solemn look on his tired face. The life had been pulled from all of you over the last few days, and even the demigod’s humanity was starting to peep through. They were all spent. Mentally, emotionally, physically. 

‘Look after yourselves.’ Steve’s instructions were a little half-hearted as the four of them traipsed of the ramp of the jet. Even in the darkest of times, he was still trying to be the leader. 

‘Don’t forget to do the same.’ Natasha spoke for the first time in what felt like hours. ‘You look like hell.’

‘Feel it too.’ He murmured in response. 

Natasha was working on autopilot, letting her legs simply drag her from the jet and towards the living quarters. She usually went to your room after long and tiring missions - the way you greeted her with a warm hug and encouraging words never seemed to get old. You were always the first thing her mind went to when she thought of coming home. You were her home. 

Your room had always felt a thousand times more comfortable than hers. It was a mess of clutter and pillows and discarded clothes but it was welcoming, and filled with tiny reminders of you. There was a strewn book on the bed, alongside your reading glasses. The walls were filled with photos of you and the team; there was one of the time that Thor had dragged you all to Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park. Steve was grinning, Tony had ice cream on his nose and you and Nat were in one another’s arms. There was a Polaroid from your brief trip to the Bahamas, when Sam had sunscreen on his nose and Bucky was scowling under the bright sun. Most of the photos, however, were just random ones of you and Nat. 

She was grateful to have those photos. They were something to hold onto, something to remember you by in case you didn’t-

‘- where the fuck have you been?!’

The cry of someone’s voice pulled Natasha from her thoughts and less than a moment later, your body collided with hers. You hit her with a thump, arms instantly wrapping around her waist to cling onto her. 

It took her a minute to react; to realise that you were real. You were alive. You’d survived the snap and you were here, clinging onto her for dear life and practically crying into her shoulder. Natasha had forgotten for a moment that she’d been radio silent too, working on the assumption that you were gone. Grief went both ways - of course you’d felt it for her. 

Her arms came to hold you back, tightly clinging onto your shoulders. Your bodies were tangled together, skin to skin and nose to nose, the smell of your perfume and shampoo immediately bringing her to reality. You’d survived. For once, she’d assumed the worst and was wrong. 

‘My comms went down when it happened and I tried to call you, and Bruce, and Steve-’

‘- I love you.’ 

You pulled back from Nat, an o-shape on your lips as you stared at her with wide eyes. It was as though she’d knocked the air from your lungs and stolen your ability to speak, or to function as a human being. That was the Black Widow’s speciality, after all. 

‘You love me?’ You repeated it back to her. 

‘You were the first person I thought of when...when it happened.’ She still couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge what had happened earlier that day. ‘I feel like I’ve always known it but I thought we had time, that I could wait to tell you-’

‘- I love you too.’ 

‘You do?’

‘Nat.’ You squeezed her arms, giving her a tearful smile despite everything. ‘You’re all I can think about on a good day. The world was literally crumbling around us and I couldn’t think of another person.’

She gave you a knowing nod - you had both lost a lot of the last few days. Near enough everything, in fact. Most of the world had barely even begun to process what happened, or even thought about accepting it. You were on that page too. Everything had changed and the world was never going to be the same again. It was though someone had taken the idea that nuclear war was the worst possible outcome and they’d laughed. 

‘I don’t even know where to begin.’ Nat murmured, hand ghosting your cheekbone. ‘Everything is....’

‘...gone?’ You offered. 

‘Gone.’

The euphoria that came with her declaration was only fleeting. It was the relief you needed after days of battling but it didn’t change anything that had happened. Still, at least you had her by your side.

‘Whatever the next few days - or months or years - bring, you have to promise me one thing.’ Natasha took your hands in hers, gently intertwining your fingers.

‘Anything.’

‘We’ll do it together.’ 

You nodded. ‘Together.’

She finally closed the gap between you, softly brushing her lips against yours. You’d kissed many times before but this held something different; love, panic, desperation. It was a testament to the last few days - the feeling of losing someone and regaining them all without truly ever realising. It made you cling onto her a little tighter, savouring the taste and feel of her a little more. 

You didn’t even know where to begin - there was no doubt that the mantle of protecting the Earth still lay in the laps of the Avengers. That would come once people had accepted what had happened and frankly, you weren’t even there yet. Your brain was still processing seeing Thanos in person, let alone the rest of the what kind of fuckery is this that had followed.

But in that moment, Natasha was the only thing on your mind. She was in one piece, and so you were you. Neither of you had any idea what was to come, but there was one thing you were certain of.

You had Nat and she had you. Nothing else mattered.

[lady-of-the-lotus]

“Had I had eyes, what do you think would have happened when I found you in that ditch?”

“Probably killed me.”

“I would not have killed you.”

Xue Yang laughs, a short harsh bark that's nothing like his usual manic giggle. “Why should I believe you?”

XueXiao - E - AO3! - Tumblr Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Chapter 3 - Blood

They travel for three days before they hit another village.

Villages and farms, they pass, but nothing with an inn.

“They’d take us in if we only asked,” Xiao Xingchen says as they pass the village. It’s nightfall, and foggy and almost chilly. Cheerful yellow lights shine through the fog, and he hears voices and the clatter of cookery.

“I’d rather not.”

“Is this one of the villages I wiped out?”

Xue Yang tightens his grip on Jiangzai. He’s had it out of his qiankun sleeve since leaving Yi City. “I knew you were going to throw that in my face. And no. Happy now?”

Xiao Xingchen looks at the lights. One flickers, goes out, is relit, and he imagines the person behind the candle.

A living, breathing person. Someone belonging to his world. Unlike—

He can’t face that person, he suddenly realizes. Can’t knock on the door, be offered a bed, when he knows the earth should be his bed, the soil his blanket.

Warm in the earth.

He banishes that thought, but it lingers.

Xue Yang smiles at him. It’s an oddly blank smile. “Another mile, so they can’t see our fire, and I’ll make camp.” And he turns and continues walking without waiting for Xiao Xingchen to agree.

He’s been in an odd mood ever since they left the Coffin House, Xiao Xingchen thinks as Xue Yang makes camp. He doesn’t know how to handle a sullen Xue Yang. Or any part of this post-resurrection version of Xue Yang.

Chengmei had never argued with Xiao Xingchen, never offered anything more than teasing chaff. Had that all been an act to win his trust? How much of Chengmei had been real, how much a ruse? Chengmei had been unflaggingly cheerful and helpful, talking almost non-stop, doing everything he could to amuse Xingchen and A-Qing.

And he had known Xue Yang before he’d known Chengmei. Not well, but he’d interacted with him during their game of cat and mouse that ended at the Chang Manor, and this new Xue Yang is darker than that old Xue Yang, moodier, his smile less bright.

Or perhaps Xiao Xingchen can now see through his smile.

He half welcomes it in, a strange way. Xue Yang is treating him how he'd treat anyone else, without any special reverence or politeness or worship, and much as he'd prefer a cheerful Xue Yang, it feels almost good.

“I’m afraid I’m not much help,” Xiao Xingchen says as they warm themselves at the fire. Despite sitting much closer than Xue Yang is, he can still only half feel it.

Xue Yang gazes at him intently through the flames. “So you really did just get welcomed into people’s homes? I never tried that when I was—” He stops. “You could have killed them in their sleep.”

“Why would I do that?”

“I’m just saying they had no way of knowing. I guess you and that meathead priest just looked so honorable and decent they had no choice but to give you their beds.”

Xiao Xingchen rubs his hands together and breaks eye contact. Best not to respond. He’s tired, anyway, worn out from walking all day, the most he’s exerted himself since waking.

But Xue Yang won’t let the subject drop. “I thought you were joking the other night. Have you really never made camp?”

“Not never. I’m just not very good at it. After I lost my eyes, I—”

“Not lost. He took them.” Xue Yang’s eyes blaze as brightly as the fire, compelling Xiao Xingchen to look at them again. “And she let him.”

This Xingchen can’t let slide. “Don’t speak about my master like that.”

“Because you know I’m right? She should have stopped it all. If she really cared about you, she wouldn’t have let it happen. It’s all her fault—” Xue Yang's white face flushes pink, and Xiao Xingchen reaches around the fire to lay a warning hand on his bracer.

“Don’t touch me!” Xue Yang snatches his arm away. “Why the fuck did you something so stupid?”

“You were agitated—”

Xue Yang is on his feet. “I meant the eyes, you fucking idiot! You self-righteous naive fuck—” He kicks at the fire, sending a log into a tree in a shower of sparks. “This is all their fault—”

“ ‘This’?”

“Everything!”

“Had I had eyes, what do you think would have happened when I found you in that ditch?”

“Probably killed me.”

“I would not have killed you.”

Xue Yang laughs, a short harsh bark that's nothing like his usual manic giggle. “Why should I believe you?”

“Because you know me.”

“You saved Chengmei.”

“I saved someone in need.”

“None of it was real. You thought I was someone else!”

“I thought it was someone in need.” Xingchen eyes him evenly. “And I was right.”

Xue Yang’s fists are clenched. “You know what?” he snaps. “Fuck you!”

He storms off into the trees.

Xiao Xingchen turns back to the fire. He’s not sure if he’s pleased at having riled Xue Yang or upset at his reaction.

This is his way of caring—he’s genuinely upset I lost my eyes—

And then, halfheartedly: I shouldn’t care what he thinks.

But pity outweighs disgust, and he’s half numb again, anyway, his mental malaise deadening all confusion.

His fingers are stiff and clumsy the next morning. Xue Yang notices him dropping the razor he uses to shave, but doesn’t say anything, or offer to give him blood.

Or the next day, or the day after that.

In fact, he barely talks at all.

Xiao Xingchen isn’t sure what to do with the silence.

“Where are we going, anyway?” Xue Yang asks finally, the first real thing he’s said all day. They’re night-hunting, or at least trying to. Shuanghua feels strangely unresponsive in his hand. He’s not sure if it’s constantly sensing him as a fierce corpse, blanking out all external demons and ghosts, or if he has lost the right to wield it properly.

"Where are we going?” Xue Yang repeats. “Off to save the world?”

“Something like that.”

“Like you did such a great job the first time.”

Xiao Xingchen stiffens.

Xue Yang smirks, wearing a nastier grin than Xingchen remembers him having ever worn before. “What?” he sneers. “Don’t like hearing the truth?”

“I accomplished more in a single year than you did your entire life,” Xiao Xingchen says quietly.

Xue Yang laughs. Unlike his usual laugh, it’s not a pleasant sound. “You’re right. Slaughtering all those peasants certainly was an accomplishment, all right.”

A stab of anger, but it’s distant, that old malaise having him fully in its grip, and he doesn’t rise to the bait. Too long without blood or yang, but Xue Yang hasn’t offered, and Xiao Xingchen refuses to ask.

“You know what I mean,” he says instead.

Xue Yang looks disappointed at the lack of ire in his voice. “And what does saving the world entail, exactly?”

“Helping people who need it.”

“That’s it?”

“Not murdering people. Doing good where you can. If you truly meant what you said about regretting the things you’ve done, that’s still not enough. You have to perform positive actions as well, not just regret your negative ones. Like what we’re doing now—night-hunting, protecting people.”

Xue Yang doesn’t seem to hear anything after Not murdering people. “Like you’ve never killed anyone? Song Lan was ready to kill me at Chang Manor, no trial, no nothing.”

“And I saved your life, ensured you a trial."

"A trial you knew would end in their gutting me like a pig and hanging my head on Jinlintai's gate as warning. Same as you probably still think I deserve."

"If you want to stop being treated like a monster, simply stop doing monstrous things," Xiao Xingchen says, still with no emotion in your voice. "Twice I saved your life.”

“And did your saving me make the world a better place?” Xue Yang’s voice is rising now. “You hate me. You think the world is worse because I’m alive. How do you know all those people you saved didn’t make the world worse too?”

“I never said I hate you.”

Xue Yang throws his hands up dramatically. Xiao Xingchen thinks he might be doing it intentionally, turning the conversation into something out of a story, a play, something less real, something not involving them as two real people but as two fictional characters.

“ ‘I never said I hate you’!” he mimics, doing a credible imitation of Xingchen’s voice. He was always good at doing the voices for the stories he used to tell nightly. “I suppose you stab people you like, then? You stabbed Song Lan out of affection?”

Xiao Xingchen is about to respond, despite the futility of trying to argue with Xue Yang, but instead he trips over what seems to be nothing, sprawling forward in the dirt as if the earth has reached up to drag him down, claim him, Shuanghua falling from his nerveless fingers.

Xue Yang watches him struggle to his feet, but doesn’t offer his help, and Xiao Xingchen doesn’t ask.

A queasy feeling creeps over him despite his numbness.

He can’t night-hunt. Can’t atone by protecting others.

Can barely stand up.

Useless. One more dead, useless thing.

They encounter a single ghost that night. Xue Yang dispatches it on his own, then turns to grin at Xingchen.

“Guess I’m ahead of you on the saving the world front,” he sneers.

Xingchen refuses to ask for help when he has trouble lying down to sleep that night, or the next morning, when it takes him fifteen minutes to get to his feet, or all that day as he stumbles down the road in an increasingly senseless haze.

They stop at an inn that night. Xue Yang makes all the arrangements while Xiao Xingchen, half-insensible, is propped up at a table.

A familiar huff and, “Do I have to carry you?." Something slipping under his arms, movement.

Something wet in his mouth, someone holding his head up. A finger on his tongue, the taste of copper.

“…most stubborn person I’ve ever met,” Xue Yang is saying as he dabs blood on Xingchen’s tongue. “You should have seen the looks the innkeeper gave me. Like I’d drugged and kidnapped you or something…but no, you couldn’t just ask me. You think I liked traveling around with you tripping over your own feet every two seconds goggling at me like a stunned fish?”

Xiao Xingchen opens his eyes. He’s lying cradled on his back in Xue Yang’s lap on a small bed in a small room. “Where are we?”

“Tanzhou. Here, drink.” He tightens his arm around Xiao Xingchen and holds his other arm up to his mouth. “Stubborn idiot.”

But there’s no venom in his voice. Seeing Xiao Xingchen so vulnerable seems to have induced another of his swift changes of mood. Xiao Xingchen drinks, feeling warmth flow back into his limbs as he greedily sucks at Xue Yang.

“Any better?” asks Xue Yang. He slides out from under Xiao Xingchen and off the bed. “I swear, you’re the most stubborn person I know.”

Xiao Xingchen flexes his fingers. “Do you know many people?”

Xue Yang grins suddenly. It’s his first sincere smile in days. “You have a point there. I’ll be back soon.”

Xiao Xingchen sits up as Xue Yang leaves. He feels stronger than he has in days, but the blood only seems to help nourish his body, not his mind.

He’s too numb to care much about that. He takes out his flute, sits cross-legged on the bed, and begins to play, taking advantage of the nimbleness in his fingers while he can.

He plays until Xue Yang returns. “Don’t stop on my account,” Xue Yang says, seating himself on the edge of the bed. He’s holding a tanghulu and a candle. He sets the candle on the rickety little table wedged beside the bed and starts taking his shoes off. “I mean, you could use more practice, but it’s not terrible.”

Hesitantly, Xiao Xingchen lifts the flute back to his lips. Too many good memories attached to the flute to want to sully them with Xue Yang’s presence. Being taught by Baoshan Sanren, playing for A-Qing and Chengmei—

But he’s still too numb to care much. Or to even enjoy playing, really. He does it anyway, mechanically fingering the holes and producing music without soul.

Xue Yang frowns, noticing, but again doesn’t say anything.

A flicker of thought: I’d rather him yell again.

But he doesn’t care enough to rile Xue Yang, and he’s not about to ask Xue Yang to give him yang or take his yin energy.

Let Xue Yang ask him.

But Xue Yang doesn’t speak, just sits there licking the tanghulu. Slides the whole thing in his mouth, sucking the long carrot-shaped candy with more noise than he absolutely has to, making sure it's audible over the gentle sound of the flute. Slides it out of his mouth, runs his tongue along the slick red length, flicks his tongue over the tip.

Xiao Xingchen feels something stir between his legs. Xue Yang must be doing this on purpose—

A banging on the door makes them both jump. “Shut up in there! It’s the middle of the night!”

Xue Yang opens the door. He’s grinning again, a grin full of sharp teeth.

“ ‘Middle of the night’?” he says to the man in the doorway. Burly, frowning, dressed in expensive-looking robes. “It’s barely nightfall.”

“People are trying to sleep! Shut your racket!”

“ ‘Racket’?” Without any seeming movement, Xue Yang’s knife is in his hand. He taps his chin with it, eyes bright. “Step inside, and we’ll discuss it.”

The man is pushing up his sleeves. “We’ll discuss it, all right—”

Xiao Xingchen gets off the bed and lays a hand on Xue Yang’s shoulder. Xue Yang is trembling with excitement beneath his palm, an alcoholic spotting wine. “Don’t.”

“Don’t discuss things like a rational human being?”

“Don’t kill him.”

“I’d like to see him try!” snaps the man. “Little punk upstart—”

Xue Yang starts forward with a little keening sound, but Xiao Xingchen snatches him back into the room and locks the door. “Remember what I said about not murdering people?”

Xue Yang appears to be almost aroused by the near-violence, nostrils flaring, cheeks pink. “The world would be better off without him! Look at him! We’d be doing everyone a favor!”

Xiao Xingchen gives him a little push towards the bed. “Just sit there quietly and finish sucking on your candy.”

He would wince had he not been so numb. Why had he chosen that word?

Xue Yang grins, pique gone. “I’d rather be sucking on something else, if I’m being honest.”

“A first, for you.”

Xue Yang laughs. “I love when you make jokes. Now come on, aren’t you going to offer me an incentive to stay here and not slit that man from dick to throat?”

Xiao Xingchen pinches his temples. He wants to, as badly as he can want anything in his current state—Xue Yang is licking that candy again, grinning at Xiao Xingchen, and Xingchen does want to push along his improved mood—reward good behavior—

He sits on the edge of the bed. “Fine.”

“ ‘Fine’?”

“You can do what you want.”

Xue Yang’s grin turns into a frown. “That’s all you’re going to say? And I’m not getting on my knees for you.”

Xiao Xingchen rises and undresses, taking off everything but his white inner robe. Despite everything, he’s still not comfortable being fully naked in front of Xue Yang, much as he hungers for his hands on his skin, craves sensation. Xue Yang just stands there, watching him undress, but doesn’t move, a smug look on his face.

“I’m not going to beg, if that’s what you’re implying,” Xingchen says, tilting his head.

Grinning again, Xue Yang takes off his clothes, stripping naked almost defiantly. “I can’t decide if I like you like this, or if it’s just annoying.”

Xiao Xingchen lies on the bed, bending his knees slightly. I truly don’t care what you think, he wants to say, but doesn’t want Xue Yang to pick up on the lie and rub his nose in it.

Xue Yang climbs into bed, kneeling between Xingchen’s legs.

“I thought you weren’t getting on your knees,” says Xiao Xingchen.

Xue Yang rolls his eyes. “I’m leaning towards ‘annoying.’ ”

Xingchen can’t hold in a smile. Xue Yang returns it. “First time you’ve smiled in days,” he says. “Just for that, I won’t make you ask for it.” He reaches down for Xiao Xingchen’s inner robe.

“So you’re just going to go for it?”

“What else do you want?”

It’s so…transactional, but Xiao Xingchen doesn’t know how to put that into words. It’s not like he wants to be seduced, but…

He changes the subject. “You want to take my yin energy?”

“It’s not like it’s poison,” says Xue Yang. Not quite the truth, given its tainted nature, but he seems to believe it in the moment. “Everyone has both. Well, not you, unless I give it to you, but—” He peels back Xiao Xingchen’s inner robe, and Xingchen would blush if he could feel shame. “What did you mean before? What else do you want?”

“Just do it.” Suddenly he wants nothing more than to feel the embarrassment he knows he should be feeling at the sight of Xue Yang pulling his cock out from inside his clothes, closing his mouth around it, licking it. Feel more than pleasure at how his tongue glides over the head. Feel the complicated jumble of emotions he knows should be churning through him, heightening everything, turning the act into more than a physical exchange.

He comes in Xue Yang’s mouth, and suddenly he’s very aware of the candlelight gleaming off his wet cock, of Xue Yang licking his lips and looking up at him, making full eye contact—

He winces and snuffs out the candle. Moonlight illuminates Xue Yang, but at least there’s some darkness to hide—hide whatever the hell this is—

“Feel any better?” Xue Yang whispers. He’s moved up beside Xiao Xingchen, nestled between him and the wall. “Want to yell at me now or something?”

Xiao Xingchen takes a deep breath and sits up. “You almost killed that man—”

“But I didn’t!”

“And you—you—” He squeezes his eyes shut. “You said some awful things to me.”

“You mean—that was days ago.”

“You said awful things,” Xiao Xingchen repeats. His heart is beating faster at the memory. “You said—you said—”

“And you to me. We’re even.”

“We’re…” Xiao Xingchen digs his knuckles in his eyes. “How could we possibly ever—”

“Shh. You’ll bring that oaf back, and I can’t make any promises about not gutting him like a pig.”

"What is it with you and pigs?" And suddenly Xiao Xingchen is laughing. He doesn’t know why. But he is. He hates himself for laughing, and he relishes the disgust, the thousand emotions coursing through him, good and bad.

He feels something against his leg, realizes it’s Xue Yang, making no attempt to hide his arousal.

“What about you?” Xingchen moves his leg slightly against Xue Yang.

“I’m fine.”

“I could use yang energy, not just getting rid of the tainted yin…”

Xue Yang’s voice is suddenly teasing. “Ask nicely.”

“Oh, stop that already!”

Xue Yang laughs, vibrating against Xiao Xingchen’s body. “I don’t know, maybe I do like you like this, daozhang. Feisty.” He slides a hand around Xiao Xingchen, tracing the muscles of his chest. “What do you want to do?”

Xiao Xingchen blushes. He’s not sure why it’s more embarrassing to be asked what he wants than to simply have things done to him without discussion, but it is. This is how it’s supposed to be, he knows. But he still can’t bring himself to speak.

He bites his lip as Xue Yang’s hand drifts lower. He’s still sensitive, and he grabs Xue Yang’s hand before it can reach his cock. Xue Yang pulls away and begins tracing circles on his stomach, fingers soft through the silk.

“What do normal people do?” Xingchen asks.

Xue Yang laughs. He’s nuzzling Xiao Xingchen’s throat, and Xingchen, after days of numbness, enjoys the little puff of warm air on his skin. “How should I know?”

“What have you…what have you done before? With other people?”

Xue Yang’s hand stops moving. “You wouldn’t want to hear about that.”

“Because you did something terrible?”

“Am I the only one in the world who’s capable of terrible things?”

Xingchen feels a pang of pity. He savors the pity, savors the irritation at himself for feeling pity, then savors the annoyance at his own irritation, because he should feel pity, should feel mercy. “Why don’t you try the things you wanted them to have done?”

“I don’t want to stop.” The way I wanted them to stop.

Xingchen feels a chill, then turns and kisses Xue Yang softly on the lips. “How about that?” he murmurs. “Those other times I did that, did you want me to stop? That time in the stream, I…” I have no framework to work in, he wants to say. You were my first and only. You had something I needed, and I didn't care about hurting you, after everything you'd done to me. I should have known better, never should have done something like that—

“I could have stopped you if I wanted," says Xue Yang.

“I still…I still shouldn’t have—”

"I liked it. Stop talking about it." Xue Yang kisses him back, long and deep, hands tangled in Xiao Xingchen’s hair. He moves to straddle Xiao Xingchen, laying his full weight on him, gently exploring his mouth.

“You can do more if you want,” Xingchen whispers.

“You’re really after my cum, aren’t you.”

“Don’t say it like that. And no. I just feel like…well, it should be reciprocal. I don’t like the idea of you losing yang, not that I like the idea of giving you tainted yin, either—”

“I brought you back, you’re my responsibility now. Like owning a chicken.”

Xiao Xingchen laughs. “A chicken?”

“A tame dove. That better?”

“A crane, I would think.”

“A crane,” Xue Yang corrects himself. Xiao Xingchen wants to say something about how he wouldn’t trust Xue Yang to take care of any living thing but then remembers how tender he was taking care of him. Besides, he doesn’t want to hurt Xue Yang, not right now.

Selfish, most probably. Most definitely.

This is Xue Yang.

I have to do this, he reminds himself. I have no choice. My dying now would help nobody...

A flimsy excuse, and he knows it.

But perhaps he can afford to be selfish.

Just for a few minutes.

He traces the sharp ridges of Xue Yang’s collarbones, distinct in the blue moonlight. The same face that was the last thing countless people had ever seen.

The last thing Song Lan had ever seen.

“I have some oil in my sleeve,” Xue Yang says.

“Of course you do... What do you want to do?"

“I’m already in you. My blood, I mean. But I’d rather you be in me…” Xue Yang stops. “Fully, I mean, not like just now…”

“I can, if you want, but not tonight. You already took enough yin.”

“Whatever you want.” Xue Yang is stroking the skin on Xiao Xingchen’s inner thigh, hesitantly. “Can I…”

“Yes.”

Xue Yang’s finger brushes Xiao Xingchen’s entrance. “That alright?”

“It…” It feels nice, Xiao Xingchen wants to say, but is suddenly bashful. They’d done this before, but somehow this time feels different.

But Xue Yang hesitates again, as if he too feels that something has changed.

“Here.” Xiao Xingchen rolls him over on his back, looking down at him in the moonlight. Xue Yang seems more comfortable looking up at him, relaxing under him. “Better? Here…” He grips Xue Yang’s cock gently, sliding it inside him. “That feel alright? I forgot the oil—”

Xue Yang takes a deep breath. “It’s fine. You’re already kind of slippery. Must be from me earlier.”

Xiao Xingchen thinks about that for a fraction of a second. He’s been taking a sponge bath every night, ridding himself of the soft, sweet-smelling film he keeps finding on his skin, finds clinging to his razor after shaving.

What if that odd film is inside him too?

Xue Yang rocks his hips slightly, making a little keening noise, and Xiao Xingchen forgets about the film. Slowly he begins to move. It’s easier to angle himself properly when he’s on top, and this way he can lean forward and plant kisses along Xue Yang’s jaw, his throat, his collarbone, the sigil on his chest.

Xue Yang grips his arms, craning his neck, exposing it to Xingchen’s lips. He nips slightly at it, sucking bruises into his throat between the bandages covering the mostly healed bite mark on his neck, breaking the skin over his collarbone. A few red pearls of blood rise from the tiny bite marks, and he licks them without thinking—

Then jerks away. “I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have—”

Xue Yang’s eyes are closed. “Go ahead,” he murmurs.

“I should have asked first—”

Xue Yang opens his eyes. “I know you wouldn't hurt me.”

Wincing, Xiao Xingchen reaches down, touches the scar Shuanghua had left on Xue Yang’s stomach. “You’re not a jar of wine. Despite everything, you’re still a human being.”

“ ‘Despite everything.’ ” Xue Yang swallows hard, looking away. The sigil on his chest is glowing, casting an eerie light over his too-pale skin. “Just drink it.”

Xiao Xingchen is still moving, very slowly. He wants to stop, all lust gone, but is suddenly desperate for the yang energy. “Xue Yang, if I ever take too much, or hurt you, you need to tell me.”

If you die, I die, he wants to add. Just to hear the words aloud, make sure he, Xiao Xingchen, the bright moon and gentle breeze, remembers why he’s doing this.

Xue Yang twists under him. “Alright, I get it. Either fuck me, or get off.”

Xiao Xingchen stops. “Why do you have to put it like that?”

“What, are we making love? Fuck, I know that’s not how it works!” He grabs Xiao Xingchen’s shoulder, pulling him deeper onto him, and begins thrusting up into him, hard. “Don’t try to pret—”

“Stop!” Xiao Xingchen pins him back on the bed. It’s an effort, Xue Yang’s thrusting reaching the bundle of nerves deep inside him, and he suddenly craves the friction again. “Did you listen to a word I said? I—oh, just let me do this, all right?”

Xue Yang rolls his eyes, then closes them as if unwilling to look at Xiao Xingchen and bites his lip.

He draws blood.

Frowning, Xiao Xingchen leans forward to kiss Xue Yang, sucking on his lip, relishing the way the blood tingles on his tongue as Xue Yang rocks up into him.

Xue Yang reaches out, slides his fingers through his hair, and suddenly Xiao Xingchen is filled with heat, the world, already sharp, bursting into full color, and he comes again, splattering Xue Yang's stomach with blood.

He rolls over but stays locked together with Xue Yang, drawing his blood out through his lip. They remain like that, Xiao Xingchen lapping gently at the blood welling from his mouth, Xue Yang softening inside him, until Xue Yang’s breathing grows slow and steady. He feels a tendril of contentment that’s not fully his curl into him, soothing him.

“Xue Yang?” he murmurs. “Are you alright?”

He thrills at the sound of his own words. “Xue Yang? Are you alright?” He suddenly wants to have sex again, fully savor the conflicted emotions he can now fully feel—the disgust, the arousal, the pity, the mingled hatred and affection—but despite it all, he’d meant everything he had said before, and is gentle when he eases Xue Yang out of him and touches his shoulder. “Xue Yang?”

Xue Yang is asleep.

Xiao Xingchen lies there for what seems like hours, watching him sleep, that odd, almost external sense of contentment slipping away as his body absorbs Xue Yang’s blood. Again he’s struck by how young and innocent he looks despite him now being older than Xingchen, despite having the blood of countless people under his nails.

Xingchen wakes long before him the next morning. He lets him sleep.

“I took too much blood,” Xiao Xingchen says as they lie there. “You have to tell me when to stop.”

Xue Yang blinks, looking out the window. The sun is high in the sky. He sits up, lip puffy. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“You looked like you needed the rest," he says, and Xue Yang's eyes widen. He can't remember if he ever let Xue Yang sleep in during the old days in Yi City, that this should have such an impact now. "I told you. You can’t let me take so much blood.”

“I gave it to you.”

Xiao Xingchen sighs. “We should get moving.”

Xue Yang rolls out of bed. “I’ll go downstairs, get some food. Get you some water to wash with. Be back in a second.”

He’s only been gone a few minutes when the man from the other night opens the door Xue Yang hadn’t closed fully. He eyes the tousled bed clothes of the single bed, and grins.

“I thought so,” he said, sniffing the air. “Fucking perverts.”

Xiao Xingchen gets out of bed. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave, sir.”

The words sound alien. This is the first person he’s spoken to other than Xue Yang.

It feels...wrong.

The man laughs in his face. “That all you going to say?”

“Please leave, sir. I’m not here to pick a fight.”

“But I am,” says a voice behind the man, and suddenly the man is on his knees, clutching at his ankles with an agonized cry.

Xue Yang grins, gripping a knife. “He bothering you?”

Xiao Xingchen stares open-mouthed. “What did you do?”

“Just nicked his tendons.” Xue Yang rolls the whimpering man into the room with his foot and shuts the door, then bends down and cuts out his tongue with a quick flip of his wrist. “Good thing I forgot my coin purse.”

“You—you—” Xingchen eyes Xue Yang’s victim in horror. The man is gripping his throat, choking on the blood spurting from his mouth, horrific burbling sounds coming from his throat.

“Oh, please. Killing him would improve the world.”

“Killing him?”

Xue Yang’s eyes are bright, body trembling in excitement. “I thought you wanted to make the world better?”

“Not by killing him!”

“Kind of too late. He’ll bleed out soon. I mean, I can always pin a blood-clotting talisman to him, but it will probably cause a stroke.” He produces a blank yellow talisman. “Or I can fix it so you can absorb his yin before he dies.”

“No! That’s—would that work?”

Xue Yang shrugs. “It’s worth a shot, if you don’t want to take my blood.” He touches the sigil on his chest, as if to say, We’re already bound, but..., and Xiao Xingchen has a sudden flashback to him raising his bound hands after his capture at the Chang Manor: “Don’t forget about me…”

“He wasn’t part of our ritual,” Xue Yang shrugs, “but I can fix it so you can take what he has if you don’t want mine.”

“It’s not that I don’t want your blood, it’s that—what am I saying? This man is bleeding out on our floor! Try the talisman!”

“The yin talisman?”

“The blood-clotting talisman! Quickly!”

“Alright, alright.” Grinning, Xue Yang nudges the man’s throat with his foot. “What’s your name, my fat friend?”

“We don’t have time for this!”

“I need it for the talisman!”

"You’re stalling!”

“I’m not stalling! These are my own design! I need his name.” Xue Yang crouches before the man, who’s lying on his side, blood bubbling over the floor. He pats him cheerfully on the cheek with his knife and pulls him up by his hair. “What’s your name? Wang? Liu? Chen?” He looks up at Xiao Xingchen, innocent as as lamb. “He’s not cooperating.”

“You cut out his tongue!”

“He basically asked me to.” Xue Yang is laughing. He seems more… alive than Xiao Xingchen has seen him in a while. Beautiful, in fact...

Xiao Xingchen takes a second to enjoy the half-arousing feeling of revulsion he’s inspired in himself, then shakes his head. “This is not what we discussed.”

“This is exactly what we discussed!” Little spots of color spot Xue Yang's white cheeks. “I saw his wife downstairs. She has a black eye. Looked fresh. If you had let me kill him last night, that would never have happened!"

It’s too late to save the man, blood-clotting talisman or no blood-clotting talisman.

The man looks up at Xiao Xingchen pleadingly, skin ashen, shaking.

"Who knows when killing someone is wrong? Or right? Nobody can tell, so why bother trying?”

Xiao Xingchen takes the knife from Xue Yang and slits the man’s jugular.

The man bleeds out within seconds, sprawling forward on the floor when Xue Yang releases his hair.

Xue Yang looks up at Xingchen, eyes like stars. “I forgot how beautiful you are when you kill.”

“Why—why would you think that was something appropriate to say to me right now? I—all I want to do is help people, but you—you made me kill again—”

Xue Yang looks confused. “You helped his wife. And he deserved it.”

“You’ve done far worse than what he did! Does that mean I should kill you?”

Xue Yang shrugs. “We’ve already been over this. Are we all packed? Guess we’re leaving through the window. Unless—” He hooks a finger in the neck of Xiao Xingchen’s robe, grinning. “How about it?”

Xiao Xingchen shoves him away. “What is wrong with you?!”

Xue Yang’s grin disappears. “Oh, like you don’t want to!”

“I just killed a man!”

“Exactly. Get off your high horse.”

“It was a mercy killing because of what you did—”

“I guess you’re right. Better hoof it before they notice the blood dripping through these shoddy floorboards.”

Xiao Xingchen doesn’t look at the body as they fly down from the window and head down the road.

Again.

Xue Yang has made him kill again—

He can’t risk night-hunting again, not unless he does it immediately after sex and blood-drinking. Can’t save people like he used to.

Can’t atone.

And now, not only is he useless, he’s actively harming people—

“You should have seen his wife,” Xue Yang says. “Face all puffed up like A-Qing’s when she ate that walnut. Are you angry?”

“Of course I’m angry!”

“Like, angry in a fun way?”

Xiao Xingchen laughs. He doesn’t want to laugh, but he hasn’t had a proper handle on his emotions since coming back to life. Either he’s too numb, or his feelings are too intense, or they’re not fully his own. “No.”

“You laughed.”

Xiao Xingchen gets himself under control. “What you did was wrong.”

“You should have seen the wife—”

“How do I know there even was a wife?” He regrets the words the moment they leave his mouth and the smile disappears from Xue Yang’s face. “I mean—”

“You don’t believe me.”

“I…”

“I did what you asked! I improved the world! Had I killed him last night when I wanted to, his wife would have been spared. So who was really right? Not you. And besides, he called you a pervert. What was I supposed to do?”

“You mean, he called you a pervert. By extension.”

“He called you a pervert,” Xue Yang insists.

Xiao Xingchen rubs his temples. “From now on, if you’re going to kill someone, you get my approval first.”

“Technically, you killed—fine. I’ll be quiet.” Xue Yang walks a bit faster.

He’s back to himself by evening, rattling on as if nothing had happened. Xiao Xingchen doesn’t say another word about the dead man, either. What can he say? If Xue Yang was telling the truth, man’s death had made the world a better place.

He just wishes it hadn’t been him who had delivered that final blow.

Xingchen’s fault, the whole thing. No more letting Xue Yang out of his sight. No more letting him roam around on his own.

If we’re busy having sex, he won’t be off killing people.

Xiao Xingchen has a sudden vision of them having sex in the room with that dead body, drinking from the man's throat while thrusting into Xue Yang, and is confused by the mixture of lust and disgust tingling along his spine. Not at the emotions themselves—lust and disgust have been his constant companions since waking—but at how much the thought of drinking blood from anyone other than Xue Yang repulses him.

He rubs the sigil branded into his chest.

Xue Yang must have known it would repulse him. Must have simply been testing him with the idea of blood from that man—

Xue Yang turns to wave at him to walk faster, and Xiao Xingchen gives up. No point in trying to puzzle it all out, figure out what Xue Yang did not did not know or intend or want. He’s not sure Xue Yang himself knows half the time.

Which is…exciting, if he’s being honest. It was the same way with Chengmei.

Except then there was no perverted morals or internal turmoil. Just companionship tinged with slight confusion over how attached he had gotten to Chengmei, and how quickly.

It hadn’t been romantic, he tells himself. Nothing near it. They had shared a bed, but that was all. They’d had to huddle together for warmth, so waking up with Chengmei wrapped around him was simply out of habit, even in summer. He’d fixed Chengmei’s hair every morning, and Chengmei often touched his arm and waist and knee, but that meant nothing…

Nothing.

They stop for the night in the forest. There’s a village nearby, but Xue Yang, practiced at fleeing from crime scenes, votes not to attempt it, and Xiao Xingchen has no desire to approach people, and not just because of what had happened in the inn.

Xiao Xingchen glances at his hands as they settle down. For now they’re strong enough to grip a sword, but he still wouldn’t trust himself on a night-hunt, and he’s kept Shuanghua in his qiankun pouch.

He hopes Xue Yang doesn’t suggest one. Rub in the fact that Xingchen is near useless…

It’s warm that night, but Xue Yang sleeps in his full robes, with Jiangzai drawn beside him. He’s never quite at ease while sleeping outside, Xiao Xingchen notices. Hasn’t truly been relaxed since they left the Coffin House, except when he was bent over that man.

Lips parted. Eyes sparkling—

He dwells on that thought as he stares up at the stars, glimmering brightly through the treetops against the deep purple sky. How beautiful Xue Yang looked. How animated. The bringer of so much death, yet so alive—

He rolls over and kisses Xue Yang. Enjoys the softness of his lips, the heat of his tongue, the way Xue Yang melts into him.

Enjoys feeling like an ordinary human being, not like a cultivator or a corpse.

Xue Yang often makes him feel like that, he realizes as kisses him. Like an ordinary human being with regrets and wants and conflicting thoughts and feelings. Treats him like an imperfect being, at least in this new second life. Fights with him, yells at him, throws tantrums and argues with him.

He likes it more than he should. He shouldn't relish being seen for the imperfect being that he is—should want to be held to a higher standard—

He dwells on this thought, knows the sex will be made more potent by the disgust he feels at himself, until Xue Yang's tongue and hands drive all thought from his mind.

It’s slow and lazy, with Xiao Xingchen on top. He drinks from Xue Yang’s arm as he rocks into him, letting his lip and collarbone heal. He’s careful not to take too much blood, just enough to keep him balanced the next day.

"You can take more if you want," Xue Yang whispers. "Take whatever you need..."

He falls asleep curled up beside Xue Yang, boneless and relaxed, but Xue Yang still sleeps with one hand on Jiangzai.

They travel for two weeks like that, sleeping under the stars.

Night-hunting, a few times. Or what Xue Yang refers to as night-hunting. Xingchen is of little use, even directly after sex and blood. He can take care of himself, but as far as taking on direct threats, or protecting Xue Yang—

“We’ll get you back up to full strength,” promises Xue Yang after he kills a spirit beast entirely on his own. “We’ll have you laying waste to the local demons in no time.”

Xiao Xingchen nods. He wishes he had put it another way. Laying waste. Destroying things...

He’d never balked at killing creatures that needed killing. Relished it, if anything. Shifu had spoken to him about it a few times, tried to help him reconcile his merciless half with the half that was almost too compassionate.

But now, when he was closer to fierce corpse than a living thing himself—

He wants to give life. Not take it.

But they're both happy enough, for the most part.

The first shadow is cast when they stop by a village to replenish their supplies.

“Take two eggplants,” urges the old man at the produce stall. “You boys look pale.”

“I didn’t ask you,” Xue Yang snaps. Seconds before he had been smiling, looking around for a stall that sold candy, but now his knife is out. “Just give me the fucking eggplant!”

“I beg your pardon, sir,” Xiao Xingchen says quickly, bowing. The words are heavy on his tongue. He hasn’t spoken to anyone other than Xue Yang since that terrible night in Tanzhou, and with Xue Yang there's no need to be artificially polite. He’s feeling jumpy surrounded by all these people, and his gait is unsteady, the world somewhat…not blurred, exactly, but distant. As if his knowing he does not belong where people live has created a physical barrier in the air, something preventing him from reaching out and touching the things around him. “He didn’t mean it.”

“ ‘I beg your pardon, sir,’ ” Xue Yang mimics as they walk away from the stall.

“Why was that your reaction to kindness?”

“He was just trying to make a sale.”

“He was trying to give you one for free.”

“Oh?” Xue Yang glances over his shoulder. “You wait here. I’ll go get another.”

“I’ll come with you—”

Xue Yang forcibly seats him on a broken-down fence in an alley. “You look like you’re about to pass out. Stay here.”

Xiao Xingchen tries to follow him, but it’s so hot, and his legs heavy, as if they’re not attached properly at the joints—

He glances around the alley. The crowded buildings look almost—wobbly—

He closes his left eye. There. Slightly better…

Xue Yang returns, whistling, cheerful again. “All ready,” he says. “Let’s go.”

“What’s that sound?”

Xue Yang glances over his shoulder at the commotion rising from the marketplace. “Oh, just some bandits.”

“Just some bandits?”

Xue Yang hauls him to his feet. “There’s no real government in place around here, not since the war. Just a lot of squabbling little sects. Come on. We don’t want to get caught up in this. Well, you wouldn’t, anyway.”

Xiao Xingchen takes a few steps, but the heat is making it hard to move quickly.

A man appears at the end of the alley, holding a long thin knife.

“Don’t!” says Xiao Xingchen when Xue Yang draws Jiangzai.

Huffing in annoyance, Xue Yang grabs him by the hand and flies over the rooftops. As they fly over the town they have a full view of the bandits ransacking the marketplace—

So Xue Yang had been telling the truth. A part of Xingchen had assumed Xue Yang had done something to cause the commotion.

He takes a closer look as they fly past, squinting. The old man from before lies slumped over his produce stall, blood staining the flagstones.

“Stop!” Xiao Xingchen clutches at Xue Yang’s arm. "They need help!"

“Make up your mind, dammit!” Xue Yang drops him on a roof and remains balanced on Jiangzai. “Are you telling me I can do what I need to do?”

“There has to be a sect around here somewhere, go find them, they can arrest them—”

“Yeah, good luck with that.” Xue Yang dives down into the marketplace, laughing, both of Jiangzai’s blades extended.

Xiao Xingchen drags himself to the edge of the roof. The tiles are like a griddle, and all around him is that same sweet smell from the Coffin House courtyard.

Which is quickly overwhelmed by the scent of blood, thick on the humid air. It envelopes him as Jiangzai whirls around Xue Yang, slaughtering the bandits like he’s harvesting wheat.

Xiao Xingchen watches, left eye covered. He counts eighteen bandits total, rapidly reduced to seventeen, then sixteen, then fifteen—

He wants to cry out for Xue Yang to stop, but all he can do is watch as Xue Yang slaughters them all. Not efficiently. Nowhere near efficiently.

He’s enjoying himself.

This is what he looked like as he turned the Chang Clan and Baixue Temple into slaughterhouses, Xingchen thinks as he watches Xue Yang, Jiangzai spinning so fast his one good eye can’t follow it, deftly cutting and slashing and thrusting with a brutal elegance, lopping off an arm there, a leg there. A predator playing with its food.

This is Xue Yang in his element. Xiao Xingchen can pretend he domesticated him, but he knows it’s a lie.

Xue Yang laughs as he kills the last bandit, his half-hysterical giggle floating up on the scent of blood, wrapping around Xiao Xingchen, and all Xingchen can think of is the last time he heard him laugh like that. Of Xue Yang’s manic laughter as he taunted him: “ ‘Save the world’? What a joke! You can’t even save yourself! Xiao Xingchen, you achieved nothing! A complete failure. You brought this on yourself! You deserve it!”

He drags himself forward, needing to see Xue Yang’s face, see how he had looked as he watched Xiao Xingchen kill Song Lan—

The last thing he remembers is falling off the edge of the roof.

****

Enjoy? AO3!

[katnissmellarkkk]

Okay, here we go! Imma do my liveblog of The Hunger Games, Chapter One, for #THGagain :

I’ll put my thoughts underneath the cut so I don’t clog up the dash 🥳

Okay but right off the bat, Katniss says her mattress cover is rough 🥺. I don’t know, this just made me sad all of a sudden.

So okay, but the fact that Prim had a bad dream and climbed in with their mother? I don’t know if that indicates that Prim still sees their mother as a source of comfort whereas Katniss can’t let herself feel the same way or if it’s just because she didn’t want to wake Katniss.

Maybe it’s supposed to be that Prim is too naive to understand that their mother is mentally fragile? Since in Mockingjay, she says “I know there’s only so much mother can hear,” or something like that, as a way to prove she’s not a little kid anymore sooo. I don’t know. Just some thoughts.

Katniss is shady towards mama right off the bat 🤣. Katniss is shady no matter what though. It’s what makes her narration sound like a teenage girl.

If Katniss is so anti-social though, who’s telling her her mother was once beautiful?

As a cat lover, I take offense to Katniss’ insults to the poor one eyed furball 😭.

So coal miners are also women? I suspected as much but I didn’t realize it was explicitly stated? So if Katniss’ life had gone differently, would she have become a coal miner?

So none of the houses in Twelve get electricity outside of a couple hours a night? Or just in the Seam?

I always forget that Katniss had nightmares even before the games 😔😔😔. Nightmares of her father “being blown to bits.” She has a vivid way with words.

Her father made her bow 🥺🥺. I knew that. I just thought I should mention it again. She uses the bow her father handmade throughout the series 🥺.

Also she says Peacekeepers turn a blind eye to “the few of them who hunt”. A few is more than two. Who else besides Katniss and Gale go hunting?

I like that she randomly starts mumbling to herself 🤣🤣🤣

Once upon a time, Katniss was outspoken apparently. But she mentions that she has to hold her tongue even at home because Prim may repeat her words. I don’t know why, but Prim seems immature for twelve years old. At twelve, in today’s society, you’re going into sixth grade. A sixth grader should know how to keep a secret or hold her tongue.

Gale says she never smiles but in the woods but isn’t that the only place they really spend time together? 🤣

“I kind of liked that lynx but I liked the money I got for it’s pelt more” 😂😂😂

An arrow inside bread. How fortuitous 😭😭😭

I do love that Katniss’ first introduction of Gale is “he could be my brother”

“But we’re at least not that closely related” 🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️

“Katniss, get off your cousin”

Even though the merchant class is smaller

Meaning they’re even more inbred

And Katniss is half merch-

Okay I’m done with this line of thinking 🤭😅

So backwoods 🤣

So did Mrs. Everdeen’s parents disown her? Or what? Do they still own that apothecary shop? Does Katniss occasionally walk by her grandparents in the town square? Like I’d like more context here, Suz 🙃

Aww, I always feel so bad for Katniss when she talks about her mother abandoning her 😭😩🥺

“But to be honest, I’m not the forgiving type” me either. Me either 🤧.

This may be why I so closely relate to her when she’s angry.

And why when people in the book say she needs to be more forgiving (ala Haymitch) I’m like “no”

I’m sorry but on second glance (more like 8th glance because I’ve read this chapter since I was 16) it’s so obvious Gale was hitting on her here 😅.

She’s oblivious 🤣🤣🤣

As she should be 😆

So later on, in the second book at least, Katniss definitely has some high respect for Hazelle Hawthorne. But here it seems to be like she’s implying Hazelle and her own mother are useless without her and Gale, and like they wouldn’t be able to provide for themselves. Maybe Hazelle just wasn’t fleshed out to Suzanne when she wrote the first book, the same way the love triangle you can tell if you look is sort of just tossed in there in the first book too? Anyways, just a thought.

That line about Prim being the only person Katniss is certain that she loves is sweet (it’s actually one of my favorite lines in the series) but it’s also so shady at the same time 😅😅😅. Like girl, you’re not sure if you love your mother or even your best friend (in a platonic way)?

Katniss makes a point in mentioning it took a long time for her and Gale to become friends. And I feel like that has been simplified a lot along the way, but it never really sounded to me like Katniss and Gale were besties for as long as most people think. The movies are a lot to blame for this, I know.

I don’t actually think Katniss is truly jealous here of the other girls wanting Gale? I feel like if she were she would have unconsciously insulted the school girls who were into him instead of just outright saying she was jealous, just not for romantic reasons. But who knows 🤷🏼‍♀️.

It was already mentioned earlier but I think Suzanne made a continuity error here, when Gale and Katniss mentioned fishing at the lake. The lake is a place Katniss explicitly mentioned in Catching Fire, to be private between her and her father. She even specially said she never took Gale there. I feel much better about my own writing continuity errors now.

Okay, both Katniss and Gale are so dumb. I would never prepare a feast for after the reaping. They’re just jinxing themselves. I have OCD really bad no one come for me.

I like how The Hob is a black market that’s literally just sitting in broad daylight 🤣🤣🤣.

Katniss just referenced being attacked by dogs... um I’m sorry, do we have no fear of rabies in this universe? 😭😭🙃🙃😐😐😅😅

Katniss : “me and the mayor’s daughter aren’t friends, we just hang out all the time at school, eat lunch together, sit by each other and are always partners. But weren’t not friends.” 🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️

I like the mention of hair ribbons for the rich girl. This is just the fic writer in me seeping into my reading.

Gale and Madge’s little dispute ...

I see why they get shipped together 😅. They’re both just taking swipes at each other here.

Awww, Katniss sticking up for Madge, even though Madge is the privileged one 😭. Katniss has such a pure heart.

The entire point of the Madge/Gale interaction though was just to set up the class divide explanation in Katniss’ head to the reader.

But my Peeta centric heart also picks up on the comments in Katniss’ head of how unlikely it is to be chosen at the reaping when you’re a town kid.

In other words, Peeta had a slim to none chance of being chosen and still was.

Now I think of it, so was Prim...

That was just an unlucky reaping for the kids without tesserae 🙃

Also it reminds me of every fic I ever read that mentioned a conspiracy in the reapings and how the kids aren’t actually chosen at random but anyways I digress

I feel Gale though, with the whole idea of knowing something isn’t this person’s fault and there’s nothing they could do but still being so angry at them because it isn’t fair that you have to suffer and they don’t.

My anger issues are really showing 😅😅😅.

Honestly though, if Katniss is saying Gale on a normal day is rational about the class divide not being merchants faults, then clearly his issues with Peeta later on really were just of jealousy and not because he was a merchant vs Seam.

I just feel like I’ve seen that around and I’m not really convinced

In my interpretation of the character, Katniss’ reasons for not sharing in Gale’s rage comes from exhaustion after a lifetime of powerlessness. Some people (re: females more often) just get worn out about the things they cannot change and can’t even let it get inside their brain because there’s nothing they could do about it.

I mean, she is a more understanding person than Gale but I feel like so much of her character is already so tired right from chapter one.

Okay, just a pointless rambling thought

“Where something pretty” these children are so shady 🤣🤣🤣 that’s a line I would say though

The fact that her like 42 year old mother still fits in a dress she wore at like 20 is really a testament to how hungry they are 🤧🤧🤧

Okay but I’m not trying to pick on her mother, but when they were starving, why did either she or Katniss sell the fancy clothes from her apothecary days? I’m nitpicking I know. I’m a nitpicker.

Also good for Katniss trying to forgive her mother.

God knows how hard it is for me to try and forgive people.

Literally, God knows.

I like that Katniss didn’t disagree with Prim saying she’s beautiful, just that she doesn’t usually look this way 😂😂😂.

I just know my sister wouldn’t let me not take tesserae if this was us. She’d be like “you’ll be fine, four entries? Please. We can have more food for an entire year, don’t be selfish.” 😅😅😅

I feel like noting that Katniss and Prim’s age gap isn’t that significant? Four years? That’s not that large. Not even at 12 and 16.

They herd these children off like they’re .... pigs going to a slaughter... 🤭🤭🤭

Katniss casually stating “I could be shot on a daily basis” 😐😐😐

Katniss and Gale agreeing they’d rather be shot than starve is honestly so sad but lowkey sounds like something two teenagers would say. They should have put dialogue like this in the movies.

I didn’t even remember District 12 has 8,000 people.... why’d I think they only had 3,000????

I need to update some of my fics with this information

Katniss just said “televised by the state”. I’ve never heard her call any region a state before?

I like that Katniss calls Effie’s grin scary and white, because tons of people (i.e me) whiten our teeth in today’s society. And to Katniss and probably all of Twelve that’s creepy. I think it’s weird to Europeans too but l digress.

Also do the people in this district brush and floss, they never seem to mention it in the books, ya know?

Honestly the idea of the hunger games sounded cooler without Songbirds and Snakes telling us it was just some dumb guy’s idea that no one ever thought would come true.

Aww, sugar is a delicacy 🤧🤧🤧

I knew already that but lemme fully feel that sentiment for a moment okey

Umm I’m sorry, did Mayor Undersee just casually state Lucy Gray Baird’s name every year and we never knew it? Did Snow just allow this? Seems suspish

Also the idea of Katniss being her distant relative and hearing the name and not knowing the connection... and yeah, anyways. I got wayyyy ahead of myself and off track sorry

Why would Haymitch hug Effie? I’m sorry, but Hayffie having a secret affair at some point in all the years they worked together seems more likely than I thought.

I mean, Katniss never mentions Haymitch hugging anyone besides her and Peeta when they just almost died, are about to die or that one time Katniss was sobbing because she thought Peeta was gonna die.

You know what though? I like that at this moment, when the name is about to be announced, Katniss worried about herself. She spends so much time worrying for her sister, babying her sister, mothering her sister, she deserves ten seconds of worrying for her own safety.

Of course, said sister is the one chosen. Ironic considering the whole encounter with Madge.

Okay, I think that concludes my thoughts for chapter one of The Hunger Games!

[immortalcoelacanth]

Between the Walls, Chapter 5: Turtles, Bees, and Hybrids in Between

*drags self out of hole and drops chapter*

God this was a struggle to write with school but here we are! Clocking in at either the second or third longest chapter I've ever written for a fic! Please forgive me if there's any spelling errors!

... I didn't help that every time I opened the doc I use to work on this it kept opening up to the chapter that involves Dream XD

Word count: 9016 (yes, you read that right)

Summary: Tubbo sets out to reunite with Tommy, Tommy makes a new friend, and a ghost unintentionally makes their reunion harder. 

“Where did you take Tommy?!”

“Keep it down, kid, or else you’ll get in trouble!”

“I don’t care! Where is he?!”

For the past several days, Tubbo had been trying to figure out where Tommy had been exiled to. He had interrogated practically all the other borrowers who had been involved in kicking his friend, his brother, out of the only home he had ever known.

All the borrowers other than the one responsible for actually taking him to where he was exiled to, that is. Fortunately, finding the woman had not been all that hard since he knew the… wilder borrowers tended to stay near either the front gate or the market when they were trading items they had managed to scavenge. After asking around the market to see if anyone knew where she was, made tougher by the fact that he had no clue what her name was and only had a vague description of what she looked like, he had eventually been told that she was last spotted at the front gate.

Which led to the current predicament with Tubbo facing one of the borrowers responsible for his friend’s exile. His hands were planted on his hips as he glared the woman down, refusing to let her pass until she answered his question.

The woman placed her head in her hands and sighed loudly. “Listen, I can’t. I can’t tell you. I can’t take you to him. I can’t do any of those things since I’d get in so much trouble-”

“I. Don’t. Care.” Tubbo spat, the pure venom and anger in his voice causing the other borrower to recoil. “And I’ll do whatever I have to so I can see Tommy again! So, uh…”

The anger on his face faded, turning to sheepish embarrassment. “What’s your name?”

“Sara.”

“Alright, Sara,” The venom was back, albeit not as strong as it was before. “I won’t rest until I’m with Tommy again, so you had better tell me where he is! Or else!”

Even with his unusually angry demeanor, Tubbo doubted his threats would be taken all that seriously thanks to both his unfortunately short height and typically meek demeanor. He had never been all that good at standing up for himself and fighting back, Tommy had always been more confident and headstrong, willing to stick up for him no matter what.

He missed Tommy, so much.

It was like there was a piece of his heart missing. His very soul seemed to ache with each passing day and, even though some of the adults in Borrowton were a bit nicer to him, their warmth failed to chase away the cold feeling that had engulfed him. He needed Tommy, needed to see his best friend again and make sure he was okay, and he would do whatever was needed to accomplish this goal.

No matter how weak or scared he was.

“Alright, alright.” Sara sighed as she held her hands out. “How about this. I can’t take you directly to him, but I’ll drop you off nearby and point you in the direction you need to go. That sound good?”

Tubbo immediately nodded his head, his previously aggressive stance relaxing as relief flowed through him. “That would work! Can we leave now? Soon? By the end of today? When do you think-”

“Holy crap, one thing at a time.” The older borrower interrupted, looking more than a little annoyed at the sudden bombardment of questions. “Luckily for you I was gonna leave soon anyways. Just let me get all my supplies packed up and then we can go. You’ll probably want to get some stuff for yourself as well.”

Perhaps it was a bit naive of him to not question her further, drill her on why she had changed her mind so fast, but he was too caught up in his excitement to think about anything other than his reunion with Tommy. He quickly nodded once more, already thinking about what he would need to get from his… house.

Not a home, it was never a home.

“Then get outta here! I’ll meet you at the front gate.” Sara insisted as she shooed Tubbo away. “Scram before we both get in trouble!”

“Y-Yeah, and thank you!” The younger borrower called out as he quickly ran off, stumbling in his haste to reach his destination. He did his best to stick to some of the darker, more hidden paths so he could avoid encountering anyone else lest they see the hopeful look on his face.

Borrowton itself was not at that large, but it was tall. The settlement had originally been built underground before reaching upwards and connecting with a tree that grew above it. Roots had been carved to form staircases and ladders stretched down from the higher levels. There were also wood and rope pathways that connected each of the towering structures, allowing people to use them to easily cross over to other towers, or simply sit on them and rest while taking in the scenery.

He and Tommy had frequently sat up on these pathways, staring down at the ground that was so very, very far below them, or use it as a chance to annoy some of the borrowers who walked underneath them.

Fishing rods were perfect for stealing hats, and other interesting looking items.

Shorter, more typical houses also littered the ground. They were some of the oldest structures in the settlement, made long before some of the borrowers who founded this place decided to get a bit more creative and inventive with their building. And it was in one of these old, dilapidated houses that Tommy and Tubbo lived.

Well, it wasn’t really their house. It was more so a place that they had permission to live in, since no one else wanted to take them in or offer up their own place to stay. A blatant rejection by their community, but Tubbo had learned to stop caring about that a long time ago.

The second he reached his destination, he flung the door open, raced inside, and quickly closed it behind him.

“Okay, okay. Get the important stuff and don’t worry about the rest.” Tubbo mumbled as he quickly scanned the dark interior of his house. He didn’t bother to light any of the lamps and instead opted to grab a backpack and start filling it with supplies. Tools, food, some bottles of water, and building supplies were all quickly shoved into the bag, haste taking priority over organization.

Of course, with his speed and intense focus, the borrower was bound to slip up and make a mistake somewhere. This manifested in him accidentally smacking into one of the walls near the staircase that led up to the loft, knocking it loose and causing it to slide to the side-

Revealing their hidden stash of items.

Tubbo froze as he caught sight of the worn-down jukebox that had been shoved into the corner of the cramped space. The wood was chipped, he could recall the splinters he had to help get out of Tommy’s hands on multiple occasions, and the varnish had long since faded entirely.

And yet, even with all that damage it still sounded amazing.

He smiled gently as he reached out and carefully patted the top of the jukebox. This item had brought them both so many happy memories, moments of joy without having to worry about anything else. It was undoubtedly the most important item the duo had, a title shared only by the two discs that the borrowers had kept hidden from the community that had shunned them.

Such rare items that could only be found and never replicated were priceless and would have immediately been used to handle all sorts of vital trades with other settlements, but the duo did not care. The discs were theirs, and that was that. He knew for a fact that Tommy would never give them up, and he wouldn’t either.

Tubbo reached around the jukebox and carefully removed the thin, wooden container that had been hidden by its bulky frame. He quickly opened it to check and see if the items it contained were still okay. The two discs, Cat and Mellohi written on both of them to help identify which was which, immediately greeted his worried gaze. They were both perfectly fine, no scratches or blemishes to be seen, and the borrower let out a relieved sigh.

Even if he couldn’t bring the jukebox with him, at least he could give Tommy the discs once they were reunited.

The case was carefully added to the backpack, some items placed on top of it to hide it from sight, and Tubbo took one last look of the closest thing to a home he had ever known. From the low hanging ceiling and the loft that housed both of their beds, to the tiny kitchen Tommy had set on fire more than once, the house was just as worn down and broken as they were, but they had lived their best life regardless.

Discarded like the trash everyone thought they were, left in a rotting home and ignored, but he and Tommy had come out all the stronger in spite of it.

A quiet, near inaudible voice whispered that he should set the house ablaze, turn his past to ashes and rise out of the destruction that had caused, confident and victorious. To leave a remainder that they had failed to break him, break his spirit, but he quickly ignored it and instead shouldered his backpack.

No, it would be better to disappear without a trace and show them how insignificant they all were to him. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction in letting them know how badly they had all hurt him. How close they had gotten to their goal.

So, Tubbo turned and left his old house behind. The door was carefully shut and he patted it, knowing it would be the last time he saw this place. It was bittersweet, leaving like this, but he knew this was the right path forward.

He had to see Tommy again.

He would see Tommy again.

With that thought, that promise, in mind he quickly ducked back into the darker alleyways and slowly but surely made his way to the front gate. Occasionally he would have to stop and wait as other borrowers, and the occasional guard, passed him by, but he ultimately managed to reach his destination with little difficulty.

He immediately spotted Sara after making his way up the hill that connected the gate to the rest of Borrowton, having internally panicked the entire time about being seen. It looked like the guards were busy with something else, probably patrolling parts of the dark forest for any items dropped by mobs, which meant this was the perfect time for his departure from Borrowton.

Using up the last of his energy, he sprinted the rest of the way to the older borrower, dropping to his knees beside her as he took a moment to catch his breath. It was a moment that was quickly interrupted as Sara snagged the back of his shirt and dragged him towards the collection of shrubbery that surrounded the front gate, hiding it from sight.

And in turn hiding both Tubbo and the other borrower from the guards.

He let out a yelp as he was finally let go, dropping flat onto his back while Sara crossed her arms and tapped her foot in annoyance. He glanced up at her and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could start talking she turned around and disappeared into the foliage.

Taking that as his sign to follow her, he quickly pushed himself upright and raced through the last bits of greenery that helped hide Borrowton. Shoving through large leaves, and nearly getting smacked in the face by a twig, he burst into the warm sunlight that peeked between the trees.

It was weird seeing the sun, but it was even weirder seeing the large fox that must have been patiently waiting for them, bags full of supplies scattered around it. The life he lived was not a sheltered one, per say, but he rarely got the chance to leave Borrowton and really experience the world around him. He had always been good working with his hands, and the adults all told him that he would grow up to create things, to build and help their home. Whenever he asked about Tommy, about what his role would be, he had only ever seen disappointed frowns and the shaking of heads.

Like they had given up on him before trying, deciding he wasn’t worth whatever effort they were willing to give out.

“This is my fox.” Sara explained as she patted the animal’s flank, unintentionally snapping Tubbo out of his memory filled haze. “He’s gonna be our ticket to getting you to your friend, so you better be nice.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be extra nice!” He assured her as he got up and made his way over to the fox. Once he was close enough, he scratched behind the fox’s ears, grinning at the happy noises the animal made. A contemplative look crossed his face, and he decided to voice his question. “Does he have a name?” “No? He’s just a fox.” Sara stiffly replied as she started tying the bags to the fox’s sides, attaching them to the near invisible harness the animal was wearing. “And everyone knows he’s mine, so he doesn’t need a name.”

“Oh…” Tubbo mumbled, appearing downcast before perking up. “Can I give him a nickname, then? Something I can call him?”

Though she seemed incredibly confused by his question, she hesitantly nodded. “Yeah? I can’t really do anything to stop you.”

“I’ll call him Squeeks then!” Tubbo beamed. “Because he sounds all squeaky, but spelled differently! Uniquely!”

As if agreeing with Tubbo’s decision, the newly named Squeeks let out an excited squeal and bumped the young borrower. He laughed and continued to love on the energetic creature as Sara finished up their preparations.

Time seemed to both drag on and race by, and before Tubbo knew it the other borrower had finished packing up and was already climbing onto the fox, with him following behind a moment later. The fur beneath his hands was nice and fluffy, as soft as Squeeks was, and served to be the perfect distraction that stopped him from noticing the little whistle Sara let out.

“Time to go!”

That was the only warning he got as the fox started dashing between the trees and emerging into a large, open field. He winced and lifted a hand up to block the harsh rays coming from the sun. It was so… so bright out here! And all the blue-

“Is that an ocean?” Tubbo gasped, jaw dropping in surprise upon seeing the massive body of water that was apparently situated not that far from his old home. “We live near an ocean?!”

“Lived, in your case, and yeah.” Sara answered, quickly glancing back at the younger borrower before returning her eyes to the horizon. “Water and borrowers don’t really mix, so it’s more of a restricted area.”

“Well that’s a dumb rule.” He huffed. “How else are we supposed to get used to water if we aren’t around it? It just doesn’t make sense!”

“Rules don’t tend to make sense, and enjoy the scenery while you can since we gotta go pretty far inland.” The older borrower said before falling silent and focusing on making sure the fox was headed in the right direction. There were several times where Tubbo opened his mouth to speak, wanting to ask a question, but ultimately remained silent and instead opted to watch their slowly changing surroundings.

It gave him plenty of time to think, too. Think about where he was going and what he was going to do, and ask himself some questions that he knew would go unanswered.

Questions about humans.

What did a settlement of humans even look like? He had only heard about the occasional town, knew there was one close to Borrowton, but he had never been allowed to visit it. Too small and dangerous for borrowing, apparently. Would this place be like that one? Small and difficult to find a good hiding spot? What about the humans?

Would they be as cruel and cunning as he had been told, or would he find a human who was nice and wouldn’t kill him if he was spotted? He had so many questions, and the time for their answers would have to come much later…

“Here we are.”

The sound of Sara’s voice snapped Tubbo out of his thoughts and he straightened up, eyes landing on the collection of structures ahead. Some were made out of wood, others out of what appeared to be different kinds of stone, and there were sprawling wooden paths that stretched out in all sorts of directions.

It was… intimidating to say the least.

He had no idea how long it would take him to try and find Tommy. There were so many spaces a borrower could hide in. From the buildings themselves to the various trees and shrubs that could easily be used as a hiding spot, practically everywhere had the potential to house a borrower to some extent. And this was only a portion of what he would need to explore.

Tommy could be anywhere if he found him at all.

Tubbo nervously swallowed as he slid off of Squeeks, the fox immediately started nuzzling his back and nearly knocked the poor borrower over. He let out an awkward laugh, mood lightening just the slightest bit, and turned his attention to the affectionate animal.

“It was nice meeting you, Squeeks.” Tubbo said as he scratched at the fox’s ears and got that signature, laugh-like noise in response. He didn’t see how Sara’s eyes narrowed in annoyance, and it was only when she loudly cleared her throat that he looked up at her.

“And thank you for your help, Sara!” He hastily added. “I’m grateful, truly! I don’t know how I can repay you-”

“Don’t worry about that since this is the last time we’ll see one another.” She interrupted, her face rather blank and betraying none of her emotions. “So, forget about any of that and just live, alright kid?”

“Mhm!” Tubbo quickly nodded. While he wasn’t all that fond of leaving on such a note, debts were a powerful thing after all, he knew there was nothing he could say to change her mind. All he could hope was that working with her didn’t come back to bite him.

Maybe… maybe he and Tommy could stay here. There was always the chance that they could turn this place into their new home, a place they could live in without having to worry about being bothered by other borrowers. Of course, there was still the challenge of finding food, a good source of water, and actually building their home, but that was something they could work on over time.

Yes, that was it! He would build a temporary base, find Tommy, and then work on creating their own home!

With a plan in mind and hope filling his heart, Tubbo waved once more to Sara and set off on his mission. Dashing between the undergrowth and other forms of cover to keep himself from being seen by any humans, or dangerous animals, that might be nearby

Sara sighed softly to herself as she watched the younger borrower vanish from sight. It was so strange knowing that this was the second time she had done this, abandoning a child to some horribly doomed fate, but at least Tubbo had a better chance of surviving then Tommy did.

She let out a quiet snort and shook her head. It was highly unlikely he was still alive thanks to his temperament and what she knew of the Blood God. It wasn’t that she thought he was a bad person, but his habits and choices were… dangerous. It would have been all too easy for him to expose Borrowton to outsiders and humans. He never seriously considered what the consequences his actions would have when something went wrong, how selfish and immature he was.

He was nothing more than a threat to all the borrowers he interacted with, a threat to their way of life.

Good riddance.

                                                   xxxxxxxxxx

Warm sunlight shone down on the lonely cabin sitting in the middle of the empty tundra. The light brought with it an unusual warmth, making it the perfect day to spend some time outside gathering resources or fixing up the cabin.

Which was exactly what Technoblade had decided to do.

After repairing the damage that he had dealt to the porch, ignoring the borrower who had followed him outside and immediately started teasing him, the hybrid had decided to spend the rest of the day working on Carl’s stable. The least he could do was improve it so that way the horse would be comfortable in the harsh chill of the tundra.

Surprisingly enough, Tommy had trailed after him as he went from place to place using his own secret passages to keep up with the hybrid. It was fascinating being able to see the hidden doors that had previously gone unnoticed by him, and he was relieved to know that the property value of his home wouldn’t be going down.

Nothing was worse than having a bunch of holes in your house that made it look like it was infested by mice.

Still, the amount of ingenuity required to make something so simple yet complex, even if he had been taught how to do it before, was immense. Hell, if it wasn’t for naturally loud Tommy was, Techno doubted he would have ever found out about the borrower and all the passageways he had made. So, he ended paying more attention than he expected to Tommy when the borrower started making a pathway that connected to the top of Carl’s stable.

A bit unsurprising since he seemed to be very fond of the horse. He wasted no time in pointing out how much Carl seemed to like him, although Techno personally thought the horse was fairly apathetic towards Tommy’s attempts at friendship and only used it as a chance to get carrots from the borrower.

Carl was definitely the smartest being on the server, hands down.

Plus, he was immensely amused as he watched Tommy struggle to hold each carrot up, the vegetable practically the same size as the borrower. It was only through sheer stubbornness and willpower he was able to lift the thing in the first place.

And the occasional nudge from Techno that helped him keep his balance when he tipped back too far. Fences weren’t the safest of places to stand on, of course.

All in all, the day was turning out to be surprisingly productive and peaceful, even if he had to deal with listening to Tommy ramble on and on about whatever topic entered his mind. Techno was surprised to find himself actually listening more than he thought he would, occasionally chiming in with his own point or teasing the borrower. It was a welcome change after the excitement of freeing Carl.

A change that he knew wouldn’t last. Peace was an unfamiliar concept to his family, chaos was naturally drawn to them. Funnily enough, it was a trait that Tommy seemed to share. Speaking of the borrower…

“You’re just jealous that Carl thinks I’m better than you!” Tommy teased, smugly smirking at the hybrid, who just rolled his eyes and shook his head. “He knows how great I am!”

“I just think it’s pretty funny that you don’t realize your greatness,” Both the term and the heavy sarcastic tone had Tommy’s smile turning into a disgruntled frown, but Techno wasn’t done yet. “Is resulting in you getting exploited by a horse.”

“He’s not exploiting me!” The borrower objected. “We’re buddies! Best buddies! For someone who’s so smart with all his fancy words, you don’t seem to get it!”

“Oh, trust me, I get it completely.” Techno drawled, sparing a quick glance over at Carl. For as challenging as it was to pinpoint the horse’s emotions, he didn’t miss the cunning gleam in Carl’s eyes.

Suddenly, a screen popped up beside the hybrid. Tommy jumped back in alarm, nearly falling off the fence he was perched on. Fortunately, Carl quickly helped him resettle himself with a quick nudge and an exasperated sounding snort, as Techno turned his attention to the messages he had just received. Messages from Philza.

Shit.

He cursed under his breath as he began tapping away at the screen, ignoring the curious looks thrown his way by both the borrower and the horse. “Fuck, I forgot about Phil.”

“The fuck is Phil?” Tommy immediately asked, running along the stable’s fence as he tried to keep up with Techno’s strides. “And what’s with that screen thingy? You sending messages to any girls? Looking for any local hot women in the area?”

Naturally, his questions went unanswered as Techno continued mumbling to himself, something about bees and farms, leaving the borrower more than a little annoyed. Not wanting to be left behind, both literally and in terms of the conversation Techno was having with himself, he quickly came up with a plan to keep up. A plan that relied on a rapidly closing window of opportunity.

So, Tommy made his move.

He did not bother trying to get the hybrid’s attention and instead sprinted towards the end of the fence. The moment he reached the edge, he bent his knees and jumped.

For a moment, pure fear filled him as he lunged through the air, refusing to look downwards and instead remaining focused on grabbing onto the swaying braid in front of him. He could feel his heart pounding as he got closer, and closer, until-

His hands made contact with pink hair and he immediately held on as tight as he could. He crossed his ankles, locking his feet together, as he took a moment to catch his breath. He felt all sweaty and jittery, the lingering hints of adrenaline running through his veins. Once he finally felt calm enough to move, and his hands stopped shaking, he slowly started climbing up the long braid.

At this point, Techno had made his way into the cabin and was rummaging through the chests. He was completely unaware of the borrower climbing up his hair until he felt a particularly harsh tug at the back of his head followed by the sounds of Tommy cursing.

“What the fuck, man?! You nearly left me behind!” The borrower exclaimed as he heaved himself over the edge of Techno’s crown, flopping into the pink hair. He could still feel his heart racing from both the dangerous climb and the terrifying jump, but he also felt badass.

He knew of no other borrowers that could brag about such an achievement and, despite how out of breath he was, he found himself smiling as he lay sprawled out on top of the hybrid’s head.  

“Sorry.” Techno said, sounding not at all apologetic as that screen appeared once more. “Figured you could use the exercise with those twiggy legs of yours-”

“And here he goes again! Big, scary Blade acting all mean and stuff! Gotta keep up that tough guy act!” Tommy grumbled while waving his hands in the air dramatically.

He heard Techno let out an amused snort at his antics, making a grin appear on the borrower’s face. There was something satisfying about seeing a positive reaction to his antics for once instead of being scolded or told off. For as dangerous as the hybrid could be, Tommy had developed some trust towards him.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to make Techno suffer for almost leaving him out in the cold. Revenge was in the cards, and he refused to miss this chance.

“... You know it’s okay to look up hot old men in your area too right-”

Tommy’s grin grew as he heard the strangled wheeze escape the hybrid, and he threw his head back and cackled. Flopping back into the soft, pink hair he rolled around as he laughed and nearly smacked into the crown surrounding him.

“You’re horrible, and your jokes are cringe.” Techno grumbled. “Phil is my-”

What words could properly describe the connection forged between them? A pact sealed in bloodshed, violence, and a level of comprehension that far exceeded anything he had ever known in his life.

The look of understanding in Philza’s eyes. A grounding voice, a source of stability in a crimson sea of death and loneliness.

A mentor, a savior, a-

“... Dad.” He finally settled on, figuring it would be the easiest way for Tommy to understand what he meant. “He’ll be here, soon.”

“What?!” The borrower squawked, his previous amusement fading and quickly being replaced with dread. He stood up, gripped the edge of the crown, and looked down into Techno’s face. “Y-You have to tell me these things! We’re roommates! And you have a dad?!”

“To be fair, he was supposed to visit a couple days ago, but then Carl happened.”

“That doesn’t explain anything!”  

A brow was raised at the shout, Techno easily picking up on the anxiety that made the kid’s voice crack and left him trembling. It was bizarre seeing Tommy so openly terrified, and at the thought of meeting Philza no less.

Philza Minecraft, who had the unfortunate habit of picking up any homeless kid he found on the street and giving them the shelter and support they so desperately craved.

Even if he occasionally left for long periods of time...

His ears twitched, the distant sounds of Wilbur’s shouts and Phil’s pleas for him to calm down ringing in his head. He glanced upwards, eyes meeting the wide, terrified stare of the borrower, and felt the neutral look on his face soften. He didn’t like the idea of the kid being scared, in general and of Phil, and it just felt… wrong.

It felt wrong for Tommy to be afraid of anything. For his arrogance and loud nature to become so quiet and muffled. To see that spark in his eyes dull.

“There’s nothing you need to be worried about-”

“Easy for you to say!” Tommy interrupted with a scoff. “You’re you! You’re all tough and mehmehmeh look at all these swords and potions I’ve got! You don’t have to be worried! You don’t have to be scared! You…”

His words trailed off with a sigh and he braced himself against the edge of the crown, eyes shutting. “You don’t know what it’s like to have to be scared of everything.”

No, Techno didn’t know anything about what it must be like to live at such a diminutive size, although he was familiar with the fear and struggle of trying to survive.

Scorching hot air, bubbling lava. Frantic running and a gold sword clutched tightly in his hands-

Perhaps that familiarity was why he found himself speaking up, repeating the words that had been spoken to him years ago.

“I won’t let anything hurt you.”

The declaration that had slipped out of Techno left the duo frozen and silent, each contemplating the meaning behind his words. While the hybrid was mentally berating himself on making such a claim, not that he couldn’t easily fulfill it, the borrower’s eyes snapped open and he looked down, meeting Techno’s gaze once more. He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, and spoke up.

“... Really?”

He hated it, hated how childish and weak he sounded, but at the same time he craved reassurance and wanted to know that he would be okay, that everything would turn out okay.

He just wanted to know that he’d be safe.

Techno nodded, unintentionally jostling the borrower around a bit as he struggled to figure out how exactly to word what he wanted to say. Eventually, he settled on a simple. “Yeah, really.”

A moment of silence passed, then two, and then-

“Okay,” Tommy relented, letting out a quiet sigh and nodding. “I trust you, Blade.”

“Wait over here for now. You’ll warm up to Phil pretty quick.” Techno suggested with a knowing tone in his voice as he plucked the borrower off the top of his head and carried him over to the table. Even as Tommy scampered across the surface to duck behind a book he had left out, fear and uncertainty clear in the kid’s eyes, he knew those feelings would vanish soon enough.

Phil had a way with people that he could never hope to comprehend, a skill that had come in handy when they had first met all those years ago in the scorching heat of the Nether. A skill that had equally come in handy when a grungy child carrying a broken guitar had been found rummaging through the trash.

Instinctively knowing how to soothe them and their worries, to calm their fears.

So, despite the anxious looks that were sent his way, he walked over to the front window and waited.

Tommy honestly had no idea what he expected Phil to look like. Techno had given him no information whatsoever, the prick, and the only thing he knew was that Phil was his dad, which meant they probably looked similar?

At least he now knew that he had gotten one of his first jokes about Techno right.

Simply put, it was only when he caught sight of the short, blond man entering the cabin that he realized Techno was adopted, or was most likely adopted. They didn’t seem to have anything in common based on their appearances, other than the fact that both of them looked to be fond of capes since Phil was wearing a long, black cape that stretched towards the floor.

Funnily enough, it was pretty stiff for a cape. There was none of the cool flowing he had grown used to seeing, but maybe that was because of the cold.

Anything would freeze out in the open tundra, including capes.

However, his assumption that Phil and Techno were both just cape obsessed fashionistas was quickly proven false when the newcomer’s cape moved. He heard something that sounded like the rustling of leaves on a windy day and watched in awe as the cape seemed to expand and open up, breaking into two separate parts-

Wings.  

“You’ve got wings!” The borrower exclaimed, ducking out from behind his hiding spot and pointing at Phil. Both hybrids, assuming Phil was a hybrid of some sort, immediately turned to face him. He was more than used to Techno staring at him, all analytical and like he wanted to figure out everything about the borrower, but Phil was-

Different.

Where Techno’s eyes were cold and hard, Phil’s carried a warmth and softness within them. Even the smile on his face was gentle and, for some reason, helped soothe the lingering anxiety Tommy felt. It was a look he had seen addressed to many children back at Borrowton, but never to him. From that expression alone, he immediately knew one thing.

Phil wouldn’t hurt him.

“Hello there.” The winged hybrid greeted, taking a step closer to the table but still keeping his distance. “Didn’t know someone got a roommate-”

“Infestation.” Techno quickly corrected with a snort. “I didn’t put out an add or anything. Roommates suck.”

“Aw, it’s okay to feel lonely, Tech-”

Tommy watched as the duo started bantering back and forth, Phil continuing to tease Techno while the other hybrid responded in kind with his own barbs and jests. It was weird seeing him be so openly social, and for once in his life he found himself speechless.

That is, until Phil’s eyes landed on him yet again.

He didn’t stiffen up, nor did he try to hide from the winged man’s gaze. He instead held it and waited to see what would happen next, immediately being surprised when Phil sent him that same gentle smile from earlier.

“It’s nice to meet you, mate. I’m Philza, but you can call me Phil.”

“Tommy.” He mumbled, voice barely loud enough to be heard.

He felt so out of his depth in this new situation, everything was moving so fast and he had already possibly befriended someone else? The kind look in the winged hybrid’s eyes certainly made it seem like he cared, which would imply that friendship was not far off, right?

“So, is he joining us?” Phil asked, turning to Techno and in turn missing the confused look that crossed the borrower’s face.

“Joining? What’s going on?” Tommy piped up, his curiosity helping him find his voice. “You two going out somewhere?”

“Phil and I need to make some farms.” Techno explained. “A bee farm and a turtle farm, but we need to gather the resources first. I wasn’t planning on you tagging along, but you can if you don’t bother Phil.”

Asking Tommy to behave was out of the question, he understood how excited the kid could get and in turn how forgetful and unobservant he could become. The bare minimum he could hope for was for Tommy to reign in his excitement just enough to stop him from bugging Phil and distracting him.  

Like he expected, Tommy’s eyes lit up in excitement and he eagerly nodded. “Fuck yeah! We headin’ out now? I can go grab my stuff-”

“The sooner you get ready, the better.” Techno interrupted as he shooed him away. “So, scram and get ready.”

As Tommy rushed into the nearby borrower hole that he had thankfully made the day prior, his excited rambling cutting off not long after he disappeared from sight, Techno pointedly ignored the smug look Phil sent his way.

“So, adoption-”

“Eugh, cringe.” Techno immediately interrupted, not wanting the conversation to progress any further. “Taking in an orphan? Providing emotional support? Couldn’t be me.”

“Nice to know what you think of me.” Phil quipped. He let out a laugh when he saw the concerned, almost horrified, look that crossed his adopted son’s face. “Relax! Relax, it’s just a joke, mate.”

His amusement faded and his smile took on a more concerned edge as he looked Techno over, eyes landing on the familiar blood red cape. “You’re more high strung than usual. Did something happen?”

“You mean aside from the nuisance that invaded my home?” Techno dryly retorted. “And I’m…”

Lie, lie, lie-

“... As good as I can be.” He answered, voice growing quieter. A quick inspection of his father had him noticing the dark shadows under Phil’s eyes and how dull his feathers were compared to their typical luster. “You?”

“Eh, I’m holding up.” Phil shrugged. “L’Manberg’s been busy, keeps me busy too.”

The look of disgust and annoyance that crossed Techno’s face got a laugh out of the other man. “You still got something in mind for them, mate?”

“A plan, and some trips to the Nether.”

“Nice, tell me if you need anymore help-”

One of Techno’s ears twitched and he glanced over at the borrower hole, a clear sign that their conversation was finished for now. Together, they both watched as the cover to the hole was moved and Tommy stumbled out of it, a bag now slung over his shoulders.

He looked… relatively unprepared compared to the two armor wearing and weapon carrying hybrids.

“Is that everything you need?” Phil asked, frowning slightly as he took in the simple bag Tommy was carrying. “No tools?”

“... I have my axe? My grappling hook?” The borrower hedged as he picked up a rather shoddy looking stone axe that had been attached to his belt. “Dunno what else I’d really need, old man.”

Already seeing Phil starting to get all concerned parent thanks to the look on his face combined with the fluffing up of his feathers, Techno decided to jump in and spare Tommy from the mother henning that was about to happen.

… He also stubbornly ignored the faint ache of his heart, unintentionally recalling how Wilbur had given Phil that title and teased him relentlessly with it.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got him covered.” He interjected while striding towards the chest at the edge of the room. “Armor’s still a struggle, but I finished something else up.”

“Armor?” Tommy visibly perked up and stared intensely at Techno’s back. “What armor?”

“Your hypothetical armor.”

The borrower’s jaw dropped while Phil looked more than a little interested, stepping forward and glancing at the chest that was being rummaged in. Techno ignored the both of them until he found what he had been searching for.

Straightening up and facing the duo, he presented the item he had been working on. “I was planning on giving this to you later, but now works too.”

It was a needle. A simple needle forged out of some dark metal that looked wickedly sharp to the touch. It was the perfect weapon for someone Tommy’s size, and the borrower carefully accepted it as it was passed to him. He could see his reflection staring back at him in the carefully polished metal.

Why…

“If you stab yourself I’m taking it back.”

“Wh-I won’t!” Tommy shouted, quickly looking up and glaring at Techno. “I know how to use this! We’ve been practicing-”

“And we’ll keep practicing until you stop tripping over your own feet.”

“Fuck off!”

The winged hybrid let out a contemplative hum as he inspected the weapon. “Why not try enchanting it as well? Fire aspect could be helpful.”

“I’m not giving him something that’ll let him burn down my house, Phil.”

“I bet he would’ve done that by now if he really wanted to.” Phil chuckled while shaking his head. “And you know what I mean. A bit of pain won’t scare everyone off, but some fire could help with that.”

The unspoken a needle can’t pierce through all armor and fire might deal more damage.

Techno remained silent as he thought the suggestion over before eventually nodding. “Alright, I’ll look into enchanting it once we get back. We’re far enough behind on those farms and we need to get them finished as soon as possible.”

“How about you go and get those turtle eggs while I take Tommy to find some bees?” Phil suggested, smiling to himself when he saw how excited the borrower looked. “Gives you a break and splits up the work so we can get it done faster.”

“You sure you can keep up in your old age?” Techno teased. “Make sure you don’t hurt your back.”

The wing that lightly smacked his side along with the exaggerated eye rolling made him feel both warm and cold. The familiarity of the gesture bringing back fond memories, and reminding him that those moments would stay memories no matter what.

That there would always be someone missing from their family, even with the husk that had been left behind.

He could see that lingering grief in Phil’s eyes, too, recalling times that had long since passed. An unspoken agreement passed between the duo, a promise that neither would mention the tragedy that had struck their family while Tommy was around.

Their grief was not something they wanted to share, nor did either of them want to dampen the excitement he clearly felt. So, Phil kept smiling as he replied.

“It’s been a bit, but I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

                                               xxxxxxxxxx

“THIS IS FUCKING AMAZING!!!” Tommy shouted, his voice quickly lost to the wind whipping around him. He heard Phil chuckle above him, and the borrower’s smile grew.

After practically begging the winged hybrid to take him flying, Phil had agreed with some conditions. The first was that Tommy was to be on his best behavior, no trying to jump out of the man’s hands or anything crazy like that. The second was that he couldn’t distract the flying hybrid, but conversations and the occasional excited exclamation was okay. As for the third…

He had to stay warm.

Part of Phil’s cloak had been wrapped around the borrower, blocking out the glacial gale. Gloved hands carefully cupped Tommy close, keeping him tucked against the winged hybrid’s chest. It was surprisingly cozy, and more than once he had zoned out and found himself unintentionally cuddling up to the man carrying him, listening to the steady beating of the powerful wings that made him soar through the air.

He wasn’t as warm as Techno was, but he doubted anyone could match the amount of heat he seemed to give off.

He was more than a little surprised at how quickly he had come to trust Phil, especially in comparison to Techno. While it had taken him some time to warm up to the pig-like hybrid, an experience that he was certain had been mutual, with Phil there had been an almost instantaneous feeling of trust he felt towards the winged hybrid.

It was honestly terrifying when he actually thought about it, how willing he had been to literally put his life in the hands of someone he had met only minutes ago, but at the same time it felt…

Right.

Like a puzzle piece sliding into place, the same feeling he had felt when Techno protected him oh so long ago. It wasn’t something he could explain with words or rationalize in any way. It just… was what it was.

A feeling that left him more hopeful than he had felt in years.

The sensation of descent that left his legs tingling and his stomach flip-flopping was enough to shake Tommy out of his thoughts, and he looked over the edge of Phil’s hands to see the snow covered ground slowly approaching them. A couple careful flaps of those massive wings slowly lowered them until Phil’s feet were resting on the ground.

“We have to do that again!” Tommy said, looking up and sending Phil a wide, excited smile. “It was awesome! And fast! Way faster than I thought an old man would be-”

“Alright, alright, settle down.” The winged hybrid chuckled. “We can’t do that with the bees-”

“Fuck the bees! Them and their queen!”

“But, we can always go flying again later.” Phil continued, fighting to keep down the laugh that bubbled up at Tommy’s words. “Probably not today though. Farms need to be made and all.”

To the borrower’s surprise, instead of being put down on the ground like he assumed, Phil lifted him up to his shoulder. He hesitated for a moment before carefully climbing over and situated himself among the folds of clothes and the side of Phil’s neck.

The man wore layers, and Tommy instinctively wrapped the outermost one around himself, unconsciously letting out a soft sigh as the heat sank back into him. He missed how the wing behind him was raised up higher, blocking out more of the brisk winds.

Phil knew he’d get a cramp at some point, but the last thing he wanted was for the tiny kid to freeze. His clothes weren’t made for the cold, something he’d have to look into later, and it was obvious Tommy had lived somewhere much warmer before ending up in Techno’s cabin.

Yet again, the man found himself wondering what events had led to Tommy winding up in the tundra. Had he gotten lost? Been separated from his family somehow? He didn’t know how much Techno knew about the kid’s situation, and resolved to ask about it once they got back.

Fortunately, it didn’t take all that long before they stumbled on some bees that had been buzzing around in the near empty tundra as they struggled to find flowers. The occasional hive could be spotted between the spruce trees as well, making this the perfect spot to abduct some bees.

The next several minutes were filled with the sounds of cheerful conversation as Phil slowly gathered up the bees and collected their hives. Tommy spent most of his time asking the hybrid about his wings and flying, while the borrower answered several questions about his own people. The answers were never too detailed, of course, just generalized explanations that wouldn’t risk exposing the location of Borrowton.

Despite the conversation bordering on some rather heavy topics, such as Tommy’s obvious lack of home and the fact that he had never heard about hybrids before, weird since he had met two before he had encountered any humans, they were able to steer it away from any risky questions.

In no way did Tommy wish to discuss the pain he had endured back in Borrowton, nor did Phil want to go into the injustices and discrimination that hybrids faced on a daily basis. Both topics were better suited for conversations much later down the line.

Unfortunately, even with his efforts to avoid talking and thinking about his old home, and the best friend he had left behind, the subject reared its ugly head eventually.

Caused by none other than a bee, of course.

It had been an especially curious bee out of the bunch they had gathered so far that spotted the borrower tucked away under a layer of green fabric. His hair had probably caught its attention, the bright blond extra visible thanks to the green surrounding him. Tommy laughed as the bee drifted closer, nearly bumping into him as it tried to inspect him. It was so large, and absolutely covered in fuzz. There had always been something about seeing bees that never failed to cheer Tubbo up-

Tubbo...

A sharp, agonized noise escaped him. Guilt surged through him as he slowly leaned away from the bee, scooting backwards and taking shelter behind Phil’s neck. He felt the man stiffen up before shooing the bee away.

“Tommy, you alright?” Phil asked, voice quiet so he didn’t accidentally upset the borrower further. “Did something happen? Did you get stung?”

“... No, it’s fine.” Tommy replied, pressing the fabric wrapped around him to his face. He could feel the chill that the tears slowly streaming down his cheeks brought on, but he refused to acknowledge them. “M’fine.”

Sensing the sudden melancholy that had taken over the borrower, the winged hybrid decided it was time to leave the snowy tundra. Carefully holding the leads in his hand, he trudged through the snow as the bees buzzed around them. “Let’s get back to Techno and see how many turtles he’s got left.”

“Got left?” Tommy repeated, mood slightly lifting at the change in topic. “You mean hatched?”

“Not exactly, mate. You’ll see what I mean when we get back.” Phil said while gently smiling at him. It was a smile that was shakily returned with one of Tommy’s own before fading a moment later.

The trip back was far more silent than the flight had been with the borrower making no jokes, nor commenting on their surroundings, and Phil not pressing and asking what was wrong. At least he didn’t have to worry about being interrogated and being forced to explain his feelings.

Explain Tubbo…

Returning to the cabin and finding Technoblade patrolling the perimeter of the turtle farm was enough to make that smile return to Tommy’s face and, when the hybrid started freaking out after the tiny turtle disappeared in a pile of snow, the laughter he let out was almost enough to make him forget about the ache in his chest.

Almost enough to distract him from the feelings of guilt that would haunt him for the rest of the day.

Tubbo.

I’ll come get you soon.

I promise.

                                                  xxxxxxxxxx

“This should be the place.” Tubbo quietly mumbled to himself, carefully hidden from sight. So far, he had barely been able to explore much of the expansive… town? City?

Whatever this place was, with all its structures made out of strange materials, it was massive, incomprehensibly large, and it made him worry all the more about how hard it would be to find Tommy in this mess of a place. To make matters worse, multiple times he had been forced to hide as people made their way across the paths.

All heavily armored and carrying shields, swords, bows, or axes.

This place was dangerous, very dangerous, and the sooner he found Tommy and got out of here, the better. The risk of being found was way too high, and what would happen to them after they were found-

No, he wouldn’t think of such things. Wouldn’t dare to think about the fact that Tommy could be dead, dying all alone-

Despite his efforts, such thoughts consumed his waking mind and permeated his subconscious. Ever since Tommy had first been forced out of Borrowton, Tubbo had not slept. Sure, he napped occasionally, but every time he shut his eyes he could not stop himself from imagining what could happen to Tommy when he was out there, all alone. It ate at him, even when he was awake, and left him far less mindful of his surroundings than he normally was.

As such, he was completely unaware of the figure looming over him until it was too late. Distantly, he noticed something blocking out the sun, a shadow falling over him, and it took him a moment to realize that the shadow was not shaped like a cloud-

He whirled around, terror filling him as he saw a pair of grey hands reaching for him, sunlight somehow streaming through them and making them seem… ghostly, as if they were not really there. He quickly stepped backwards, tripping over his own feet, and dropped to the ground. He cringed as pain raced up his wrists from his hands making impact with the ground, but he ignored it and scuttled backwards.

Unfortunately, he was far too slow to escape or find any sort of shelter to escape the towering being that had cornered him. Just as those hands closed in around him, he heard a cheerful voice ring out above him.

“Hello, friend!”

                                   xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Did Phil end up spending an unfortunately short amount of time with Tommy? Yes, but that's fine. He'll be spending plenty of time with another borrower in need of emotional support!

[yolkyeomie]

[blurb] — pairing: hongjoong x gn!reader, word count: 1511, genre: fluff(?)/kumiho au, warning: none

[4:45 pm]: “Hongjoong!” You call for the boy, twirling your keys around your finger as you closed the door behind you. A smile began to stretch across your face as the sound of footsteps could be heard, hastily approaching you and soon revealing the familiar redhead you had been housing for the past few days in your doorway.

He smiled back as soon as he laid eyes on you, slinking over to your side as he spoke, “you were gone longer than expected. What took you so long?”

You lift the plastic bag in your hands, shaking it softly to draw attention to what had been placed inside. Hongjoong’s head tilted slightly to the side as you opened up the bag and rummaged around inside of it. “I went to the store on my way back from work and I found something that I thought might interest you.”

“Interest me?” He repeated, his signature light giggle floating through the air not long after. “Please, Y/N, there are very little things that interest me now that I’ve lived as long as I—“ Hongjoong’s sentence cut short the moment you finally pulled out the object, holding in front of his face expectantly and even rattling the box a little. “What is that?”

“A laser pointer,” you explained, sliding past him as you began to break away the packaging. The boy followed closely behind you, peering over your shoulder curiously as you continued to explain, “have you ever seen those videos of cats chasing little red dots on the ground and walls? That’s what this is, all I need to do is press this button and a laser shoots out in the form of a dot.”

He nodded his head in understanding, his eyes carefully scanning the odd weapon-like object you brought home. “Ah, I see… Wait! I mean— why are you telling me this? Why would you buy a laser pointer when you have no cat?”

“I do,” you respond, turning around and pointing the tip of the laser point at his face. “I have you, don’t I? You’re a fox, so aren’t foxes like…a part of the cat family? They sure act like it.”

“First of all, foxes aren’t a part of the cat family. More closely related to dogs, but they aren’t dogs either so don’t let that myth fool you,” the boy corrected, pushing your hand away from his face a little more attitude than you would have liked. “Second of all, I’m not a fox completely, so don’t acquaint me with a feral fox again. I’m a—“

“A nine tailed fox, a kumiho, I know!” You finish for him, rolling your eyes the moment you realized he was going to lecture you again. He always did this whenever you teased him of his vulpine hierarchy but you couldn’t exactly blame Hongjoong for it. Not only was it within his awfully caring nature to nag and lecture, but the mere fact that you believed him was an entirely different speckle. Any normal person would have just called him crazy and kept walking, but you?

Let’s just say, you have a lot of first hand experience with the foxy version of Hongjoong.

“I get it, Hongjoong, I promise, but I just wanted to see if you’d fall for it the same way cats do.” You clarified, collapsing onto the couch and slouching into its cushions. “I mean, you’re currently in your human form, aren’t you? So maybe you won’t have the same urges a cat would have when they see it?”

He scoffed at the thought, pouting slightly as he stood in front of you. “I’m sorta disappointed in you, Y/N. I’m not some guinea pig you can test on. If you want to play games like this, I’m sure that Wooyoung would love to indulge you in…” Words slowly stopped tumbling out of his mouth, his complaining coming to a halt as he glanced down at his shoulder with wide eyes.

You struggled to cover up the giggles and grin on your face as you pointed the laser pointer at his shoulder, twitching the dot side to side to catch his attention. The boy had completely stopped functioning as he reached towards the dot attempting to tap the red light with his hands before you quickly zipped it away to his other shoulder. He immediately switched hands and tried to grasp at it once again, only for you to move the placement of the dot once more much to Hongjoong’s dismay.

Nine tailed foxes are like cats and chase laser pointers, that’s one thing to remember for the future. Your smile dropped in an instant once you noticed Hongjoong’s hands were stretched out, his nails beginning to take the form of sharp claws as reaching for the dot you had moved.

“Woah, stop it!” You hissed, letting go of the laser pointer and taking a hold of his wrist. “Are you crazy?” The boy gasped as he snapped out of a dream-like trance, registering that you were in fact speaking to him, “what am I going to say to the nurses at the hospital if you end up scratching up your face with these claws, huh? You want to be humiliated by saying you were attacked by a cat and lost?”

“Oh sorry, I didn’t realize...,” the boy quickly apologized, the slight yellow glow of his eyes dying down into its natural brown and the claws morphing back into his human nails. Embarrassed, Hongjoong took his hand away from you and took a hold of the laser pointer you had dropped. “Anyways, throw this out! This is… this is now considered a dangerous weapon and I refuse to let you use it anywhere in this house.”

“This is my house and I make the rules here. You’re just someone who happens to reside here as well,” you reminded him, snatching the laser pointer out of his hands. “Also, isn’t this good information to know, the fact that even a kumiho isn't immune to the fascination of laser pointers? Who knows, this could save my life in the future with other foxes that might try to attack me.”

Hongjoong snorted, almost scoffing at your words as he leaned up against the wall. “Yeah, because they’ll definitely be paying attention to the little red dot on the wall instead of that liver of yours that they desire.”

“Hey,” you scold him, “you never know what will happen. Maybe there will be a naive fox that tries to come after me and gets distracted enough for me to defend myself? The possibilities are endless!”

“The only reason you had even caught my attention with that thing was that I’m not aiming to harm you,” he clarified, lifting his right hand and waving it around in the air. In an instant claws jutted out from where his nails were, the black color of his claws flooding down to the base joints of his hands as if he had dipped it in a bucket of vantablack paint.

Hongjoong only smiled as he took a few threatening steps towards you, instinctively making you push yourself deeper into the cushions of the couch. You knew the boy wouldn’t dare hurt you, he owed his life to you and had even become your friend after all, but the nature of a kumiho was fickle. You were friends, but who knew how long it would take for him to continue resisting the urges that came along with being a nine tailed fox.

“A kumiho in action,” Hongjoong began as he pointed his sharpened claws directly towards where your liver was located, “would be more focused on devouring than playing. Trust me, even the young ones wouldn’t fall for something so small when the prize is right in front them.”

Your breath stopped when he made eye contact with you, the yellow hue of his sinister glare sending unintentional shivers down your spine. Hongjoong isn't just some random cat boy you found in the street, that’s one thing you had to remember. He could end your life right here and right now if he wanted thanks to his inhuman abilities of being a kumiho.

“Oh,” you cleared your throat as you sat up, pointing behind the boy cautiously, “tails. Your tails.”

His expression immediately softened at your words, glancing behind him to catch the sight of his nine tails out on display for all to see. Each tail took up a significant amount of space within the room, you were kinda wondering how Hongjoong could even stand up right with all of them twitching around behind him.

“Sorry!” He apologized, his kumiho features dissipating upon realizing what was happening. Hongjoong shot you a sheepish smile as he waved away the sight from before, pretending as if nothing had occurred just moments before. “I guess I got a little too into it, huh? Whatever, the point is get rid of the laser pointer! It’s not helpful with kumihos and I’m not going to let you play with me like a cat!”

[skylarmoon71]

Eobard x Reader (Flash) - Chapter 12

Warning: Mature content Ahead. From here on out the ratings will be R-18. (Don’t like, don’t read). 

The door closed shut and you sprung to your feet.

"Welcome home!!"

Eobard looked a bit startled to see you standing there. He glared, clearly annoyed that you'd caught him off guard.

"Hmm, it's not fun when it happens to you is it." you snicker.

"Now isn't the best time to test me." he groused.

"Why are you in such a bad mood?"

"I'm not sure if you recall, but this woman kissed me in the middle of the office, then ran off like a frightened little dear. "

"H-Hey I didn't run off!"

You actually did, but it was his fault. When he started touching you it just felt like so much was happening way too quickly. "If you hated it that much, you could have just said so. I may have killed but I'm not so low that I'd force myself unto you." You frowned at his statement.

"Who said I hated it! I was the one that kissed you first you jerk. You think I did that just for kicks. "

He was still standing by you, and you weren't sure what it was he told himself on his way over here, but maybe he was trying to find a way to sabotage this before it could even go anywhere.

"I have no idea what this is, and I can't say that I planned for this to happen, but don't you think maybe it's some kind of sign. What are the chances that the both of us got stuck here. It could have been anyone else, so why me and you. Don't you think there's something bigger at play here."

"I stopped believing in faith a long time ago. Love to. So if you're here to convince me that under all the heinous crimes I've done you've somehow found it in your good little heart to-"

"I don't love you Eobard." his mouth slid shut.

"I'm not naive, I do have feelings for you. I'm not sure how it happened, or even why. But I don't love you."

"At least not yet."

"That doesn't mean that I can't. I already told you, I'm tired of this game we've been playing. You hate me, I hate you, it hasn't done us any good. Even if you don't believe, I think somewhere deep down, there is still a human being worth saving. I'm a cop, so it's my duty to save. So no matter how much you try to push me away and pretend that there's really nothing there, you kissed me back. You touched me. Whether you want to recognize it or not, you feel something for me." You walked over to him, stopping when you were face to face.

"Look me in the eye and tell me you feel absolutely nothing for me, and I'll never bring this up again. "

He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. You just smiled. Reaching out, you ran your thumb over his lower lip, and you could hear the breath he let out, blue orbs marking your own lips. "What's wrong, cat got your tongue." his eyes hardened, and you smirked, leaning forward and silencing any retort he would send back. He inhaled sharply, keeping his hands off your body. You had a feeling that was more for his reassurance than your own. With your lips still connected, you reached over, taking his hand and placing it on your lower back. You could feel his grip tightened, like he was holding back. His other hand wondered, slipping into your hair. You couldn't believe this was all really taking place. With Eobard no less. He was the last person you ever thought you'd have any kind of interest in, romantically that is. You moaned when the hand on the small of your back slid down to your butt. For a villain he sure knew how to kiss. He pulled away when he heard your little sound.

"Where..where does this leave us.." he muttered out.

"I don't know, but I'd really like to find out."

~~~~~~

That night you were sitting on the couch, Eobard next to you as you both watched a show. Even though he was sort of close, he wasn't really touching. Neither of you were paying much mind to what was playing. It was more a way to distract you.

"You don't have to sit so far away, I'm not going to bite you." you mumbled. He glanced at you, and you refused to really look at him. Truthfully, this entire situation was a bit embarrassing. All your time was focused on one cause and now that it was no longer important, you weren't sure how to act or what to say. Relationships, you had very little experience. The last one you could remember was back in high school. 

Eobard shifted closer, and you leaned into his side. "This is better." you whisper. His arm wrapped around your side, and this time you looked up. His hair was slightly messy from your little session earlier, glasses long forgotten. "I still think you're making a huge mistake." you knew what he meant. He was the mistake.

"I don't think so. Believe it or not, I think you've changed a little too. Before I was always worried to be around you for too long, but now, looking at you, I know for a fact that you won't hurt me."

How could he when he was staring at you the way he was now. No anger, or hate. It was just raw emotion. "This is going to be tough, especially with the way things started, but I'm beginning to wonder if being stuck here a blessing in disguise."

"Are you saying you don't want to go back home then, you're comfortable being not only stuck in the past, but also an alternate universe."

"It's not so bad, at least I'm not alone. I still have my friends here. My mom is probably living her life somewhere too. And now I..I have you too.." That caught his attention.

"You're making it increasingly difficult for me to refrain from touching you." you giggled, biting your lip, and his eyes lowered, watching your lips. "I did leave you at the office earlier, so maybe you can. J-Just a little.." you spoke with a bit of uncertainty. Truth is you'd never gone pass maybe a mild make out session with a guy. With Eobard, it was different. You'd never really go from hating a guy to kissing him either. "Have you really never been touched?" your gaze lowered, and you shook your head. "N-No I..it wasn't really easy for me to get close to people. And with all that was happening, there was never much time to have a relationship. I don't do..you know, one night stands."

He could tell.

"How long has it been for you?"

That was an interesting question. In his line of work, there wasn't much room for romance either. Not many people were attracted to speedster killers. "Decades maybe." you nod. Eobard was watching every little movement you made. The way you squeeze your thighs together, the slight quickening of your breath. He'd always been good at reading people. From what he could tell, you wanted to ask him something else. 

"I-If you want to, you can touch me. I-I won't run this time." 

Where did your bravery go? You couldn't tell.

Eobard was starting to make you feel vulnerable. You figured this is what it felt like when you placed trust in someone. You gave them some power. Eobard shifted his position, turning his body slightly to you, and when his hand slid between your legs, your head fell on his shoulder, breath picking up. Your hand fell unto his lap, and you reached over gripping the edge of his shirt. His hand settled right at your center, and even though he wasn't doing anything at the moment, you could hardly get a steady breath out.

"You're this bothered and I haven't even taken off your clothes yet. Are you that turned on by me.." his tauntings were messing you up. You nodded helplessly, and Eobard tugged you forward, pulling you into his lap. Your legs were spread slightly, straddling him. Your face was buried into his chest, just anticipating what he was going to do. Your breath hitched when his hand finally slid into your underwear. You balled your fists, and Eobard chuckled, leaving little kisses along your neck. He stopped right behind your ear, nipping it playfully. You whined, tired of his torture. 

"E-Eobard..I can't take anymore.."

"I can tell, you're so wet.." His finger slid inside you, and you all but choked out a moan. It felt so weird, but great at the same time. You'd read books and heard stories, but real life was very different. Your legs wouldn't stop trembling. "Relax." He coaxed. How could you in this situation. When he felt the tension slowly leave your shoulders, he slipped another finger in. 

"Shit." you huffed out. Eobard was laughing softly at your reactions. "We haven't even gotten to the best part." your brows furrowed at his statement. "W-What do you mean the best-Oh Fuck!" his fingers..they were vibrating inside you.

"Such filthy words, that could get you in a lot of trouble professor. " He didn't let up, and it was literally driving you over the edge. Between moaning and holding unto him like you would pass out, you were lost. Who knew his speed would be so handy in such a situation. 

When he added another finger you were sure you'd frankly die from how good this was feeling. Eobard groaned when you bucked into his hand, and he crashed his lips into yours, kissing you hungrily. This had to be the wildest thing you'd ever done with a man, that was for sure.While his tongue pleasantly assaulted your mouth, his fingers were doing extraordinary things to your body. You had to separate when you felt the knot in your stomach. You were getting close.

"E-Eo.." you could barely get his name out. He must have understood, because he angled his hand differently, and your eyes shot open as you screamed out your release. You could feel it coming in, wave after of wave of pleasure. It took you a full minute to come down, and when you finally did, Eobard's fingers slowly slid out. With a low moan, you slumped unto his body. Defeated.

"Did I make your first experience a memorable one." you just hummed, you were still trying to gain control of your body. You would never forget this. Not ever.

[pawthorn]

Eyes of Nein

Six vignettes of reactions and conversations revolving on the strange connection between Lucien and Caduceus Clay.

Part 4: Fjord

Fjord was not observant by nature.

He didn't pick up on cues, and he was rarely the first to see or hear or smell something in the environment. Even when he tried, the ability to focus on such details often eluded him. It had gotten him into trouble a lot when he was younger. He missed or misunderstood what was going on around him. Whether walking through a field or working through a conversation, it was the same. He'd trip or tangle, stumbling his way through awkwardly. People looked askance, taking confusion and ignorance as rudeness or malice.

The sea had been his escape. Sailors didn't care about nuance and nicety; they cared about hard work and a job well done. So he worked. With a smooth, consistent deck under him, he memorized the position of each sheet, learned to tie knots with practiced efficiency. The clear, unchanging columns of the ship's manifest were another comfort. From the ship's cradle of rules and regularity, he learned to face the wild, unpredictability of the sea, and of life. He learned to act, to control the situation. With power and momentum on his side, he didn't need to watch it listen as closely. He navigated life like a blade, cutting through and dealing with consequences as they appeared. It worked for him.

But sometimes, he missed things.

Important things.

"Fjord," Beau called, pulling him aside as Caleb prepared the Tower for the evening. The Nein would be sharing it with the Tomb Takers that night. None of their group liked inviting them in, but they were all exhausted from a brutal day in the tundra. And the Tomb Takers weren't going to take "no" for an answer.

Fjord glanced around as he and Beau stepped away from the group. No one seemed to be watching.

"I need you to do something for me," she said, eyes roaming the area around them. "I'm gonna be.. uh… busy. For a little while. After dinner. So-"

"Busy with what?"

"It's fuckin' private," Beau growled. "And not the point. Just listen. I need you to keep an eye on Caduceus. I've got a bad feeling."

"What?" Fjord's stomach swooped as he looked toward his friend, who was watching the snow drift around them. He seemed alright. "What do you think--"

"Finished," Caleb said as the shimmering doorway of the tower appeared. Fjord and Beau's small moment of privacy evaporated.

"Just do it, okay?" Beau said, and headed for the door without waiting for acknowledgement.

What. The. Fuuuuuuck?

Fjord forced the concern and confusion from his face and followed the others inside. He would do as Beau asked, though he didn't understand why she had asked it of him. What danger did she expect inside the Tower, and for Caduceus specifically?

Fjord kept his eyes on his friend as they all shared an evening meal. He seemed alright to Fjord. He ate as much as he normally did. He listened more than he talked, as usual. Fjord had no idea what the problem might be. And he couldn't ask Beau, who disappeared mid-way through their meal.

Members of both parties began to wander out of the dining hall as they finished eating. Eventually only he, Caleb, and the two Clerics remained.

"Well," said Caduceus, stretching and yawning. "I suppose it's time to settle-in for the night."

"I need to visit the kitchen first," Jester said, rising. "I have something special in mind for breakfast, and I want to make sure the cats get it just right."

"We probably should stick together, in pairs, just in case," Caleb said. "Fjord, you could stay-"

"I'll go with Caduceus," Fjord interrupted. "There are entirely too many cats in that kitchen for my liking."

Caleb looked surprised, but seemed to accept his reasoning. He bid them a quick goodnight, then hurried after Jester, who was halfway to the kitchens already. Fjord and Caduceus made their way to the center of the tower, then up, in companionable silence.

"Night, Fjord," Caduceus said once they reached his floor, halting his ascent and walking toward his room with a lazy, backwards wave.

"Good night, 'Deuces," Fjord said as he drifted upward to his floor. He hesitated on the landing, watching from above as Caduceus entered his room and shut the door behind him. Fjord shifted in place, uncertain how long he needed to keep watch. If he knew what Beau was worried about--

The sound of a door opening below, beyond his range of vision, halted his thoughts. Instinctively, he sunk into the shadows, eyes still trained on Caduceus door.

He had a perfect view of Lucien approaching it.

Fjord tensed as the tiefling knocked. After a few moments, the door opened, and Caduceus stuck his head out, looking surprised. Fjord's pulse hammered in his ears while the two of them exchanged a few sentences. Distance ate up the words, but their tones and postures seemed non-combative. Even so, Fjord was ready to summon the sword and spring to his friend's defense.

Then, still looking perfectly at ease, Caduceus stepped aside, let Lucien in, and shut the door behind them.

Oh. Shit.

For a moment, Fjord just stared, mind sputtering in shock. Then he launched himself down to the floor below, hurrying to the door. He raised his hand to knock, then reached for the door handle instead, then stepped back, running a hand over his face. Quietly, he pressed his ear to the door. He couldn't hear anything from within, not over the loud and rapid thumping of his own heart.

Dammit!

Now he knew exactly why Beau had asked him to watch Caduceus. She had known something like this would happen. But Fjord had been too slow, and now, their friend was alone with Lucien. And Fjord had no idea what to do about it.

Part of him knew Caduceus could take care of himself. When push came to shove, he could defend himself, heal himself. And he was good at reading people. Surely he wouldn't have invited Lucien in if he sensed danger. At the same time, Caduceus could be shockingly naive at times, and none of them really knew what Lucien was capable of.

Well, that wasn't strictly true. The memory of finding Vess' body flashed behind his eyes. For an instant, he saw Caduceus there instead- tall form crumpled on the floor, pale and cold, frozen look of fear in his eyes, and rivulets of blood stark against the soft fur of his face.

Fjord shook his head to clear the image, fighting against the cold dread building in his stomach.

No, he couldn't just leave Caduceus in there.

But should he burst in? Knock and make up some excuse to enter? What if that made things worse? Fjord knew he might not be able to help Caduceus on his own. But there was no one around, and he couldn't risk leaving--

The light patter of paws nearby interrupted his thoughts. He turned and saw three cats walking one of the elevated paths, carrying an assortment of foods as well as a bottle of something.

"Hey!" he whispered up at them, as loudly as he dared. "Come down here, one of you! I have a task for you!"

They gazed at him inscrutably for a long moment. Then, one of them gave an irritated mew and unloaded its burdens onto the other two. As the over-loaded pair continued on their way, the raminaing cat scrambled down the scaffolding to sit before Fjord, tail twitching.

Fjord knelt, ignoring the way his nose began to itch.

"I want you to go into that room," he said, pointing to Caduceus' door. "There are two men in there. One is purple. With horns. If he hurts or threatens the tall man, or if the tall man looks afraid or in trouble, come out of there yowling as loud as you can. Then, go downstairs and find Caleb, get him and Jester to come. Try not to be seen. Hurry!"

The cat sneezed at him, then pranced to the cat-door and disappeared inside.

Fjord stood there, tense and ready. A minute passed. Then two. Fjord began to pace, quietly. He glared at the door, clenching his fists in readiness as time stretched on and his mind raced.

Why would Caduceus let Lucien in in the first place? He dismissed the question almost immediately. Caduceus 'it's always worth making friends' Clay had thought it would be rude to keep the Tomb Takers waiting. Fjord would have been more surprised if Caduceus had shut the door in Ludien's face.

A better question was, why had Lucien singled out Caduceus? If it was an attack, it made sense to start with their most powerful healer. But if that was the case, why go alone?

Time dragged on.

What could they be talking about in there? Was Lucien needling Caduceus for information? Trying to manipulate him? Fjord couldn't imagine Lucien finding success with either attempt, but it made Fjord angry, nonetheless.

Caduceus was kind, almost to a fault. He cared for people, believed in them when they couldn't do it themselves. That care, that belief had helped to save Fjord, quite literally. Phrases floated through his mind... It takes a particular flavor of goodness… That's what a champion is… Proud to know you… Caduceus thought so much better of him than Fjord had ever thought of himself. It was part of what made Caduceus who he was.

To think of Lucien taking advantage of Caduceus' nature, to imagine him trying to use Caduceus for his own ends… It made Fjord's chest flare with the heat of righteous anger, compelling him to move, act, protect. But all he could do was wait.

Finally, he heard movement from within. He ducked into the shadows as the door finally swung open. Lucien walked out as Caduceus stood in the doorway, looking no worse for wear. They bid each other goodnight briefly, the door closed, and Lucien stepped away. As he turned, Fjord saw the cat he had sent to spy on them, cradled in Lucien's arms, purring contentedly, and looking utterly unrepentant.

Lucien turned to look directly at Fjord, cocking his head slightly.

"You could have joined us, you know," he said lightly. "Instead of moping outside like a puppy that lost its bone."

Fjord stepped forward, crossing his arms, trying to relax the tension in his neck and shoulders.

"Seemed like it might be a private conversation," he said. "Since you sought him out alone. In his room. After most everyone has gone to sleep for the night."

"Is that what it seemed like?" Lucien smiled, scratching the cat's ears. "Why then did you wait outside at all? Why send this one in to watch us?"

"I don't know," Fjord said. "Maybe because the last time you were alone with someone of my acquaintance, they wound up dead."

"You think I'd kill your friend," Lucien said, moving closer. "In the middle of the night? When we'd just agreed to travel together."

"I don't know what to expect from you," Fjord said. "But no. I suppose if I truly thought you meant to harm him… well. Tonight would have turned out very differently."

"I don't doubt it," Lucien smiled.

"So," Fjord said. "What were you two talking about? You were in there a while."

"Oh, this and that," Lucien said, strolling closer to Fjord, still petting the damned cat. "I like interesting people. Curious people. Your friend seems to as well. He's quite the conversationalist."

"He does have a way with words," Fjord agreed, forcibly willing himself not to back away from Lucien. There was something just… off about him. He was so similar to Molly, which made the edge of wrongness to him all the plainer.

"True," Lucien said. "I'm very interested in his way of speaking. For example, have you ever noticed he doesn't use the word 'we' when he talks about your group? That he says 'they' instead?"

"No," Fjord lied. Because of course he had. He didn't understand why Caduceus did that. He didn't like Lucien bringing it up now.

"Well," Lucien said, with a knowing twinkle in his eye. "I noticed. That's the sort of thing that catches my attention. It's one of my interests, you see."

"What is?"

"Lost souls," Lucien said. "People looking for belonging. And purpose."

"Sorry to say, that isn't Caduceus," Fjord said, heat building in his chest again. "He has friends, he has family, a place with us and a purpose. There's nothing you could offer him that wouldn't be a step down from what he already has."

"Well," Lucien said, with that same infuriating grin. "That being the case, my talking with him, explaining what I have to offer, that shouldn't bother you at all."

"And yet, I find myself bothered," Fjord stepped closer, meeting Lucien's eyes, letting the weight of his gaze carry his meaning. "And, I would consider it a personal favor if you would leave my friend alone from now on. Or I might have to show you and your friends just how bothered I am."

Lucien cocked his head to the side.

"Is that supposed to be a threat?" He said with a chuckle. "Friend, you have no idea what you're dealing with here. There are forces at work right now, bigger than any of us. Like it or not, your friend is smack in the middle of it, and I'm not going to ignore that. You'd best get used to that idea."

"I don't care what forces you claim to understand or work for," Fjord said, reckless anger boiling up from his chest. "If you put him in danger, I will end you. We will end you. He is not alone, and if harm comes to him because of you, we will deal with you, and I will personally ensure that no resurrection can bring you back again."

Lucien looked at Fjord for a long moment, absently scratching the cat.

"See, now that sounded like a proper threat," he said at last, eyes gleaming. "And I'd expect nothing less from you. You- only seeing what's right in front of you. No mind for possibilities, or potential. Folk like you have their uses. But without the proper guidance, you are painfully oblivious. Take comfort in the fact that, if I do decide to do anything to your friend, you won't even notice until it's far too late to stop me. So--"

"Is everything alright?"

Caleb's voice broke through the red haze that had all but overtaken Fjord's vision. He and Lucien turned to see the wizard and Jester as they finished their ascent from the floor below and stepped onto the landing, looking wary.

Lucien stepped back from Fjord easily, draping the cat over his shoulder.

"We were just discussing how nice it is to be traveling with new friends," he smiled, breezing across the landing. "Thank you again for your hospitality. Sweet dreams."

Throwing a final, mocking smile in Fjord's direction, he slipped into the spare room, door shutting gently behind him. With some effort, Fjord unclenched his fists. He knew Jester and Caleb were both looking at him, expecting an explanation, but they seemed far away at the moment.

Fjord stared at his hands. They were shaking. There were small crescent indentations in his palms, left by his fingernails. He had been moments from summoning the Star-Razor. To what sane end, he couldn't say. But he still wanted to. He wanted to wipe the smug smile off of Lucien's face, to make him regret his words.

Fjord wanted to protect his family.

But he hadn't.

He hadn't noticed Lucien's intentions toward Caduceus. He hadn't been aware of the danger. He'd done nothing to prevent Lucien from getting to his friend. And he'd done nothing to keep Caduceus safe moving forward.

"Fjord," Jester was saying. "What happened?"

"Nothing," he said, striding to the center of the chamber. "Nothing at all."

He needed space, or he was going to let his anger boil over and scald someone who didn't deserve it. He paused before ascending.

"Just, keep your guard up," he said, glancing toward Caduceus room. "And put the guest room on a different fucking floor."

Read Part 1

Read Part 5

[pufflyhallows]

Picks & Pens (I)

Hi! This is a brand new series for our boy Sirius Black. It’s a rockstar!au in modern days. I really hope you like it, I had the idea over a year ago and had a little something in my drafts but only now got to write it the way it deserves. Enjoy!

Chapter One: Press

Warnings: language

Word count: 1,7k

a/n: I know nothing about press or the music industry, so forgive me for any mistakes lol

Sirius Black. What a perfect name for the typical arrogant and condescending rockstar who had just been declared artist of the decade by the magazine you worked for. Unfortunately for you, he also happened to be your ex-boyfriend.

You two had met in high school, way before he got famous. He already wrote music back then, you being one of the very first people to ever listen to it. Some of those songs were quite big hits today and you genuinely liked them, but that didn’t mean you liked him. At least, not anymore. Your relationship had ceased to exist seven years ago. What is it that people say about fame? Oh yes, it changes you.

As you walked past the countless desks in that white-walled office with tall windows, the latest edition of the magazine in hands, you thought about your boss’ proposition. She wanted you to interview the “artist of the decade” for the February issue – it was coming out on Valentine’s Day and she wanted an article about Sirius Black’s muse and writing process. According to her, it was impossible that there wasn’t a girl behind the lyrics of his songs, even though the man had been single for years now. You had told her you’d think about it and answer the next day. Well, today was the next day.

Brenda, your boss’ assistant, was on the phone when you approached her desk. She raised a finger at you as if to say “hold on” and kept talking to the person at the other end of that call. You knew better than to interrupt her, so you patiently waited.

“No freaking way, Rebecca! I told you he was going to the party regardless of what Charlie said! Now, don’t get me wrong, I think you’re much smarter than Mackenzie, but she’s got a point.”

You inhaled deeply, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. Was it naive of you to assume that people only took business calls during business hours?

“I’m wheezing! Literally dying! Oh God...” Brenda giggled. “Well, I gotta go. I’m at work. What? Bitch, you called.”

You watched as she hung up the phone and gathered some loose sheets of paper from her desk, organizing them in a pile.

“Brenda?” you said, catching her attention. “I’m here to see Mrs. Lennox. Could you announce me?”

“She’s busy.”

“Uhh… She asked me to come by her office at ten and it’s… ten.”

Brenda sighed and picked up the phone again, pressing the interphone button. “Mrs. Lennox? Sorry to bother, but Y/N says she’s here to see you. Yes. Not a problem. Okay.”

She hung up and went back to putting her sheets into piles. You raised an eyebrow at her before she finally looked at you and spoke as if it was obvious. “Go in!”

Was it unprofessional to flip off a coworker?

You opened the door slowly and found Mrs. Lennox sitting by her desk with her eyes focused on her computer screen. She looked at you and smiled, gesturing for you to come see what she was working on.

“These photos just came in. Look at him! Isn’t he just so handsome?!”

And there he was. His signature guitar lazily laying between his legs as he had one hand resting on it and the other supporting his weight. He was sitting on a white… box-shaped stool? The background was also white, contrasting to his all-black outfit.

“I think I want these in black and white, what do you think?”

“There isn’t much color in them anyways,” you though out loud.

“Oh…” Mrs. Lennox eyed the entire picture. “You’re right. Black and white it is,” she wrote it down on her notepad.

You kept looking at the photo displayed across the large computer screen. The little shit was handsome, there was no denying that. The problem was what was behind that smirk – arrogance, selfishness and a big big sense of self-importance.

“So?!” your boss’ voice snapped you out of your memories. “Have you thought about our conversation yesterday?”

“I have,” you walked around the desk and sat in front of the older woman as she took off her red cat-eye glasses. “But I need to ask you something first.”

“Go ahead.”

“Will it bring attention to the fact that I am his ex-girlfriend?”

“What do you mean, sweetie? Everyone already knows.”

“I know, but… will it be focused on that? Yesterday you mentioned that it’d be great to have some sort of reunion and that the public would love it. Your idea is an intimate interview, just the two of us in the room and all.”

“Yes...”

“I understand it. I agree that the conversation flows better that way, because the interviewees usually feel more comfortable with less people around and no cameras. However, this is my job. Just my job. I don’t want it to be publicized as a reunion with my ex-boyfriend. This is me, a journalist, interviewing him, a musician.”

Mrs. Lennox looked at you for a while, as if she was trying to read your thoughts. She placed her hands together on the desk and took a deep breath.

“Listen, Y/N. I’ve got to be honest with you. The subject that will be discussed in this interview is interesting, yes. A lot of people are curious about his lyrics. Myself included. But frankly? Anyone can ask him questions about that and put it on a website or a magazine. Anyone. Would it sell? Of course! He’s the artist of the decade, everyone adores him. Now, imagine if the person interviewing him is actually a former girlfriend. And not any girlfriend, but his high school sweetheart. The girlfriend from the very beginning of his career. The person who was there when some of the biggest songs of this entire decade were being written. It will sell like water in the desert, Y/N! This is really good for press.”

“So this is why you picked me, of all people. Press,” you looked down and bit your inner cheek. “I’m a journalist, Mrs. Lennox.” You looked back at her, “I am part of the press. And I know how they will eat me alive after this interview. They will chase me around, paps will hunt me everywhere. The whole nightmare will start all over again. Even after seven years, I still get the occasional question about him. After this interview, though? There will be no peace. And, as a matter of fact, I’m not quite sure if I like the idea of having my personal life used as marketing. God, I’m not even sure if I do want to ‘reunite’ with him.”

“I see,” Mrs. Lennox leaned back on her chair. “What is your answer, then?”

You looked in her eyes, thinking about the last three years you worked for her magazine. She was by far the best boss you’ve ever had. She took you under her wing and gave you enough space to explore your full potential and truly shine. She bent backwards for you several times in the past, helping you build your name in journalism. There was nothing in this world that she could ask that would make you think twice before attending. Nothing, except this.

However, there was a side of you that wanted to see him again. To speak to him again. Hear him talk again. A very curious side of you, that needed to see how he would act around you after so many years of no contact. Would he treat you like every other interviewer? Would he be as self-absorbed and pompous? Would he answer to your questions truthfully? That side of you would die to find out.

And that side won. Along with all the respect you had for your boss and the extra payment she offered the day before, of course.

“My answer is yes. I will interview him.”

Mrs. Lennox smiled widely, but before she could say anything, you added. “Under one condition.”

“Oh, Y/N. What is it?”

“It won’t get publicized as a reunion. Please, Mrs. Lennox, don’t publish it with something like ‘Sirius Black interviewed by former girlfriend’. Just put my name in there and let the press do their thing around it. That’s all I ask. Please.”

Mrs. Lennox eyed you for a while, just like before. She always seemed to crave the power to read minds, maybe even control them. She bit her lower lip and adjusted her wedding ring, looking down at her notepad now.

“Well, it does look good to treat it like it’s so casual. Like you’re still friends and it’s no big deal. You did end things amicably, after all.”

Right…

“Okay, Y/N,” she nodded. “It will be just your name, no mentions of the relationship.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Lennox.”

“Right. Look, Y/N, this interview is very important for us. Please, keep that in mind. I expect a really good show of professionalism on your part. The subject might be delicate to deal with, given your past, but I trust that you won’t leave out any details pertinent to the writing of this article.”

“You have nothing to worry about. The subject won’t be delicate at all.”

You hoped you didn’t sound insulted, because you did feel your ears burn slightly with the insinuation that you might care if he wrote songs about some other girl. You absolutely did not. It’s been seven fucking years.

“Great. That settles it, then. I will look into scheduling this interview now,” she clicked on her mouse and put her red cat-eye glasses back on. “I am predicting it will take place within two weeks from now, so no trips out of town during this time!”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You can go back to work now, sweetie. If anything comes up, I’ll e-mail you.”

“Okay,” you stood up and grabbed your latest edition of the magazine, remembering why you had brought it in the first place. “Oh! By the way, there’s a typo on page forty-five of the January issue. Printing started this morning, so I think there’s still time to fix it before we lose too much material.”

“Y/N! What would I do without you?! Page forty-five, you say?” she immediately wrote it down on her notepad. “I knew I couldn’t trust Henry on this.”

“He’s a good kid,” you shrugged. “He’ll get the hang of it.”

“Right, right… Ask Brenda to call him on your way out, will you?”

“Of course,” you nodded, already feeling bad for Henry’s ears.

The next couple of weeks were going to be interesting, though.

********

[stabletwooriginals]

CHAPTER THREE: Guidance

LittlePip wakes up to a brand new day. Which she never experienced before and we get some fun observations from her about.

I knew this was coming but I’m so relieved LittlePip finds one of Rarities dresses in perfect condition inside a locked chest.

The comment, that the dress is the prettiest and most cheerful thing she has seen since leaving is striking to me. She has had one terrible string of bad luck so far, but there are amazing things still waiting to be found.

Which is undercut somewhat by her discovery of the dead cats hung over where she slept. Absolutely terrifying. That doesn’t seem just for shock value, as it preoccupies our (and LittlePips) mind as she accidentally activates a land mine. Oops.

Watcher making his first appearing here, giving LittlePip life saving advice.

Raiders attack again. And we get LittlePips naive interpretation of grenades through a childhood memory of someone bullying her. This explains to us why she focuses on throwing the granade back next… killing her first pony.

We don’t get a lot of rumination on that yet though, as we get a scene break and LittlePip has managed to sneak out of Ponyville. What are these segmenting parts called, actually? Is it “Dinkus”? That’s a fantastic name.

The retelling of escaping Ponyville sounds like a stealth sequence in any video game, which I find amusing.

After a brief first encounter with a Bloatsprite - the mutated version of the Parasprites from the show - we reunite with Watcher and LittlePip get’s to have her first friendly conversation so far. (You might wanna count Velvet at the very beginning, but that’s up to you.)

“A friend.” I raised an eyebrow. “Okay, a passing acquaintance. But one that doesn’t mean any harm.”

This back-paddling is interesting. Why isn’t the “Friend or Foe” distinction enough here? My interpretation is that FoE takes friendship quite seriously. Since it is adopting “My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic”, in which friendship is the key to change the course of history, just the word “friend” has a lot of worth and meaning that can’t just be thrown around lightly. We don’t know it yet but the core mechanics of MLP, namely friendship and the Elements of Harmony, are still intact in this story.

Finding my apple, I levitated it up. “Thank you. And thank you for the warning about that… thing in the ground.” “Mine.” I blinked. “Y-you want my apple?”

I just want this on here.

We get some info on the Bloatsprite - mainly it’s name and that it is the result of something called Taint. Which, uh– and Watcher’s name. He is not a Spritebot himself, but located somewhere else and just hacks into them to interact with remote places of the world.

Finally he gives vital advice any newbie RPG player can use: Find better gear, learn about the world and make some friends! What? Yes, there it is again. Friendship.

For guidance LittlePip returns to Ponyville. Watcher told her a copy of the Wasteland Survival Guide should still be at the Ponyville Library. Twilight’s home! (Remember, we’re sticking strictly to the first season.)

I was convinced The Wasteland Survival Guide was a reference to an older piece of post-apocalyptic fiction, but nope, it seems to come from the famous quest line in Fallout 3. At least, that is what dominates the search results when I try to google it.

Quite some time is also spend on the horrific decoration, namely desecrated ponies. Mutilated and in pieces, stuck to the walls and hung from the ceiling. These displays of gore are reminiscent of how Super Mutants tend to gather in places with such bloody decorations in Fallout 3. That game reduced the Mutants personality from a faction, as they were in the previous titles, to little more than orcs. Which is a shame, as they mostly exist as canon fodder now. And help us get over killing them, it shows us with lootable sacks of gore that they deserve it.

The raiders here get painted in the same light and fulfill a similar role. As clear bad guys and somewhat as cannon fodder. Their psychology never gets explored much beyond “the Wasteland drove them mad”. They often even have ridiculous cutie marks, implying they have been born into being raiders and that being cruel is their special talent. Which, besides painting the saddest existence, is a shame, since they clearly form groups among themselves, can talk just fine and are/were, by all accounts, just ponies like anyone else. Except, they’re not. They have gone insane, mind you. They live in their own shit and sleep under fresh, dripping intestines. Because they’ve gone mad, you see!

My point with all that is, that the excessive gore in this scene takes away from my immersion, as it raises questions with no answers, and raiders holding slaves and killing ponies (without putting their corpses on display), again, would be fine enough to convince me of their evilness.

Watcher was playing LittlePip a little, as he knew it was also where a couple slaves are kept in cages. One of them is implied to have been sexually assaulted, which - while still despicable - at least makes more sense for raiders to do than the gore fest described earlier.

LittlePip glancing over the bottle caps the first freed slave offers her without a second thought is a fun touch.

Then a fight breaks loose!

I hadn’t just killed a pony–these raiders had given up any right to the title! These were not ponies, they were sick monsters that needed to be put down!

Which implies choice. Something I can’t imagine, choosing to be a raider like this, but fine. I’m sure plenty of FoE side stories go more into detail with raiders, FoE itself seems mostly comfortable portraying them as orcs most of the time. Until it doesn’t. But we will cross that bridge when we get there.

I didn’t realize until that moment, but I was mad! The pure evil of this place had shaken me to the core… and my core was furious!

Regardless of my feelings towards the raiders, Littlepip’s reaction to them has always been inspirational to me. I know, it leads to… problems later on. But joining in with unbridled rage of LittlePip is cathartic in ways I haven’t yet seen replicated somewhere else.

(what do you know, they do shoot with their tongues!)

Figuring out how horses shoot firearms is… it’s own entire discourse I am not very interested in. But it’s fun to see what ideas FoE brought to the table. And it’s even more fun to see high quality concept art of tongue-triggered pistols for the Fallout: Equestria fan game Ashes of Equestria.

The fight is fun, with brisk and clear descriptions and punctuation of humor (“Shouldn't you ponies be smarter than this? You live in a library!”).

LittlePip gets shot but finds the Fluttershy branded medical box. Love that decision. Also our introduction to healing potions – they work like Stimpaks from Fallout, but are actually more believable because magic actually exists!

I was even more pathetic with melee weapons than I was with guns.

Love that RPG progression being set up here.

It was a zombiepony!

Don’t be mean to ghoul Ditzy Doo. Don’t ever be mean to ghoul Ditzy Doo.

I can’t really place the note about why someone might need binoculars in a library. I assume it’s a MLP reference but I’m lost on that one.

After another short lived meeting with mines the fight is over and LittlePip decides to loot the bodies for armor. The bloody, tattered armor. To be fair, it is the best armor she has come across so far and we do stuff like this in RPGs all the time.

She finds bottle caps again and chooses to ignore them this time. Great tease. Love it.

She finds and identifies radigator meat. I’m not sure she should know their name at this point, but whatever. The narrative framing allows it.

Lastly, she confronts the sniper that has been on the balcony of the library the entire time. Here we get a better glimpse at AngeryPip, surprising herself with her audible confidence and malice. It feels like a different character, but since this is portrayed as a extreme situation this seems more adrenaline fueled to me, rather than pathological.

Leaving the library, LittlePip has a combat shotgun, an assault rifle, a revolver (which gets lost in the next scene), a knife and now a sniper rifle. Impressive for this early in the story.

An alert flashed on my PipBuck. Checking it, I discovered that it had labeled the gazebo in front of me: The Macintosh War Memorial.

First, harrowing. Love it. Secondly, I love the inclusion of the gazebo, which has to be the one we can see in the show. It’s cool to see how many elements of the show actually made it in here. Pretty unobtrusively too.

The Memorial specifically names Big Macintosh and his sacrifice. It’s obviously unclear how much of the story was prepared in advance, but the way the war started 200 years ago must have been among that. We get to learn later what Big Mac’s role in the war was.

And we end with LittlePip picking up “The Wasteland Survival Guide. By Ditzy Doo…”

Level Up! New Perk: Bookworm. Kinda nice how we went to the library this time, got a book out of it, the quote at the beginning was “Books! I’ve read several on the subject.”… So, this one feels more than earned.

[seasonofthegeek]

In Dreams, Part 2

The second part of this story was graciously requested by @miraculous-elcie-fanfics through ko-fi. Thanks for the support!

Parts 1, 2:

“Goodness, I’ve missed you.”

Marinette was still blinking away the sleep from her eyes when Chat Noir pulled her to him in a tight hug. She laughed softly into his chest as she curled against him in the large dream bed. “It’s only been a week, Kitty.”

“And it felt like a hundred years,” he murmured into her hair. “I was afraid we’d lost each other again.”

She didn’t tease him because she’d been afraid of the same thing. She’d been so sure she would see him the first night she fell asleep with the mysterious earrings on but she’d woken up with no memory of any dreams. She’d hoped again the next night and by the third night, she’d put the earrings back in the box and hidden them away in her vanity. 

She wanted to tell him about the earrings but she felt a little silly about them now. It was naive to assume they’d had anything to do with him. He wasn’t even real, after all. For all she knew, Alya had left them as some kind of joke present, though she didn’t really believe that.

“Tell me about your week,” she prodded instead, turning her face up to his. 

“It was hard,” he admitted. “My family hasn’t been taking my leaving very well so I’m kinda hiding out right now.”

Marinette propped herself up on her elbow to get a better look at him. “That sounds serious, Chat.”

“I’m not in danger, not really.” He frowned and sat up. “They just need some time to cool off and realize what we were doing wasn’t good. It’ll be fine. I think my cousin might come around soon. We’ve been keeping contact.”

“I wish I could help you somehow.”

“Being here with you does help.” He gave her a lopsided grin but the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “Besides, there’s someone else who’s trying to help me too. At least, I think he is. He keeps talking about a partner who will be able to watch my back. He knows all about my ring and the other Miraculous my family have.” He looked down at his black ring with a slight frown. 

Marinette tried very hard not to think about the earrings and the note that came with them. None of this was real.

Chat Noir’s gloved hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb rubbing gently along the sensitive skin. 

None of this was real, she knew that. It was the mantra she had to repeat to herself over and over, but it felt so...

“Did he tell you anything else about your partner?” she asked, trying to distract herself.

He tilted his head in a amusement. “Feeling jealous, my princess?”

She snorted. “Leave it to me to concoct a fantasy life where I get jealous of someone who doesn’t exist for getting to spend time with someone else who doesn’t exist.”

Chat Noir’s brow furrowed beneath his black mask. “I hate when you say I don’t exist.”

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just...this is hard. I want it to be real, but there’s too much telling me it isn’t.”

He shook his head ruefully. “I don’t know why we fell into each other’s lives like this. I don’t know why we can’t remember details when we wake up or why you only see me like this instead of without the mask. There are lots of things I don’t know, but what I do know is that this,” he guided her hand to his chest to place her palm to his chest, “this is the most real thing in my life. I love you, Marinette. I know I love you and I know that someday I’m going to find you, okay? I promise you, this is real.”

Marinette blinked against the tears stinging her eyes. "That’s some top level romantic comedy climax speech there, mister.” She sniffled. “I love you too, just so you know.”

Happiness filled his cat eyes and his mouth stretched into a wide smile. “You do?”

“Of course I do, you silly cat. I told you that before.” She buried her face against his chest, feeling her face burn. A deep rumbling purr began in his chest and she giggled at the vibration against her face. “Does that make you happy?”

Chat Noir hugged her to him. “The absolute happiest, you have no idea.” He groaned then and the purring ceased with the sound. “I’m waking up.” He tightened his hold on her. “I love you and I promise I’ll see you soon, Marinette.”

She wrapped her arms around him as if she could keep him with her by sheer force of will. “You can’t promise that.”

“I promise,” he repeated firmly and then Marinette blinked and she was looking up at her ceiling.

She blew out a low breath and sat up, catching her reflection in the vanity mirror across her room. She pursed her lips and then kicked the blankets away, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She crossed the room and opened the vanity drawer. The black box was still in the same place it had been since she’d moved it there. She picked up the small folded note and unfolded it carefully to read again. 

“He’s going to need help and he needs you.”

Setting it aside, she lifted the box out of the drawer and opened the top. Her view of the earrings was interrupted by a sudden glowing orb of white and red and Marinette dropped the box in surprise.

“Oh!” A small red creature with large eyes appeared in front of her. “You must be my new holder! Master Fu told me he was working on fixing the earrings so they would be functional again. I hope you haven’t been waiting.” The creature tilted her head back and forth as if stretching her neck. “I didn’t think it would take so long though. I’m Tikki.” She said her name with a chiming giggle.

Marinette swallowed hard. “Wh...what?”

“Oh dear, you weren’t expecting me, were you?” She shook her head. “I’ve told him it’s better to tell holders what to expect. it makes the transition so much easier.” She shook herself. “I’m your kwami.”

“Kwami,” Marinette echoed. 

“Could you put in the earrings please? I can’t stay like this very long without them in use.”

She eyed the kwami warily before reaching for the earrings and slipping them in. Tikki visibly relaxed once she’d done so. “I don’t understand.”

“Should I start from the beginning?”

Marinette glanced around her room as if there would be some other explanation to be found. After a moment, she returned her attention to the creature. “I think that’d be for the best, yeah.”

___

Ladybug yelped as she came to a stumbling halt on a rooftop. The excitement of sailing through the air with the aid of the yo-yo was hampered by her awkward landings. She’d been at it for almost an hour and wasn’t sure she was getting any better. Tikki had assured her it would take some getting used to though so she was going to keep going.

She took in a steadying breath and observed her surroundings. It had surprised her how helpful she’d found flying through the air for clearing her mind. The kwami filled her in on an entire world she knew nothing about but her thoughts kept straying to the Black Cat holder the kwami mentioned. That had to be Chat Noir. It only made sense. 

If it wasn’t him, she was going to chalk this all up to some three-year fever dream and throw the earrings into the Seine. That was the only logical thing she could do.

But if it was him...

Ladybug scanned the horizon once more but she couldn’t find who she was looking for. “Well,” she sighed, readying her yo-yo once more, “practice makes perfect, and I’m not going to stop til I find you, Chat.” With one last look, she shot into the air once more.

___

“The Ladybug Miraculous is back in play now,” Multix reported, tone lazy as he leaned in the doorway. “She seems young and untrained. Shouldn’t be hard to take down.”

Gabriel Agreste looked up from his work, interest piqued. “Did you approach her?”

Multix dropped his transformation as he ventured further into the office and dropped down into a chair. “No, thought it best just to observe first,” Felix answered. “No sign of Adrien either, if you were wondering.”

“He’ll show himself soon. The Black Cat will be drawn to the Ladybug. The Guardian is doing all our work for us.”

“If you say so.”

Gabriel smiled and looked back down at the grimoire he’d been studying. “It’s just a matter of time now.”

Buy me a cherry coke?