#My tablet decided to make me feel like an ao3 author (things happened)

[hypazia]

This is my (very late) gift to @aikuinen (thank you very much for the fun prompt and the patience) for the @palestaticexchange.

[ronwestbreeze]

TO YOU , WORLDS AWAY : PART TWO : CHAPTER SIXTEEN

pairing: jake sully x fem!reader

summary: in which tinkers finally comes home..

word count: 3.4k

author's note: SURPRISE!!! i know it's not wednesday anymore but for my birthday i decided to post chapter sixteen for y'all hehe. hope you guy's enjoy chapter sixteen!

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Norm was the first person you saw when you gained some consciousness back. He was standing over you while using what looked like a tablet to scan your body. And you realized, through your foggy senses, that you weren’t back at the hut.

“Norm?”

Surprised by your voice, Norm scrambled closer to your side, giving you a small smirk, “Hey, Doc.”

The room you were in was moving. And it was too windy, smacking against some of your bare skin. You were breathing but with some help from a tube attached to your mask, even then it was still difficult to breathe in the air.

You furrowed your brows up at him, “What’s going on?”

He looked hesitant to respond, which told you something must’ve happened while you had been temporarily unconscious. The last thing you remembered was seeing Neytiri and then all of a sudden you just couldn’t breathe. If he was hesitant to tell you what was happening, then that must’ve meant you didn’t have a lot of time left.

Instead he said, “We’re taking you back to the Omatikaya, Y/N.”

If you had the energy to scream you would’ve. All you could really do was widen your eyes and snap, “What?! Norm, I already told you—”

“And I listened to you.” Norm said calmly, adjusting the tube on your mask. That was when you finally noticed that the room you were in wasn’t simply moving. It was instead that you were on a ship. You were mid air right now, flying through the night when you should’ve been back at that hut.

“Norm, turn this ship around!” You hissed at him weakly. He sighed at your stubbornness as you scowled at him. “I’ve told you already what I wanted! Just take me back to the Olangi—”

“I’m sorry, Doc.” Norm interrupted you, giving you a look that told that he really wasn’t sorry. “But it’s not my call to make.” When his eyes traveled past your face, you slowly turned your head to look outside the ship.

Flying next to it was an ikran. A few ikrans actually. But the one closest to the ship that you could see was Neytiri. From what you could see, she was leading most of the ikrans and the warriors flying them, never once leaving the side of the ship. It was then you remembered what she had told you before you had gone unconscious.

That she would not let you die. That she would not give up just as you were beginning to. And just by the sheer look of unyielding determination on her face, you knew you were not going to see that damn hut ever again.

When you looked back at Norm, he did little to hide the victorious smirk on his face. You frowned at him but lied your head back down, “You had something to do with this somehow.”

He shrugged, “Or maybe I was right, that’s a realistic possibility.”

“Fuck you, Spellman.”

You didn’t have the energy to fight this. To yell at them, to tell them that it was useless. All you did was let the exhaustion take over once more and lie there, allowing yourself to feel the cold wind whip against some of the bare skin that was still visible underneath all of the bandages. It was still a bit difficult to breathe.

For a moment, you closed your eyes.

“Hang in there.” Norm muttered to you, though you nearly missed it because of how loud the wind was against your ears. You felt his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it. “Hey, look where we are, Doc.”

Opening your eyes, you saw the Tree of Souls from high above. The way it glowed in the night so bright that you could spot it even though you were currently high in the air right now. You spotted more ikrans flying around the ship you were in and a crowd of Na’vi gathered around the tree below. You were in awe of it, nothing could ever change the fact that it was just as beautiful as the last time you had seen it.

You had heard Neytiri’s outcry and the rest of the warriors responding to it before you slipped back into a dazed sleep. It was the type of sleep that you’d go in and out of every few seconds. Like the moment you closed your eyes and then opened them once more, the ship had landed on a hill further away from the Tree of Souls. Norm was rushing around, his mouth was moving but you could barely make out the words.

The next time you opened your eyes, the hospital gown you had been wearing was now gone and instead you were wrapped in long grass. It was colder and a part of you—a silly part of you—wanted to ask for a blanket. But no words left your lips. You were just too tired.

You were being carried the next time you opened your eyes. Neytiri’s voice was somewhere close by.

But you finally came to when you were lying under the Tree of Souls. This way, it was a lot prettier. You could almost understand why Grace was so amazed, so at peace when she had been lying here in your place.

And that very thought made you remember why you were here.

Neytiri was at your side, you finally noticed. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was moving. It looked as if she were praying. Slowly, you reached out your hand to her arm, causing her to meet your gaze.

“Do not move too much.” She told you.

You shook your head, “We don’t have to do this. The last time, with Grace—”

“It will work.” Neytiri told you firmly. Gently, she placed your hand back at your side, placing her other hand comfortingly on your shoulder. “You have survived this long. I would not doubt you now.”

They didn’t want to listen. Both Norm and Neytiri. Or perhaps it was because you were too pessimistic. Grace did say you weren’t always optimistic. But you had to be the rational one at least and manage one’s expectations. That way they wouldn’t be disappointed. That way she wouldn’t cause them any more heartbreak.

“What if it doesn’t?” You blinked away tears.

Neytiri frowned but didn’t respond right away. Instead she took on a thoughtful expression. You saw she was keeping her own tears at bay as well. “Then I am glad we saw you again. I am glad that you would be with Eywa and not alone.”

Before you could question what she meant by “we”, the sound of an ikran landing drew both yours and Neytiri’s attention. Your vision blurred as more tears pricked at the corners of your eyes the moment your gaze had settled on the rider of the ikran.

Jake was fast as he made his way toward the tree. He had changed over the past five years. His body fuller and his hair longer and in thick dreads nearly past his shoulders. Of course, he looked larger next to you considering you were in human form while he was…He was one of them.

God, now you were afraid. Now you were worried that when all of this went wrong, he’d be there to see you die. You didn’t want this.

But god, you were so happy to see him.

Neytiri scooted out of the way when Jake knelt down next to your body, staring down at you in disbelief. “Y/N?”

You smiled sadly, “Jake.”

Jake reached his hand out and gently took one of your smaller ones into his hand. You latched onto him instantly. Just touching him, just seeing him again, it made it so much harder. So much more sadder for you to go through with this.

“You know how this goes, Jakesully.” Mo’at’s voice filled your ears but you could not see her. Jake’s other hand rested against your cheek as the Tsahik continued. “For this to work she must pass through the Eye of Eywa and return.”

He nodded, his hand tightening around yours. “She will.” You didn’t know who he was trying to convince more. Mo’at or himself. Or maybe you. “She is a lot tougher than me,” He chuckled, though his glassy eyes did not match. “She can do it.”

You wanted to hold onto him tighter, you wanted him to stay by your side. But a sudden wave of exhaustion hit you, this time a lot heavier than before. Your fingers weakly let go of his grasp or maybe it was just that he had disappeared from your side. So did Neytiri.

There were voices melded together, almost like chanting. Mo’at’s voice was both close and far away at the same time.

Then the brightest light you had ever seen struck your vision. And suddenly the Tree of Souls was gone, Mo’at was gone, the crowd of Na’vi was gone, Jake was gone…

There was nothing but this light. This alluring light….

When it came to Eywa, you were back and forth with it. Grace admired the idea of Eywa, a spiritual being that all the Na’vi looked to. Worshiped. It was always so enthralling watching them give thanks to her in so many different ways. So intriguing to watch the Tsahik work as both the healer and spiritual leader of the clan. You, on the other hand, had trouble fully believing if this being was truly something to look to. Something to pray to.

You never thought you’d find the answer until you walked into a lab you hadn’t seen in years. It was the same one at Hell’s Gate, which you had no doubt was all in ruins and ashes. None of it should’ve existed. Yet here you were, standing in the middle of it.

That’s when you realized you were standing. That’s when you realized the bandages were gone from your body and instead were the clothes you last wore before the battle. Before you had supposedly ‘died”.

And here was Grace Augustine, standing before you with a cocky smirk, her hands shoved into her lab coat pockets.

“Grace?” You gaped at her.

Grace grinned, “Long time no see, Tinkers.”

A wave of relief and happiness washed over you as you rushed toward her to hug the woman. It felt real. It felt real when her arms wrapped around you in return, it felt real when you buried your face into her shoulder, staining her lab coat with your tears.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” You croaked.

“I’ve always been here, kiddo. You just needed to notice with your thick skull and all.” The both of you pulled away. Grace cupped your face in her hands, wiping the tears away from your cheeks. “Now where have you been?”

“I—”

Grace shook her head and you realized it wasn’t a question that needed an answer, “It doesn’t matter. I’m just glad you’re here.”

Your face fell, “Wait…does that mean it didn’t work?”

You were confused when she began grinning at you and then pinching your cheek, “So you do want it to work! And here I thought you would be a full on party pooper about it!”

“I was being realistic—”

Grace waved you off, “Believe me, kiddo. I know you. I know all about you being realistic. Used to drag you down but you could never see that. Refused to see it actually. Sometimes I wondered if you wanted to be miserable just to be miserable—”

“I did not!” You scowled, crossing your arms.

“Then what’s your goal here, Tinkers?” The playful grin was nowhere to be seen now. Instead, Grace looked at you with a certain care only a mother would have for her child. A serious and stern look that told you there would be no lies between the two of you. “Why are you trying so hard to remain alone even when I know that is not what you want? It’s just me, Tinkers. You can tell me, you know.”

You were quiet and instead of crossing your arms defensively, you took to hugging yourself. You couldn’t imagine being anymore vulnerable here with anyone else other than Grace.

“It just seems easier.” You mumble. “When I’m alone I don’t lose anyone.”

Grace frowned, “Except yourself.”

“That’s a lot less heartbreaking, don’t you think?”

Grace leaned against the desk she had been sitting at before you entered. “I hate to break it to you, kid, but we lose people at some point. It’s just the way life works. We’re always going to lose someone we love.”

“But it shouldn’t have been you.” You whispered. Grace nodded understandingly, her own eyes emotional. “You did not deserve to die. You should’ve gotten more time.”

Grace smiled sadly, “It’s unfair. Which is also the way life works, ma ‘ita.” She then stood and approached you, grabbing both of your arms gently. “But you have time. You have them waiting for you. Jake, Neytiri…” Her smile grew bigger, “and my daughter, Kiri.”

Kiri. Spider had mentioned her. And so did Neytiri. In fact, she had said multiple times that you had to meet her. You had no clue what she was talking about then nor had much time to think about what she had meant. But now that Grace had revealed a question unasked, it all fell into place.

“You have a daughter?” You gripped her arms, “Grace, you have a daughter?!”

She grinned down at you, “Yes. And I have waited long enough for you to finally meet her.” She then brushed back some hair strands out of your face. “But first, I have to ask before you leave. You love Jake, right?”

This question was definitely the last thing you expected from her. While yes, she had teased you in the past about your relationship with him but she had never pulled you aside to have a serious conversation about it. Better to do it now in the afterlife then, you supposed.

“Yes, of course I do.” You said honestly. “But I’m worried it’s too late. I’ve been gone for five years…”

Grace rolled her eyes, “If you really think that, then you do have a thicker skull than I thought.” She then ushered you toward another doorway. “Now go, you’ve got someone waiting for you. And it’s rude to keep people waitin’, Tinkers.”

You frowned and grabbed her hand before she pushed you out, “Will this be the last time I see you?”

“Of course not, kid.” She squeezed your hand. “I’ll always be here.”

That was nice. That was good. Hearing her say that, you knew that it was true.

You smiled, this time without tears. Genuinely. “It’s good to see you, Grace.”

Grace returned your smile, “Glad they finally found you, kid.” You let go of her hand and went toward the door she had guided you toward before. She then spoke up again, “And when you get back to the others, when you meet Kiri, keep an eye on her will you? I think she would like to meet you.”

“I will.” You grinned. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

“Bye, Tinkers.”

“Bye, Grace.”

The forest greeted you next when you walked out the doorway. You felt taller, different, and stronger this time. You looked down at your hands and realized they were blue. Did that mean it was working? Were you already in your avatar body as of now? If so, why were you still here? Who else did Grace want you to meet?

There was a little creek nearby with smaller fishes swimming about. The sun peeked through the tall green trees and the world just felt so alive. So peaceful here. In a way, you wished you could stay in this little area. Watch the sun set and then the day comes once again. Hide away here for the rest of your life, away from the chaos.

You knelt down in front of the creek, catching a glimpse at your reflection in the waters. It too was blue like your hands.

When you blinked, a familiar face appeared next to you in the reflection.

“It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?” Tsu’tey asked as you glanced up to look at him standing beside you.

You shouldn’t have been so surprised to find him here. To figure out that if he was here with you, with Eywa, then he was long gone from the world that waited for you.

Tsu’tey smiled at you knowingly as you stood. “No tears for me, tsmuke?”

In truth, there were none. Either they had all dried out from your brief reunion with Grace or, in some strange way, you had always known that he had passed. You wrote it off as paranoia before but seeing him here now, it only confirmed what you had already known.

“I know you died a great warrior’s death. There is no need for tears.” You smiled back at him. “You taught me that, tsmukan.”

Tsu’tey laughed and pulled you into a hug, one that you returned instantly by wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Eywa watches you. And I know what you think but your time to be with us has not come yet.”

You pulled away and frowned, “You think I will live?”

He nodded, walking toward the other side of the creek. His knelt down, his hand hovering just a feather above the water. The fish swim away from his shadow. “I think you’ve earned a rest. But it is not here. It is with your people.”

“The Sky People?”

“No, you skxawng!” Tsu’tey rolled his eyes. “The Omatikaya is your home now. It is your family. It’s time you’ve come home, tsmuke.”

You remembered the last conversation you had with Tsu’tey before the both of you had gone off into the battle. You remember his words, the brief happiness you had felt. Before you never really could figure out what type of emotion you had felt then besides that happiness.

Now that you were here, with Tsu’tey nodding toward you encouragingly, with Neytiri’s words still flying in your mind, you realized this acceptance had been in your hands the entire time.

All you had to do was see it.

“One thing before you go.” Tsu’tey said as your surroundings began to shimmer. You nodded, waiting for him to continue. “Wear my necklace? I believe you did not get the chance until now.”

You smiled warmly, “I will. Where is it?”

Tsu’tey smirked up at you, raising his chin proudly. “It is with the Toruk Makto. And he is waiting for you.”

The light had come once more. Tsu’tey was gone. The forest was gone. But you were there. Heart racing. Waiting to be brought back.

You were alive. You were alive. You were alive.

When Mo’at had silenced the chants, little Kiri was the first to move toward the two bodies.

“Kiri!” Her mother called in a hushed whisper. But Kiri kept going until she was close enough to the avatar. She could feel a certain energy she could not figure out just yet at the young age of five, but she had known it all of her life, ever since she had been born. It was a part of her now.

And it drew her to this stranger. To this woman her mother had brought back and called her tsmuke. She wondered, despite her young mind, why it was that she was called to this stranger. Why the woman strangely resembled the girl in her dreams.

She did not understand. But she watched and waited.

Her grandmother stood over the avatar, waiting quietly. It was like the whole forest had gone silent by then, all eyes on the two bodies.

It seemed and felt like they waited for a long time. A sad look crossed Mo’at’s face when nothing happened. Kiri didn’t like that. She didn’t like what that meant.

In a small voice, Kiri said to the sleeping body, “Hello?”

Seconds went by before she saw her mouth twitch. Kiri’s little gasp drew Mo’at’s attention back to the sleeping body. Her face twitched again and then her eyelids fluttered.

When you opened your eyes, when you came to life, you were met with wide curious yellow eyes.

She looked in awe when you looked at her. And it was crazy how much you saw Grace in the girl. It was startling and yet comforting at the same time.

You smiled at the girl, “Hi.”

You were alive. You were alive. You were alive.

Finally.

taglist: @luvvfromme @sully-stick-together @jakesullylvr @s-u-t @ssc7514 @cheari @tojigirl @nyotamalfoy @perfectprofessorloverapricot @naityelen @dumb-fawkin-bitch @raggedyoldwitch @nhemmingsf @biooiuygjjgfsrb @thatsenoughformelol @thotd-f1 @beaniebeensbaby201 @theoriginalwife000 @3leni @23victoria @lovesickollie @atxara @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @ladylovegood-69 @lovekeeho @lilithmoon14512 @n7cje @fyfy-world @cleverzonkwombatsludge @goddesslilithmoriarty @itszzmoon @eternallyvenus @bajadotcom @ducks118 @alexandra-001 @sweetllamaparadise

[cowboyemeritus]

Il Suo Campione (Copia/Reader)

Chapter Two

Series Masterlist

Summary: Copia, for some reason, decides to pamper you a bit. (18+)

Content Warning: smut, graphic violence, minor character death

Read on AO3

Notes: Alright, we’re doing this. I’m taking the plunge and making this into a series. There definitely won’t be a set schedule for updates because of how my life works, so we’ll just have to see where this goes. I might also want to do oneshots/drabbles between chapters so I don’t get burnt out (*wink wink*). Feedback is always welcome!

Darkness. Boots thumping like your tiny heart. Through the slats in the closet door, you can just barely see them; four pairs of legs surrounding Daddy, who’s on his knees.

“Please, man,” he begs. “I can get the money, but you gotta give me more ti-“ One of the figures kicks him hard in the chest and he falls back, slamming into the wall. Someone scoffs as he sputters and wheezes. Your eyes begin to sting with tears, but you do as you’re told and keep quiet.

“I do not think you understand, man,” the kicker snarls. There’s a strange quality to his voice you can’t quite place. “You owe us. You are in no place to negotiate.” Daddy’s face twists with anger.

“It’s not my fault the deal didn’t work out!” The man laughs, but there is no joy in it. It’s blood-curdling.

“You think you are clever? That we would not find out about you pilfering our product for your own use? And now you lie to me?” He’s nearly screaming by the end. Daddy looks scared, and presses himself further into the wall.

“Look- Please, I’ve got a daughter. You can’t-”

“We are done here.”

One of the other men grabs Daddy by the hair, wrenching his head back. The silver blade of a knife flashes as it enters your field of view. Before you can even blink it plunges into his neck with a squelch. You want to scream, to throw up, but nothing comes out. The tears in your eyes spill over, hot on your cheeks. The blade is yanked out and blood begins to pour from the wound in Daddy’s neck, soaking into his shirt. He gurgles, a trickle of red running out of the corner of his mouth. The man lets go of his hair and he drops to the floor, twitching. His head is turned towards the closet, eyes meeting yours. For a moment, they are filled with a deep, primordial fear, and then nothing.

“Kid must be around here somewhere,” one of the men says. You feel your chest constrict, and clamp your hands over your mouth to keep yourself from breathing.

“Do not bother,” the man with the strange voice says. “We have more important things to worry about.”

You wake up in a world of hurt.

That’s not unusual. What’s a little weird is that you’re laying on the plush couch in Copia’s living room, a knitted blanket draped over your body. He normally has you taken to your apartment after fights. You remember falling asleep in the car, Copia insisting you rest your head in his lap. One of his minions must have carried you inside.

Did something happen while you were asleep? It’s not uncommon for things to go south after these events, whether it be the authorities catching wind of the operation or issues with an unhappy customer. There have been times where you’ve had to lay low for days, even weeks.

There’s humming coming from the kitchen. Copia, it seems, is alright at least. Your body groans in protest as you sit up, head throbbing. It feels like your tight braids are pulling the skin on your forehead clean off. Your mouth feels like it’s full of sand. On the coffee table, a glass of water and some pills catch your eye. You grab the water and gulp it down greedily, taking the suspicious-looking tablets in hand. As you saunter over to the kitchen, you catch a glimpse of yourself reflected in one of the large living room windows. The bruising has settled under your eyes in dark purple rings. There’s swelling around your broken nose, too, and pink welts decorate the rest of your face. One could easily mistake you for a zombie in this state. Based on the way you’re feeling, you may not be that far off.

You find Copia hovering over a pot, obsessively stirring some sort of sauce. It takes him a moment to notice you standing there.

“What are these,” you ask, holding out the pills for him to see. He gives you a confused look.

“Ibuprofen? What- Dolcezza, what did you think they were?”

You shrug. “From your brother.” Copia blinks, then shakes his head.

“Oh. No.”

Without further question, you pop the pills in your mouth. You have to step around Copia to get to the sink, refilling your glass and taking another swig. The cool water is like mana from heaven.

“Something go down?”

“Not at all. I thought we could, eh, celebrate your victory together.”

He dicked you down, AND he’s making you dinner? Tonight can’t get any better.

You know he has an ulterior motive of some kind, but choose not to question it for the time being. He adds a pinch of salt to the pot and stirs. With a spoon, Copia scoops up a bit of the sauce, gently blows on it, and then offers it to you. You can only sort of taste it with your nose plugged up, but nod in approval anyway. Copia made it; you already know it’s good.

After a quiet dinner, punctuated by the occasional comment from Copia about the fight, he’s able to lure you into his large, luxurious bathtub. The lights in the bathroom are low, a few lit candles providing some extra visibility. Smarmy Italian music plays from a portable speaker on the counter. After all the time you’ve spent with Copia, you recognize most of the songs on the playlist, though you don’t know the lyrics. You can’t help but roll your eyes at the thought that, knowing him, they’re probably all love songs.

The warm, soapy water does wonders for your aching muscles, and you find yourself leaning against his bare chest, eyes closed, as he massages an herbal-smelling shampoo into your scalp. Maybe it’s the wine you had with dinner, but his fingers are like magic. When he passes over a spot near the nape of your neck, a groan involuntarily slips out from between your lips.

“Feels good, dolcezza?” You nod silently, letting your head fall back onto his shoulder. Copia chuckles, withdrawing. For a few tranquil moments, you lose yourself in the warmth enveloping your battered form. The veil of sleep begins to slip over you, your mind wandering into the realm of unconsciousness. When Copia’s hands dip below the surface of the water, the sound barely registers. Once he starts gently caressing your breasts, however, your eyes crack open. Already, a different kind of heat is pooling in your gut.

Copia presses an open-mouthed kiss to your neck, sucking and biting at the tender flesh. Without a doubt, he intends to leave yet another bruise on your body. You shudder, a groan rumbling in your throat. He gives your chest a squeeze and you can’t help but wriggle against him, feeling him hard against your back. With an unusual boldness, your hand snakes into the crevice between your bodies, grasping at his erection and giving it a few pumps. The angle is awkward and you can feel your shoulder protest, but when Copia moans quietly in your ear none of that matters. Your whole arm could snap off for all you care. He pinches your nipples hard and you gasp audibly, giving his cock a similarly firm squeeze.

“Oh, baby.” He’s never called you that before. Something about it sends you into a frenzy. Shifting, you sit up and turn to face Copia, kneeling between his parted legs, the soapy water sloshing around you. Grasping his manhood, you begin stroking him vigorously, hungry for every sound you can pull out of him. He throws his head back and you feel his hips buck into your touch. “Fuck.”

You want to devour him, to bury your teeth in his flesh and leave your own claiming mark. You know he’ll stop you before you can even try, but the desire lingers. Instead, you surge forward, capturing his mouth in a desperate kiss. You have to turn your head at an awkward angle to avoid crushing your nose, knowing your neck will be stiff in the morning. One of his hands finds your core, rubbing your clit in frantic circles, while the other palms at your breast.

An unfathomable amount of time passes like this. You are lost in the feeling of him, and in a moment of pure, unhinged delirium, you bite down on his lower lip. Copia completely falls apart, his cock kicking as he finds his release. There’s a tangy, metallic taste in your mouth, and when he pulls away you can see the tiniest red bulb on his lip. You’re so fixated on it that you don’t realize you’re still stroking him until he hisses, grabbing your wrist.

“Alright,” he laughs, chest heaving. “Let’s not get carried away.”

Some time later, you’re laying in Copia’s bed under buttery-soft sheets. He’s spooning you, one hand on your hip as his thumb traces circles into the flesh. It’s dark and quiet, both of you seemingly lost in thought. You feel featherlight, loose and floaty from the climax he has just pulled out of you. Your heart beats a little faster recalling the way he looked up at you from between your parted legs, a tenderness in his eyes you haven’t seen from him before. For the first time in… you’re not sure how long, you feel something that resembles contentment. It’s a foreign sensation, warm and fuzzy in your chest like the dying embers of a fire.

Suddenly, Copia rolls onto his back, groaning. You prop yourself up on an elbow to look at him, quirking an eyebrow in a silent question.

“My father,” he reveals, draping his arm over his eyes. “I have to meet with him tomorrow.”

So he needed a distraction.

You say nothing, lowering yourself back down. The fuzziness you had earlier is now gone, replaced by a dull sinking in your chest. You close your eyes and try to fall asleep but can’t, stuck on this evening’s events and what exactly this man’s game is.

Once you’re certain Copia is asleep, you sneak back to the couch.

[saundraswriting]

Cosmogyral

I decided to participate in a writing challenge for a great author, Georgie at @bonkywobble. This is the first of two prompts for this challenge. I hope you enjoy it! 

SUMMARY: Cosmogyral: (Adj.) Whirling around the universe. Bucky stops whirling about the universe once the reader enters his life. 

This is being posted on my writing blog instead of my main blog @saundrasays. Please check out my other works if you wish. 

Masterlist // Ao3

Recovery was hard. Shuri and everyone in Wakanda did what they could for him. They were able to somehow fix his brainwaves into being triggerless, but he still had so much trauma to work through that some days he could barely move. There were days that the weight of the world bent his back, his hands were stained red. His time in Wakanda helped him learn how to be human again, caring for the goats and interacting with people, he even relearned his strength. He was able to train and spar and not kill and that did great things for his mental health. He was stable, but not happy. He wasn’t sure what would make him happy anymore.

“Hey, Buck.” A deep voice came through the sparring room. Bucky looked over from where he was working at a punching bag. His eye brightened significantly seeing you and Steve come through the door.

“Y/N! Hey. Good to see you too, Steve.” Bucky smiled, walking over to them. Steve shot Bucky a knowing grin at the enthusiasm but said nothing.

“We came to move you out of basic training, dingbat.” You were rocking back and forth from toe to heel, excitement palatable. “You based all your checks and Shuri and the others gave the recommendation for a return to New York.” You were grinning from ear to ear. You and Bucky had grown close over the events with Zemo and the almost Civil War.

You were one of the few that successfully drove attention from the in-fighting to the bigger problems, also pointed out that the Accords as they were written were terrible. Your involvement led to a peaceful reconciliation and explanation instead of a practical disbandment of the Avengers, much to yours and everyone’s pleasure. You worked closely with everyone to get their opinions and strived to find solutions, one of those was a location change. You suggested a move to somewhere out of sight, fit for training and bonding. No one was against you and as such you were along for the ride to collect one of the remaining members.

“Wait, what? I can go home?” Bucky froze, mouth slightly open and eyes wide. Then slowly, like a sunrise a grin crossed his face. His eyes scrunched up and he had dimples on his cheeks. The shoulders that seemed to be weighed down by something relaxed and eased, making him seem younger.

“Yep! We are gonna help ya pack and then get you home. Well sort of. We don’t live in the city proper anymore. But I think you will like this better, anyways.” You put your hand to the side of your mouth to whisper. “It was my idea.” You winked and turned quickly on your heel. “Hurry the hell up, oldies. We got shit to do and places to be.” You trotted out of the room hollering for Shuri, even though you knew exactly where she was.

“You heard her. Let’s get a move on. She waits for no man, let alone to 100 year old super soldiers.” Steve clapped Bucky on the back. Bucky huffed and nodded. The two of them cleaned up Bucky’s small mess and then slowly made their way to his small house to pack his meager belongings. They knew you would find them eventually. You had friends in Wakanda too.

A few hours later, Bucky’s last two years of his life were packed in discreet plain cardboard boxes the fit easily into the back of the Quinjet. Bucky had already said his goodbyes and was anxiously waiting in a sit behind Steve. You were at least on the ramp, loitering in your goodbyes, you were laughing and waving as the door closed. You settled down for take off and noticed Bucky’s look.

“You do know that not having a lot of thigs isn’t a bad thing, right? That just means you weren’t meant to settle down there. The next place I hope for you is a forever place and if not, I’ll help you find it. We have all the time you need. You aren’t alone anymore.” You said. You were trying to comfort Bucky, but knew you fell short.

“I guess that is true. I was too busy learning to heal and get healthy to be worried about stuff. I can get things now. I can have stuff.” Bucky said. He grabbed your hand and squeezed.

“Yep. You get to be a person now, isn’t that great. Decisions are all around you.” You said. You squeezed his hand back. “I know I just said that but to make the move easier and a bigger surprise, I did choose some of the things for your room, which if you don’t like we can change.” You let go of Bucky’s hand before settling down in your chair.

“This is your captain speaking. We have reached cruising altitude. I would like to thank you for flying Stark Air and Have a wonderful day.” Steve said from the cockpit.

You sighed and rubbed the bridge of your nose. “Great. Thanks, Steve. I have so much shit to do. I have three godamn reports to file and a STRIKE team to brief for Fury. I’ll be in the tech room if you need me.” With that you headed off to a small room to the side, where you began briefing the team you’d mentioned and reviewing the reports you needed to file.

“Bucky, you can sit up here. I don’t bite.” Steve said. He and you had worn civilian clothes, Steve was relaxed in his seat, letting the auto pilot have control. “I hope you liked your surprise. I hope you like your surprise. She worked very hard on it. She’s sweet on you.”

“Nah. She’s sweet on everyone. I am sure I will like it. She gets me pretty well. When I first woke up here, after Shuri cleared me of triggers, she was one of the first people I met. She happened to be walking through the lab and somehow knew that I was uncomfortable with the prodding even though I didn’t know. Then in a snap, she was everywhere. Not maliciously, just comfortingly on the edge of my radar, especially at the beginning. It’s no wonder, why I love her the way I do. She means a lot to me. Right now, I am okay with it being sweetness and softness and warmth. If one day it becomes thick and heavy and hot then I am okay with that too.” Bucky said. He couldn’t look Steve in the eye, only able to focus on his fingers, rubbing his human fingers against his cybernetic ones.

“Well then. I think I am embarrassed, and I was the one who mentioned it.” Steve could feel the heat on his cheeks. He laughed softly. “I am happy for you Bucky. I really am.”

The two of them chatted for most of the ride, finally you joined in after getting your work done. All too soon though, the jet alerted everyone to the start of the descent, forcing you all to return to your seats. Upon arrival, the boxes were left to be delivered later by a shield team. You and Steve had explained the upstate compound to him while packing in Wakanda, the solution to many problems, a training ground for new Avenger candidates and such. Your trio headed straight to Bucky’s room, the anticipation making you tremble.

“This is my room, but you look more excited.” Bucky pointed out. The two of you had been walking next to each other from the hangar but every few feet somehow, you’d shifted to the right or left, orbiting each other. Steve could barely stomach the nauseating aura the two of you put off. You couldn’t stop smiling and your kept clapping every few steps laughing in excitement.

“My love language is acts of service for a reason, buckaroo. I like doing things for the resident dumbass.” You grinned, reaching for Bucky’s hand, that was already reaching for yours. Steve silently gagged from behind the two of you.

The three of you reached the room, but Steve kept going. This wasn’t something he wanted to intrude upon. He had seen and heard enough with all your questions you had for him. You and Bucky stopped in front of his door. There was a biometric scanner next to the door but also a regular lock. You pulled a single key on a goat keychain and handed it over, your fingers trembling. Bucky grabbed on, his fingers brushing yours. You didn’t let go just yet.

“Welcome home, Sargent James Buchanan Barnes.” You took a deep breath and let go of the keys.

“Thank you. I promise, there is no need to be nervous. You did this for me, out of the goodness of your heart, I will love it.” ‘I already love you.’ He thought, he swallowed the words down though. He unlocked the door, ignoring his own nerves and pushed the door open.

His room had several big windows with a window seat, overlooking the acres and acres of land. There were shelves along one wall, several filled with books already, and movies. There were several plants hanging near the window seat. The walls were a muted blue/gray color and the sheets were chocolate color with what looked like a dozen pillows. The ceiling however was covered in a projection it looked like. It was too real to be painted but too artificial to be real. It was soothing and inviting and had just the right things to make him feel welcomed into his new home.

“The ceiling is something Shuri helped with. It is a projection from tech in the top of your walls. You can change it to project and sky from anywhere. Just ask SKYNET.” Bucky looked at you in awe. You had worked so hard to make him a place to call his own. “There are some books, movies, video games. The computer and tablet and phone are loaded to go with logins and apps and payment methods, I wrote down all that in a notebook in the desk too. I have a re-education guide for pop culture there too, same one I used for Steve except yours is more cause documentaries and I know you’d enjoy it more. I stocked the kitchenette with stuff already, nothing super perishable but snack foods and such.” You were rambling to cover your nerves; you both knew it. The more you spoke the more embarrassed you got. The more you talked the more Bucky felt his whole world shift, his entire existence tightened, to you and only you.

Recovery was hard, especially had been hard on him. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be doing or where he was going. He was just floating, purposeless until you.

“Do you like it?” Bucky realized he had been staring not at the room but at you while you were talking. He could see the love and care you put into the room, not just the room but into your wordless confession.  

“Yeah, I love you.” Bucky grabbed your hand, pulling you into a tight hug.

[greekgeek21]

Percy Jackson & The Avengers: Convergence - percy meets a real life pirate

Hi! I'm just gonna let you guys know now that I don't really have an updating schedule thus far. The only thing I'm doing it making sure that I get a chapter out at least every 2 days.

I hope you guys are enjoying this so far, and please don't hesitate to correct me if I make any technical mistakes. Sometimes my beta and I will both miss something.

This would not have been possible without my amazing beta reader, nightskywithrainbows, so tysm you are a lifesaver. You keep this story from being absolute shit.

As a reminder, this story is also on FF, Ao3, Inkitt, Webnovel, and Wattpad. If you prefer those places, just go check out the story on there. Now, on with the good stuff! Stay safe and happy reading!

- your author

Ω ♆ Ω

The first thing Percy felt was aching and stinging pain coming from his side. He groaned and tried to sit up, but found that he was tied down to a gurney with leather straps. So they think I'm a psycho. Nice to know, Percy's ADHD brain thought.

The bright lights caused his vision to swim for a second before they could focus and perform a quick surveillance of the room that revealed to Percy that he was in some sort of metal box. The walls had hexagons on them and there was a metal table with two metal chairs in the middle of the room. Basically, everything was metal.

In the corner, there was a camera with a blinking red light, so Percy knew that he was being watched. That meant he couldn't try an Iris Message unless he wanted some interesting questions from his captors that he didn't have answers to. He wasn't an idiot.

Speaking of his captors, nobody had come in yet, but they clearly knew he was awake. That meant that they were trying to scare him. Little did they know, it would take a lot more than isolation to scare him. Specifically, something less mortal.

Deciding that it would be best to try to calm himself, Percy willed his muscles to relax and closed his eyes. On the outside, it seemed like he was sleeping, but on the inside, his mind was flitting from topic to topic faster than light. It went from freaking out, to figuring out how to escape, to Annabeth, to his mom, to sleep, and back to freaking out. It was an endless cycle.

"You aren't that good of an actor, you know," a voice shocked him out of his thoughts, causing him to attempt to jump up again.

The attempt resulted in his wrists undoubtedly getting bruised, and his side to feel like he just got kicked in the ribs. Remembering that, apparently, Hill shot him, he started to freak out again. When he looked down, he could barely see the blue liquid dried on his side. So they had poisoned him then?

"You poisoned me?!" he exclaimed, finally meeting the eyes of the voice.

It was a middle-aged man with a starting of a receding hairline, with smile lines around his eyes. He was wearing a simple suit with an outline of a gun sticking out on the side, so he was another agent, but he kind of reminded Percy of Paul with how he presented himself.

The man gave him a small smile, "Agent Hill only used a tranquilizer. My name is Agent Phil Coulson of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcements and Logistics Division, or SHIELD."

Percy raised his eyebrows, "That's quite the name, and I thought you were the FBI. Also, would you mind telling me why I'm strapped down? I haven't done anything."

Percy thought that the best course of action was to stick with the innocent story, considering that it was partially true anyway.

"Well, I don't think that's completely true, Mr. Jackson. You assaulted our agent. We have every right to prepare for any other outbursts from you," Coulson said.

"She wanted to arrest me for no reason. I don't know what you guys want from me, but I can't help you. I'm a completely normal guy," Percy insisted, hand slowly sliding down until it rested against his pocket. He let out an involuntary sigh when he felt Riptide.

Coulson kept a cool face as he responded smoothly, "A completely normal guy wouldn't say he was completely normal."

Schist, Percy swore in his head. If Annabeth was there, they would've been free already. But with his luck, he would end up in some world-ending crisis again.

But then he heard a voice in his head. Not the kind of voice crazy people hear, but it was his father's voice, speaking to him like it used to during times of trouble. If this was serious enough to gain Poseidon's attention, then it was an issue Percy should be worrying about more. A demigod's life is never at peace...

"Stay silent, Percy. These are the ones working with the Avengers and the Norse god, Thor. They have not proven their trustworthiness yet. You were sent here to learn more about them. I'm sorry, Percy," his father said, voice somber and apologetic.

Percy gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to call the Fates a lot of colorful names. But that would just provoke them, so he stayed silent. He moved his gaze from Agent Coulson to the ceiling, trying to ignore the world around him. Unfortunately, that's impossible for someone whose mind is constantly alert to his surroundings.

Coulson sighed and tapped something on a tablet that Percy hadn't noticed, "Would you mind explaining this video?"

Percy tried to not look, but it was so tempting! So, he glanced over and saw himself, in his swim trunks, holding his hands out while thousands of gallons of water rose up out of the East River. Percy's eyes widened unconsciously in panic. He hadn't known there were cameras there, let alone that the Mist hadn't covered it up. Wait! The Mist.

"What do you see?" He asked, letting his head face Coulson again in question.

Coulon made a face that said he had just had a question answered for him. What that question was, worried Percy.

"I see a man, who looks a lot like you by the way, with extraordinary powers saving a lot of people. I just want to know if that man was you, and why we at SHIELD didn't know about your abilities," Coulson answered, staring Percy down.

The stare was like one you'd get from a teacher who had just asked you why you never turned in an assignment. It made Percy feel like he couldn't look away, but it almost hurt to keep looking.

But his father's voice rang in his head, reminding him to not reveal anything important, so he stayed silent.

Coulson sighed and stood up, "Very well, then. Let us know when you want to talk."

And then he left through a door in the wall that disappeared as soon as he was gone. Percy was seriously considering just using Riptide to slice his way out of there, but then he felt an unwanted feeling in his chest: Fear. They were in the air. How he had not realized earlier, Percy didn't know, but that wasn't his first priority in that moment. He was focused on getting OUT of the air and ON the ground, where he had no chance of getting electrocuted by his diva uncle.

The sky rumbled in the distance, but Percy ignored it. He had grown used to that happening whenever he thought ill of the gods, and it had stopped having an effect on him long ago.

He sent a silent prayer to his dad asking what to do. Annabeth's plans had never covered what to do when taken by a secret spy organization! He was clueless in this situation, as per usual.

All the answer he got was a gentle sea breeze blowing through the room. That's it. It was comforting, but not exactly clear on what the answer was. But that's how the gods do everything, anyway.

"Tell them you were born with the powers. You don't know where they came from, and you only wanted to help. You don't know anyone else who has them. Earn their trust, and figure it out from there. I trust you, son. Be careful," His father's voice flew through his mind.

Well, guess that answers that, Percy thought.

With yet another sigh, Percy called out to nobody, assuming they would hear him through some hidden microphone, "I'm ready to talk!"

Not a minute later, there was a click as the hidden door opened once again, letting in an asian woman in a skintight suit. She looked like the stereotypical spy, that's for sure.

She came over to him without a word and released his hands first, cuffing them with the same glowing handcuffs, before letting his legs free, too. She was clearly waiting for him to bolt, so Percy tried his best to make his body relax. If they were to trust him, he needed to cooperate fully.

The woman kept a permanent scowl on her face the entire time they were together. She was a little violent, too. She was practically shoving him the entire short walk. When they reached their destination, they were in a room with a huge screen table and three tvs on the wall. It was a whole lot of technology, and it made Percy on edge. Demigods and tech within two feet of each other are a big no-no.

The woman took his hesitation as a sign of escape and jabbed him in the small of his back, making his chest push forward immediately. Even though he had lost the Curse of Achilles, that one point on his body was still really sensitive. He turned his head around and shot a glare at the small lady on instinct. He tried to hold it back, but she had just poked his weakest point, what else could he have done?

"Move it," she growled out, meeting his glare with one of her own.

It didn't faze him, though. Lupa's was much scarier.

He sighed (he seriously needed to get a handle on the sighing), and sluggishly moved forward into the room. He just kept telling himself that the faster he got through this, the faster he got to see Annabeth again.

When he looked around the small glass room, he saw Agent Coulson, along with four others. Another, younger asian-looking woman (but she was in normal clothes), a tall brooding man in the corner dressed like an agent, a ginger-haired woman, and a nervous, curly-haired man. His eyes immediately drew to all the possible escape routes and any of the weapons, or things that could be used as weapons, in the room. The brooding man seemed to notice because he stood up tall and took a threatening step forward.

Percy ignored him, though, and looked straight at Coulson when he asked, "Why are they here? Tell them to leave."

"You don't give the orders here," Brooding man said before Coulson could speak.

Percy finally turned to the other Agent with a smirk, "And you don't either. And I don't remember asking you."

It's not like he TRIED to get in trouble with authority! It's more like authority seeks out trouble from him. This moment was an example (not that Percy would call the brooding man authority).

The brooding man took a couple more steps towards Percy, until he was right in front of him. He looked like he was used to towering over others, but Percy wasn't short or weak. He could confidently say that he could beat the man in front of him, so he kept his troublemaker smirk and stared the agent down.

"Watch it, Jackson. I'm not the one in handcuffs here," brooding man said before going back to his corner after a pointed look from Coulson.

"Are you sure about that?" Percy rebutted, holding his very uncuffed hands up in the air.

He couldn't help it, truly. It just slipped out! He had been unconsciously working on getting his cuffs off the entire time, and he had just broken free when the perfect opportunity came up.

Everyone in the room immediately either jumped forward to push him down or pulled out some sort of weapon. Except Coulson, that is.

"Stand down, guys. He's not gonna do anything. Isn't that right, Mr. Jackson?" he said.

Percy rolled his eyes, "Yeah. Of course not. If I wanted to get out of here, I would've a long time ago."

Turns out that wasn't the right answer because the first asian woman shoved him into the screen table, making him almost fall over. He held onto it for support, apparently touching something because a file with his face on it popped up. Percy immediately jumped back on instinct, fearing a monster would pop up out of the shadows. Except, the picture was from his junior yearbook photo...

"Why'd you guys have to use that picture? I look constipated!" he whined, scrunching up his nose in uncomfort.

The younger asian woman snorted, but tried to cover it up after her team glared at her. Clearly, she was the only one on the aircraft capable of feeling, Percy decided.

"We aren't here to discuss embarrassing yearbook photos, Perseus. We are here to talk about your abilities," The first asian woman stated.

"It's Percy," he corrected on instinct, and the woman glared at him even harder.

Before the situation could escalate any further, Coulson cut in again, "Could you please tell us what you wanted to tell us from before?"

"Yes. What do you want to know?" Percy said, putting his hands into his pockets and playing around with Riptide.

"Where do your abilities come from? How long have you had them?" The ginger asked.

Good, Percy thought with a smile, I know how to answer these ones.

"I was born with them, so I don't know where they come from." he stated simply, shrugging.

The ginger looked a little bit disappointed by that answer, but it didn't stop her from interrogating him more, "What are your limits? How have you kept your powers hidden for so long? Can I have a urine sample?"

Percy had decided that she was a scientist. With the way that everyone else was letting her ask all the questions, they probably thought she was the most capable. And plus, she was getting WAY too excited about pee.

"I don't know, I haven't really been hiding, and NO!!" he answered, giving the woman a look of disgust.

Now that he thought about it, it probably wouldn't be good if they got ANY DNA from him. He had never been told what it looks like with half of him made from the gods.

The ginger looked like she was going to ask more questions, but the curly-haired man rested a hand on her shoulder, seemingly calming her. Percy noted that the two were close.

"Any other questions?" he asked calmly, looking around.

Just as the brooding man looked like he was going to speak, the younger asian woman broke in, "Your powers are awesome! How much practice have you had with them? I would really love to see what else you could do with them!"

Ok, so the girl was probably a hero groupie. She didn't look like an agent, so that left the question of why she was on the plane with the rest of them.

Speaking of the plane, "Why are we flying? Can we finish this up on the ground PLEASE?"

Percy was already pushing his luck by being there for that long, let alone staying on here willingly.

The brooding man spoke, "How do you know we were flying? And unless you want to jump, no."

The brooding man was getting way too much joy out of Percy's fear. Like, phobias are real people!

"Ward, if you don't stop talking, I'm going to let Mr. Jackson have a go at you," Coulson said calmly, "Now, I have a proposition for you, Mr. Jackson, if you're willing to listen."

Percy figured that it couldn't hurt, so he gave the man a small nod. He was really trying to think before acting because he had a bad feeling that the conversation would change the course of his life for the better, or for the worse.

The other people in the room didn't seem to have prior knowledge of what Coulson was talking about, and that just made Percy more worried. What could possibly be important enough that Coulson hid it from his team (or that's what Percy thinks they are). His ADHD brain started to wonder where Hill went, but he quickly pushed that thought away. He needed to focus on the present!

"The Director would like you to join SHIELD. Officially, you would be a consultant. But unofficially, you would help us when we need your gifts." Coulson said, shocking literally everyone in the room.

Two beats of silence went before the team started into chaos:

"What?!"

"What are you talking about?!"

"Why weren't we told about this?"

"Am I even considered a consultant?"

"I'm sorry?"

Before it could get too out of hand, Percy spoke up, which seemed to silence everyone else, "Are you out of your mind? I thought I was a criminal!"

He wasn't admitting to being a criminal, but that's how they had been treating him. He might as well address their behavior.

"We need the full story from you before we can move forward, but the Director was clear in his orders," Coulson said.

Percy considered what the best option was. There really wasn't one, but what else was he gonna do?

"I want to speak to the Director in person before I give my answer," Percy came to his conclusion.

If anyone was going to learn whatever story he came up with, it would be the top dog in SHIELD. Nobody else, even if he's not allowed to reveal the gods.

Coulson thought about it for a second before answering, "Ok. He's in the interrogation room right now."

Before he could hold it in, Percy full-out laughed. Of course a spy organization would anticipate what he would want. Why not?

The rest of the team didn't seem to know about their guest either, though. Wow, Percy thought, Somebody needs to work on keeping everyone in the loop.

Then, Percy just walked out. Nobody tried to stop him, which meant that everyone was waiting until he was gone to truly let it show their lack of trust in the team. It took awhile to get there, but when he reached his cell again, he noticed that the door was very obvious from the outside and that it really wasn't that big of a room. He was surprised that they would put the boss inside a place they kept criminals.

Before he had even finished closing the door, Percy heard a deep voice speak, "Welcome, Mr. Jackson. I thought you would want to speak with me directly. I'm Director Nick Fury of SHIELD."

Turning around, Percy came face to face with a spy pirate. No seriously, the guy was wearing a long, black coat with an eyepatch over his left eye. The guy also had dark skin with a bald head. It took all of Percy's willpower to not burst out laughing at the sight. Plus, the guy was called Fury!

"Yeah. I'm only willing to tell you some things," Percy said.

"Understandable. What is it you would like to tell me? And does this mean you are agreeing to my proposition?" Fury asked.

Just as Percy was about to deny everything, his father spoke to him again (that was happening a lot that day), "It's okay, Percy. You can trust him. He doesn't know it, but he is a legacy of Nike. Zeus agreed to it."

Percy gave the Director a once-over before deciding it was safe, "Yeah, I'm in. And I need you to swear on the Styx that what is said in this conversation doesn't leave this room. Ever."

He may have had permission, but Percy wasn't just going to expose his entire family without some security first! He wasn't a total Seaweed Brain, despite what some people thought.

"Yeah, sure whatever. I swear on the Styx that this conversation won't leave this room," the Director sighed, clearly not liking Percy's stalling.

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

Taking a deep breath and pushing past any natural instincts he had, Percy spoke something he never likes to say to a mortal, "I'm a demigod."

Ω ♆ Ω

My boyfriend is out of his mind! Annabeth screamed in her head.

She was currently walking up to the Big House after gathering all of the cabin counselors, praetors through IM, and the rest of the Seven. After Percy was taken, she had immediately left for camp. She had understood what Percy was trying to tell her before, and she was happy that he had actually thought a little about his actions before doing them. Given, they were stupid actions, but it was improvement.

Annabeth hadn't told anyone what was happening, just said that it was an emergency and that it involved Percy. That was all they needed to know it was important. Honestly, everyone had been anticipating Percy to mess up sooner than he had. They had made it an entire year before something big happened! Once again, improvement for the son of Poseidon.

As she walked into the rec room, she watched as everyone's eyes turned to her. At first, it was a little unsettling, but she steeled herself over before any signs of weakness shown through. She had to keep a strong front for her friends, especially since Percy was mis- no, taken, again. She refused to say Percy was missing. He promised he wouldn't leave her again, and she was holding him to that.

After she had taken a seat, Chiron spoke, "What happened, child?"

"Yeah! What's Prissy gotten himself into this time?" Clarisse grunted.

Annabeth ran a hand through her hair once, a habit she had picked up from Percy, before answering, "He's been taken by the FBI, or someone impersonating them. They seemed too skilled to be the FBI. He told me to get you guys for help."

"Of course he has," Nico muttered from his spot next to Will Solace, "Cuz why not?"

Annabeth gave him a small smile, "I have a plan. We're going to break him out from wherever he is. We'll figure out where he is by IMing him, and then we'll storm the place. I want our heaviest hitters making a distraction while Nico and I break him out. Got it everyone?"

She had said that all in one breath. She really didn't have time to go over it again, and her face must have betrayed that, so everyone just nodded along.

"We'll IM him and then see who we need to bring," she said, already pulling out a drachma and a rainbow maker, courtesy of Iris.

Making the rainbow, she said, "O Fleecy, do me a solid. Show me Percy Jackson, location unknown."

The mist shimmered before showing Percy in a metal box, talking to a dark-skinned man with an eyepatch. From the sound of it, they hadn't noticed her yet, so she cleared her throat. She didn't care if the eyepatch man saw her, she needed to see if Percy was okay.

Both men looked over at her and her relieved smile grew into a scowl when she saw that Percy looked completely at ease, "Perseus Jackson! Where are you, and why haven't you contacted me?!"

She distantly heard Leo mutter 'whipped' before Percy stammered over a response, "A-Annabeth! I-I'm fine! I was just going to call you, too!"

Her face was probably a tomato of fury, "Like Hades you were!"

"Can we please stop using my father's name as a curse?" Nico asked, but nobody paid any attention.

"I swear I was! I just finished making a deal!" Percy exclaimed.

"He was, whoever you are. I assume you are his girlfriend?" the eyepatch man said.

She rounded on him, but before she could start her yelling, Percy spoke up, "Wise Girl! I. AM. FINE. I just made a deal that will let me go. I will tell you about it when I see you again, but I can't do that if you're yelling at Fury!"

Percy's eyes widened at his ambitiousness, and he seemed to be about to take it all back, but Annabeth spoke first, "If you aren't at camp in an hour, I'm coming to find you."

And then she swiped a hand through the message before Percy could try to apologize. Gods, that boy is in a world trouble, Annabeth thought before storming out of the room and towards the Poseidon cabin without another word.

Ω ♆ Ω

Remember to like, comment, reblog, and follow me! Stay safe and happy reading!

- your author

other chapters :)

[kittinoir]

Phantoms Ch. 9

Read on Ao3

Adrien blinked as Marinette’s bright pink bag thumped down on his desk, right on top of the tablet he’d been about to slide into his own bag.

“Lunch. You. Me. Talk.”

The colour was high in her cheeks and her eyes were bright. If he didn’t know better he’d guess she was embarrassed, but there was a slightly frantic air to her that told him there was nothing romantic in her invitation. If it could even be called that.

“Here?” Adrien glanced around at their class maters, some of which were eyeing them as they talked. He’d never been happier with the secrets between them gone, but privacy was harder to come by than ever.

“I have it on good authority we’ll be left alone,” Marinette said as she hefted her bag back onto her shoulder.

As if on cue, Chloe and Alya herded their friends through the door. Adrien caught whispers of ‘the meeting of the minds’ and ‘debriefing’.

“What exactly goes on at those sleep overs?” Adrien asked as he watched them go. Too late, he realized that in any other context, he’d be in trouble.

But Marinette only laughed, a carefree sound he realized he only just realized he missed. 

“Team building exercises,” she said as he stood and joined her. She paused for a moment and then continued, “We had a vote on whether or not Chloe would stay.”

Adrien’s eyebrows shot up. “I thought that had already been decided.”

Marinette shrugged and fiddled with her purse. “It had been, but…one thing led to another, and it can’t just be our choice. We have to be able to rely on each other. We all have to choose her.”

As ugly as the truth was, Marinette was right. They couldn’t make anyone trust her, and they couldn’t beat Hawk Moth if there was any doubt.

“I guess it went in her favour,” he said as he watched them disappear into the cafeteria. Just before going through the doors, Chloe paused and threw him a smile over her shoulder, one with genuine warmth and love, and just a little bit of cunning. Happiness looked good on her.

 “Mostly,” Marinette said as she lead him not to the cafeteria, but down to the school doors. “Mylene, Kagami, and Alix all voted no.”

“Kagami and Alix don’t surprised me,” Adrien said as he mulled it over. “Those two aren’t the type to forgive easily. But Mylene…”

“Forgiveness isn’t the issue,” Marinette explained. “It’s the trust thing.”

“Ah,” Adrien said, nodding. “I get it.” They all knew what Chloe had done for Marinette, but that didn’t mean they could necessarily appreciate the cost of it - and if they did, it didn’t magically cancel out the rest. Trust was hard. It couldn’t always be rebuilt. But better to be aware of that weakness in their team than to lose because of it.  “So that’s what you wanted to talk to me about?”

Marinette took a steadying breath and shook her head as they entered the park near her flat. It was nearly empty in the middle of a work day. A few people walked dogs, some read the newspaper, but no one was close enough to overhear them. Marinette slipped a hand inside her purse and he thought she might pull something else, but she didn’t, and after a moment, her shoulder slightly relaxed. He abruptly realized the purse must be where Tikki hid, and that Marinette was seeking reassurance from her kwami. Reassurance about him. 

“Have I…done something wrong?” Adrien asked, trying to squash the thousands of worst-case-scenarios that were suddenly tripping over themselves in his head to be acknowledged. 

“No!” Marinette grabbed his hand with her free one, squeezing his fingers to emphasize her words. “You haven’t done anything wrong. There’s something I have to tell you. Something that happened a long time ago. Something that never happened.”

Adrien frowned, confused, but didn’t interrupt, unable to help himself as he laced their fingers together. He knew what Marinette looked like when she was trying to find the right words; it was a variation of her lucky charm pout. So he focused on that, on the endearingly familiar curve of her lips, the little ‘v’ that appeared between her brows, the warmth of her hand in his, anything but the foreboding weight pressing down on him. They’d faced worse. They’d face this, too. 

“You were akumatized.”

Adrien couldn’t help it - he laughed. “I’m not trying to be rude, it’s just…I think I’d remember if that happened.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Marinette said. She hadn’t so much as cracked a smile. “Bunnix helped me make it not happen.”

And just like that, there was nothing funny about it anymore.

Adrien’s emotions rushed, but he smothered them, just as he always did. Yelling, making demands, fear, none of it would help Marinette figure out how to tell him what she was trying to say. So he simply said, “Tell me all of it.”

And she did. 

Ladybug in his room, he remembered. The fifth’s name day gift, too, the beret with the embroidered hearts that was sitting in the back of his closet, untouched. But other than that, the day remained insignificant to him.

But not to her.

“Chat…Blanc,” Adrien murmured when she’d finished. Marinette tried to hide a wince and failed, as though hearing him say the name himself was somehow worse than the story she’d told. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she stared at her purse. “I should have told you a long time ago, but I just thought - ”

“It didn’t happen,” Adrien said. “So there was nothing to tell.”

“And then everything happened with the miracle box, and there was no point. I wasn’t Ladybug anymore.” Marinette’s fingers had gone cold in Adrien’s hand a long time ago as they’d walked rings around the park, but he felt them stir now, as though she might pull back.

And as upset as he was, Adrien wasn’t ready to let her go just yet, so he tightened his grip, just enough to ask her to stay.

“I thought I’d adverted the future,” she said. “Chat Blanc said it was our love that destroyed the world, but it didn’t matter, because I was in love with someone else, anyway, more than I was in love with my partner. And then…it turns out they were the same person the whole time.”

She said it so nonchalantly he almost missed it, as though part of him had always known Marinette felt that way, because a part of him had always felt the same. Or maybe he’d just grown used to it in the past few months. He didn’t know anymore. All he knew was that he was in love with the girl in front of him, the girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders, the girl who was still learning how to ask for help and rely on others.

And that she was apparently in love with him, too. 

“So that’s…why…” Adrien stopped, and Marinette stopped with him, blushing furiously as he worked through every moment through new eyes.

“And it still doesn’t matter, because I know that’s not how you feel about me,” she rushed on. “I know Ladybug wasn’t who you thought she was, and…”

Adrien’s heart was breaking. How could this wonderful, amazing girl, who he loved so much, who was so smart, say these things? He had to get her to stop talking. He had to convince her she was wrong. He had to let her know he loved her, too. 

So he cupped her cheek, tilted her face up to his, and captured her lips in a kiss that lit every nerve in his body on fire.

And despite the horror story she’d just told, despite the disaster it might cause, after only a moments hesitation, Marinette had wrapped her arms around his waist and was kissing him back.

“I love you, Marinette,” Adrien breathed when they finally broke apart. She hadn’t let go of him, so he rested his forehead against hers, just happy to be close. “I’m <em>in</em> love with you. I have been for a long time. I might love Ladybug, but only because she’s a part of you, the part I got to know first.”

“I’m sorry I kept so much from you,” Marinette said as he pushed her bangs back and pressed another gentle kiss to her forehead. “I wanted to tell you so many times.”

“It seems pretty obvious now why you felt you couldn’t,” Adrien murmured against her skin. “Pretty heavy stuff. I just wish you’d let me help you before now.”

“But this is exactly why I couldn’t,” Marinette sighed as he pressed another kiss to her temple. “I knew this would happen. And I knew, when the time finally came…that I’d let it.”

Adrien paused as her words sank in, taking in the truth of them.

“You’re still afraid of it,” he said. “Of…me.”

“Not you,” Marinette said fiercely. “Of Hawk Moth. It’s always been him. It’ll never be safe for any of us until we beat him.”

She was waiting for him to protest, he realized. To insist that the future was already different, and that they were strong enough to thwart any future in which he was akumatized. But not only were they the untrue protests of a man desperate in love, but Marinette was afraid of that future coming to pass regardless - and she was tired of trying to prevent it. He could tell in the way she leaned on him then, the way she allowed him to hold her, the way she kissed him back. He knew if he pushed her, she’d let him convince her, because the beautiful truth was, she wanted this as much as he did. 

And it didn’t matter one bit, because Adrien had made the same choice, time and time again, and he wasn’t about to make a different one now.

“I understand,” he said, stepping back out of the circle of her arms. 

Marinette blinked, confused, one arm still extended toward him as though he’d taken part of her with him. “I…what - ”

“I love you, Marinette,” Adrien said again. “More than anyone or anything. More than being Chat Noir. I’ll be your friend, and your partner, but nothing else. Not until you’re sure. Not until you’re not afraid anymore.”

For a moment he thought she might protest, and he had a moment of panic; he was no where near as strong as her. He’d crumble at the first ‘please’.

But she didn’t, and as their phones went off, alerting them to an akuma attack, Marinette simply gave his hand one more squeeze and said, “Thank you, Adrien.”

And then she let go. 

[mxltifaves]

Caught In The Act

Ever since the conference in San Diego, Amelia and Link couldn’t stop sneaking around. Nobody aside from Maggie knew about them, they wanted to keep things quiet just until they figured out how serious they were. Amelia had a really light day, she had a few surgeries scheduled in the morning which she had already finished so unless a trauma came in she was pretty much finished for the day. She went to go find Link, to see if they could sneak off to an on call room for some much needed alone time. She found him at the nurses station inputting something into the tablet. 

Amelia- “Hey, you busy?” 

Link- “Just finishing updating some charts, why?” 

Amelia- “I was thinking of going to find an empty on call room,” 

Link- “Is that so?” 

Amelia- “Mhmm do you want to join?” 

Amelia dragged Link into the on call room, pushing him against the door. It felt like every inch of her body needed him. She needed to feel him close to her, feel his skin against hers. Link wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her body closer to his. She wrapped her arms around his neck, crashing her lips to hers. Link turned them around and pinned her against the wall. Amelia’s arm reached behind her to attempt to lock the door. Their lips still pressed against one another, she walked them over to the bed. Pushing him down onto it, she climbed on top of him immediately crashing her lips against his. Link removed his shirt revealing his bare chest. Amelia ran her hands down his chest, and removed her own shirt leaving her in a black bra, she bent down to kiss him. They were too busy to notice the door handle moving, Maggie entered the on call room. 

Maggie: “Oh my god, sorry,” she laughed and closed the door immediately after seeing her sister straddling her boyfriend.

Link- “I thought you locked the door” 

Amelia- “I thought I did, but apparently I didn’t. I should go talk to Maggie,”

Link- “Do you have to?” 

Amelia- “Yes, I do. We will continue this later,” Amelia and Link got dressed and left the on call room and went their separate directions. Maggie was standing by the nurses station and Amelia walked towards her. 

Amelia- “Don’t say anything,” Amelia was pouting, all she wanted was to spend some uninterrupted time with Link.

Maggie- “Aww, do you miss your toy?”

Maggie thought it was the funniest thing ever that Amelia and Link got caught. Ever since she walked in on them, There has been never ending taunting. 

Amelia- “I think that is enough.”

Maggie- “Oh, it definitely isn’t. You are never going to hear the end of this.”

They walk over to the nurses station and lean against the counter.

Amelia- “You are just jealous because I am getting lucky, while you aren’t getting anything.”

Maggie- “First of all, ouch. Secondly, I haven’t ever gotten caught in the act. You could have at least locked the door.”

Amelia- “I thought I did!”

Maggie laughs and Amelia sees Owen walk up behind her.

Maggie- “How long are you and Link going to keep sneaking around on call rooms? Where all have you done it in this hospital? He must be some kind of sex god for you to risk getting caught.”

Owen hears what Maggie says and he looks really uncomfortable. He hands the nurse his tablet and walks away.

Maggie- “Uh oh.”

Amelia- “Damn it! I was waiting until Link and I were more serious to tell Owen about us. And for your information, he is a sex god. And we have done it EVERYWHERE. Remember the spot in the attendings lounge where you like to take naps? We did it there.” 

Maggie’s face drops and she makes a face of disgust.

Maggie- “Yeah, we aren’t talking about this anymore.”

Maggie sulks away, and Amelia runs in the direction that Owen went, to try to explain everything to him. She goes around the corner and sees him enter a staircase. She jogs towards it. When she catches up to him, he looks angry.

Amelia- “Owen! Wait! I can explain everything.”

Owen- “No need. The least you could have done was warn me! We aren’t even together anymore. I don’t care what activities you are up to.”

He turns and keeps running down the stairs.

Amelia- “I’m sorry I just got caught up in the moment.”

Owen- “Whoever you want to use for sex, isn’t my business.”

Amelia stops walking for a minute.

Amelia- “What? I am not just using him for sex! We are going out, I think. I sound like a freaking high schooler.”

Owen- “So you guys are serious?”

Amelia- “Well...I don’t know about serious...it isn’t really your business. But I am not just using him for sex, I actually like him.”

Owen- “You’re right it isn’t any of my business. You are in love with someone else. I get it.”

Amelia- “If I remember correctly, the last time we decided to try it out, it ended with you telling me that I am incapable of being loved. You have no right to be mad at me because I am proving you wrong. I like him. A lot. I don’t know about love yet, but we are happening!”

Owen- “Whatever. I don’t even care.”

Owen turned around and jogged down the rest of the stairs. She grabbed the railing and took a deep breath.

Amelia- “Ugh!!!!! What a prick!”

She says to absolutely no one. Amelia walks up the stairs and goes to the attendings lounge. She was hoping to find Link. All she was thinking was, “I could really use a bear hug right now.”

Author’s note:  Hey guys I hope you like this. This was a collab with @/amelinkcutiez (wattpad & Ao3) if you haven’t checked out their amelink fanfic, you definetly should. 

[verai-marcel]

What Is Real (RDR2 Fanfic, Corrections AU, Javier x Fem!Reader, Part 1 of 2, 18+)

Summary: You’re a barista at the Strada Cafe, and you’ve noticed that a couple of men who seem somewhat familiar have been visiting lately, with two of your regulars. You have a hard time believing that it’s Arthur & Charles, two of the bouncers from the BDSM club you used to attend when you lived in the big city. Then one of their friends shows up, and now you’re 100% sure it’s them, because you couldn’t forget those warm brown eyes and charming demeanor if your life depended on it.

Author’s Notes: My first true Javier x Reader fic. @eddescuella, @mrsescuella, @javiescuellx, I dedicate this to you.

Tags: Javier x Reader, smut, D/s, plot, romance, drama, dirty talk, name-calling, spanking

AO3 Link is here, baby.

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

Chapter 1: We Meet Again

Word Count: 2788

"Good morning!" you said cheerfully as the front door opened, the bells jingling daintily.

Two men greeted you with a polite smile and a nod before sitting at a corner table. They must be waiting for someone, you thought, as they did not stop to purchase something from the counter. 

You had seen the two men more often recently, but not together; in fact, you had seen them paired with two of your regulars, the veterinarian and the prison guard. Part of you felt strange, seeing them here in this city after so long. They didn’t recognize you, which was a relief. Then again, you wouldn’t blame anyone for not recognizing you if they saw you outside of that club.

Two years ago, when you moved to this city to start over, you swore off your other life. You had been a grocery clerk by day, and at night you would go down to the Free & Brave, dressed to the nines in your best latex dress, and play your heart out.

But you had gotten too close to a certain club employee; he was just doing his job and you were addicted to his services, coming back to the club again and again, just for him. In hindsight, it was cringey, the way you always looked for him, the way just one smile from him would light up your whole night. His suave mannerisms, his voice, and his guitar playing were only part of the whole package. You sincerely cared about him as a whole person, but you were starting to feel foolish, knowing that he didn’t feel the same way.

So when you got fired from your job, you decided it was time to leave the big city and head east, away from the complicated feelings, away from your addiction, away from everything. On one hand, you wanted desperately to see him again, and on the other, you wanted to just forget about what you had been.

Every date, every lover, every one night stand you’d had since then? No one could compare. You were never satisfied.

The door jingled open again.

“Good morning!” you said before turning to the door. You paused for a split second, your heart leaping into your throat. Forcing it back down, you continued. “Welcome to Strada Cafe!”

“Hi,” the man that haunted your memories said with a polite smile. He looked around and spotted the other two men and waved at them. “I’ll come back to order something,” he said to you before he joined his friends.

Your heart was hammering. Did your eyes deceive you?

Was that… Javier?

***

“Hello gentlemen,” Javier said as he walked towards the two men who looked back at him with neutral expressions. He had emailed them, asking to meet up. When they agreed to meet him in a cafe, he was both relieved and anxious; after all, he was the one who had pushed them away when they had told him the truth about the Free & Brave’s secret operations. So he understood why they weren’t exactly welcoming him back with open arms.

“Javier,” Arthur said, nodding at him. “Been a long time.”

“A couple of years at least,” he replied. “A lot has happened.”

Charles stayed quiet, watching Javier sit down.

“Listen, about… the club.” Javier took a breath and blew it out slowly, a contrite look on his face. “You were right. You were both right. I should’ve left. I just… I didn’t want to see the truth.”

“At least you see it now, right?” Arthur asked. When Javier nodded, he continued. “So where’ve you been?”

“The feds detained all of us, told us to not leave town while they did the investigation. I had to get a job somewhere, so I worked at a restaurant for a while. The feds kept bringing me in for questioning. It was a mess. Different agents would ask me the same question, over and over. But I didn’t have anything to tell them. When they finally told me I was free to go, I started looking for a quiet place to live. Moved out here a couple of days ago. John told me you two lived out here.”

“You still talk to John?” Charles asked.

“We email sometimes. Not much talking, really,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders.

“Oh,” was all Charles could say. He suspected there was more to this than just Javier’s response, but he didn’t have any desire to pry.

“So how’ve you two been doing?” Javier asked, changing subjects.

Charles and Arthur both shrugged. “Doin’ fine, I s’ppose,” Arthur replied. “Just workin’ almost every day, gettin’ by.”

Javier nodded. “Sounds… nice.” He sighed. “I’ll just cut to the chase. I need to find a new job.”

“You tried the internet?” Charles asked, a bit sarcastically.

Javier ignored the jab at his intelligence, though it grated a little at his pride. “I did, but I was hoping one of you had a lead.”

Arthur shook his head. “We don’t. Our boss isn’t hiring at the moment.”

Charles glanced at Arthur before responding. “We’ll let you know if she needs another person.”

Javier bowed his head. “Thank you." He paused for a moment before continuing. "I know things didn’t end well back there, but I want to start over. You two were the most level-headed guys at that place.” 

He held out his hand. "I’m sorry for what I said. Forgive me.”

Charles took his hand and shook it firmly. “It’s alright. Water under the bridge.”

When Javier turned to Arthur and offered his hand, Arthur glanced at Charles, who nodded imperceptibly. Taking his hand, he shook it once before letting go. “I haven’t forgotten, Javier.”

Wrinkling his brow at Arthur’s response, Javier nodded. “I understand. Let me buy you a drink, then you can go about your day.”

***

You couldn’t overhear the three of them talking clearly, but you knew that there was something going on, when Javier shook both of their hands, and then got up and walked towards the counter. You fumbled your pencil as you tried to set it down before going back to the register.

“Wh-what can I get for you?” you asked, attempting to hide your nerves.

“Two coffees, black, and a honey lavender latte.”

You blinked. “Alright, anything to eat?”

“No, but thank you.”

You rang him up and turned the tablet to him so he could pay. When he finished and you turned the tablet back to you to complete the order, you noticed he was looking at you in a curious way.

“I think I know you,” he said.

You swallowed. “Um, maybe?” Your voice cracked as you finally looked up at him and met his kind gaze.

Suddenly he smiled. “Don’t lie, querida. I thought I recognized you.”

Querida. His pet name for you at the club. He remembered. And you panicked.

“I, um, well, yes,” you stammered.

“I won’t bother you while you’re working. Can I come see you after your shift?”

“Yes!” you said with far too much enthusiasm. “Come back at 3pm,” you said more quietly. You passed him two cups of black coffee. 

“I’ll be here,” Javier said, winking at you as he went back to his table.

Your heart beating wildly in your chest, you quickly went to make the latte. You knew it was for Javier; after all, his room at the club always had a light lavender scent.

***

After accepting the coffee from Javier, Arthur and Charles made their excuses and left, saying they had other errands they needed to do, leaving Javier to wait for his latte alone. He sat at the table, staring outside and contemplating his future; he had left the big city to start over. It still hurt to think about the past and the choices he made, the sides he took when he should’ve thought about it more carefully.

But he had cared so much about the club. He had cared about Dutch, the man who brought him in, encouraged his talents, encouraged him to be free. He taught him to treat others with respect, to be open to new things, to be a better person altogether.

And instead, he turned out to be the head of an underground crime syndicate, with alleged ties to assassinations and blackmail.

It hurt to have his belief in someone turn out to be so misplaced.

At least he could take comfort in the fact that most of the crew were just as in the dark about the club’s ties to the underground as he was. When he reached out to the others who had left, only Lenny had responded. Without him, Javier would never have gotten in contact with John, to whom he apologized, but got the feeling that he was still angry at him for what he had said before.

He was surprised that John told him where Arthur and Charles were, after he had asked. Maybe it was because he had written that he wanted to apologize to them.

Charles was a forgiving man. Arthur… Arthur still carried a grudge. That much he could tell.

Javier knew things would never be the same. But at least he could start over in this city with the knowledge that he had a chance at reclaiming some of the connections he once had. It gave him hope.

***

“You forgave him so easily.”

“It’s been a couple years, Arthur.”

“Do you even remember what he said to us?”

“I know. But he was intensely loyal to Dutch. When your faith in someone is upended like that…. Some people don’t handle it well.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “You’re a better man than me.”

As they walked to their cars, Charles clapped Arthur on the back. “You’re a good man too, Arthur.”

He shrugged. “If you say so.”

Charles smiled. “Just ask your lady.”

Arthur sighed. He knew what she would say. “Alright, alright.” He pointed at his beat up truck. “I’m goin’ to see her.”

“Tell her I said hi.”

Arthur raised two fingers and waved goodbye as he got into his truck and took off.

***

“Here’s your latte.”

Javier looked up at the barista and smiled. Another connection that he had thought disappeared forever now stood before him. He felt like the world had given him a second chance; he wasn’t going to screw it up.

***

Javier’s dazzling smile blinded you to everything else, and for a moment all you could do was smile back like a fool.

“Where’d your friends go?” you asked.

“They had things to do,” he said, looking out the window again, looking a little forlorn. 

You immediately sat down, despite knowing that you had to get back to the counter right away. Touching his arm, you gave him a sympathetic look. “You can stay here as long as you need,” you said kindly.

“Thank you,” he said as he turned to meet your eyes. “I’m happy to see you again.”

You felt warm all of a sudden. “Me too,” you said. Patting his arm, you got up and went back to your counter, but you were definitely distracted by the man in the corner.

Eventually, he got up and left, winking at you before he left. “See you at 3,” he mouthed to you while you were ringing up another customer.

You were so distracted that you had to reset the transaction, much to the chagrin of your boss.

***

When 3 o’clock rolled around, you signed out of the Clover station, swapped places with your coworker, and bounded to the back room. As you were clocking out and pulling your stuff out of your locker, your boss came up to you.

“Hey, can we talk?”

Oh god, you thought. “Sure,” you said with some trepidation.

“You made a couple of mistakes today at the register. You caught them before you finalized the transaction, but still.”

You nodded. “I know, I’ll be more careful in the future.”

“Alright. Also, don’t flirt with the customers.”

You felt your face heat with embarrassment. “I wasn’t flirting, he’s an old acquaintance,” you replied, tamping down your irritation as best as you could.

“Uh huh. Well, you have a good rest of your day.”

As she walked away, you breathed a sigh of relief and quickly left out the back door. Walking around to the front, you saw Javier, waiting for you.

He had on a pair of brown chukka boots, dark blue jeans, and a black athletic cut T-shirt, tight on his lean muscled body. You could see the bottom of his eagle tattoo that you knew adorned his left pectoral and curved around his shoulder, the tattoo that he had gleefully shown you on a rainy night after a session, telling you how happy he was that he could finally afford to get it.

***

“Isn’t it sore?” you had asked, gesturing at his tattoo.

“A little, but I can handle it. Just to see you, I would brave a thousand needles.”

When he had told you that, your heart had fluttered and a part of you had wished it was all real, a real relationship, not a series of sessions at a fetish club, where you pretended to be someone else.

***

The two of you walked downtown, heading for a small burger place to grab food. You were hungry, and he offered to accompany you, though he had eaten not too long ago. 

You met his eyes, feeling shy all of a sudden. It was strange and yet oddly comforting to see him outside like this. You had never seen him like this before, and yet it felt natural, felt… real.

"So what brings you to town?" you asked, curious.

"I moved here."

You stared at him for a moment. "Really?" 

"Yeah." He was silent for a few moments before he continued. "Wanted a new start. So now I'm looking for a new job."

"We need a new barista," you blurted out before you could think better of it. 

He looked at you for a couple of seconds before he spoke. "Maybe I shouldn't. After all, it isn't good to date a coworker."

You stopped walking as you looked at him in shock. He laughed at your expression, turning around to face you. "Does that surprise you, querida?" 

"Yeah, it does," you said. "I mean, we, back then, I…"

He stepped closer to you and took your hands in his. "Let's start over. We can be real." Caressing your cheek, he leaned in. "What do you say?" 

He was so close. How many times in the past had he been this close? And yet this time was different from all the rest. You leaned into his touch and closed your eyes, reveling in the feel of his warm hand on your face. 

"Yes," you finally answered.

***

As you munched on a burger, Javier slowly sipped on a coke. He had asked what you’d been up to the past two years. You just gave him the rundown of how your life was pretty humdrum these days, since you moved here. You weren’t about to tell him everything, about how your addiction to your other life caused you to get fired from your previous job. 

You did tell him about how you spent your spare time writing, trying to put together ideas for a book, but you never got very far, always coming up with new ideas, never settling on one plot.

After a few minutes of silence as Javier absorbed everything you said, he finally spoke.

"The club closed a couple of years ago, pretty soon after you disappeared."

You were shocked. "Why?" you asked. 

He shrugged. “Finances got bad,” he said. “Everyone got laid off. I tried to stay in the city, but it’s hard to make a living there. So I came out here to have a quieter life for a while.” 

You nodded sympathetically.

“How about you?” he asked. “Why did you leave?”

“Same as you, wanted to live somewhere not crazy.” 

Javier laughed. "And yet life is crazy, bringing us back together." He looked over at you, his face turning serious. "Are you getting what you need?" he said in a low voice. 

You nearly choked on your burger, swallowed, took a sip of your soda, and looked up at him. His sympathetic gaze did things to your heart, things that you were not prepared for. 

"No," you finally answered. "I missed you."

Javier's fingers caressed your cheek. "I missed you too, querida."

You reached up and held his hand, taking it away from your face. "Let's try being… normal. Maybe we go on a date first?"

He chuckled. “Sure, if that’s what you want.”

You nodded. Normalcy, that’s what you wanted right now.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Part 2 is here.

[give-me-back-my-rhodey]

Love in an Underground Bunker - AU Day 5

Title: Love in an Underground Bunker

Author: Purple_ducky00

Prompted by @ironfamquotesincorrect​

Link Filled: U2: Secret Relationship of the Bucky Barnes Bingo

Rating: Explicit

Warning: N/A

Relationship: James “Bucky” Barnes/Tony Stark

Link: Read on AO3

Summary:  Tony doesn’t remember not living in fear. When his father was a young man, there was an uprising against the government. In turn, the government unleashed a highly toxic gas upon its citizens. The few who did not rebel were rewarded with palaces and mansions built on higher elevations to protect them from the gasses. They were transported in hover jets. Those who rebelled were forced to live on the ground, choked by the deadly gasses. Although the government committed genocide, some people had foresight, however, and built large underground bunkers. Howard had invented a device that filtered the gas out of the air. The rebels planted them in many places over the country. When the government found out, they began to send their AIM agents out to replenish the air with their toxic gas.

DISCLAIMER: THIS WORK IS NSFK!

++++++++++++

The air is bad. They have to find shelter, but they might not have enough time. The AIM agents are upon them, spraying them with the toxic gas that caused so much destruction in the first place. Tony trips on a rock, falling flat on his face and smashes his oxygen mask. The gas starts to fill his already weak lungs, and he can feel himself drifting… drifting… Suddenly the cool oxygen is back. He looks up to see a mask-less Bucky Barnes.

 “Stay there” Barnes mouths and spins around firing his weapon. Tony knows Barnes is superhuman, but even he can’t breathe too much of this gas, or he’ll die. Natasha slides in beside Barnes, taking down AIM henchmen one by one. As the AIM men fall, the gas rises. Pretty soon, it gets too high and Tony, Bucky, and Nat have to make a break for it. They reach their hideout before the gas overtakes them.

Bucky takes one step inside the bunker and collapses. Captain Rogers, the leader and Bucky’s best friend, runs over. “What happened? Where’s his mask? Tony, why do you have his mask on?” He roars. “What is the number one rule in this unit?” 

“Never take off your mask nor take another’s outside the bunker.” Tony mumbles. 

“Exactly.” Rogers snaps. “Now, Bucky could have died! He’s being taken to intensive care now. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I’m sorry.” Tony looks Steve right in the eyes. “It won’t happen again.”

 “You’re damn right it won’t! From now on, you’re not cleared for missions. Your entire job is to repair broken armor and tech.”

 Tony wants to scream. That is not fair. All he did was trip on a rock that he couldn’t see due to the gas. They weren’t even supposed to be out that late, but Steve needed intel. And it wasn’t his fault that Bucky gave him his mask. What was he supposed to do – take it off and hand it back to Bucky? Then they’d both be suffering from the gas. Knowing it’s no use to argue, Tony sighs and turns to go to his quarters.  Exhausted from the long day, he gets a quick shower and falls asleep.

 ++++++

Tony doesn’t remember not living in fear. When his father was a young man, there was an uprising against the government. In turn, the government unleashed a highly toxic gas upon its citizens. The few who did not rebel were rewarded with palaces and mansions built on higher elevations to protect them from the gasses. They were transported in hover jets. Those who rebelled were forced to live on the ground, choked by the deadly gasses. Although the government committed genocide, some people had foresight, however, and built large underground bunkers. Howard had invented a device that filtered the gas out of the air. The rebels planted them in many places over the country. When the government found out, they began to send their AIM agents out to replenish the air with their toxic gas.

 The water is toxic, and the insurgents must rely on deep water wells for drinking and cleaning. Underground greenhouses with UV lights are used to grow plants. Animals are kept in paddocks as large as each unit can afford. Storehouses of canned goods are piled high. Each leader must set their own rations. Given that Steve had fought all his life, he set rations fairly.

Every day at 7pm, AIM agents are air dropped into the lowlands and spray more gas across the lands. Anyone who had to leave the bunker made sure they had a weapon and got back before 7pm. AIM agents are known for shooting first and never asking questions.

Last night, an AIM agent destroyed the SHEILD bunker transmission systems, so Steve’s unit was stranded with no comms. He sent Tony, Bucky, and Nat out to repair the systems. It was not an easy fix, however, and it took Tony a long time to repair the busted systems. By 6pm, he had the comms up and running functionally but not perfectly, but Rogers asked them to stay a little to perfect and camouflage them. By the time they had finished, it was 7pm and they had to avoid AIM agents.

Now, Tony’s sitting on his bed, wondering if Bucky’s ok. He would go sit by his bed, but no one knows he and Bucky are dating. The units don’t encourage relationships for a few reasons. 1.) They don’t want children running around the bunker. They understand that in order to survive for generations, they will have to reproduce, but they hope to make the world a little better before they do. 2.) People unfortunately are bound to die. Everyone should be unhappy, but they don’t want anyone unable to do their jobs due to grief. Steve is a little more lenient with his unit, but Tony knows Steve disapproves of him, he wouldn’t be happy to know his best friend is dating him. 3.) Close quarters. No one wants to hear anything.

Tony decides to check in on him, if only to see what he’s doing. Unsurprisingly, Steve is sitting beside Bucky’s bed. He looks up when Tony walks up to the open door. “What are you doing here?” He hisses.

“I just came by to see if he’s okay,” Tony blurts, taken aback by Steve’s animosity. He thought Steve would by upset, but not full-out angry.

Steve rises from his chair. “You don’t deserve to see him. He almost died!”

“So, Steve, I was running some numbers, and it looks like…” Howard stops at the door and looks up from his tablet. “What’s going on here?”

 “Your son almost got Bucky killed. Now he wants to make sure he’s all right.” Steve scoffs. “He wouldn’t have to if he had just kept his mask on.”

 Howard shakes his head. “When has Anthony ever been rational? He’s an idiot. Now, Tony, leave us so Steve and I can discuss.”

 “Whatever.” Tony throws up his hands. It’s not like he’ll get anywhere trying to argue with these two. Neither of them like him, and they’re just going to dismiss him anyways.

 Tony understands why Steve is so protective of Bucky. He was captured by the government at one point and experimented on. They wanted to turn him into an invincible mindless AIM agent that would destroy the rebellion once and for all. Luckily, Steve was able to sneak in, thanks to Howard and Peggy, and free Bucky. It took a while for Bucky to readjust to his life, and he was kept in isolation for a long time. Now, Steve freaks out if even the slightest thing happens to him.

 Slamming his hand against the wall, Tony groans and walks into his makeshift lab. He does most of the updating and innovation now. Howard used to but as his health is declining to his great dismay, he reluctantly passed the role off to Tony. Howard doesn’t hesitate to rip Tony apart any chance he can get, even if Tony’s update works excellently.

 He grumbles as he fixes up his mask. He’s going to make this thing nigh indestructible. DUME wheels over, cocking his claw as if asking a question. “It’s ok, DUME, it was my fault, but I’m just mad.”

 “Why didn’t you just tell Steve yours broke?” Tony jumps as he hears Nat’s voice from the doorway.

 “Gah. Nat, I have a condition!” He yelps. “You know he won’t care. It’s me. I’m always fucking up. I’m sure if it were up to Howard, he’d send me out without a mask to fend for myself. Luckily, Steve cares a little about human lives, even if he’s not a fan of the human himself.”

 Natasha walks in and pats DUME on the head. He squeals and wheels around in circles excitedly. Tony smiles. “He already has a crush on you. Don’t encourage him.”

“Tony. I know why you don’t want to make a big deal about it. You guys have been very subtle and sneaky, but I know. No matter what, you should tell Steve that your mask broke.”

 “I’m not going to. And you’re not either.” Tony points a finger at her.

 She smiles sweetly. “I dare you to stop me.” And walks out, closing the door behind her.  

 Tony groans again and bangs his head on the countertop. What is his life?

 ++++++

Bucky wakes up with a start. Tony is dying… or hurt… or… Bucky struggles to find air. It feels like someone just sucked out his lungs.

 “Bucky. Bucky. Hey, you’re safe.” Steve is there.

 He sucks in a large breath and starts to cough. “Where’s cough Tony cough? Is…” His sentence gets cut off by a series of hacking coughs.

 Steve waits until Bucky calms before he schools his face and says stiffly, “Tony’s fine. He should be the least of your worries. It’s his fault you got hurt.”

 “I had a dream that he was in pain. Is he here?”

 “It’s just the neurotoxins from the gas,” Bruce explains calmly. “Tony’s fine.”

 “I need to see him.”

 “Bucky, please. He’s fine.” Steve starts to argue, but Bucky just pleads.

 “Steve, you should know why I need to see him. Just… let me see him, please?” Bucky has told Steve about the nightmares he’d had after Steve rescued him from the government. Bucky would have to sleep in the same room as Steve so that he knew that Steve was still there, alive and well. A physical touch went a long way for Bucky after these nightmares.

 Steve can’t say no to the fear in Bucky’s eyes, so he calls for Tony to come to medical. Tony arrives a few minutes later, shifting from foot-to-foot. Bucky latches onto his Sun, the center of his universe, immediately. “Tony,” he breathes.

 ++++++

Tony is helping | Rhodey with his new armor when Steve’s voice crackles through the speaker. “Tony, report to medical immediately.”

 “What did you do?” Rhodey asks. He is the only person Tony told about him and Bucky. He knows he can trust Rhodey to keep a secret.

 Tony raises his hands. “I didn’t do anything! Maybe that’s what the problem is.” He shakes his head. “I better go before I get reduced to dishwashing duty only or something.”

 He races down to the medical and stops at the door when he sees Bucky is awake. Bucky is looking at him with relief and adoration in his eyes. “Tony,” He says, almost reverently.

 “Hi Bucky.” Tony smiles sadly. “I’m glad to see you’re alright.” He turns to Steve. “Did you need something?”

 Steve nods to Bucky who has reached his arms out and is now wiggling his fingers at Tony. “Go to him. He needs to make sure you’re ok.”

 What the hell is going on here? Did Bucky tell Steve? Tony thinks incredulously as he walks over to Bucky. And Steve is supportive? Then he remembers Bucky telling him about nightmares he has that feel so real, he needs physical reassurance. “Hey Bucky. I’m ok. I’m alright, thanks to you. You saved me.”

 Bucky pets Tony’s hair and runs his hand down the side of his face. “You’re ok.” He says softly. “Tony, darling, I almost died in those nightmares. If you weren’t here? What’s the point?”

 “I’m sure you could live without me.” Tony doesn’t know what to say. Are they still keeping it a secret? Are they not? He doesn’t know.

 “No.” Bucky clutches Tony’s hand to his heart. “I love you, Tony. You’re my life, my love. When you fell and I saw that your mask was cracked, I knew I had to give you mine. I knew I’d be fine without one, but you wouldn’t have been. Don’t ever scare me like that again, love.”

 Tony’s heart melts. “Hey Winter Wonder. I love you, too. Don’t worry, I’ll be staying in for a long time. Now, it’s just me who has to worry about you.”

 “I’ll be extra careful.” Bucky smiles and closes his eyes. “Now kiss me.”

 Steve gapes and sputters. Tony doesn’t care. He leans down and kisses Bucky, who sighs in happiness and kisses back. When the kiss goes past PG, Steve clears his throat, and Tony pulls back. “So, um, you and… and… Bucky.” He looks like he swallowed a lemon.

 “Yep.” Tony challenges Steve to say something.

 “Oh… I didn’t know…” He just mutters.

 Bucky whines and pulls Tony back to him, seemingly oblivious of everyone else in the room. Tony sits on the bed next to him, and Bucky nuzzles into Tony’s hip. He falls back asleep very quickly. Steve sits in the room with them for a few minutes, then excuses himself.

 “Call me if he wakes,” Bruce whispers and heads out, too.

 Tony pulls out his phone and plays a game that he programmed for a little while. He soon gets drowsy and leans back against the headboard and falls asleep. Having been moved down to lie beside his lover, he wakes up a few hours later to see Bucky’s face inches from his. “Hi,” he whispers.

 Bucky is more lucid now, and he asks, “Did we just out ourselves to Steve?”

 “I think so. Is that ok?” Tony’s eyes search Bucky’s face for any sign of anger.

 “I don’t care. I just wanted to make sure you’re not mad at me.” Bucky squeezes his hand. “I was the one who said something first.”

 “You should have seen Steve’s face.” Tony laughs. He recounts how Steve reacted to Bucky, who laughs loudly, then clutches his chest. “Note to self, don’t make Bucky laugh until he heals.”

 Tony stays with Bucky until he heals. Steve comes to see him after Bucky is released and Tony is back in his lab. Bucky is under his table, blowing him. Tony steels himself, waiting to be reprimanded. Steve clears his throat and says, “So, Natasha told me that your mask broke.”

 “Yeah. It snapped on a rock, but I fixed it. It shouldn’t break anymore.” Tony holds up the mask. Bucky changes his technique and Tony lurches. “Sorry that it wasn’t in the begi-”

 Steve cuts him off. “No, I’m sorry. I’ve been treating you wrongly, and it | was not fair of me to treat you so. You are a big help to this team, and I’ve treated you like I would someone who slacks off at every turn. Unfortunately, I believe I’ve been influenced by Howard, but I plan to change that. Can you forgive me?”

 “Sure…?” Tony is dumbstruck. Never in a thousand years did Tony expect Steve to apologize. It’s also hard for Tony to concentrate when Bucky’s doing that to him. “It’s alright Cap. No harm done.” Tony bites his lip to keep from moaning.

 “No, it’s not. And I am going to change. You're cleared for missions, too. Thank you, Tony.” He makes to leave, then turns back. No Steve, just go. I can’t hold it in any longer. “And Tony? You are good for Bucky. I’m happy for you both.”

 Tony gapes. Steve said what? “Did you hear that?” He asks. “Did he say what I… ughhhh… thought he said, or am I oh fuck Bucky just hnng dreaming?”

 Bucky just swallows him to the root, and Tony spills over the edge. Bucky swallows every last drop, tucks him back in, and says, “I definitely heard it, babe.”

 Tony lets him come out from under the desk, then pushes him into the chair. “My turn.” He locks the lab door and prepares to give Bucky the best head he’s given yet. The future might look bleak, but Tony and Bucky are just enjoying the moment.

[tuxiedjabberwock]

The Centurion and the Black Angel - Kid Icarus one-shot

When Pit gives his life on the battlefield to save Dark Pit's, he decides to look into a new Mirror of Truth in order to bring him back. ...He really should have thought things through better.

Category: Games » Kid Icarus Author: Sqydd Language: English, Rating: Rated: T Genre: Angst/Tragedy Published: 11-04-20, Updated: 11-04-20 Chapters: 1, Words: 11,074 

Fanfiction.net

AO3

Quotev

"Pittoo?"

A dream. A bad, horrible, dreadful, unthinkable dream, that's what it was. After all, it was too improbable to be the real deal, wasn't it? To see that insufferable mouth sealed shut, a deep crimson staining his lips; those blue eyes which always sparkled with energy and life gazing blankly to the sky.

"Pittoo? What's the situation? Where is Pit?"

I'm wondering that too, he thought, slipping a hand under dampened hair and lifting his head from where it fell into the shallows. Pit's laurel crown was buried in the pond's muck; Dark Pit pulled it free with his other hand and replaced it where it belonged.

"I'm coming down there to check on you. Don't move, especially if you're badly injured; you can bleed out."

Blood… That was a funny thing. Humans bled profusely when struck by divine weaponry. That blood was almost scalding until it began to cool against the lukewarm swamp water, and it congealed at Dark Pit's ankles where they rested at the shoreline. The shadow of his Silver Bow fell over them from where it stood impaled in a soldier's chest with the setting sun's rays falling over them in gentle reds and purples. His hands began shaking and his vision blurred with tears.

"Pit…you…damn…idiot," he whispered, bowing his head against the original's. His whole body was shaking and he couldn't stop it. Maybe it was compensating for his original, who could no longer tremble in fear. "Fucking…idiot…why did you…why did you even…don't you know…?"

A soft musical tone began behind him before something fell into the mud. Palutena gave a surprised cry, then she said tentatively, "Dark Pit? Are you alright?"

That was it. Those words severed the last bits of self-control Dark Pit held. The Goddess of Light asked if he was alright, and he was. I'm alright, he thought as tears poured down his cheeks and dripped onto Pit's face, cutting through the caked-on grime. His shoulders bowed and he gritted his teeth against the wails erupting from his throat.

I'm alright because your stupid angel gave his life for a copy.

There were a lot of tears shed in the heavens for the next week. Palutena did most of the crying, albeit out of sight, but Dark Pit could hear her moans in the middle of the night. Viridi saved hers until the golden tablet was placed over Pit's mouth, and Dark Pit turned to see her staring with wide and wet eyes. Phosphora retreated once his body was buried among the grass and fields, her cheeks already glistening, and Phos and Lux brayed in mourning.

Dark Pit had no tears left, but he made sure the Palutena Bow was clenched in Pit's hands before he went under. In case Hades tried to screw with him in the afterlife…or so his justification went. Mostly it made his heart ache to see the blades even after the human blood was meticulously scrubbed away.

"What happened?" Palutena's voice was soft and motherly as it always was, no trace of accusation there, but Dark Pit felt like sinking into the deepest hole anyway. He averted his eyes and stared at his fingers wrapped around the grip of his Silver Bow.

"It was a human army versus Hades' army running 10:1. The humans had the advantage, but the dark energy produced by the monsters made them wilder, more unpredictable." He spoke in a detached voice that kept him grounded; he stated the facts as telling a story, not reliving the worst day of his short life. "Not only did we have to fight back the monsters, we had to save them from themselves. Pit did, and he tried his damn hardest like always. Didn't let a single human die."

Not a human died. Not one human died under Pit's watch.

"And then?" Viridi, standing off to the side, looked on with an unreadable expression as Dark Pit's fingers tightened. He fought the urge to retreat into himself.

"One of the humans snuck up on me." Stupid him for not sensing the man's presence. Stupid him for being so slow to react. Stupid him for— "Pit covered me. A—…And it was the last thing he did."

She should have shouted at him. He wanted her to rebuke him for the worst mistake of his short life. Instead, she sighed and gave a little chuckle. "Heh. That's our stupid angel, alright."

He wasn't proud of it, but he took the holy weapon forged by the Goddess of Light and speared the human through the heart. He shoved the blades in with so much force that several ribs were also broken on impact, and the momentum carried the grown man deep into the dirt. He wasn't proud of it because he knew Pit would hate his weapon being sullied like that, even if it was in his name. Especially because it was in the name of revenge.

Pit suffered a painless death; before he hit the ground, he was gone, the sword's handle still protruding from his back like some sick joke. Dark Pit removed it with the utmost care and set him down in a more comfortable position, as if such a thing mattered in death, before taking up the Silver Bow. He couldn't recall much of what transpired after—it remained a stubborn blur in his mind to date—but his memories afterwards began with him standing amidst a sea of carnage. The Underworld Army, of course, left no trace, but human corpses decorated the ground around him.

He couldn't bring himself to care.

Subsequently, he spent a lot of time in Skyworld, ignoring Viridi's calls to lounge around in Pit's old hangout spots. He had a private hot spring not far from his quarters, shaded by white marble pillars holding up an arched roof and surrounded by lush green grass and wildflowers. Dark Pit enjoyed sitting at the shore, nude ankles submerged in the warm golden water.

"Viridi was asking about you." The grass crunched behind him before Palutena sat primly beside him, legs folded and dress fanning out around her. Dark Pit kept his gaze on the small waves.

"Viridi has hordes of acolytes to do her dirty work. I'm allowed to take a break. Let them scare off whatever human stepped on a sapling this time."

"That's not what she was asking about." Palutena's delicate hand landed atop his on the grass; he quickly pulled it away and she didn't react. "She and the rest of us are concerned. No one was closer in mind and spirit as you to Pit."

"Well don't be concerned. I'm fine." He spat the word like bitter poison, not at all helping his case, but he hated it. Hated being treated like paper, hated knowing Pit died for a stupid copy, hated knowing the only person who related to him in the world was gone and he was alone, would live alone for an angel's long long life and die alone…

"I didn't say you weren't," she said smoothly, "but that doesn't make me any less concerned for you. I care about you, Pittoo. And by the way, you've been brooding in this spot for five hours—that's not what fine people do."

"So what if I have been brooding? Aren't I allowed to grieve in my own way? You've been moaning up a storm like a ghost." He could hear her affronted gasp. "You may have been Pit's goddess, but I am not Pit. You don't need to give me your concern, nor do I need it. The only thing I need is for you to let me be, Palutena."

"…As you wish, then. But you know where to find me." She stood up, dusted herself off, and with a smile in Dark Pit's direction, she took her leave.

"The same goes for you, Viridi."

Puh-lease, Viridi said, voice echoing out from his fibula. The tough guy act may work on Palutena, but not on me. You're hurting.

"Aren't we all? Leave me alone."

Fine then. Don't do anything stupid. And she left with a poignant huff.

"Don't do anything stupid, huh…" He chuckled mirthlessly. His stupid acts only happened around Pit, though another person would call them selfless. Things like helping him fight the Chaos Kin to revive Palutena, and journeying to Hell to save Pit's life, destroying the gates to the Underworld and helping to weaken Hades. Yeah, when it came to Pit, he didn't think too rationally, and only now when it was too late to say so, he realized it was more than just an obligation to the "original." He cared deeply for Pit…and now he was gone forever.

"Dammit!" he roared, kicking the water at his feet. His reflection distorted before resettling, revealing the tear tracks running from his scarlet eyes. He hissed and threw an arm over his face, falling back onto the grass. "Stupid, stupid, why did he take that hit, why did he have to die…?"

He took longer than he wanted to calm down, and when he finally sat up again he felt drained, physically and emotionally. He knelt and lowered his face to the water, splashing the warmth across his splotchy cheeks to clean them up. He sighed when the soppy feeling left and glared down into his puffy-eyed reflection.

"Just a stupid reflection, is all I am…why did he have to—"

Dark Pit stopped cold and stared harder, digging his fingers into the soft dirt. "I'm a reflection," he breathed, eyes wide. An imperfect one, but a reflection nonetheless. If he could look into the Mirror of Truth again, another opposite would be created—a Pit would be created. It would fix everything!

But the Mirror was shattered when he was "born." He clearly remembered shattering it. But…but…Pandora had been revived in the Rewind Spring as Amazon Pandora. If she was still hanging around, perhaps she created another Mirror. It was a hell of a long shot, but honestly, what else did he have to lose?

The issue was locating her now. He would have to ask around on the surface, preferably not where they were last time. If only he had a contact…suddenly, Dark Pit recalled a story Pit told him of a human associate. Perhaps he did have a contact?

Vigor renewed, Dark Pit yanked on his sandals and raced to the edge of Skyworld, throwing himself into the cold clouds below. "Viridi, grant me the Power of Flight!" he shouted.

Someone's pushy about it, she grumbled, but her earthen energy filled him all the same. Where's the fire, angel boy?

He ignored her and folded his wings back in a dive, cutting through the air like a spear and towards the mountainous ground. Here's hoping he wasn't getting his spirit worked up for nothing.

In an out of the way town that reeked of danger and blood, Dark Pit walked into a bar. The decidedly unfriendly looking patrons turned to sneer at him, but his responding glare turned them right back around. He had eyes only for the broad leather-clad back sitting at the bar counter.

"Magnus?"

Said back turned, revealing a scruffy middle-aged human holding a cup of ale. He looked Dark Pit up and down and remarked, "Unless you've turned emo since I last saw you, which I somehow doubt, you must not be Pit?"

"Dark Pit," he said. "Pit has…Pit died in battle."

Magnus' previously lax expression turned blank, then he raised his ale. "Here's to him, then." He slammed back the alcohol and dropped the cup on the counter. "Terrible thing. That kid had a lot of fire."

"He did. Which is why I want to bring him back. Have you heard anything about Pandora?" Magnus raised an eyebrow.

"The goddess Pandora, I'm assuming? Yeah, I've heard a few things here and there." Dark Pit took a seat next to Magnus and waved down the bartender, holding up two fingers. The bartender set two glasses of ale down for each of them. Magnus looked on curiously as Dark Pit downed it in one gulp. "You two aren't the same, that's for sure," he remarked.

"Well, spill what you know."

"Normally I'd charge for my information, but call it a freebie for an old friend." Magnus took a few swallows before speaking again. "Heard she was seen on the outskirts of that huge forest where the town was, way up north."

Reset Bomb Forest. Viridi didn't keep tabs of the area anymore, so it was reasonable to assume Pandora was hiding out there. Dark Pit slapped down a few coins and slid off the stool.

"Thanks. I'll be heading out."

"One more thing." Magnus finished his ale and levelled a sober look at the dark angel. "Whatever you got in mind, don't let it be the death of ya. I barely knew angel-face and I could tell ya, he wouldn't like that."

"Trust me," Dark Pit muttered, turning away and sidling to the door, "I know."

Outside he took to the sky in one big leap. He had already used his Power of Flight, but this time the winds were in his favor; he glided across the small dilapidated buildings until they turned to naked rock, then lush pink foliage. He flapped his wings to gain some altitude as purple crystals jutted from the earth like spears, but very soon he was forced to land. The thick forestry cut the wind and he could glide no farther.

The forest was so thick only the barest lines of sun made it through; it was all he could do to see his own two feet as he fought not to trip and fall on a bed of random barbs…again.

"The things I do for this angel," he grumbled, picking a thorn out of his cheek. He tried not to think too hard about what he was doing, because then doubts would surface. What if the Mirror didn't work? What if there was no Mirror? What if he looked into it and nothing came, because…what if he didn't have a soul? He waved the thoughts away and moved a little faster, stumbling over a gnarled branch.

"Hey Pittoo, guess what?"

"Buzz off," Pittoo grumbled, not opening his eyes. "And don't call me that."

"It's my birthday!" Pit continued undaunted.

"Great. So what?"

Dark Pit was grabbed around the shoulders and pulled up from his lounging position. He growled and opened his eyes, watching Pit prance excitedly around on the green grass, wings stretched high and flapping madly. "Think about it," he said with a wide grin, coming to a stop a few feet away.

"The only thing I'm thinking about is kicking your ass and continuing my nap."

"Come on, don't you get tired of being a grouch all the time? Well anyway, this'll cheer you up." Pit suddenly thrust a messily wrapped brown package in Dark Pit's face. He took it with no small measure of confusion.

"Um. Thanks? What?"

"It's my birthday," Pit repeated, "and since you're me, it's your birthday to. So…happy birthday!"

Pittoo was absolutely floored and watched Pit gesture excitedly at the present. Haltingly, he pulled apart the thin paper to reveal a small cardboard box. He pulled the lid off and saw a small doll that sort of looked like him if he squinted. "Did you…make this?"

"Yeah. Um, I'm not too good at knitting, but Lady Palutena said it's the thought that counts." He laughed awkwardly and rubbed his neck. "And, uh, it's filled with your and my feathers? I'm thinking about it now and it seems a little creepy…"

"No, it's…uh…" He ducked his head a little to hide the flush creeping up his neck. "Um. Thanks, Pit."

Dark Pit gritted his teeth. That doll was still in his little alcove in Viridi's world. When he revived Pit—because he definitely would—he would come up with something equally as nice to give him.

He heard the faint sound of mumbling and picked up the pace as much as he could, flapping his wings to get the slightest bit above ground. He felt like a damn chicken without the Power of Flight.

He felt a thick branch sloping upwards and scaled up, avoiding the little thorns until it begins to level out. He peered through a break in the violet leaves and saw one of the old human structures, a large two storied building with crumbling walls interwoven by thick branches and curling ivy. Sunlight shone through the canopy above and coalesced on something at the tip of the structure.

"Why is Hades ignoring me now? Stupid bloathead," Pandora was saying as her back floated into view. Dark Pit leaned forward with a grimace. "I thought we had a nice thing going…and the Hearts he paid me were delightful." She rose higher to the ceiling of the building and glanced his way; he ducked his head. "Well, at least I managed to create this beautiful Mirror."

Mirror!

He leapt through the leaves and into the clearing. Pandora spun around and her face twisted in anger. "You stupid angel, you aren't shattering my Mirror a second time!"

He scanned the area until he spotted the Mirror on top of the building. The frame was made of twisted branches and the glass was reflecting the sunlight from the open canopy. He just needed to look into it and—

He dodged to the side as one of Pandora's heart missiles struck the ground where he was standing. He whipped out the Silver Bow and fired a volley of arrows; she twirled and vanished, avoiding the attack before reappearing above his head and dropping a large purple bomb. He fired an arrow and the explosion released a cloud of pink smoke, obscuring his vision.

"The last I heard, the cuter angel kicked the bucket. Is that true?"

Dark Pit growled and spun, not before taking a kick to the shoulder and falling in the dirt. He rolled out of the way of another projectile and to his feet, jumping above the smokescreen and onto a beam jutting from the building. Just one look, just one look and everything will be fine—

"No, don't look in the Mirror!" Pandora launched another heart right at the glass, then her eyes widened in shock. He was still too far, he had to stop it somehow; he couldn't let her shatter the mirror!

"No—!" Dark Pit launched himself in the air and intercepted the projectile, which slammed him in the gut like one of Pit's clubs. The air left his lungs in a pained gasp and his wings seized up, leaving only his momentum carrying him backwards into the Mirror of Truth. He felt the coldness of the glass for a mere moment before it shattered against his back, peppering his skin with tiny shards. He fell through the emptied frame and to the hard-packed dirt below.

"No…no!" He shot into a sitting position, eyes wide as he beheld the frame full of broken shards. Tears welled in the corners of his eyes and his fists balled against his aching stomach. "D—Dammit…!"

Plunk.

"What? No!" Pandora's disbelieving shriek caught his attention. He looked past her floating form to the source of her ire…a small white-clothed form balled on the ground. Could it be…no…no, it had to be.

Pain forgotten, Dark Pit lurched to his feet and leapt forward, past the enraged goddess and to the prone form in the dirt. Pit was exactly as he had been, down to the untamed bedhead, though he was completely unconscious. A relieved, borderline dopey smile crossed Dark Pit's face, and tears did run down his cheeks, happy ones. He lifted Pit's face to press their foreheads together.

You're back…

Pandora's continued screams reminded Dark Pit there was an urgent matter to attend to. Glancing around, he quickly spotted his Silver Bow poking out from the mud nearby. He threw himself into a roll and snatched it up, notching an arrow and taking aim at Pandora. She looked down at him with an expression of pure fury.

"Do you know how hard I worked to revive that Mirror? You're dead!" She sent a flurry of purple hearts towards him and he released his arrow into the center of the storm before taking to the air. Pandora disappeared with a twirl and Dark Pit didn't have time to react before a slim hand latched around his neck. Her momentum carried him backwards into a pile of brambles; the thorns tore into his back and he gritted his teeth against the scream of pain that wanted to rise.

"You're the one who will die, Pandora." He broke the bow into swords and cut her hand at the wrist. She pulled away with a scream, her handless wrist streaming golden ichor, her wristless hand dripping onto Dark Pit's clothes like acid. He tore the hand away and righted himself, landing on his toes on a branch and launching himself up again. Pandora pulled her unharmed arm back for an attack and he tossed the sword like a knife. Another shield appeared, and her expression turned panicked when he broke the shield with his body, jabbing the remaining sword into her gut.

They fell back to earth and her face was frozen in shock even in her death. He leapt backwards before her body melted into ichor, scoffing quietly before turning to Pit. He hadn't moved and Dark Pit couldn't hide his concern. Collecting the Silver Bow, he returned to Pit's body and cradled him to his chest. "Palutena?" he called.

"Dark Pit, what's going on?"

"Take me to Skyworld, please."

She hesitated and he heard her swallow. A…Alright. Light surrounded him and lifted his wings; Pit's fluttered weakly but otherwise he didn't respond. Dark Pit's brow furrowed and his anxiety grew.

"What's wrong with him?"

Palutena and Viridi were waiting for him in the main hall. Palutena's eyes widened and she dropped her staff; Viridi's jaw dropped quite unattractively. Dark Pit stumbled his way to Palutena, whose arms raised automatically to catch Pit when he was all but dropped. "Help him," Dark Pit whispered before he hit the ground.

Dark Pit woke in a room unfamiliar to him. The bed was large and soft, made of down feathers and silk sheets rather than Viridi's rocks covered in leaves. He blinked groggily and looked around; a window looked out to the cover of clouds and there was a steel basin at the side of the bed. He peered over the lip and realized it was full of hot spring water.

Dragging his legs over the side of the bed, he forced them rigid and stood up, falling over and grabbing the nightstand before he faceplanted on the marble. His boy felt numb and heavy altogether and he kind of just wanted to lie down and die, but he had to make sure Pit was okay. He glanced around and saw his Silver Bow leaning against the wall; he took it and braced his boy against it with two hands, keeping his shaky body upright. His burnt robes were gone, leaving him only in his shorts and rings of slightly spotted bandages around his stomach and back. He gritted his teeth and pulled the door open.

He stumbled around blindly for a bit before catching wisps of Palutena and Viridi's voices. He followed the sounds down a branching hall and found them arguing softly in front of a door. Viridi was facing him and spotted him first; her hazel eyes narrowed slightly and she smirked.

"Well, let's let Pittoo clear up the details," she said. Palutena turned and Dark Pit was alarmed to see her eyes so bloodshot. It was like she was grieving a second time. His heart fell. No, don't let him have died a second time because of me…no, no way…

"Dark Pit?" she said softly. Dark Pit made his ambling way over until Palutena's hands laid on his shoulders, keeping him upright. "Please, can you tell us what happened?"

"First, I want to see Pit," he gasped. The goddesses exchanged a look and Viridi's smile soured.

"Why not?" she shrugged, passing Palutena to open the door. He caught a glance of Pit among a blue-sheeted bed and piles of stuffed animals—must be the idiot's bedroom—and he was no more awake than before. The door shut again and Viridi folded her arms across her chest. "Okay, explanation time."

"The Mirror of Truth," he said softly. Palutena gasped while Viridi gritted her teeth.

"Dark Pit," Palutena said urgently, "tell me you didn't create Pit using a Mirror." He hesitated before nodding and all the color left her face. "This is…oh, no, this can't be…"

"Why?"

"Because you're damaged goods," Viridi said bluntly. Had he possessed the energy, he would have lashed out, but so far it was taking everything he had to remain upright. "When you were created, it was with Pit, who has a complete soul; the Mirror was shattered halfway through and your soul wasn't completely formed. It's incomplete. Now you took that and made another half-copy."

"Are you saying there's something wrong with me?" he growled. Palutena huffed and turned his head back to her.

"It's just unnatural," she insisted. "In the first place, the Mirror is not meant for beings with souls; that's why it only worked on the Underworld Army. Pit's energy allowed you to be created. We just…we don't know what this can mean, especially since Pit is still unconscious. If he wakes, he could be what you were meant to: completely evil."

"Of course, if he wakes up," Viridi added casually. "The vegetable-hater could end up being a vegetable himself."

"Viridi!" he snapped, then groaned at the ache it left in his stomach. Palutena hushed him, running a hand through his hair. He hated how pleasing the gesture felt.

"Let's get you back to bed first. You're still too weak to be up and about."

He didn't have the energy to fight as Palutena took one of his arms and led him back to the room he woke up in. She laid him down and took a cloth from the basin, wringing it out before setting it on his forehead.

"You're a bit feverish," she said as way of explanation. Viridi sighed and sat in an ornate chair.

"There are many things that can go wrong, Pittoo. Don't you think we knew that Pandora had the Mirror? Why do you think we didn't try it ourselves?"

"Who's to say it will be 'Pit' in the end?" Palutena said softly. "Maybe he won't have any memories, maybe his personality will change… It was all just one big risk. It still is until he wakes and we can know for sure."

"So what if he doesn't remember? So what if he's a little different? He'll still be Pit," Dark Pit said. Palutena sighed.

"It's not only about that… We've moved on, we have accepted his death. It was a very terrible thing and we wish it didn't happen, but it did. He died protecting you, and we know he would be happy with that fact. You're the only one who isn't."

"Don't make me out to be in the wrong here," he muttered. "If you had a chance to bring Pit back, you would have too."

"Did you hear what she just said?" Viridi said derisively, then groaned. "It doesn't matter. It's already been ten days; Pit has no injuries but he won't wake. It's not looking good for him."

Dark Pit fought down his rising despair and scowled. "Just wait."

"And for how long exactly? We're immortal, but things can still be pointless."

"What Viridi is trying to say in her own tactless way," Palutena said, "Dark Pit…"

"I know what she's trying to say," he interjected. "I don't care. Let me be responsible for him then, however…he may come out of this." If at all. "I'm the one who made this decision, I will be accountable."

Palutena chewed her lower lip, then set her hands between her legs. The fabric couldn't quite hide their trembles. "Let's see how things look in another fortnight, then. It will take about that long for your injuries to fully heal."

"I can take care of myself," he said. Viridi rolled her eyes.

"And then he goes and throws himself through another magic mirror…"

"Viridi!" Palutena chided. Viridi threw her hands up placatingly with a shrug.

"Just saying."

Palutena appeared at least once a day to look over him and make sure he was healing properly. Once he was well enough to get around, he spent his evenings in Pit's hot spring, relishing the soothing heat against his torn back. The delicate bones of his wings had thankfully survived the fall, but some of his primary feathers were ripped out. They were already partly grown back.

When he returned to his unofficial room on the fourteenth day, he found new black robes neatly folded on the sheets that smelled like cow manure. He was already tired of Pit's white clothes, but he couldn't say the fertilizer smell was better. He slipped on the familiar colors and sighed, turning to his Silver Bow.

"Now or never…"

He slung the weapon across his back and relished the security it brought. He would need all his nerve for this.

Dark Pit had memorized the short journey to Pit's room in his convalescent time and made not one errant step on the way. He pushed the door open a crack and peered at the bed; he hadn't moved an inch same as before. He stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

"It's now or never, idiot," he said, walking up to the bed. Floor to ceiling windows lined the adjacent wall, facing the gardens where centurions practiced their moves. The courtyard was empty now, leaving only the sense of what was once there.

Dark Pit sat in the chair at Pit's bedside; still, the angel did not stir. "I knew what I was risking when I went for the Mirror, but I did it anyway. So you can't just not wake up—you can't just not be Pit. I…I haven't moved on and I know it. I feel empty without you around, and it's ridiculous; since when have I needed your inane jokes to fill some void? But the fact is, Pit, I just…I j-ju…please, wake up already."

No movement on the bed. Dark Pit lowered his face to his hands, gripping it so tightly he felt sure his fingers would leave bruises. Good; he wanted his face to be different, wanted to look and see something other than the useless copy that not only killed Pit once, but twice…! Gods would he hate himself for this; he would curse his own name until the day the breath left his body.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "So sorry, so so sorry…"

When he raised his head, Pit was sitting up in bed. Dark Pit nearly fell from the chair in shock.

Pit's eyes were fuzzy with sleep as they roamed the room. Dark Pit held his breath, waiting for something, anything. They finally landed on the black angel and no kind of recognition showed. He wondered if Pit really had lost his memories, or worse, as Viridi predicted.

"Pit?" Dark Pit hedged, leaning forward slightly. Pit blinked slowly, scanning his face for what felt like an hour. His white wings flapped with unease before curling around his skinny torso. "Do you…understand what I'm saying? Not that you really did before, moron," he muttered under his breath, more to soothe himself with some familiarity than actually throwing a jab out there. Then, to his utter shock:

"Not a moron!"

His head snapped back to Pit so quickly he nearly got whiplash. Pit's brows were drawn into a frown and his eyes were alight, polished by indignant anger. Dark Pit lunged onto the bed with one knee, grabbing Pit's cheeks and staring him down.

"Pit, is that you? For real?"

Pit fell silent again, eyes scanning Dark Pit once more, and he wondered if he imagined things. He didn't respond as the seconds ticked on and Dark Pit made to move away, but Pit's hands snapped up and gripped his wrists tightly. A tiny smile crossed his face.

"Hey, Pittoo, are you crying?"

His excitement overweighed his resentment at being caught teary-eyed—which he absolutely wasn't, by the way. His arms went around Pit and Palutena's angel let out a little surprised squeak. "You're okay," Pittoo said into his wing. Pit gasped, then relaxed into the hold.

"I'm okay," he repeated.

Palutena cried a lot. So much that Dark Pit felt awkward being there, but Pit didn't want him to leave. She held him close and sobbed and he nuzzled into the side of her neck without a word.

Viridi wasn't nearly so emotional. She looked Pit up and down with a derisive snort, nodded, and left. Dark Pit did catch an unnatural glisten to her eyes though.

Pit spent a lot of time asleep, but when he was awake he was very cognizant, albeit sluggish when it came to expressing his thoughts. Palutena wanted Dark Pit to monitor him since he hung around so often, but so far Dark Pit thought things worked out. There were no apparent drastic consequences apart from the lethargy—which he assumed to be temporary—and Pit was becoming more expressive by the day.

"Pittoo," he said, drawing him from his thoughts. He was hugging a star-shaped pillow to his chest and staring through the window at the clouds beyond. "D'ya think Lady Palutena would be okay with letting me fly?"

"Dunno, it's only been a few weeks—she's just barely managed to stop bawling her eyes out when you took a dump on your own."

"Yeah, but…I miss the air." Pit opened his mouth as if he had more to say, then shut it again. He didn't need to explain, Dark Pit understood. And, well, who was he to deny the one who rose from the grave anyway?

"Alright then. Let's go." Pit's head snapped back to his double, eyes comically wide and feathers askew.

"Right now?"

"I thought you meant right now. Cold feet?" Dark Pit smirked as he slid an arm around Pit's bony back, gripping him firmly on his ribcage. With his help, Pit slid to his feet and remained standing, although his wings fluttered reflexively to maintain his balance. Together, they ambled their slow way over to the gates of Skyworld, which parted in their presence and left them to face the great beyond.

"Palutena?" Pit said softly.

I don't think this is a good idea, Pit, Palutena responded, her voice ringing through Dark Pit's head as well as Pit's. You're still recovering, and I don't want anything to happen to you.

"Palutena, please. For a week all I've done is lie around and have people worry over me. At first, I was happy to have Pittoo at my beck and call," he sent a small smile in Pittoo's direction despite his scowl, "but I…I want to fly. I can't explain it."

"Remember it's my job to keep an eye on him," Dark Pit said. She was silent and he moved Pit forward. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be," he said. Dark Pit wrapped an arm around Pit's waist and they fell forward into the endless sky.

"Viridi, grant me the Power of Flight!"

Ya know, it'd be nice if you did me some favors once in a while, she said mockingly, but gave him the power all the same. His wings spread overhead, bathing Pit's face in the greens and golds as he looked at the clouds below in wonder.

"It'll get cold," Pittoo warned before they dove into the cloud cover. Pit's hair was plastered to his forehead from the damp and he shivered a bit but the grin never left his face.

"I missed this." The clouds passed and they were soaring over a human town. Pit frowned at the sight as a dark cloud passed over his face. "Dark Pit…you never told me how I came back."

Dark Pit sighed. Pit eventually recalled his death, though he never described it—not that the dark angel wanted to hear it—but no one really told him how he'd revived. Palutena mentioned Dark Pit was the cause but that was about it. "Well, before I begin, remember that you've done far stupider things."

"That's a good sign," he said with a little smile.

"It… I used—"

An arrow suddenly flew inches past Dark Pit's nose. They looked down to see a small portion of the Underworld Army at the outskirts of the town; the humans were fighting valiantly, but Twinbellows was heading the attack and they were losing ground.

"Let's get down there," Pit said immediately. Pittoo's face went cold.

"We…can't. As your goddess said, you're still healing." Pit was already shaking his head before Dark Pit finished speaking.

"Pit," Palutena interjected, anxiety clear in her tone.

"Lady Palutena, please," Pit said when Pittoo made no moves to lower them, "the Power of Flight."

"We can't lose you again. It's far too risky. You shouldn't have come out at all—"

"Palutena!" he shouted, startling even Dark Pit. "The Underworld Army is there!"

"…Dark Pit?"

"I won't…" Pit gave him a scathing look and Pittoo matched it. "I won't allow it."

"Fine then!" In an alarming show of strength, Pit ripped Dark Pit's hand from his side and began to plummet. Dark Pit folded his wings back and dove after, but Pit had already begun to glide. Dark Pit was shocked to see Pit had grabbed the Silver Bow from his back.

"Dark Pit!" Palutena cried.

"I know!"

Their midair chase continued until they were low enough that Dark Pit could see the humans' bloody and bruised faces. Truth be told, after what had happened, he cared much less for what became of them; something Viridi appreciated as her ecological escapades could be callous at best towards them. But if anything was an indication of Pit still being Pit, this was it: throwing himself headlong into the fray with a half-functioning body and non-functioning brain. Gods, he hated that kid sometimes.

Pit's first three shots were wobbly and terribly off-mark; he missed the Monoeye by a longshot, and that thing was the definition of a target. He didn't react initially and alighted directly behind them, stumbling a bit on weak legs. Dark Pit followed right after and seized him by the forearm, causing Pit to cry out in pain.

"I'm going to kill you," he ground out between his teeth, "if these damn demons don't do it first."

Pit yanked his arm free and scowled, hiding the fact he was struggling to get another arrow ready. "I appreciate your concern, Dark Pit, but—"

"—but you're going back to Skyworld yesterday." Pit narrowed his eyes; Pittoo narrowed his eyes as well.

"Make. Me."

"Is that a challenge?"

Pit's scowl deepened, then a wicked smile crossed his face, something that sent a chill down Pittoo's spine. "No," he said, and leveled an arrow at Dark Pit's heart. "It's a threat."

…

…Shit.

Is this guy serious?

Robotically, Dark Pit raised his open palms and took a step back. "Pit. Pit, you're not serious."

"No, I'm not." His face dropped into a grin and he leapt into the air, gliding above the fight with arrows flying like clockwork. He was still off mark but visibly improving by the moment. Dark Pit was rooted to his spot, eyes on the white angel.

"Hey, Palutena…"

"Pittoo?"

He didn't respond, the words stuck in his throat as enemy after enemy dropped steadily. Pit had taken up a rhythm: glide, shoot, land, and over and over again. His face was focused, a look he wore many times before, but Dark Pit couldn't help remembering the expression when he threatened to shoot.

Pit's efforts were small in the grand scheme of things, but the little aid he provided allowed the humans to gain a fighting advantage. Soon enough, it was down to them and Twinbellows. It growled, huge ropes of acidic drool falling to the earth and sizzling on contact. Pit's back was straight as he faced the flaming mutt, but Dark Pit could see the tired slump to his shoulders. Pit looked up to the sky for a moment, then the familiar light of extraction surrounded him. Without missing a beat, he ripped the fibula from his shoulder and tossed it into the dirt, cutting all contact with Skyworld. Dark Pit felt like ripping his hair out.

"Pittoo, please, at least give him this." The blue light shone down on him, bearing with it the Palutena Bow. "And watch his back."

"Tch. I already know." He took the bow and whistled sharply; a flaming head turned in his direction. "Hey, you overgrown mutt, how about you chew on one of these?" Twinbellows opened its mouth for a roar and Dark Pit fired an arrow right inside. Its jaws clamped shut and it stumbled backwards with a loud whine. The humans scattered to avoid being trampled but Pit was much slower; Pittoo lurched forward and grabbed his arm, pulling him out of the way before he was squashed.

"Thanks," Pit said, holding out the Silver Bow. Dark Pit snatched it with a glare.

"We," he said lowly, tossing the Palutena Bow over, "are going to have a talk later. But for now—"

"Duck!" he cried and pushed the dark angel's head down, narrowly avoiding a flaming claw swipe. Dark Pit grabbed Pit's hand from his head and made sure he was making eye contact.

"For now, don't die. Again."

"Will do." Pit gestured to the human warriors backing away from Twinbellows' advances. The dog was leaving flaming trails wherever its paws landed; soon the blaze would reach their city. "We have to get them to safety first. Back to their city."

"Okay, but—" Dark Pit paused and his eyes narrowed at the entry gates. The wall was made of thick stone slabs, but the top seemed hollow… "That's an aqueduct." Pit followed his gaze and grinned.

"Wash out Twinbellows?"

"Get them in the town first."

"I'll distract Twinbellows," Pit said, and before Pittoo could protest he was running back into the fray, firing at its massive paws. This time, Dark Pit did yank a chunk of hair out. He tried to calm down as he faced the townspeople.

"Retreat! Retreat!" he called, then felt a blaze of heat prickling at his feathers. He turned and began spinning his bow at top speed, dissipating the massive fireball that had been sent their way. The townspeople needn't be told twice; they turned tail and ran back to their gates. Pittoo brought up the rear, redirecting any stray bolts of fire.

Pit was holding his own as well as he could. He alighted on rock outcroppings to give himself a bit of a height edge as he fired volleys of arrows, but they didn't shine as brightly as they ought to. Pit's next landed resulted in botched footing, and his wings flapped uselessly as he tumbled onto his stomach. Twinbellows roared and his rightmost head snapped out and gobbled him in one bite.

"Pit!" Dark Pit shouted. Twinbellows whinnied in pain and shook its heads; he realized Pit was using his bow to keep its jaws propped open. Pit was clinging for his life but he was slipping towards its throat. Dark Pit glanced over his shoulder; the last man was just making his way through the gates. He notched another arrow and let it fly. The arrow sliced a massive chunk through the gate, letting the heavy flow of water gush across the dirt. He raced ahead and soared into the air, landing on Twinbellows' nose. In the seconds before it was swept away, he grabbed the Palutena Bow and yanked it—along with the idiot clinging—and flew forward. Twinbellows was knocked off its feet and into the flow, its fire dousing in a massive puff of steam. Dark Pit landed several feet on a low cliff.

"Are you okay?" he asked Pit, who was kneeling on the ground. He dragged himself up with a weak chuckle.

"My clothes aren't," he said, indicating his heavily charred robes. They looked out when Twinbellows moaned and found it trying and failing to rise to its paws. Pit suddenly let out a little noise. "This. This is." Pit's eyes roamed the battlefield constantly like he was caught in some sort of dream. "I'm unsatisfied."

"You're what?" Dark Pit wanted to give Pit a break, he really did, but the kid was grinding his nerves and he was two seconds away from plucking him. "I've already put my feathers on the line taking you out here against your goddess' wishes, and you have the nerve to be unsatisfied? Sorry, did you want me to throw you into Twinbellows' maw instead?"

"No, that's not…it…" Pit trailed off and didn't continue. Dark Pit stepped closer, frustration melting into concern, and Pit suddenly pitched forward; Dark Pit glided the remaining distance to prevent him from face planting on the ground.

"Pit? Pit!" Pit remained unresponsive for several seconds, and just when Dark Pit was really beginning to freak out, Pit's eyes fluttered open.

"…Why are you holding me?"

Dark Pit dropped Pit, who hit the ground with a little oof. "She was right, you aren't well enough to be doing this," he said flatly, touching his fibula. "Palutena, take us back."

The extraction light surrounded them and lifted their wings to the heavens. Pit rolled over in midair and Dark Pit stared at his skinny back, the wings struggling to keep him aloft. "You really think this was a bad idea?" Pit said without looking at him. Dark Pit sighed.

"Yes, I do."

"I saw the fight, I had to come help."

"Pit—" He paused and looked harder at Pit's wings. A few of his underfeathers were black. Before, he would've thought it an insignificant side effect, but after the way Pit had acted… He hated it, but he had to speak with Palutena and Viridi. "Yeah, I understand, birdbrain."

Pit gave Pittoo a cross look and folded his arms. Then he smiled. "I forgot to say it earlier, but thanks for bringing me back."

Yeah, just hope it's not gonna bite me in the ass.

Palutena and Viridi were both waiting for their return. Palutena looked Pit over worriedly before sending him off to the hot springs. Dark Pit waited until he left hearing distance before facing the two goddesses.

"I'm guessing from your face that things didn't go all peachy," Viridi said. "Palutena doesn't want me to say I told you so…but I don't care. So. I told you so."

"Next time you want a bomb dropped on some playground, you do it yourself," Dark Pit said. Viridi huffed and turned her head.

"Dark Pit, please, what happened out there?" Palutena asked. He shook his head.

"I don't know… He was just, just weird most of it. If I had to describe it…I'd say he was more like me than anything." A little more caustic, certainly more forceful, and…Pit would never threaten another person's life. No way. But neither would Dark Pit—at least, he wouldn't do it unprovoked. He certainly wouldn't have threatened Pit in such a way. But if he had to say that Pit was even worse than him…no, he couldn't. He shook it off and pulled his wings tight against his shoulder blades. "He's more blockheaded than before, but he still went and stuck his neck out to fight the Underworld Army. He's fine, just a little different than expected."

I'm damaged goods, they said. What happens when half a soul is split in two?

"I'm going to go find him, make sure he's alright." Dark Pit dismissed himself and turned away, ignoring their whispered conversation behind his back. Things would be okay…they had to be.

Pit was at his hot spring stripped down to his short, drifting lazily on his back in the golden water. His eyes were lidded as they focused on Dark Pit. "Whatcha got there?" he asked, looking at the bundle in his hands.

"I couldn't find any of your robes, so here's one of mine." He set it on the grass and sat down. Pit hummed appreciatively.

"Don't you wanna soak?"

"Nope."

"Well suit yourself." Pit rolled over and ducked his head beneath the surface. Dark Pit stared at his wet wings and the stark black feathers stared back. Maybe it was the lack of adrenaline in his veins, but he could count more now than there were before. His mouth skewed and he looked at his feet. He had spent far too many hours sitting in this same spot mourning Pit; it was foolish to do the same when Pit was there in front of him, alive and whole.

"Actually…count me in." He shrugged off his robes and arm bracers. He kicked off his sandals and stepped into the water, pumping his wings to propel himself closer to Pit. "I didn't tell you how you came back, did I?"

Pit raised an eyebrow. "No, you didn't get to." Dark Pit told him about Pandora and the Mirror of Truth. At the end of it Pit let out a long breath and shrugged. "You're right, that was pretty dumb. But it worked out didn't it? I'm here, Lady Palutena's happy, Viridi is as happy as she'll get…I think it worked out."

"Yeah." They floated in silence for a few minutes, just feeling the healing water, until Dark Pit moved to the shore. "I'm feeling like a game of Smash."

"Sure." Pit stepped onto the grass and went to one of the supporting columns where a store of towels was sheltered inside. He dried his hair and flapped his wings a bit to get them fluffed up; several feathers came free and the black ones were more obvious than ever.

"Pit, did you notice you have some black feathers?" Dark Pit decided to address the elephant in Skyworld. Pit blinked and pulled the tip of his wing around with his fingers, examining the underside.

"…Yeah, I guess you're right." And that was that. He picked up the robes Dark Pit brought and slipped them over his head. "Hey, how do I look?"

Dark Pit frowned and grabbed a towel of his own. "Don't know, don't care."

"Hey, don't be like that." He looked up to see Pit had already moved ahead of him. "Come on, last one gets the beat-up Joy-Con." He turned and raced forward, flapping his wings for a little speed, and Dark Pit's frown deepened. There definitely were more black feathers than before. But what did it mean?

"That Palutena's Guidance stuff was really on the nose," Pit remarked as the GAME screen appeared. "Whoever wrote the script really knows his stuff."

"Says you. I only had three lines." Pit laughed while Pittoo kept his eyes on the results. His Bowser lost to Pit's Little Mac. The odd thing was Pit never played Little Mac before. Now, he'd never played Pit in Smash beforehand, but for all the challenges Pit gave him, he only ever swore by Yoshi and Olimar—Palutena, too, said Pit was atrocious with those two yet he never tried another character. So how was he suddenly an expert in an entirely different class of a character? And it wasn't a fluke either; he'd been losing for the last four hours. The sky had long since turned dark from when they began.

"Also, definitely my best voice acting," he continued. "You sounded a little gruff."

"Shove it." Part of his surliness arose from the fact that in giving Pit his last clean robes, he had nothing to wear but the centurion tunic. He retaliated by plucking one of Pit's black feathers. Pit yelped in surprise.

"Hey, you shove it!" He shoved Pittoo off his bed and he hit the ground in a heap. He grabbed one of Pit's pillows and threw it at his face. He stood up and went to the television.

"Anyway, I'm going to—"

He froze, and the Palutena Bow embedded itself into the screen blade first, shattering it into hundreds of tiny glass bits. A little piece cut his cheek and he touched the wound in surprise, turning to Pit. The angel in question was frozen as well, eyes wide and wings on end, then he sat back and curled them in tight.

"I just," he paused, "Don't do that again."

The pillow or the feather? he thought, but just as with Palutena, he couldn't vocalize. He nodded and left without another word, and as he trekked back to his unofficial room, he was forced to face facts: something was wrong with Pit. Now, how was he going to explain it to the goddesses?

He was lying in bed mulling it over when Palutena's frantic voice suddenly filled his head: "Pittoo, Pit just ran off!"

"He what?" he said, flummoxed at first.

"He took his bow and just left through his window. I didn't give him the Power of Flight and neither did Viridi. He also took off his fibula." He ground his teeth—was Pit trying to run away? "I'm begging you, please go after him."

"On it." Dark Pit got up, laced his sandals, strapped on his bow and was already heading to the exit doors. He could hear Palutena's faint cries in the back of his mind and grimaced. This whole thing was turning into one massive shitshow. He should have thought it through better. For now, he had to rectify the problem he created.

He leapt through the doors and with the Power of Flight he was cutting through the starry night sky. He had always had a faint sense of Pit's location, and though Pit never said as much he assumed it was mutual—this time, he sensed Pit farther to the east than he had ever been. He followed his instincts and shot across the sky.

"Soo," Viridi said, "what's the plan, Inkling?"

"The plan is to get Pit back."

"And theennn?" She sounded far too amused for the situation and he snapped at her. "Well, bringing him back is short-term, isn't it? Whatever's going on with him will still be there when you get back."

"I don't know. Shut up. I'll figure it out."

"I hope you do." And she left with that.

The pull between the angels grew stronger and Dark Pit's Power of Flight was down to less than a minute. Luckily it didn't seem to matter much, for the land ahead was wrought with massive brambles shining a sickly greenish grey in the moonlight. Another Reset Bomb Forest, it seemed, but even older than the last one; there wasn't even the tiniest hint of human interaction.

As he lowered himself to the earth he spotted strange shadows scattered across the dirt. The moon brightened and he realized they were the fresh bodies of Underworld enemies peppered with arrows; they had already begun to dissolve into Hearts, but it meant Pit hadn't gotten there too long ago. He hit the ground as his wings returned to normal size and tripped over something surprisingly corporeal. He rose to his rear with a groan and looked over what he fell—and his heart stopped cold.

T…That's a human.

Granted, a human speared through with a Monoeye like a kabob, but a human nonetheless. He slowly rose to his feet and looked around the battlefield more closely. There were some more humans, less than a dozen who appeared to have been caught in the crossfire. He swallowed and stepped carefully around their bodies to the cluster of forestry. There was a small entry point close to the ground; he lowered himself to his belly and crawled through.

The same as before, barely any light could shine through, just enough for him to see his fingers right in front of his face. His bow caught on a low hanging branch and he suddenly wondered why he brought it. He didn't expect to fight Pit…did he? Sure, if it came down to it, he would bonk some sense into that empty head, but a real fight—no, he couldn't. He couldn't. Everything had just become so terrible so quickly and he couldn't handle it.

He continued crawling until more light was shining through the small tunnel. He could make out a clearing at the end and picked up the pace until he could see into the forest. There was a large mossy rock at the center where Pit was perched, his wings folded in tightly and his head down. The bow was dangling loosely from his fingers as Dark Pit came into view.

"Pit, what happened?" He jumped a little in surprise, eyes wide in the moonlight. Suddenly Dark Pit realized they weren't quite blue; there were some flecks of red in there that made them more lapis colored. "What are you doing? What happened out there?"

"What, the Underworld Army? I destroyed them. That's what I do."

"But there were humans too."

"They were in the way," he shrugged. "I didn't want to, but they were." Pittoo's eyes narrowed.

"Pit wouldn't do that."

"So what, you're saying I'm not me?" He laughed aloud until he realized Pittoo wasn't following along. Pit stood up with the bow clenched tightly in both hands. "I am Pit," he said, glaring down at the other. "Servant to the Goddess of Light."

"Then why did you run away from her?" he challenged. Pit started to avert his eyes, then he raised his chin.

"I had to fight. It was…I just had to."

"Like you had to throw that blade at my hand, or had to threaten my life if I dragged you back to Skyworld. Do you see yourself, what you're doing? It's pretty messed up from my point of view."

"Who are you to tell me wrong from right?" he continued.

"Don't know, really. All I can say for sure is things aren't the way they're supposed to be. Here I am, dressed like a centurion, and there you are…the black angel."

A shadow passed over Pit's face as his wings stretched overhead. They were thickly mottled with black, so much that the white feathers were more like accents. "Leave," he said, raising the Palutena Bow, "or else."

"And there you go again with the threats. Don't worry, I'm not here to threaten you." Dark Pit split his bow into blades. "I'm bringing you back one way or another, and that's a promise."

Pit unleashed a volley of highspeed arrows that would've sent any human soldiers running for their lives. Pittoo deflected them smoothly with his two blades before lunging forward, tackling Pit from his rock and to the grass below. Pit gained the upper hand and Dark Pit struggled with his blades to keep the Palutena Bow from plunging into his ribcage; he brought up a foot and dug it into Pit's gut, sending him flying backwards with a heavy whump. Pit rolled to his feet instantly and launched an arrow with a massive energy trail. Dark Pit launched an arrow of his own and their collision led to a huge burst of wind which flattened all the surrounding trees. Leaves filled the air and rained down on them.

"What's the point of this?" Dark Pit said. "We are copies, even matches to one another."

Pit didn't respond, instead launching a blade of the Palutena Bow like a javelin once again. Dark Pit's left wing was pinned to the rock and he bit down a cry of pain. He yanked the sword free when Pit rushed him and slammed it against his intended swipe, cracking both blades. He twirled the Silver Bow in his free hand and cut a clean line of Pit's fringe before he managed to leap backwards. The lack of hair bared his raging expression to the moonlight.

Dark Pit loosed several tracking arrows that Pit easily avoided, circling the clearing before scaling the rock behind him. Dark Pit stumbled backwards when Pit pounced on him, his blades cutting into the dirt, then he threw himself up and forward in a wild flurry of disorganized slashes. Dark Pit struggled to parry with his own swords; this sloppy style was nothing he was used to, and he was being forced backwards. His heel caught on a rock and he tripped backwards, narrowly avoiding a slice that would've taken his head. Then, as his back hit the grass, he watched Pit's swords coming for his heart. He didn't think, didn't look who he was facing; he turned his blade out and struck.

Pit's blade slid heavy into the space between two ribs, just barely missing his lung but causing a few fractures. He missed Dark Pit's heart from the impact of the Silver Bow plunging into his gut. His eyes bugged.

"Pit—" Blood gushed from the point of impact, staining his hand and face before Pit fell forward onto the grass adjacent. Dark Pit struggled to sit up past the burning agony in his chest and rolled Pit onto his back. His face was screwed in pain and he was pressing both hands into the wound. When his eyes focused on Dark Pit he exploded into a wild series of expletives that would've made Viridi blush. It lasted for all of fifteen seconds before he ran out of breath and passed out cold.

"Pittoo?"

"Pittoo? What's the situation? Where is Pit?"

Déjà vu, Dark Pit thought with a sick laugh. "Palutena, take us back."

"Us?" she repeated, then fell silent as they were extracted.

They landed on the floor of Palutena's Temple with a whump. Centurions immediately rushed in, picking up Pit's still speared body and rushing him outside, presumably to the hot spring. Palutena knelt at Pittoo's side and helped him sit up. Her face was ashen and he gave her a small smile. "He's back. E-Excuse me if he isn't wh-whole." She helped him up and he pushed her away, pressing a hand to his damaged ribs. "I-I'm sorry. Th-This is all my f-fault."

"Pittoo—" She exhaled hard and wrapped her arms around herself. "I have to check on Pit. I just…we'll talk about this more when he's stable."

She turned away and hurried in the directions of the centurions. Dark Pit brought his knees up to his chest and bowed his face into them. His wings shielded him from the world when hot tears poured down his cheeks. "D-Dammit…dammit…"

Palutena was…occupied, so it was up to Viridi to get Dark Pit's side of the story, so she said. Dark Pit was content to just stay under the sheets and avoid the world.

"No one's blaming you for anything, ya know," she said with a sigh. "We just want the full story."

"Yeah, well, I don't want to talk. So beat it."

Viridi gave a much more dramatic sigh and Dark Pit's ankle was suddenly trapped in some thorny vise grip. He was yanked upside-down via a thick piece of ivy that had grown through the window and onto the ceiling. Viridi tapped his nose with her staff, eyes narrowed. "We dropped it before when you claimed Pit was fine. Now your sword's getting deeply acquainted with his insides. Something's missing here and you're the one that needs to clear it up."

His ribs felt like rolling hot coals in his chest and he was having some difficulty catching his breath. He might have cried if he felt like he had any tears left. "He tried to kill me."

"What? I couldn't hear you."

"He tried to kill me!" he shouted, looking Viridi right in the eyes. "He tried to kill me three times—this time, if I hadn't stabbed him, he would've done it. I saw in his eyes, he would've done it."

Viridi's eyes widened and for once the goddess was completely speechless. The vine unraveled and Dark Pit hit the bed in a heap; he groaned at the spike of pain from the impact. She sat heavily in a nice chair and brushed her hair from her eyes. "So," she said at length, "what shall we do?"

"I don't…rrgh…know."

"Actually, I was giving the illusion of choice. I know what I'm doing." She mimed slicing her throat and Pittoo growled.

"No, you're not."

"And if I don't then what, he'll come in for lucky try number four? Well, whatever; I know Palutena will want him to talk when he's well enough, and I'm sure as hell gonna be there to see it. Have fun writing your will." She stood and twirled her staff before disappearing in a flurry of leaves and a gust of wind.

Silence. A world of silence.

Days, weeks, perhaps even months later, Dark Pit woke in the dead of the night to see a winged figure crouched on the windowsill. Luminescent violet eyes turned to meet his.

"Hey," Pit said softly. Dark Pit nodded but couldn't find his words. Those black and white wings fluttered uneasily before wrapping around his bandaged torso. "I'm…sorry for trying to stab you."

"Are you really?" he snapped without thinking and hated himself for doing so. Pit frowned in the moonlight, eyes lowered.

"I don't know, but it seems the right thing to do. Apologizing."

Dark Pit sat up from the tangle of sheets. "Apologies mean nothing unless you understand what you did wrong."

"I do. At least, Lady Palutena told me. Something's…I'm not right, am I? I'm not the Pit you guys knew. I can see it in your eyes…you're disappointed." Dark Pit shrugged a shoulder, fighting to keep his face blank. Pit sighed. "I want to ask something." His eyes returned to Pittoo's, searching, wanting something. "What's wrong with me?"

"Who knows?" It was painful to admit, but there it was. Pit's wings tightened around himself. "But, Pit, running off isn't an answer."

"'Else what? I stay and endure this…these looks you guys give me?" he spat. "I'm not who you want me to be. No one ever went around forcing you to be Pit, right?"

"Well no one went around trying to impale me." His fists, previously knotted in the sheets, balled against his sides, and he threw the blanket aside to stand on his feet, wings taut against his back. "Pit—and that's who you are, you are still Pit—I don't care if you're a walking talking eggplant. What those goddesses were saying before…they said you might not have a soul at all. But they said the same thing about me, and look! I would risk my own life to save yours, because you went and did so for me. Your light is what sustains my shadow."

"So what do you expect me to do? Change to fit your mold?"

"Pit, I want to ask you something. Why did you try to kill me?" He struggled to maintain eye contact and so did Pit, but Pit was the first to look away, turning until he could sit with his back to the window. With his face in the shadows Dark Pit couldn't be sure, but it seemed his eyes were glistening.

"I'm sorry."

"Pit. Answer."

"I ju—I don't know! I was upset…every time, you'd upset me, and I j—I just wanted to cause some damage. Burn off steam."

"Even if the thing you're damaging is me?"

He turned his head away. "Made no difference to me. I guess that makes me depraved."

"It wasn't right," Pittoo agreed.

"Therein lies the problem. I don't know right from wrong, not anymore. Is this what it's like, lacking a soul? Feeling empty and lost all the time? Is this what you felt like, Dark Pit?" He looked at Pittoo again and this time he was certainly crying. Dark Pit smiled bitterly; at least he had some emotional capacity.

"More or less."

"…Can it really be fixed?" His voice was as soft as a breeze. Pittoo sighed and moved to sit next to Pit.

"You won't be the same. None of us will be, I guess. But it can be fixed, and you will be fine. And if not…well, I'll always be here. You'll have to try a lot harder to kill me, birdbrain."

"Promise?" He didn't know if Pit meant promising to fix him or promising not to die; either way, he had no plans on reneging on either. He set a hand on Pit's forearm, squeezing hard.

"Promise."

Pit stared at Dark Pit's hand for a long moment, lost in his thoughts. Then the corner of his lip twitched. "Should we hug now?"

"I'd rather not."

"But," he said sagely, eyes shining, "it would be the Pit thing to do."

He rolled his eyes so hard he thought they would pop out. "If it makes you feel better—"

He couldn't speak when Pit trapped him in a tight bear hug, his multicolored wings wrapped around Pittoo's head. He wanted to complain, but…his scent. Pit always sort of smelled like freedom, if he had to put it into words; a combination of sweet wild grass, tangy hot spring water, lemony laundry soap, and the clearness of the open sky. Though they said this Pit didn't have a soul, the smell was still there, and it was so poignant it made Pittoo's eyes cloud with tears. He sniffed as subtly as he could, but being next to Pit's ear, the boy noticed.

"Hey, Pittoo, are you crying?" he asked.

"I'm—shut up. Hug me."

"I am already," he said smartly, but complied anyway.

Pit was training on the grass, effortlessly sliding through various combat maneuvers with the Palutena Bow. It would have been nothing out of the ordinary if his wings weren't mottled black and his eyes shone violet in the sunlight. Palutena gripped her elbows and hummed with disconcert.

"Are you sure about this, Dark Pit?" she said softly, though he wouldn't be able to hear them from the gates of the palace.

"Not particularly," he said, seated on the windowsill and polishing the Silver Bow. "But I don't plan on offing another Pit."

"That may be so, but…"

"I believe things'll work out. I may not be an all-seeing goddess or whatever, but I'm walking proof." He slid to the tiled floor and strapped the bow across his back, joining Palutena in the doorway. Their shadows fell across the grass, not equal in size nor status. "Pit's the one who made me more human. The least I can do is return the favor."

She still seemed doubtful but held her grievances and tongue. Viridi, however, had so such qualms. Should he become a threat, he'll know the power of nature, she said with no traces of her usual dispassion or sarcasm—it was nothing short of a promise. So make sure I don't have to, Dark Pit.

"Put a seed in it," he replied, stepping onto the grass. "Gods and goddesses, you get hung up on the wrong things. That kid is no less an annoying pest than he was before, 'cept he's almost good enough to beat me in a swordfight. But he'll come to find," he grinned darkly, drawing the bow and holding the blade out, "a centurion is no match for a real black angel."

He ran out onto the green calling, "Yo, Pit, right here and now!" Pit, a bit out of breath from his training, nodded, and with a mutual grin, the two angels descended into a match of blows. Evenly matched, a show with no end in sight, a dance of two halves struggling to reform. But they would reform, that, Pittoo was confident in, for there was no shadow that could be without a source of light.

[imagine-loki]

A Quick Way Home

TITLE: A Quick Way Home

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 2/3

AUTHOR: brightsun-and-darkmidnight

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: When Loki learns that you try to be home as soon as you can because of your child, he volunteers to teleport you there. It is convenient and you don’t doubt his motivation, but it happens so often that you need to ask why? Loki hesitantly tells you that he just likes to see some good parenting.

RATING:  T

NOTES/WARNINGS: Single mom.

AUTHOR’S NOTES: Kaytlyn is a single mom who puts her child first… Loki takes interest in her parenting skills and insists on getting her home earlier. Her son, Jeremy ends up sick and she needs to leave work while an important meeting is happening in a few minutes. Making Loki’s reputation better IS Kaytlyn’s job, meaning it is… Challenging.

My Ao3: brightsun_and_darkmidnight

 ~ ~ ENJOY  ~ ~

Kaytlyn felt her stomach turn as she bent over to grab clothes to sort them out for washing. Jeremy was better after a few days but now it was her turn. Chores still needed to be done even if she felt like death was close by her side. Jeremy tried to help with various things, and she knew her work clothes would need ironed with a child’s folding skills. Jeremy tried and who was she to tell him it wasn’t good enough when he was learning?

Kaytlyn heard Jeremy walk into the bathroom and she greeted him, asking him what he needed.

“Moomie your tablet went off due to a call…”

Throwing clothes into the washer, “it’s ok sweet bean. Who was it?”

“Well… I tried to hit the button you showed me..”

“The instant reply one?” Kaytlyn covered her mouth with the back of her hand as she felt a wave of nausea again.

“Yeah.. but I accidentally hit the button that did this.”

Her stomach plummeted with the horrible fears of something being deleted, something sent to the wrong person… she watched fearful as the tablet turned, fully expecting something terrible. No. Nothing could have been worse than what she saw on the screen.

Sharp facial features. Dark hair, slightly curly but pushed back. The emerald eyes she loved to see and stare into while having an internal battle of continue staring or not. However that battle came to an instant yell for a retreat once she has seen her appearance.

Her face was flushed pink, clothes were baggy and so worn that the print on the shirt was becoming nonexistent. Her hair…her hair, tied up quickly while getting sick first thing in the morning and she did not have the energy to put the effort into fixing the crooked ponytail.

This must be what a deer in headlights feels like…

Loki looks down and she felt horrified at the smile pulling at his lips, “I know you asked for today off but I had a question…” eyes met hers…

“Uhh… yeah sure.” She swallowed as she felt nauseated again, “Umm…  can I call you back in like 5 minutes?”

As soon as she hit the button to hang up she turned and threw up. Jeremy got a warm cloth for her as she always did for him. Kaytlyn attempted to make herself look a little better. Well, Jeremy did by fixing her hair for her with great concentration, his tongue sticking out and eyes scrunched. Her hair was better but not…Again who could she be with his best efforts.

Before she could do more than bundle up in a blanket with ginger ale the tablet was ringing again. She did her 10 second breathing before answering. She had to brace herself to see him again in this state.

He had a soft smile, “I am terribly sorry to bother you, but I wanted to see if you got the email as well… concerning a movie.”

Kaytlyn minimized him to the lower corner as she went through her emails. how in holy hell do I have so many emails already?! She found the email and read it over.

Loki spoke as she reread it, “They want to make a movie about me. I wanted to discuss some stuff about what I can talk about, to give them something to produce.”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t look up, “that’s really up to you.”

“Well, I know you have helped me achieve a better image, and I would love your help with this as well.”

She kept looking through emails and kept him minimized so she wouldn’t have to see herself. “It’s going to be based on your life. You should decide what you want to share with the world.”

“You are excellent at showcasing everything in perfect lighting.”

“That’s my job Loki.”

“I would love it if you could do it again. You know me well.”

“I’ll help. I can type up a questionnaire and you can fill it out. I am hoping to be at work tomorrow, my friend said he can watch Jeremy.”

“If you are well, I hope to see you tomorrow. Try to get some rest.”

“Thank you Loki. I will try to get you those questions before 10." 

With doing chores, playing with Jeremy, and going through the emails,  Kaytlyn was exhausted. She awoke to her friend shaking her awake and calling her name.

Kaytlyn jumped up and looked for the clock. Jack was picking the durable clock off of the floor. He teased her about knocking it off the ground. Kaytlyn hurried around to get ready. Her tablet was ringing. She went to it and saw the image of Loki’s contact. She answered it prepared with an explanation.

"I was hoping you were coming in today. I got you your coffee and breakfast sandwich.”

“Um. Uh. Yeah. I am getting ready. I will be leaving soon.”

“Take your time. Call me when you leave.”

“Ok?” Damn the squeak in her voice.

“See you soon.”

Then he hung up. Jack was smiling. Kaytlyn told him to shut his mouth while his mouth opened.

“If you don’t jump him I know about 3 thousand people who would. Tall, dark, and handsome…” Jack tapped his chin and then pointed and Kaytlyn, “sounds like your favorite treat. When was the last time-”

Kaytlyn covered her ears and yelled, “Jack! Please stop.”

“Your ears are on fire. Are you EMbarrASSed?” Jack snickered, “maybe put your hair down.”

Jeremy strolled into the living room, chewing on something crunchy, “That won’t help. Loki likes to push her hair back..”

Jack turned dramatically slow, “Reeeaallyy?" 

Kaytlyn grabbed things and shoved them in her purse as she told the most wonderfully, annoying, men in her life to shut their mouths. She gave Jeremy a kiss and a look to both that warned them to behave. She used her phone to call Loki stating she was on the way, then gave her the location currently when he asked. When she walked into her office, true to his word he had her coffee and breakfast sandwich on her desk. She hummed as she took a sip of the coffee.

A silky voice spoke up from the door that made her turn around. "Enjoying that?”

“Loki! God!-stop it. You are going to give me a heart attack!”

Loki’s smirk widened as he looked away, “maybe with the combination of caffeine.”

Kaytlyn found the coffee useful to fill her mouth to think of something to say back. She smiled and pointed at him, “so you are trying to kill me.”

“That’s not the plan exactly…” Loki smirked as he leaned on the doorframe, “however, getting your heart to flutter might be in the plan.”

Kaytlyn felt her heart leap then recovered quickly, “that would still kill me. Arrhythmia is not good for the heart.”

Loki smiled but shook his head to the floor. “Maybe I should take your breakfast..”

“Uh-huh. I will not be able to function.”

“Ah yes. That would be terrible since I still did not get those questions.”

“Shit.”

Loki touted her a few times, “Swearing is very unprofessional Kaytlyn.”

Kaytlyn’s lips pursed as she glared at him. Curse him for smiling. It was so perfect. Thin lips parted to show off white teeth.. the lines painted on his face from a wide range of expressions, the happiest lines defined around his mouth and cheeks.

Kaytlyn unpacked her purse of things she would need for today. “I can get started now. There is no excuse not to carry out something I told you would be done.”

“Come to my office once you are done preparing for the day.” Then he was gone with a smile pulling his lips.

Office sex. Kaytlyn erased the thought as quickly as it rose. Her fantasy running wild in her mind and would not stop. Damn it! She was a professional! To have a relationship is one thing, but to be seen in the workplace like that? no-no-nope. With a sigh, she went to Loki’s office with her tablet. Oh no. He had his blinds closed. She could feel the warmth spreading throughout her body. Jack’s question rang in her head and the answer was embarrassing to even think about such a thing as, “the last time.”

Loki was standing at his window with the blinds angled down towards the outside. He was watching the streets and he looked absolutely wonderful. He turned and gestured to the door and requested it be shut. Then she stood awkwardly for what seemed like an eternity before sitting in her chair across the desk.

She proposed Loki make himself vulnerable, to show everyone what happened. To explain what was going on inside his mind- to show how New York even got into his head. Loki sat back and drummed his fingers along the desk. Kaytlyn waited with anticipation. Even though she barely had an idea why he attacked New York. 

His eyes locked onto the clock that seemed to tick and tock loudly in the silent room. There were sounds outside of the room but the voices and phone rings were normal. To hear something as quiet as a clock? Absurd. She quickly called his name and then his eyes met hers.

Kaytlyn continued, “You don’t have to, like everything else I say… this is a recommendation. Do you want me to ask some questions, off the record for now?”

“That is fine.” His eyes were back on the clock.

Kaytlyn started with a common one, “why New York?”

Loki breathed in and his chest stilled, “it had Stark’s tower. A place set up as a palace, overlooking a kingdom.”

Kaytlyn nodded, “what started the thoughts of ruling a kingdom?”

Loki breathed out a small laugh, “a place of a hierarchy. My father.. Odin told both Thor and I were destined to be kings.”

“Even though only one would take the throne..”

“Exactly.”

Kaytlyn rolled her lips together, “were either of you going to be married off?”

Loki’s eyes glared at the clock. “..Thor was always expected to be King. I was going to be used for an alliance with another realm.”

Kaytlyn let her breath exhale since the burn in her chest became too much. “That’s terrible. I’m sorry. ”

“It was Odin’s plan from the start when he found me.” Loki’s eyes widened and glanced at her.

He was adopted, that could be used. “Where did he find you?” Loki stayed silent and she gave him a few moments. The damn clock became deafening. “How about… was there anyone who you cherished most growing up?”

“Frigga, the Almother. She taught me everything. Daggers.. Magic.”

Frigga was dead so she had to be careful, “how was the relationship with Frigga?”

“She was.. Motherly.” Loki turned to rest his elbows on the desk and stared right into Kaytlyn’s eyes. “Can I ask some questions about you?”

“Well, you are the one going to have a movie made about you I am here to improve your image.”

“One question for you and I will answer one in return.”

Kaytlyn agreed. The questions were simple enough. What she liked to do in her past time, favorite items, her roll models. What her pregnancy was like. So she told him about her crazy cravings. She made light of everything dealing with Jeremy. However Loki kept pressing the issue. So she kept asking more difficult questions for him.

She told Loki about Jeremy’s father leaving. How she worked out to try and be healthy and strong for her child. How she just wanted a healthy baby in her arms more than anything as the time approached so fast. Her going to school, a job of a reporter, and the move to New York. Living with Jack for a while, actually until about two years ago when she moved out. Sharing a small room with a little spoiled child. Then he asked about her dating life.

Kaytlyn cleared her throat and stood, “it is 2pm. I am starved.”

“Let me take you for lunch.”

Loki kept insisting. So she went to the little cafe a block away. It was like Loki forgot their question game and continued on with normal office gossip. Kaytlyn sipped nervously as Loki stated that the two of them were among the hottest gossip. Then on the way back she tripped and Loki’s arm was the closest thing to latch onto. He placed his hand on hers and kept her hand in his elbow. They walked through the tower and to his office that was closed off to the world.

Loki let her go and turned to her, those fingers on her cheek, “that’s not going to help the gossip.” He smiled as his eyes searched hers, “do you want to talk about our date now?”

Kaytlyn looked to the door and then back… An argument between the good and bad raged on… She studied his gaze, he was too handsome,  interested in her child… “Yes.” Her eyes went to his chest as she admitted defeat and welcomed the new experience about to happen. 

Loki’s fingers went to her chin and made her look at him. “We can go anywhere you like, anywhere Jeremy loves.”

“Actually… he loves anywhere so long as he gets dessert.”

Loki smiled, “I know the perfect place.”

Kaytlyn didn’t know what to do… should she kiss him? When would that be appropriate? Then he leaned in and she froze. Her eyes closed in anticipation. Then soft lips were on her cheek. Her eyes opened as soon as those lips were off of her cheek.

“You are beautiful.”

Kaytlyn stuttered a thanks and examined the room. Loki released her face and went to his desk.

“I hope I am the only one in your date life now.”

That game resumed, “Yeah.” Kaytlyn sat in her chair with notes. “I really think we have valuable information for this movie.”

Kaytlyn continued to explain his adoption would be great. The relationship with everyone he knew. A few of his hunting trips and battles in Asgard. How he changed after New York.

She tapped a pen on her lip looking at her scribble. “Do you know who your biological parents are?” Again Loki was staring at the clock.

There was so much hesitation. Then he explained the frost giants. Odin’s sleep. His attempt to destroy them for recognition from everyone and because of the lies he was fed all his life. He just wanted to be worthy.

Her insecurities did not compare but he knew them now. She bared everything to him in return for his somewhat incomplete story; all about Jeremy’s father, not trying to be with anyone after because of her body changes.

“Any changes due to bringing a wonderful child into this world made you this beautiful woman in front of me now.”

Kaytlyn smiled and felt her ears warming. A few birds flew past the window and that was her heart. Fluttering away and towards the grasp of Loki. She excused herself after discussing that she would make notes printed from a computer. She typed a few things and the more she did, the realization set in that Loki must have felt lonely all of his life because of something that was kept secret. Before he was aware of how difficult his life would have been. She wondered if he gave thought to how much his life would be different if he was left in the… she glanced at her notes and decided on, “the ice planet” instead of giving another attempt at the real name.

She printed the few pages worth summary of their conversation.

Loki skimmed the pages, set them down and his hand covered his face. “It’s in a type of document now.”

Kaytlyn let him have his moment. That was a lifetime of… lies, yearning, and tragedy.

“We should have our date tonight.” He smiled up at her, “have something good at the end of the day after such, vulnerable conversations.”

Kaytlyn’s lips pulled into a smile, “sounds great.”

[theprodigypenguin]

Writing Commissions {open}

As most of my followers know already, my laptop very recently broke, and I haven't been able to write as frequently or in as much volume as I usually do. 

At the same time I've been going through a rather hard time, and writing is one of my main coping mechanisms, how I leech myself of toxic emotions and relax, do something productive with my anxiety and depression. 

Thanks to my broken laptop, I have not been able to cope productively or in any healthy way at all, which is not good for me, but it has taken a LOT longer than expected to save the money I need to replace my laptop.

So, I made the decision to open writing commissions. I imagine I'd get more luck if I was an artist, but alas, I am not, so here I go shooting my shot. If you're not interested, don't feel bad about ignoring this post. I'll add the information in a "read more", as it will likely be a long post.

Feel free to reblog this if you want, but you are under no obligation to do so.

~~~~~

You can call me Nico (formerly amelia vale). I've been writing regularly for about 10+ years with a small handful of local college writing courses under my belt (I actually won an award in my first creative writing course. It was a college course and I believe I was 13 or 14 at the time (my charter school allowed me to take college classes while still in highschool)). I've also won a few local essay contests in my town, which probably doesn't mean much, but that's my history.

In my time writing I've finished 11+ novels (some of which reached 50 chapters+, and some which are not posted anywhere online yeet), and over 30 one shots, drabbles, and novellas, with a handful of in-progress novels and shorter fanfictions. I've written both fanfiction and original novels of varying genres.

I am by no means an expert in my craft, and while I do dream of publishing professionally some day, I am nowhere near that goal. I'm certainly hyping myself up, but I just wanted to express the experience I have with writing in general to assure possible consumers that I at least 89% know what I'm doing 🙃 I've also already done a few writing commissions in the past, which can be found on my DeviantArt, but you can find more recent examples of my work on Wattpad and Ao3.

Fandoms I've written for: Harry Potter, The Cursed Child, Riordanverse (notably PJO, HoO, and Magnus Chase), OHSHC, Voltron: Legendary Defender, One Piece, Hetalia.

Note that my main focus currently is Harry Potter and the Cursed Child (Jeddy and Jegulus mostly) but I have some experience writing in the fandoms above, though not all of those fics are posted online, and not all of them are incredibly recent.

I'm comfortable and have experience writing in an assortment of genres and themes, including smutty or sexual themes, incredibly graphic and triggering themes including r@pe, assault, abuse, neglect, torture, self harm, suicide (please note I wrote these themes as a form of therapy, not cuz I'm creepy), fluff, whump, dystopia, post apocalyptic, werewolf, vampire, etc (please ask if you want to know if I've written in a specific genre or theme not listed).

*important: just because an author may write something, does not mean they support that theme. I've written about graphic violence, r@pe, and racism, but I do not in any way support that crap.

Most Recent Examples of my Writing:

Chances || Venom || Broken Doll (rated E, very graphic)

Examples of Smut/Sexually Themed fics:

Say My Name || Chances || Rythmn of the Night (wattpad) || Encantador de Serpientes (wattpad)

Examples of Original Work:

Pigment || What Happens in Vienna || Love at First Crepe

Fanfic Examples:

The Hyacinth Prophecy(PJO) || Road to Ruin(PJO) || Serpentine Curse(PJO/Magnus Chase) || Make Peace(VLD) || Something Just Like This(VLD) || Stupid Deep(HP) || Recovery(HP) 

So if you've gotten through all the above 👆👆👆👆 (it was actually lowkey stressful to write cuz I'm very bad at complimenting myself, A for effort) and still are curious or interested in commissioning, then below are prices, things I will and won't write, payment methods, etc:

Things I won't write: 

incest, pedophilia, graphic depictions of r@pe or any form of sexual assault, marginalization of a race or group I have no personal affiliation with* (I won't write about a black woman enduring racism because I am not a black woman, etc), underage relationships (both characters must be over 19, unless it's a strictly familial fic).

*I will happily write a black character or any other race/minority, but I do not believe I have any right to add in their racial experiences as I have not experienced them for myself, and that would be wildly insensitive of me. I've written about marginalization from a second perspective before, but I had a lot of help from a POC reader while I was writing.

Things I will write:

fluff, smut (within reason plz), whump, romance, familial, Original work, OCs, fanfiction*, pretty much everything else that isn't in the "won't" list. I'm pretty flexible.

*Disclaimer: All characters in any of the fanfiction I write belong to their respective owners, and I claim no rights to them or to their individual stories. I do not own any of the properties, I am simply producing fan works based on or inspired by them.

Prices:

$15 - for fics under 3k

$20 - for anything over 3k words

$30 - $40 - for smut (smut is extra because I don't write it a whole lot, but I CAN write it, and normally smut fics end up much longer than general fics) 

*MUST BE 17+ TO COMMISSION SMUT (if your age isn't already in your bio I have every right to decline the commission. I just don't feel comfortable writing smut for anyone under 17. I know youngins will read it anyway, but this is just a personal pet peeve of mine)

Payment Methods:

You can pay either through Ko-fi or PayPal, whichever you prefer.

Rules:

PLEASE be kind and respectful to me.

Stay in contact with me as MUCH as possible.

I prefer a lot of communication, especially during my writing process, as I want to be sure I get every detail of the fic right for you.

Full payment upfront (this may change later, but currently I would prefer it upfront)

I do not have a time limit on my writing, that kind of thing stresses me out and my writing quality suffers, which commissioners do not deserve. I can however guarantee that I WILL finish your fic.

Please do not increasingly pester or ask me if the fic is finished or how it's going, I promise I will give updates when they are necessary.

The more enthusiasm and details you give regarding the kind of fic you want, the faster I will finish, because I'll probably get just as excited as you. Basically hype me on the theme and I'll be dying to finish.

I need money because I need a new laptop but I still want this to be fun for me, and for whoever commissions me.

I have a right to refuse any commission request without explanation.

This is NOT first come first serve. I will choose the commissions I feel I can do my best on to ensure you get the best quality writing.

Due to the fact I have a fulltime job already, and I can't write that much on my phone or tablet, and the fact I'm saving up to buy a laptop, I will only be taking two commissions at a time, so as not to overload myself and so I can provide a piece of writing to the best of my abilities. When I finish those two commissions, I will reopen these again, until I've saved enough for a laptop. I figure between commissions and work, I could afford one… maybe February if I'm lucky.

After which I will likely shut down commissions (unless something super serious comes up again).

Slots:

#1:

#2:

CONTACT:

You can DM me on Tumblr or email me at amelia.vale.official@gmail.com

If you do not want to commission me, or can't commission me because you are also broke (same bro) then feel free to reblog if you want (you have no obligation to).

If you still want to support me somehow but can't afford that much, you can donate to my Ko-fi. I actually don't drink coffee, I drink tea, so I'll have to change the caption from "buy me a coffee" to something else, but yeah.

Thank you greatly to the people who read this far, even if you don't commission. I appreciate all of my followers and whoever decides to help, as well as people who can't. I know commissions are a luxury, so if you can't afford it, don't feel bad, you don't need to apologize, cuz that makes me feel bad too. It's totally okay.

And for people going through a similar crisis, hang in there. It can only be shit for so long after all.

NOTE: COMMISSIONS DO NOT INCLUDE PROMPTS THAT HAVE ALREADY BEEN SENT TO ME, so if you have sent in prompts in the past, THEY ARE NOT COMMISSIONS. I asked for writing prompts/requests, so they are no included in this.

[mrslittletall]

Title: Off Balance (Chapter 6) Fandom: Hollow Knight Characters: The Pale King/The White Lady, The Pure Vessel, Quirrel Word Count: 6.699 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21805333/chapters/57148003 Previous chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/614026182742114304/title-off-balance-chapter-5-fandom-hollow

Summary: The Pale King and Hollow talk about their feelings. Their are some snuggles with a certain Root. Hollow discovers a new ability and Quirrel has a proposal to make for the Pale King.

(Author's note: I want to thank each and everyone of you who shows their support with likes, kudos, favourites or even comments. Your support is what gets me going and I eagerly await your feedback each time I post.

Also, I got some wonderful fanart for this fic, made by tumblr user @ninvic-0, of teen Hollow and a scene of the last chapter, which you can find here.)

He was hugging Hollow for a good while, for how long he didn't knew. They weren't crying but he could feel them shivering. His thoughts wandered back to what they had told him earlier. The fact that they tried not to think. How much suffering had the Pale King unleashed on his child, simply because he wasn't able to see how flawed the whole plan had be? Where they still beating themselves up about thinking, about having a will, a mind? Wouldn't that contradict their believe they aren't allowed to think or feel at all? Even though the Pale King had told Hollow that he wouldn't act on the plan, that they were his and his Root's child and they deserved to be treated like their child, it seemed to be deeply ingrained in Hollow that they once had been the Pure Vessel.

Vessel. The Pale King didn't like to think about how he had called Hollow prior this day where they had cowered in fear, because they hadn't been able to dodge his attacks. He had used this word to distance himself. When he would view Hollow as the vessel, a thing that had to be used, it would be easier for him to go through with the plan. It would also be easier for him to accept the fact just how many of the vessels (his children) had died for the plan. Even with the high mortality rate of wyrm hybrids, that only one of all them survived... had crushed him. Back then, he saw it as as necessary sacrifice, he told himself that no cost would be too great, but he still had sealed the abyss, so that nobody would be able to see what he did, but he had his regrets and shame into a tablet as a grim reminder.

While being lost in his thoughts, the Pale King noticed that Hollow had stopped shivering, though they still were hugging him tightly, he could feel the cold sensation of their void body and how their fingers gripped at his wings. It was a tiny bit uncomfortable, but he wouldn't ask his child to stop hugging him just because of a bit of discomfort. After all, he had caused them much greater discomfort through his very wrong actions.

Still, he needed to know how they were feeling and for this they would need to break the hug. He decided to let Hollow decide though, by asking: “Hollow, how are you feeling?”

Hollow raised their head, but didn't break the hug. It would have been so much easier when they could talk, how much the Pale King wished he could give them the voice he had denied them, but he knew it wasn't possible.

Hollow lingered a few more moments in his hug before taking a step back. The Pale King was secretly relieved that they finally released their grip on his wings, they were rather sensitive and spent a second to shake them out.

Hollow went to fetch their journal. They flipped to a free page and wrote. Though their body wasn't shaking anymore, their hand still was and it resulted into large, crooked letters. They had only written one word.

“UPSET”

“Why are you upset, Hollow? Or at who?”, the Pale King asked, deciding that it would be the best to gently coax the information out of Hollow, even though he might not like the answer.

Hollow wrote another word, just one.

“Myself.”

It was another instance where the Pale King felt like his heart could break in two. He had thought, had assumed, that Hollow would express that they were upset with him. Because he made them to be the Hollow Knight, he made them feel like they weren't allowed to feel, he made them think that they weren't allowed to think, because he had been a terrible father to them.

“...Why are you upset at yourself?”, he asked. Especially when there was a person they could be rightfully upset about right in front of them.

They looked down at their journal and hesitated a bit before they picked up the quill. This time they wrote a whole sentence.

“Because I don't know who I am.”

“Oh, Hollow...”, the Pale King said, coming over to them and laying a hand on their shoulder. “It bothers you a lot, doesn't it?”

No words this time, just a nod.

“I guess that you don't feel like sleeping in this state.”, the Pale King said further.

Another nod, but then they also wrote a sentence again.

“What are you doing when you can't sleep?”

“I am cuddling with my Root.”, the Pale King said without hesitation. That had happened quite a few times lately. He had trouble sleeping on his own because of everything that had happened...

Hollow just stared at him, a stare that felt like it came directly from their void nature, but the Pale King didn't need any words or signs to understand what they wanted to say. He took them by the hand and led them out of the room.

The White Lady awoke the next morning and had to realize, that in the night her Wyrm had cuddled up against her again. Though, while his body radiated a pale light and a certain warmth against her roots, she could also feel a sensation on her other side that was as cold as ice and made her shudder.

As she looked down to see just what cold thing was pressed against her, she saw that it was Hollow, seemingly asleep, it was hard to say with a face that couldn't emote, but they were breathing peacefully and didn't move at all.

She chuckled to herself and then gently brushed her branches against her Wyrm's wings to wake him up. “My Wyrm...”, she whispered. “My beloved, wake up.”

“Root, don't rush me.. I need my coffee first.”, he whispered back half asleep and cuddled a bit more, leaning in her touch. He was so cute and she would have liked for him to sleep pressed against her for an hour longer, but she wanted answers now.

“I need to ask you about something.”, she said, leaning down to whisper to him. “Mainly just why our child isn't sleeping in their own bed.”

That woke her Wyrm up in an instant and as he shot up, he got his horns tangled up in her branches. “Oh no, not again.”, he said and that gave the White Lady a good chuckle. It didn't hurt her at all, as a plant based being she couldn't feel pain as much as the more bug like beings, but when it had happened the first time, her Wyrm hadn't stopped apologizing to her.

“You know it doesn't hurt me.”, she said and got her husband untangled from her branches. “Now, would you care to elaborate why Hollow picks up on all your bad habits?”

“Root, you didn't had to call me out like that...”, he said, pressing against her stem again. “...You don't really mind that I come sleeping next to you once in a while, do you?”

“No, of course not.”, she said, another chuckle escaped her. “It just happened... a lot recently and you usually do it when you don't feel well or are upset. So, what happened?”

“My Root...”, he said. “Yesterday... something happened. I went to Hollow and tried to talk to them because of how dependent they seem to be on me...”

The White Lady quietly listened as her Wyrm filled her in at what happened. He had simply tried to tell Hollow that they cold be their own person, wanted to encourage them to be their own person, but they hadn't been able to understand. It had culminated in them offering to be the Vessel again, even though they knew they would fail and her Wyrm had got upset at this suggestion and yelled at them.

“...then they started to cry and... I never want to see them like this ever again.”, he concluded, a hand over his face. He seemed to try very hard to not burst into tears himself.

“...That wasn't the whole story.”, the White Lady said, having the feeling that something other must have happened before the both of them had cuddled up against her, but she was distracted by a motion next to her. Hollow was stirring and soon sat up, looking around the room.

“Oh, Hollow, good morning.”, she said.

They signed something at her which she couldn't understand yet. She could only assume that it was “Good Morning.”. She needed to ask her Wyrm to teach her the sign language too, so that she could understand what Hollow wanted to say.

Her Wyrm stood up and walked over to Hollow in an instant, looking them over and then asking: “How are you feeling?”

They signed at him and he repeated it out aloud: “Better? That's good to hear.”

The White Lady was aware that he had said it out aloud for her sake, but for now, she wanted to hear the rest of the story and she didn't want to have her husband tell it in front of their child, so she said: “Hollow, could you leave us alone for a while, please?”

They stared at her but didn't make any signs that they would move.

“Hollow, please leave us alone.”, her Wyrm said and then added. “We meet up for breakfast later. Get ready for the day.”

That prompted them to leave immediately and her Wyrm turned to face her, saying: “...They don't get kind pleas. You have to formulate it like an order. I know, that's it's my fault they are like this...”

“My Wyrm, I am sure that we will be able to work this out.”, she said and her branch found his claws. She could feel how he tightly pressed it. “Now, please tell me what happened after they broke out in tears.”

“I hugged them and apologized.”, he said. “We stayed like this for a moment and then I asked if they had calmed down. They shook their head so I decided to take them with me into my workshop so they could calm down and be able to sleep easily later.”

“This obviously didn't happen.”, the White Lady stated.

“I got them some hot chocolate to help calm them down.”, the Pale King told further. “After they had drank it, they started to explore the room and then asked for permission to use the board. I thought they wanted to draw something first, but instead...” The Pale King hugged himself and pressed further into her stem. She laid two branches on his shoulders in an attempt to soothe him.

“...they wrote that mantra on the board. The Hollow Knight one. The one I used to condition them.”

“Oh, my Wyrm...”, the White Lady sighed, doubling her efforts to sooth him. She briefly thought about using some spores, but decided against it. This was different then getting him to sleep.

“And next to it they questioned who they are, when they aren't the Hollow Knight anymore.”, he finished.

“And then you both came into my chamber to get some sleep, I guess?”, the White Lady said.

“We.. talked about it a bit more, but it was clear that Hollow was too upset to just go to bed. They asked me what I did whenever I couldn't sleep and well...”

“Like I already said, my Wyrm, they pick up on all your bad habits.”

The White Lady retracted her branches and attempted to get up. “I believe it is time for us to start our day.”

“Wait, Root.”, the Pale King said and she stopped, sitting down again. He searched something in his robes for a little while. She stayed patient, that robe felt like a dimension of its own. How her Wyrm was able to store things in it and find them again was out of her mind.

After a little while he produced a crumbled up letter, she could see that it was addressed at Monomon.

“Yesterday... I got the tip to ask Monomon for parenting advice and I wrote her a letter...”, his voice quivered a little, how uncommon for her Wyrm to get nervous around her. “However, I am unsure about the contents. Could you look it over for me?”

“Sure, my beloved.”, she said and took the letter. When he looked further at her, she sighed and said: “You want for me to look it over right now?”

“Yes, please, my Root.”, he replied, pressing against her another time. How could she say no to her adorable, little, insecure Wyrm?

“Very well then.”, she said, took the letter out of the envelope and unfolded it.

Only a few lines in she couldn't help but chuckle. He had tried very hard to make it sound as formal as possible, but ultimately it boiled down on how insecure he was about raising Hollow wrong and that he didn't felt fit for the role of being a father. It certainly lightened her mood this morning, though she frowned a bit at a certain line.

“All we desire is for our child to be happy, but we are unsure how to give them the happiness they deserve when we ourselves don't even know how to be happy.”, she read aloud, making her Wyrm flinch.

“That... that doesn't mean I am not happy with you or with Hollow.”, he quickly said.

“I never said that.”, the White Lady replied. “It is more... concerning to me. My beloved, you need to talk about your feelings more openly. To me. I am your wife after all.”

He stared up at her and then averted his gaze. She lowered herself so that their faces were more on par and propped herself up with her branches. As soon as he had noticed, his tail had slung itself around one of her branches. Oh. That meant he was really anxious.

“You don't have to tell me if you don't want to.”, she reassured him, but he shook his head and then murmured.

“It's about the other vessels.”

“Oh.”, she only said, feeling a pang in her insides. It was a difficult topic for the both of them. The thousand children who had died. Who he had locked away.

“I can't help thinking about them before I go to sleep. They plague my dreams. It is why I prefer to come to you, Root, to escape the nightmares.”

“My Wyrm.”, the White Lady said, giving her husband a soft hug, “You deserve talking about this, but... I can't. Not about this. Not yet.”

“...I understand.”, he said. “I apologize for bringing it up.”

There was a moment of silence between the two of them before the Pale King broke the silence and asked: “So, how do you think I could change the letter to Monomon?”

“Honestly?”, she said and chuckled a bit. “Leave it like it is. She is sure to get a good laugh at it.”

“And she probably will frame it and put it at the wall of her archives, showing her students.”, he groaned. “Claiming that it was the one time that the king himself asked her about parenting advice.”

“That surely is something to brag about.”, she said and finally got up. “How about we get some breakfast now?”

“Certainly. I need my morning coffee anyway.”, the Pale King said. “Just give me a moment to get ready.”

After a short amount of time the Pale King met up with his Root again to walk to their designated dining room.

“You know, Root, nobody ever told me that being a father is so difficult.”, he said. “I love Hollow, but I am just so unsure about if I do the right thing. After all what I did to them as a grub...”

“At least they are comfortable being around you.”, his Root answered. “They are still distant with me.”

“...”, the Pale King managed to make his silence somehow audible before he spoke. “Root, my apologies. I have been so caught up trying to figure out how to be their father that I completely forget that you are their mother.”

“The last few days haven't been easy on you.”, she said. “For starters, I would like to be able to communicate with them. Couldn't I join the sign language lessons?”

“You are too big for the library.”, the Pale King said. “And, to be honest, I think it is better for Hollow to keep the audience small. But, I can promise you, Root, that we come and teach you what they learned, so that you will be able to communicate with them without me being around.”

“That would be admirable.”, she said.

“We could also try to get some more time in where we spend time as a family.”, the Pale King murmured himself. “Though it could get overwhelming for Hollow. We need to make sure they feel never pressured into something they don't want.”

“Understood.”, the White Lady said. “I promise that they can retreat whenever they want.”

“Thank you, Root.”, the Pale King said. “We have to take it slow. This situation is new... for all of us.”

“Yes, indeed.”, the White Lady said, nearly sighed. “For now, let's not dwell on it too hard. We can find a schedule later. Let us just eat together as a family.”

The both of them met up with Hollow and then proceeded to take in their breakfast. Hollow seemed far more cheerful, as much as the Pale King could interpret them, and not as upset as the day prior anymore. They had also put the robe on again, which seemingly one of the Royal Retainers had washed instead of sleeping. The Pale King took the opportunity to get Hollow's mind onto something else and asked them about their balancing problems.

“How is walking going, Hollow? I haven't seen you fall over lately.”

“Can walk mostly fine. Still stumble when running or wielding a nail.”

“You are making sure to heal your shell whenever you get a crack in it?”

A simple nod.

“Shall we do a bit more balance exercises later?”

Another nod.

“Excellent.”

They then looked up at his Root's head and wrote another sentence.

“Why isn't mother falling over all the time?”

As she saw the line, the White Lady broke into a cheerful laugh, Hollow backing away a bit, probably unsure if they had said something wrong.

“Oh, Hollow, don't worry, it was a good question.”, she said. “I am a plant based Higher Being. I don't have trouble walking around because my roots spread through the entire kingdom. It is why I can detach myself and walk around. I don't have any trouble with balance, because in a sense, I am always connected to my roots and they guide my way.”

“Does that mean I am a plant?!”, Hollow wrote and it made her chuckle even more while the face of the Pale King was rather stiff.

“Yes, my child, to a certain degree.”, she said. “Though it feels like you mostly inherited traits of your father, so I would say you are more wyrm like.”

“...and there is also void..”, the Pale King added in a low voice.

“So, that means that I am tree, wyrm and void.”, Hollow wrote and then added a single word. “Confusing.”

That was when the Pale King noticed that with their questions, they tried to figure out just who they were. Maybe starting with the biological part wasn't even the worst idea. He needed to explain all of this to them in greater detail at a later date.

After they were done with breakfast the three of them went off to spend their individual days. For the Pale King it meant taking care of the troubles in the kingdom, which mostly were infection based, while the White Lady was watching over the Pale Court and Hollow did... whatever. The Pale King had never asked them, simply assuming they would keep themselves busy, but thinking about their struggles with doing things on their own, it wouldn't surprise him if they waited in front of his chambers the whole day.

Once the Pale King managed to get away for a tiny little break, which he planned to extend just a tiny little bit, he was positively surprised to see that Hollow wasn't sitting in front of his chambers. Instead, he found them with Quirrel, examining the nail of the pill bug while Quirrel told them some details about it.

“Good morning, your majesty.”, Quirrel said once he noticed that the Pale King was standing there and observing them. Hollow turned their head too and raised one of their hands to wave.

“Good morning.”, the Pale King answered, coming closer. “What are you and Hollow doing?”

“Hollow has taken an interest in my nail and I thought I could show them and tell them a bit about it.”, Quirrel replied. “This surely is a better pass of their time instead of sitting in front of a door and waiting all day.”

These words made the Pale King flinch, exactly what he had imagined they would do had turned out to be reality. Though he found it interesting that Hollow had apparently been the one who had initiated contact. They were still busy examining the nail, they seemed to be pretty fascinated by it, so the Pale King asked Quirrel: “Have they asked you to see your nail?”

“Unfortunately, no.”, Quirrel replied, the first word clearly a reference about their talk on Hollow's dependency the day prior. “I realized that they stared at it, so I asked them if they wanted to see it. That was enough for them to get moving.”

The Pale King sighed and looked at Hollow. He just wanted for them to be able to make their own decisions, to not have the feel they weren't allowed to do anything on their own anymore. They probably still struggled with the concept of thinking and feeling, after suppressing it as a grub.

“Hollow also has a fine nail.”, Quirrel said, either taking the Pale King's interesting in Hollow as simply observing them or wanting to distract him. “It's different from mine, probably done from a nailsmith in the city.”

“Correct.”, the Pale King stated. “They had another nail before they pupated, but it had become too small for them. However, they still hold onto it and have stored it in their room.”

“It must serve as a memento.”, Quirrel said as Hollow was in the progress of comparing their nail to Quirrel's nail. The Pale King thought briefly about Quirrel's words. The nail they had had wielded as a grub, that had been the first item he ever had given them. Thinking about that they still held on it, the first “gift” he ever had given them, made him feel warm inside, but it also became very apparent to him just how blind he had been to them having feelings.

“By the way, your majesty.”, Quirrel addressed the Pale King directly. “You don't wield a nail, do you? May I ask why?”

“Oh, that is simply.”, the Pale King replied and with a flick of his wrist several projectiles appeared out of thin air and floated behind him before he made them disappear. “There is no need.”

“The mastery over soul.”, Quirrel stated. “Lady Monomon told me about it. Has Hollow inherited this trait?”

“Yes, they have.”, the Pale King said. “Though their focus is different from ours. Every higher being has their own form of how to focus soul. It is better for them to learn how to properly wield a nail for protection instead of relying on soul alone.”

“I see.”, Quirrel said and before the conversation could continue, the Pale King heard some of the Royal Retainers calling out for him.

“It seems like our break is over.”, he sighed. “We will see us later at the lesson. Hollow, take care.”

Both Hollow and Quirrel waved after him as he went with the Royal Retainers and listened to the duties he still had to fulfil for the day. Because of all the work he had neglected the paperwork had just stacked up and up and he really needed to tackle it. Between his royal duties, caring for Hollow and spending time with his Root, when exactly should he find time to find a solution for the infection? He already planned on skipping on sleeping again, even though his Root wouldn't be too happy about it.

After the Pale King was done with the deeds for the day, he met up with Hollow, who, to his disdain, had settled on sitting down in front of his chambers, again and started the promised balance training which he intended to hold through until his Root would get them for dinner. Like Hollow had said, simply walking was mostly fine, but they struggled when they would have to take a sharp turn. He then wanted to see how they would fare while running.

“Just run in a straight line.”, the Pale King said. The hall they were practicing in was long enough, so that they could maintain a good speed. “Or better, run to me.”, the Pale King said and flew closer to the end of the hall, positioning himself in the middle and prompting for Hollow to start running.

They didn't wait for a second demand and started to run right away, making it a few metres before the weight on their head, naturally they were hunched over forwards while running, brought them down and the Pale King flinched as he already saw them having a painful collision with the floor, already hurrying to be at their side to catch them, but before he had even closed one metre of distance before them, Hollow flashed and was at his side, stumbling into his arms.

“What in Hallowsnest...”, the Pale King mumbled, looking Hollow over, to determine that they were not hurt, which they weren't, but they looked as dumbfounded as he did and that was saying a lot from a being which was unable to emote.

“Hollow, what did you do?”, the Pale King asked, as soft as possible in an attempt to not scare them or making them think they did something wrong. They stared blankly at him for a while before raising shaking hands and signing. “Not. Know.”

“It looked like a teleport.”, the Pale King said. It was a form of soul, but not one that was easy to learn. In fact, the Pale King rarely ever used the teleport, it was making him feel dizzy and it was easier to just walk. He had to admit that it would have benefits in a battle though. That Hollow accidentally used it... that had to mean that they were a natural.

Hollow straightened themselves up and got out their journal.

“Teleport?”, they asked.

“In short, moving quickly from one point to another.”, the Pale King replied. “Is is quite impressive that you could use it without ever having been shown. It isn't easy to learn.”

“...I don't know how I did it.”, Hollow wrote. “Feel a bit dizzy.”

“It was your first time, that is normal.”, the Pale King said, but nonetheless, led them to a nearby bench to sit down. “I can only assume that you used it to avoid any damage while falling. I was too far away to catch you and your soul reacted to your distress and let you use the ability.”

Hollow looked at him and then wrote: “Felt different than a dash.”

“Because it isn't a dash.”, the Pale King said. “A dash is launching your whole body forward, using the momentum, a teleport is making your body disappear from one location and appearing at another.”

“I have never seen you do it.”, Hollow wrote.

“You see...”, the Pale King said, “I usually prefer to not teleport. It is easier to just walk or fly. I never had enough interest to train this skill to get over the dizziness it causes.” He looked at Hollow who had slightly leaned against him as he spoke. “Do you want to perfect that skill, Hollow?”

Their big eyeholes stared up at him, they seemed to consider, but then they nodded.

“Then we better get to practice.”, the Pale King said. “Only after you feel ready, of course. Not that you get nauseous.”

Was it even possible for Hollow to get nauseous? The Pale King assumed that it was, they ate and apparently had some kind of digestive system in that void body of theirs, it wasn't too farfetched that said void body would be able to regurgitate whatever had been put in it.

The both of them practiced Hollow's new skill until the White Lady would come to get them for dinner. In the meantime, the Pale King had started to feel rather dizzy from having to show Hollow how to teleport so often until they got the hang of it. And once they got the hang of it, they managed to teleport just fine, but managed to fall over every single time once they reappeared, which forced the Pale King to either run and catch them or even teleport to get to them, until he couldn't anymore and Hollow managed to fall on the floor rather hard.

They got up in an instant, but had a rather large crack across their eye. After they had trained their teleport for two hours, they were low on soul, so the Pale King helped them focus by taking their hands in his claw and sharing his own soul with them, so that the crack could heal.

“Before we try this again, we should tackle your issue with falling over all the time.”, he said before the both of them joined his Root for dinner. During the tea they had afterwards, the Pale King and Hollow used the time to show the White Lady which signs they had learned, so that she could understand them better.

After they were done, the Pale King and Hollow met up with Quirrel for the sign language lesson for the day. Just as yesterday, it turned out that Hollow was a quick learner and they managed to learn the new signs with ease and got even more comfortable with their new fingers they possessed since two days. They seemed to be so eager to learn, that they looked downright disappointed when the Pale King pointed out that it was time for them to go to bed. At least, the way they lowered their head and let their shoulders droop, looked like it. Even without being able to emote, the Pale King found them to be rather expressive. Or maybe he just took on all the little hints because they were his child.

Once the Pale King had tucked Hollow into bed, this time without tears gladly, they were far too exhausted from training and fell asleep right away, he planned to retreat to his workshop and found, once again, Quirrel waiting for him.

“Your majesty.”, he said. “Allow me to talk about Hollow again.”

“Feel free to speak.”, the Pale King said, leaning against the wall, then realizing that this wasn't very royal from him and stood straight in front of Quirrel.

“They aren't going to a school, right?”

The Pale King shook his head. Of course not. They had been planned to be the vessel which sealed the Radiance, there hadn't been any advantages of them having a proper education. Only thinking about it made the Pale King feel guilty again.

“I thought so.”, Quirrel said, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. “After all, their life had been planned differently.”

As Monomon's assistant, Quirrel was of course in the know and he couldn't help but flinch as he pointed out so blatantly what he still felt awful about. Quirrel took note of it and said: “My apologies, your majesty, I didn't want to overstep any boundaries.”

“It's alright...”, the Pale King said, silently cursing that his tail was twitching under his robes, he never could get this thing under control when he was nervous. “Do you want to suggest that we send Hollow to a school?”

To the Pale King's surprise, Quirrel shook his head and said: “No, I wouldn't advise for them to visit a school. Not only that they are mute and would have trouble expressing themselves, their education level would require for them to visit elementary school and their body is too old for them to fit in. Besides, they are... different.”

Quirrel certainly didn't meant this as an insult or another jab in the Pale King's direction, but he couldn't help but feel upset about it. He gently put one foot on his tail to finally get this thing to be quiet and not knock over anything breakable that was near.

“Higher Being... and void...”, he murmured, more to himself. No, it wouldn't be a good idea to send Hollow to a public school, Quirrel was right with everyone he had just told the Pale King, he just asked himself, why Quirrel had brought up the school in the first place.

“We already talked about them being dependent on others, especially you.”, Quirrel said.

“We... we already tried to talk with them about it, but it didn't went too well...”, the Pale King said, for some weird reason he felt like he was being judged.

“Your majesty, please don't worry, I am not here to berate you how to raise your child.”, Quirrel said. “I simply want to offer my help.”

“Um...”, the Pale King brought out, hating that he lost his words for a moment. “Then, um, please continue.”

“For children it is important to have a clear set of rules and a daily routine.”, Quirrel proceeded. “I am here now anyway, so I wanted to propose to act as their tutor when you are busy with your duties. This way, they can catch up on their education and they are busy until you have time for them.”

Any anxiety the Pale King had felt dropped off him at this words. That was a genuinely good idea. Hollow needed to get an education anyway and them spending the mornings and early afternoons with learning was far better than them just sitting there doing nothing especially as long as they only were allowed to spar with supervision and because of the infection the great knights were more out in the tunnels than in the palace, helping with keeping it at bay. Though, one thing remained in his thoughts.

“Are you sure you can handle them on their own?”, the Pale King asked.

“Please don't worry.”, Quirrel said, a cheerful smile on his features. “Whenever Lady Monomon doesn't have much work for me, I use to teach elementary classes. Sometimes I even act as the school counselor. Lady Monomon says that I am a natural with children. And I promise you, should anything happen, I will get you right away.”

“We don't have any objections then.”, the Pale King said. “Though we should ask Hollow first if they are fine with it.”

Just as the words left him, he realized his mistake. Of course they would be fine with it if he proposed it to them and if Quirrel would be the one to ask, they would ask for his permission first.

“I will gladly teach them if they agree.”, Quirrel said, either oblivious to the Pale King's mistake or, and he suspected that, ignoring it. “Come talk to me once you decided. Have a good night, your majesty.”

Quirrel then left and the Pale King retreated to his workshop, trying to come up with solutions only to – once again – end up with nothing. Eventually he ended up passing out on his desk and awoke the next morning with sore back and the need for several cups of coffee.

When he asked Hollow this morning during breakfast if Quirrel could be their tutor, they seemed to be eager at the proposal, even though the Pale King knew they would do it, even if they didn't want to. He decided that them having a positive reaction was good. His Root also agreed that it would be a good idea and that Quirrel and Hollow also could come get her when something happened. Once this was settled, the day started and over the week a certain routine set in.

He first would get up and then eat breakfast with Hollow and his Root, then he would escort Hollow to the library where Quirrel would teach them at all sorts of subjects, then he would need to attend to his royal duties until lunch time, which he either skipped to spend time in his workshop or eat a tiny little thing when his Root caught him. He then had to attend to his royal duties again until later afternoon. This hours he spend with Hollow and their balance training, as well as their teleport training. Then they would eat dinner and show his Root the sign language they had learned the day prior, also to make themselves remember, then the both of them would meet up with Quirrel again to have the sign language lesson for the day, which they attended until Hollow had to go bed. The Pale King would bring Hollow into bed and tuck them in and then retreat to his workshop to “work” on a solution for the infection or more despair that he felt like he was running out of options, often staying the whole night in the workshop or spending the night cuddled against his Root when she caught him.

Somewhen during this week a letter of Monomon arrived, in which she gave the Pale King genuine tips how to be a good parent, but also expressed worry and invited him and Hollow to come over when they had time and felt comfortable doing so, she would like to see the both of them in person to talk about their issues. The Pale King also had the assumption that maybe Quirrel kept her updated about everything that happened at the White Palace.

After the week had passed, Hollow had gotten pretty good at forming simple sentences with sign language as well as wouldn't fall over that much anymore, mostly still having trouble with fighting and even there they became better and fell around 40 % less than prior, so the Pale King decided that it was finally time to take that trek to Deepnest, so that he wrote Herrah a letter and announced their coming the next time he managed to wriggle in a free day, which would be in two days from now.

That moment had come and once again, the Pale King and Hollow would set out from the White Palace, being seen in the public, though this time they were going to Deepnest, which probably would be a not very warm welcome.

He turned around to see if Hollow still was with him and then said, not having them told where they were going, because he had wanted to keep it a surprise: “So, are you ready to meet your little sister?”

Hollow jumped up with excitement and nodded so enthusiastically they nearly fell over.

“I thought so.”, the Pale King. “Then stay close to me, we have a long way to go.” (Author's note: It was @ruthlesslistener who first told me about the idea that Quirrel could be Hollow's tutor and somehow it snaked its way into the story. All credit for the headcanon goes to him. Oh and look at this, they finally go to Deepnest! My apologies that it is getting prolonged another chapter, this story has a mind of its own and I can't force it to skip over scenes that it wants to have. Also, at first I decided to leave the entire story in PK POV, but the scene with the White Lady worked a lot better from her POV. Tell me if you prefer if I keep it in PK's POV only. I probably will use other POVSs very rarely anyway.) Next chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/618553918352441344/title-off-balance-chapter-7-fandom-hollow

[erindoodless]

a magical kind of love

CHAPTER 1: A NEW BEGINNING FOR DANIEL HOWELL

author’s note: sorry for taking so long to write this! school is very tiring. i hope to post at least every sunday! let me know if you would like to be on my tag list so you will be notified of future chapters and works.

summary: dan gets accepted into hogwarts and meets a new friend on the hogwarts express.

type: modern phan hogwarts au

wc: 2.3k

honorable mention: to my beta readers for their amazing editing skills and being able to read it very last minute @violetofthesea @some-angelic-flowers ​ @hermit-with-friendz

read on ao3 or continue reading below!

As Dan walked through the train station, he felt nervous butterflies in the pit of his stomach. He never liked normal school so the last place he wanted to go was Hogwarts. The idea of being among loads of obnoxious, magical people his own age stressed him out. All he wanted to do was stay home and go on the internet for the rest of his life because it was the only place he could be himself.

While he strolled into the station, it started to rain. Dan didn’t like the rain very much, so he sped to the entrance of the building. This made him believe that going to a wizardly school was such a terrible idea that the sky started to cry. In reality, it was raining to represent a new phase in his life. A brand new beginning for him.

When Dan first got his letter, both he and his parents were very confused. Although neither of his parents are Muggles, and he had exhibited magic before, he lacked any passion for it. They were sure that Dan wouldn’t get accepted for that reason, but his letter came anyway, and their attitudes changed. They were very excited for the first time in a long time for their son. Even though he didn’t want to leave his bedroom, Dan felt pressured by them to go. His bedroom was the only place he found peace. Yet, despite all his complaints, his irritating parents still made him go.

Dan’s mother took him along to the station on the day he was sent to Hogwarts. Similar to him, his mother had mouse-brown hair and dark brown eyes. Dan imagined that he used to have a more trustworthy relationship with his mother. Unfortunately, that was lost as soon as both of his parents shared their opinions about certain topics that he disagreed with. For being just 11 years old, Dan was intelligent for his age because he was able to form opinionated thoughts about controversial ideas due to his free access to the internet. They walked along with the platform. Dan still felt upset about the whole situation while he pushed his loud trolley. He was glad that his parents let him bring his dog Colin along so he could have some sort of friend. He was happy that Hogwarts updated their policies to allow dogs.

“Oh, don’t look so miserable Daniel. This is an opportunity that most children don’t get! You should feel lucky,” his mother said to him with a disappointing look on her soft face. The only thing that brought Dan ease from his mother is her tendency to feel empathetic for him. But in this circumstance, he didn’t feel any love at all and his mother was just disappointing him. “I’m sure you will meet loads of new friends.”

Dan let out a heavy sigh. He never had good friends at his primary school so he wasn’t sure why his mother believed that Hogwarts would be any different. The one time he had a friend was in his 4th year of primary school. His 8-year-old self tried to kiss him after they had a conversation about kissing, but the boy ran off before anything could happen. He never heard from him again.

As Dan was thinking about his time at primary school and walking through the station, his mother suddenly stopped in front of a pillar while Dan is lost in thoughts about primary school. “You’re supposed to run into the pillar. Didn’t you read the letter at all? The train is at platform 9 and ¾,” his mother asked, annoyed at Dan’s disinterest obvious in her voice.

“No? Why would I read a letter about a place I don’t want to go to? And why do they make you go to a platform that doesn’t exist?” Dan replied, not bothering to hide his misery. “And I’ll probably regret going even though you all think I’ll feel guilty about not going.”

This was a drastic moment when Dan’s awful life was changed forever. Without listening to his mother’s response, he just ran into the stone pole with his trolley and Colin yelped.

And there he was. He was standing right in front of the Hogwarts Express with loads of other wide-eyed children and their supportive families. Since it was 10:55 am, and the train was due to leave at 11 am, he decided to just get on the enchanted train so he could avoid his crazy mother as much as possible.

Fortunately for him, he was able to find a seat in an empty compartment. He sat down with a sigh of relief. The compartment consisted of 4 seats, 2 shelves to put up luggage, and a giant window. The luxurious seats were so squishy that one could easily sink into them.

The brown-eyed boy set his stuff down and let his dog out of that horrid cage. He was fully against putting Colin in a cage because he knew he was perfectly capable of walking to the station, but Dan’s mother and father said he would have to put the dog in a cage or leave him at home. Since he found comfort in Colin, he chose to put him into the confinement even though it made him feel very guilty. When the small dog came out, he did a long stretch and laid down on the comfy seat. Dan began petting him lovingly.

He came prepared for the 9-hour train ride to Scotland with his tablet, earbuds, and downloaded the whole season of Yuri On Ice!!! ‘It took 4 hours to download the episodes so this better be worth it’, Dan thought to himself. Thankfully, he also remembered to bring his portable charger in case his tablet battery got too low.

Just as he was about to start the first episode, he heard a soft knock on the door. Startled, he looked up to see a pale-skinned boy with bright blue eyes and bright ginger hair in the slightly opened doorway. Dan was not expecting to have any visitors so this was quite a surprise for him.

“Do you mind if I sit with you? Everywhere else is full,” the pale boy stammered out. He had a strong Northern accent and seemed very shy. Dan hesitantly nodded and the boy quickly sat down.

Dan avoided eye contact with the boy as long as he could and took a few glimpses at him while he was looking out the window. He had lots of colors in his eyes. His soft, orange hair was styled in a quiff. And damn, he was pretty. Even though he was just 11, Dan knew that he found boys nicer to look at than girls. This was another part of him that he had never told anyone in fear of rejection besides, of course, the one friend he tried to kiss. Thankfully, his old friend was somewhat a good person and never told anyone about what happened, even if he made a point of not talking to Dan after. The other parts included his Tumblr URL and his love for anime.

A few minutes later, Dan felt light taps on his shoulder. He looked up and saw that the boy was trying to speak to him. He paused his anime and took an earbud out to listen to what he had to say. “Hey, uh… My name is Phil Lester. What’s yours?” The boy, now known as ‘Phil’, questioned, somewhat awkwardly, his face turning even more red than his hair. He had a high pitched voice, though that might’ve just been nerves. Dan thought it was cute.

“Dan,” was all he said while not looking at Phil in the face. He returned to his anime because he knew he would start crushing hard if they began to have a conversation.

In the next hour or so, Dan noticed Phil eyeing Colin while the dog stared right back at him. Dan took his earbud out again and said, “You can pet him if you want.” Phil looked up at Dan surprised while the brown-eyed boy still wasn’t looking at him in the eye. The pale boy timidly placed his small hand on Colin’s head and began gently stroking him. Dan had never seen someone stroke an animal so delicately in his whole 11 years of being alive. The dog was having the time of his life as Phil began petting his belly.

“Wow, he really likes you,” Dan said out of confusion. He was shocked because it usually takes a while for Colin to trust people.

“Well, I guess I do have a way with animals,” Phil replied with a small smile on his face. “I live on a farm with my parents filled with lots of unique creatures. Maybe if I get to know you better, I can bring you home one time! We have thestrals, house cats, thunderbirds, and loads more. My favorite would have to be my own thestral, Henry,” he babbled on. Dan was distracted by when Phil said he could take him home. Does that mean someone finally wanted to befriend Dan?

“Did you bring a pet with you?” asked Dan. He was curious because he was the other way around where his parents never told him much about the magical world. Since they assumed he would never get into Hogwarts, he didn’t have an opportunity to learn much about special creatures.

“Yes! I have my lovely pygmy puff. She’s a bit on the crazy side, especially since a dog is here, so I’m going to leave her in her cage for now. I’ll show you her another time,” Phil smiled while looking at the small cage.

“Anyway, what are you watching on the screen thing? I’ve been curious about it the whole train ride,” the pale boy questioned. Dan wondered why the boy was suddenly being so talkative after sitting for an hour and not doing or saying anything. “Is that Muggle technology? My parents would never let me have technology.”

Dan was astonished to hear this. “You mean you’ve never watched anime, been on Tumblr, read fanfiction…?” Phil shook his head and had a puzzled look on his face. “Alright then. Come over here and we can watch this anime together.”

Phil blushed a bit again and went across to sit next to Dan. He was more fascinated by Dan’s tablet than anything else. He had never seen a piece of technology in this life besides the few times his parents took him out in public. Colin laid between the two boys while the blue-eyed boy was delightfully petting him again. “So, what exactly is an anime?” Phil inquired. Dan was even more shocked to hear this.

“Japanese cartoon. I need to show you everything now,” Dan responded. Phil let out a squeaky giggle and it made Dan’s checks turn deep red because of how angelic it sounded. “This one I download for the train is Yuri On Ice!!! It’s a competitive figure skating anime and it’s super gay.” That was another word Dan had learned from the internet. He had discovered all the different sexualities.

Phil looked even more excited now because if it’s a cheerful story, then it must be a great story. His parents had told him very little about the Muggle world and they didn’t want him to be involved with technology. All they wanted was their little boy to be a happy farmer. He spent the majority of his childhood reading educational magic books on the different creatures and plants on his family’s farm. He remembers reading the word ‘gay’ in one of his books and it was used to describe pure bliss.

“Oh, I love happy stories,” Phil stated with a small grin.

“I mean, this story has some sad bits. What makes you assume it’s a happy story?” Dan asked in a perplexed voice.

“Because it’s gay.”

Dan burst out laughing. “You know what, nevermind. You’ll learn eventually.” This made Phil even more bewildered than ever, but he just went along with it. Dan gave Phil one of his earbuds and showed him where to put it because he was originally trying to put it in his nostrils. Then they finally began watching. It turned out to be very depressing at the beginning. In Phil’s opinion, it wasn’t very gay. However, throughout the 22 minutes, it became quite funny with all the characters’ dramatic reactions.

After watching the first episode, Dan took out his earbud, and Phil did the same. “So, what did you think?” Dan asked in curiosity.

“I thought it was not happy at all. But I like the characters. And the theme song was good,” Phil responded, still unsure of the whole anime thing. They continued to watch the remaining episodes. Phil began obsessing over Yuri because of their similar love for dogs.

About 5 hours had gone by when they finally finished the anime. They had mini discussions between each episode so it took much longer than Dan expected. They still had 3 hours left on the train. The boys were struggling to think of something they could do or talk about because they didn’t want to be bored out of their minds.

While Dan was thinking of what they could do next, he felt something lay onto his shoulder. He looked over at Phil and realized he had fallen asleep with his head on Dan’s shoulder. Dan let out a sigh and accepted that he wouldn’t be able to move for a long time. He was feeling pretty tired as well so he rested his head against the back of the seat and closed his eyes.

He slowly fell asleep, happy that he possibly made a new friend.

authors note: please reblog and like if you enjoyed reading! again, let me know if you want on to be the tag list!

[violetsmoak]

Pieces of April [16/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099044/chapters/50202530

Summary: On the anniversary of his death, Jason’s second life takes an abrupt new turn and he’s faced with a challenge that neither Batman nor the All-Caste prepared him for.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Author’s Note: Here’s your daily dose of JayTim and baby for your quarantine reading pleasure! Stay safe, wash your hands and support your local healthcare, waste management and retail workers!

First Chapter

________________________________________________________________

The rest of the afternoon is spent on the phone, fielding calls from various departments and sorting out production complications. Interspersed are texts and Facebook messages from friends and family—Dick, wondering if dinner is still happening on Friday, Bruce wanting updates on the mob case, the Titans wanting to know if he’s coming to San Francisco that weekend—

Tim is evasive with all except the last one, informing Bart that there’s some family drama going on that will keep him home for a while. Once the speedster knows, everyone else will know, so it’s about as effective as sending a group text.

He resists the urge to phone Jason and see how he’s doing; he’s rather sure he won’t pick up.

(“I ain’t a damn kid that needs checkin’ up on, Drake.”)

Not that Tim is checking up on him. He just knows that whenever someone in the family is going through a personal crisis, that’s usually the time when Gotham’s rogues decide to act out.

So really, ensuring Jason’s stress levels stay manageable is a public service.

“Because that sounds like logic,” he chides.

Damian shows up around 3 o’clock and spends the next two hours alternatively disparaging everything about Tim from his too-long hair to how he organizes his filing system, to discussing WE resource allocation for an animal shelter he wants to open. The conversational whiplash is enough to make Tim’s head spin, and he makes a note in his phone to talk to Bruce about whatever it is that’s going on between them that’s so bad Damian prefers Tim’s company to his father’s.

Either Bruce put his foot down about another of Damian’s strays, or he still won’t agree that Robin should have a private prison to lock up rogues. 

Whatever the reason, Tim is very much out of his depth at the youngest Bat’s newest tactics for taking his frustrations out on Tim.

Though I guess workplace inconveniences are a huge step up from swords to the gut. Could always be worse, I guess.

It turns out he’s not the only one learning new and interesting coping strategies. Upon arriving home at six, he finds Jason tweaking the tech in his gear on the kitchen table, baby carrier three feet away.

His entire body is tense, like a spring ready to snap.

“Was she up all day or something?” Tim asks on the way in, putting his bag on the floor and loosening his tie.

Jason shoots him a baleful look. “She’s been crying all day. And she’s still barely eating. I think she’s starting to look a little yellow—Tim, why is she yellow?”

And Jason sounds—dare he say it—almost frazzled.

Right. Time for more damage control.

“I’ve got her,” Tim says, easing into Jason’s personal space and taking the baby. “You go to sleep. Or shower. Or watch TV or something. You’re starting to go batty.”

That earns a disgusted look, and even Tim winces because that was just bad.

“Did you seriously just say that?” Jason asks.

“No, you’re sleep-deprived and hallucinated it,” he replies.

“I’ll allow it,” Jason says, yawning. “But only because it could be true.”

Jason shuffles off upstairs and Tim heaves himself onto the couch, pulling out his phone to check his usual online haunts for potential cases or clues for his current case. Social media and forums are pretty good sources once you learn how to weed out the sensationalist crap.

After thirty minutes of nothing, he gives it up and wanders over to the dwindling pile of baby items. Jason hasn’t returned yet, so he’s either passed out from exhaustion in the shower or actually made it to bed. Since Tim can’t hear the water running, he supposes it’s the latter.

It won’t kill me to go without the pre-patrol nap today, I guess.

Studying the pile, he notes that the boxes with the crib, changing table and whatever else needed assembly, have all gone missing. Presumably, Jason set those up this morning in a fit of boredom or paranoia.

The only things that haven’t been touched are the blankets, soft toys and garments, other than whatever Isa’s been changed into already.

There are only about twenty different pieces of clothing, and according to his not-so-new best friend the Internet, that’s not going to be nearly enough given infant propensity to upchuck. Especially since it’s not all the same size. Tam had to guess how big Isa was, so at least half the onesies here won’t fit her for another month or two, which isn’t supremely helpful for right now.

Back to fiddling with his phone, Tim goes online to order some more supplies and discovers, to his delight, that there’s an entire line of pop-culture related babywear. Star Wars, Star Trek, Doctor Who, Superhero logos…

He grins as he orders one of everything for next-day delivery, wondering whether Jason’s more likely to complain or find it funny.

Under normal circumstances, he’d probably find it funny. For someone else’s kid.

There’s still no sign of Jason after sunset, so Tim feeds and burps the baby, then sets up his laptop and tablet in the kitchen to check some of his surveillance feeds for the mob case. However, Isa protests every time he tries to put her down.

“What’s wrong with you now?” he asks. “You’re warm, you’re fed—” He takes a pause to check and change her diaper, during which time she continues to mewl at him, “—and you’re dry. Which means now’s the time you got to sleep, okay? New babies are supposed to do three things: eat, poop and sleep. So get on that.”

Once again he attempts to wrap her up and place her in her carrier, but the whimpering becomes flat-out crying, her tiny face becoming purple with rage and her eyes pinching shut.

“Okay, okay—putting you down is a no,” he sighs, tucking her back in his arms to rock her gently. He watches his computer monitor balefully, knowing if he’s holding the baby, there’s not going to be any hacking of Gotham’s CCTV tonight.

Could text Babs and ask her to do it. Except then she’ll want to know why.

Which is also a no.

One-handed, he searches out his phone again, looking up possible reasons for Isa’s current temper and potential solutions online. One thing jumps out at him and he brightens. A quick trip to the Nest and back, and he has what he was looking for.

Which is how Jason finds him when he finally comes back downstairs around eight o’clock, showered, rested and altogether more human-looking than what Tim came home to. He pauses at the foot of the stairs, squinting at Tim. “Is that your cape?”

“My cape is made out of state-of-the-art piezoelectric fabric substrates that can become a weapon with the right electrical frequency,” Tim retorts, trying not to feel entirely self-conscious from his seat at the kitchen table, wrapped in a makeshift mei-tai with Jason’s daughter drooling into his chest. “Also, that thing’s filthy.”

“And this is…?”

“My old cape,” Tim replies, going back to his computer. “Sometimes newborns just need to hear a heartbeat to calm them down. The best way is skin to skin, but I’m kind of in the middle of something, so this is the next best thing.”

Jason tilts his head to one side in consideration. “That’s a good idea.”

“Yeah, I looked it up online.”

“Of course you did,” Jason groans, rubbing his temple. “Because that’s what normal people do. I didn’t even think of it, I was too busy trying to get her to stop crying.” He huffs, almost rueful. “Why the hell am I surprised that you’re good at this? You’re good at friggen everything.”

Huh. A compliment. Those are almost as rare coming from Jason as they are from Damian. He must really be out of his comfort zone.

“Maybe it’s just because I have a certain measure of distance from it all,” Tim suggests, standing up to leave his temporary workstation. “If I suddenly found out I had a kid, I don’t know how I’d react.”

“Bull. You’re just like B. You’d just stick it in the back of your mind and forget about how to feel about it until you’re ready to deal.”

Tim feels a sudden flare of anger. “Is that actually how you think I am?”

“You going to tell me you’re not?” Jason challenges.

Tim opens his mouth to do exactly that, only to wrinkle his nose at the sudden stench arising from the lump of baby tucked against his chest.

“Ugh. Someone needs a change.”

Again. Guess I wasn’t so far off about the ‘eat, poop and sleep’ thing.

Jason snorts. “As far as conversation enders, that’s a pretty good one.”

Tim carefully unwinds the fabric from around his body and deposits the slowly waking baby into her father’s arms. “Tag.”

“You suck.”

“Serves you right for being a dick.”

He feels almost no guilt leaving Jason to deal with the soiled diaper and cranky baby this time, still smarting a bit about the resentful accusation that was lobbed at him.

Just because I can compartmentalize doesn’t mean I forget about things. Or that I don’t feel them.

He’s just not like Jason, or Dick, or Damian, who get angry and lash out as loudly and as viciously as they can. And he’s not like Bruce, either, since Bruce really can flip a switch and put something difficult out of his mind if it interferes with the all-important Mission.

Tim’s tried doing that, and as successful as he was in his quest to locate Batman when he was lost in the time stream, that period of Tim’s life was the most desperate and hopeless he’s ever felt. It was painful in a way that was different from losing his father, or Connor, or Bart—mostly because he was forced to bottle everything up to get the job done.

It was months after Bruce returned before Tim started processing things normally again.

Not that I should expect Jason to know that, he muses as he grapples through the rooftops of Gotham. He might know about me from my files and when we occasionally work together, but he’s never stuck around long enough to get to know anyone who came after him.

The night is at its darkest, cut through only by the Bat-signal in the distance. He won’t be running into Bruce tonight then unless the GCPD is bringing him in on the Gazzo case. It’s unlikely since there hasn’t been any retaliation yet. GCPD protocol dictates they’ll pass it off to Homicide until orders from on high turn it over to Major Crimes.

Red Robin ends up stopping two muggings and a drug deal before making his way to Gazzo territory to take some surveillance photos of his own. Security images are helpful in general, but he has camera tech that will let him focus on details the CCTV won’t pick up. 

It’s another relatively early night for him, returning home just after midnight to upload his findings to the servers and shower off the grit and grime of the city.

The apartment is silent, and he expects Jason and Isa to be upstairs in the newly built nursery, but upon closing the secret door again, he notices the faint sound of breathing. Creeping over to the sitting room, he finds Jason passed out on the couch beside Isa’s carrier. The television is on but not showing any channel, instead casting a solid blue light across the room.

Tim can’t help noticing how Jason’s habitual frown has eased in slumber. There’s no trace of a sneer or growl on his lips right now, his mouth parted only to breathe.

He has never seen the older man like this.

There are pictures of him at the manor, of course, most of them hidden away in dusty boxes. It’s only recently they’ve started cropping up at the manor again, though Tim isn’t sure whether it’s Dick or Alfred that’s been putting them there.

Hell, maybe it is Bruce. It’s the exact kind of gesture he’d make to try to tell Jason he wants him around more, without actually having to tell him directly.

Whoever’s responsible for them, Tim’s memorized all of those photos. The boy in those is always grinning or making silly faces or not paying attention to the photographer because he’s busy doing something he shouldn’t be.

If there’s a picture of Jason looking so calm and peaceful, it’s hidden away in Bruce’s personal files where no one can find them.

Tim can sort of see why given how vulnerable his predecessor looks right now. This is the Jason that Bruce remembers, the one he’s built up in his memory that’s different from the Jason once enshrined in the much-maligned class case in the Cave. This is the Jason Bruce is trying to find whenever he squares off with Red Hood and mourns as lost when he can’t find him.

Which is stupid since he’s still right here. I wonder if anyone else will ever realize that?

Tim decides not to wake Jason; he might have been a jerk before, but he should sleep while he can.

Instead, he settles in on the other couch with his laptop to review the surveillance shots he took himself and from the security feeds. If he can figure out just which of these mobster muscle heads is the easiest to break, he can get a better idea of what might have happened to the teenager in concrete.

I’ll just do a quick scan tonight, and study them in more detail tomorrow.

Of course, as usual, he gets invested in his work and doesn’t look up again until about four o’clock, when Isa’s sharp cry pieces the silence. Tim jumps, having completely forgotten her presence, but that’s nothing on Jason, who vaults upward from his spot on the couch, body tense and prepared to react to whatever caused the noise, friend or foe.

His hand is already reaching for a gun—one that Tim is thankful to see is no longer there.

“It’s okay, it’s just time for the next feeding,” he says quietly, trying to sound both casual and soothing at the same time. Based on the bleary look he’s getting from Jason, he’s less than successful.

Jason glares at his empty hand, clenched as if to hold onto something, and Tim must be on the verge of falling asleep himself because for a moment he imagines he can see the outline of a sword.

Great. Hallucinations. Tomorrow’s going to be a triple-shot of espresso day, I can tell.

And it’s suddenly occurring to him that babies and their sudden loud noise-making skills might not be the best thing for someone that’s suffered the kinds of trauma Jason has.

He makes up a mental note to look up some strategies for that. He’s not quite sure how he’ll bring up the subject with Jason. While Jason is adamant that Tim’s the most like Bruce, when it comes to avoiding problems, he’s the one that has more in common with the man.

For now, he decides to just act as normal.

“You know there’s a perfectly good bed upstairs?” he quips. “Thousand thread count, fluffy pillows, solid mattress…”

“Shut up. I was watching something. Guess I fell asleep.” Jason swings around and makes a move toward the baby, but Tim makes a motion to stop him.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve got it.”

“You already took her when you got back.”

“How do you know? You were sleeping?”

“I was resting my eyes.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Go to sleep or you’ll be face-planting in your coffee tomorrow.”

“I’ll be fine, I—"

“This isn’t your responsibility, Replacement. Go to bed—I’ll handle this.”

Jason is clearly not someone to be reasoned with when sleep-deprived; Tim always suspected that, of course, but he’s never had the up-close-and-personal experience. It doesn’t make him any less frustrated.

“The whole point of you staying here is for me to help,” he reminds him. “So would you just accept it already?”

“You’re also the one with a nine-to-five job and actually need the friggen sleep.”

Tim grimaces. “Fine. But I’m going to make up a schedule for us tomorrow so we can divide the babysitting more equitably.”

“You do that, boy scout. Why don’t you make a chore-wheel while you’re at it?” Jason jeers, taking the baby and heading for the kitchen. “This isn’t kindergarten.”

“Are you sure about that?” Tim shoots back, scowling in frustration.

Just for that, I will make one. See if I don’t.

⁂⁂⁂

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Next Chapter

[justheretobreakthings]

The Least of These - Chapter 4

(Previous Chapter)

Word Count: 2,174 (Total Word Count: 12,464) Read on AO3

Short update, yeah, and not exactly action-filled, but hey, it’s been what, three months? Y’all deserve something at least.

Story Summary:

There have been plenty of people throughout the universe who weren’t exactly keen on the idea of a half-Galra being a paladin of Voltron. Why should things be any different on Earth?

In light of the paladins of Voltron being officially given a clean bill of health across the board as of this morning and being approved to participate fully in reconstruction efforts, Voltron and the crew of the Atlas will be stepping back from the public until further notice. Instead, their time will be devoted to actively assisting in restoration, relief, and security services.

For this reason, Voltron in association with the Galaxy Garrison will be limiting press presence from this point forward. Certain future planned public appearances by the paladins have been cancelled, and no interviews, photographs, video, or other media may be taken of the crew of the Voltron or the Atlas without direct approval from the Galaxy Garrison Department of Public Relations. This measure is to ensure the peace and privacy of the crews and prevent interference with their work.

Questions or requests for official press authorization should all be directed to the Galaxy Garrison Department of Public Relations.

“So, what, we’re talking media blackout here?” Pidge asked, looking up from her tablet. Shiro had forwarded the press release, one that was scheduled to be officially released this evening, to the other paladins as they had gathered for their group meeting in the rec room. Pidge was the first to break the silence, and the others looked up from their own devices or from where they had been reading over others’ shoulders, as they finished reading it as well. Keith was the only one who didn’t, and instead he continued scowling down at his knees where he sat scrunched and cross-armed in the couch corner. Shiro had already shown him the press release beforehand.

“Not a total blackout,” Shiro answered. He was the only one standing, his hands grasping the top of an empty chair as he faced the others, straight-backed and authoritative. “We’re not cutting off the media altogether, that would just seem suspicious as hell. But the Garrison wants us to limit our media presence as much as possible for the time being. And for the few media appearances we do make, it seems they want us to, ah, limit the scope of discussion topics. No talking about relations with the Galra, nothing about Keith’s role on the team; we’re supposed to focus only on reconstruction on Earth, and direct the focus back onto that topic if they try to bring up anything else.”

He lifted his own tablet, pulling up the e-mail he had been sent by the communications department. “Apparently we’re gonna be meeting with them tomorrow to go over protocol for dealing with the press right now and getting briefed on whatever damage control campaign they come up with, but I thought it’d be best if you guys knew now, so we can, um, discuss it without interference from the PR people or - or judgment.” Keith didn’t miss the way Shiro’s eyes flicked toward him before he continued, “So if you’ve got anything you want to say about - ”

“Yeah, couple things,” Lance said. “First off, does this include, like, just fan photos and stuff like that? Like, you know, if I’m out walking down the street and someone wants to take a picture with the legendary paladin - ” Keith rolled his eyes. “ - Is that allowed? Or does that count as, like, an unauthorized photoshoot? Because I’d kinda hate to deprive everybody of the chance to get their very own personal pictures of this beautiful face, you know?”

“Probably,” Shiro said. “If you do that too often, it may contradict the whole thing about us all being busy and wanting privacy.”

Lance nodded thoughtfully. “Okay, guess that makes sense. Secondly, more of a comment than a question: this is bullshit.”

Shiro sighed. “Look, I know that these measures may seem a little annoying, but - ”

“No, no, it’s not the measures themselves,” Lance said. “I don’t like them, sure, but all things considered, I guess they sorta make sense. They don’t want us adding fuel to the fire, that’s fine. The bullshit is the reason they’re doing it. They decide to just cut off our media presence and drop the subject of the Galra altogether because some assholes are getting pissy about Keith?”

Keith hunched his shoulders, eyes down so as to not have to meet the gazes of the rest of the team. There it was. He had wanted to avoid trouble, wanted to avoid causing any difficulty for the other paladins. But it seemed that it wasn’t an option for him. His very presence on the team was always going to be a problem, one way or another.

“It does seem rather strange that they’re going about things this way,” Allura said with a frown. “Granted, I’m hardly knowledgeable in how Earth’s media or this Garrison works, but if there is such tension over the issue of cooperation with Galra, wouldn’t it be best to address the matter directly to the masses rather than push it into the background?”

“Apparently not, at least not while tensions are so high on the matter,” Shiro said. “Keep in mind, the Galaxy Garrison’s got its media and public relations department and all, but it’s not a news station. They’re not under any obligation to try to raise awareness of any issue or sway public opinion in any direction. Their job is the space program and military efforts, and if staying neutral on the whole thing is the best way to focus on keeping those running smoothly and safely…” He shrugged, and Keith detected a hint of bitterness in his voice when he finished, “I guess it’s their call to make.”

“Yeah, but to go straight from having Voltron be the Garrison’s media darlings to suddenly wanting us out of the spotlight as much as possible?” Hunk said. “Pretty big shift in plans, isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid I’m probably to blame for that,” Shiro said. With another sigh, he moved around the chair to sink into it, pausing to rub at the bridge of his nose before continuing, “Even with all the press stuff we’ve been doing, they’ve all been about that battle with Sendak and how Voltron works and the Garrison’s operations. Tensions against the Galra were there, sure, but they weren’t really a point of focus for anyone. When I made that speech at the medal ceremony, I guess I pushed the issue in the spotlight, and also kinda made it look like Voltron was warring with the Garrison over the whole matter. Guess it was a polarizing move on my part.”

“Well, uh, for what it’s worth, I think you did a good job,” Hunk said.

Shiro gave him a little smile. “Thanks, Hunk. But, still, I should’ve thought it through more. I was fired up, and I made a poor judgment call.”

“You didn’t,” Keith spoke up. He didn’t lift his gaze, but he felt the others turn to look at him even without seeing them. “People listen to you, and they gave you a platform and a microphone, and you used that to speak up about something that matters. That’s a good thing. But you - you shouldn’t have had to make a stand about anything at all.”

He took a deep breath and looked up, eyes flicking between his teammates’ attentive gazes. “Look, I, um - I know that having a half-Galra on the team doesn’t exactly - doesn’t exactly make things easier for us. For Voltron. And it’s caused problems before, and I should’ve known it would cause problems here too. I’m really sor- ”

“No,” Pidge cut him off.

Keith blinked over at her. “No?”

Pidge scowled and jabbed her finger toward Keith. “I know what you’re about to do. You’re about to apologize for, what, existing? Being born? Well, stuff it, Keith. You’ve got nothing to apologize for.”

Keith sighed. “That’s not it, I was just going to apologize for, you know, for causing trouble…”

“Yeah, trouble just based on the fact that you’re half-Galra, which is something that you can’t fucking help. It’s not your fault that people are idiots about it.”

“Look, I’m just saying, if it had been someone else on the team instead of me, someone less… controversial... hell, if I just weren’t the one piloting Black - ”

“Then it’s doubtful we would still be alive to be having this discussion in the first place,” Allura finished for him. She tilted her head as she looked at Keith, a furrow in her brow that suggested either sympathy or pity; neither was particularly appealing, but between the two, Keith hoped it was the former. “I know how the people who have this problem with you are thinking, and why they feel the way they do. And I know it’s not right. It… wasn’t right when I was the one who thought that way, and it’s not right now.”

“And, hey, long as we’re talking blame,” Lance said. “Isn’t this kinda the Garrison’s own fault? If they hadn’t pulled Keith out of that ceremony thing, Shiro wouldn’t have made the speech in the first place.”

“They had their reasons,” Shiro relented. “Admittedly, it seems they were right in thinking it was safer to keep Keith out of the spotlight.”

“You saying you agree with them?”

Shiro hesitated. “I… understand their viewpoint.”

“So that’s a no.”

“It’s just us here, Shiro,” Pidge said. “You don’t need to be diplomatic. You can say it: fuck the Garrison.”

“Language, Pidge.”

“Oh, please, I know for a fact that you swear like a sailor too when no one’s around for you to be a ‘good role model’ to.”

Shiro turned to stare at her. “How do you even…?”

“Matt shares stuff, Shiro.”

“Ah. Remind me to slap him later.”

“Will do. Seriously, though, come on. The Garrison’s PR people may be trying to keep the peace and all, but let’s not pretend they’re all-knowing or unfailing or anything. These are the same people who tried to cover up what happened on the Kerberos mission, remember? The ones that claimed you and my family were dead, blamed you for it, tried to keep everything secret when you crashed back to Earth? And now they’re screwing Keith over. Just doesn’t end with these people.”

Shiro set his jaw. “I’m… certainly not their biggest fan,” he said slowly. “But while we’re here on Earth, we’re working closely with them. I’m captain of the Atlas, after all, and that’s their ship. It’s easiest and best for all of us if we play nice.”

“Okay, fine,” Pidge said, crossing her arms. “I’ll play nice, but first you gotta say it.”

“Say what?”

“Fuck the Garrison.”

Shiro rolled his eyes. “Pidge - ”

“Aw, come on, Shiro,” Lance said, a grin splitting across his face. “I said it about twelve times a day while I was a cadet. It’s cathartic.”

“I really don’t think - ”

“Say it or I’ll dedicate all my waking hours to finding every reporter in the city and inciting riots.”

“For the love of - fine. Fuck the Garrison.”

Pidge and Lance both let out whoops, and Hunk even clapped, while Allura simply stared at the lot of them in confusion. Keith couldn’t stop his own little smile from escaping. “Now,” Shiro said. “If that’s all taken care of, guess we’re done here. Officer Hannegan said he’s gonna try to get some candid photos arranged of us helping at a cleanup site, so someone will let you know when that’s scheduled. You’re all dismissed.”

The paladins got to their feet around Keith, some soft grumbling among them as they made their way to the door. Shiro got up from his seat, but rather than leave, he moved to the couch settling down into the corner opposite Keith, who was still stiffly scrunched in place like he had been through the whole group meeting. Once the team was all out of their room and the door had closed behind them, Shiro cleared his throat. “How you doing, Keith?”

“Fine,” Keith answered.

“Really?”

“Mm.” Keith straightened his posture and stretched out his legs. “Really. That… went better than I’d expected.”

“Oh?” Shiro raised a brow.

“Well, I just had thought that - that the others would, uh, you know…”

“Blame you?”

Keith shrugged.

“Yeah, kinda figured you were thinking along those lines,” Shiro sighed. “Pidge was right, though, Keith. If people have a problem with you being Galra, that’s their problem, not yours.” He nudged Keith’s foot with his own and gave him a small smile. “And give your team some credit. They know that too, and they’ve got your back.”

“Yeah...”

Shiro let out a huff of breath. “I know this is frustrating, but - but for now, we’ll try to keep busy. And if anyone gives you trouble, you come to me, okay?”

“And what?” Keith asked, quirking a brow. “You’ll beat them up for me?”

“I’ll give them a scare, at the very least.” Shiro yawned and got to his feet. “Speaking of keeping busy, I gotta meet with the Atlas crew and give them this whole rundown too. You need anything, you tell me, okay?”

“Okay.”