#Wind is being especially silly here by throwing his own feelings aside to take care of Bunny

[sunfloweraro]

Stormy Nights

Wind and Bunny both hate storms. Tonight, Wind’s overprotective older brother instincts (mostly) win out.

Tagging: @thatonecrazysidekick @tiredgaytheatrekid <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

Once he had shucked his sopping wet day clothes, strung them out to dry, and thrown on his comfortable pyjamas, Wind settled by the fire, inching a little closer when lightning lit up the room. Maybe, if he pushed himself close enough, the crackle and warmth and light of the fire would banish the storm from where it crawled over his shoulders and pierced his memories.

Another boom. Wind flinched, squeezing his eyes shut against the painful memories pressing up against the backs of his eyelids. Tried to focus on the warmth and the crackle of the fire washing over him and not the hard wooden floorboards of the ship swaying beneath him and—

A small sound. Wind looked up, curious. At some point, Twilight had dropped Bunny off beside him to dry and settle. Alone, Bunny shook like a leaf in a gale. He had curled up into a tight, likely painful ball, his face pressed down into his front paws and his eyes squeezed shut, just as Wind’s had been seconds ago. Another soft sound—a cry from Bunny, weak and whimpering.

Wind gasped, understanding washing over him.

“Hey,” Wind said, just loud enough to be heard over the storm. “Everything alright, Bunny?”

Bunny’s head whipped up. He stared at Wind with wide violet eyes, glistening with unshed tears, and Wind’s heart twisted. He had never seen an animal cry before.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He shifted closer, but didn’t yet touch Bunny. He had seen the bandages on Warriors’ hand, had seen the nasty wound left behind by Bunny’s teeth. “Are you scared of the storm, little guy?”

Another boom of thunder that Wind barely noticed under his heavy concern for the rabbit. Bunny, however, let out a cry, scurrying closer to Wind and burying his face in Wind’s leg, hiding away.

“Aw, that’s okay,” Wind murmured. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Do you mind if I…” Carefully, he set a hand over Bunny’s shaking back. When Bunny leaned into his touch, he swept the rabbit up into his arms, cradling him close and pressing Bunny’s little face into his shoulder. “There you go. I’ve got you. I’ll keep you safe.” Under his comfort, Bunny’s shakes began to settle quickly, and Wind understood Hyrule and Twilight’s infatuation with their newest member—Bunny was so soft and perfect to cuddle, and if his older brother protectiveness was running this high after mere minutes of interacting with the rabbit, then he could only imagine how whipped the other two were. And as Bunny heaved a sigh and relaxed completely into him, Wind knew he could die for this sweet little rabbit.

Lost in soothing Bunny as he was, Wind wasn’t prepared for another booming crack of thunder. He jumped with a soft eep!, head whipping around, wide eyes fixated on the outside world. With no doors in the stable, he could see the pounding rain, the world lit up by strikes of lightning. Fear turned in his chest. His breaths quickened.

Bunny let out a whine.

Immediately, Wind loosened his hold on the poor rabbit. “Sorry, sorry. Guess the storm startled me. Are you alright? That was a big one.”

Bunny was watching him thoughtfully, calm as ever under Wind’s comfort. He had been told Bunny was a little more intelligent that most beasts, but Wind hadn’t expected for the rabbit to be staring at him with genuine concern in his eyes.

That wasn’t any normal animal. Not even Wolfie seemed to understand to this degree, though Wind had his suspicions about the wolf.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Wind said, rather than the millions of questions in the back of his mind. “I’ll keep you safe tonight, okay? I promise. You can always come to me if this happens again—there’s no shame in asking for help.”

Bunny nodded slowly, another pebble on the ever-growing pile of Wind’s questions. But for tonight, with the raging storm outside, he would leave it be. He had a new friend to keep safe.

And if he comforted himself in the process, well then, no one else needed to know.

[genshin-obsessed]

Hi hi hi! I love your writings with a PASSION, so I was wondering- could you please write some headcanons for Diluc, Childe and Zhongli? Where the reader is his best friend and secretly loves him but he doesn’t know? Then the reader takes a bad hit for him during battle (like he thinks the reader is dead bad) and he just holds the reader and begs them to hold on, which leads to the reader confessing their love? Up to you if reader dies or not at the end! Thank you so much 💖💖💖

Once again, an anon has given me too much power. But I shall be responsible with it 🥺 i killed you in only one 🥺

Warning: mentions of panic attack (for Childe), and blood. I’m on mobile so I can’t add the little cut off.

Too Late

You’d loved Diluc for a long time now. You two had been friends since you were young and you couldn’t help but fall for Mondstat’s Darknight hero.

There were many occasions you’d tried to confess. How did they go? Not well, since you still hadn’t been able to do it.

You had decided to quit due to many failed attempts, but then…

“Abyss mages!” You and Diluc fought together often, especially once you figured out his secret. You were pretty tough, able to stay on par with him. But he was only humans

“DILUC!” Without thinking, you threw yourself in front of him, feeling the charged arrows repeatedly hit your body. You screamed in pain as your body collided with Diluc’s causing the two of you to fall to the ground.

Diluc quickly but gently moved you aside before taking out all the enemies. You weren’t able to watch, you often thought he looked beautiful while fighting. He was so graceful, almost as if he were dancing instead of fighting.

The blood pooled around you as you felt the world get darker. Why was it so difficult to stay away? You… had no issues staying up before. So why now?

Red flashed in front of you and you saw concerned red eyes looking at you. Diluc.

“Hey… darling… are you ok?” He asked in the softest voice he could muster. He gently lifted you up but it sent a burst of pain through you.

“I-I… n-no…” you murmured, your eyes looking up at the sky. You winced as water droplets fell on you, but… it wasn’t raining?

No. Diluc was crying.

“It’ll be ok.” He whispered, holding you tightly as your blood poured onto him.

“I-I l-love you…” you whispered, watching as his teary eyes widened.

“What?”

“I’m in l-love with y-you…” Why? Why would you say this now?! Why would you wait this long? He couldn’t save you…

You and Childe always had a bond. A very odd one. You two met a few years ago and you hadn’t realized how quickly you fell in love.

Childe never showed any signs of being in love though. He didn’t even try to throw you a bone or anything. Ok.. that sounded bad but it was true.

Over time it got harder and harder to keep it in. Yet, you didn’t want to ruin this beautiful friendship you already had.

“Oh these guys are easy!” Childe laughed as he tore through the abyss mages ahead. Silly, weak abyss mages who thought they could take him on.

“Don’t get so cocky!” You responded, using your abilities to knock one back. Childe often seemed to throw caution to the wind and just jump into fights. It was all fine… everything was going good. Childe was powerful, relentless, and… almost invincible.

“I’ll be fine! Hah, see that-” Childe’s smile fell as he turned around and saw you inches away from him, arms wide open, with an ice spike in your torso. “(F-f/n)?” His voice cracked and he’d asked like he didn’t even know it was you.

“Th-this is… f-fine.” You muttered as you stepped forward, only for your knees to buckle. Childe caught you immediately, his eyes wide in horror. You took a hit for him because he wasn’t being careful.

Childe lowered you onto the ground and in a blinde rage, completely obliterated any enemies left standing. He ran back to you and picked you up. The ice spike had melted, leaving a gaping hole in your chest. Blood pooled around you two as Childe tried to calm his breathing.

It was really hard to breathe. It felt like vines were wrapping around his chest, getting tighter and tighter. It was harder to breathe and the world was starting to cave in. No, wait it was getting bigger. It was getting bigger and he was getting smaller. Tears spilled down his cheeks as he held you tightly.

Through your darkening vision, you reached out and touched his cheek, wanting to calm him.

“I-it’s ok m-my love…” you whispered, unable to hold back the feelings. If you were going to die here, he had to know. “I-I love you…”

It had taken a minute before Childe was able to calm down a little. Enough for you to repeat your words and for him to hear it.

There was an overwhelming dread building up for Childe. You confessed to him… HIM. Someone like him.

No. He couldn’t let this end here. Childe took a few deep breaths and stood up, picking you up right along. He was going to save you. He was going to save you, then confess, then make you his.

You met Zhongli in Liyue not too long ago. It had been a little over a year and you’d fallen in love quickly.

Zhongli was charismatic, knowledgeable, and a little clumsy with his money. But you still loved him.

You wanted no one but him to stay by your side for the rest of your life. But the thing was, you didn’t know how he felt. Whether he loved you or not.

“Zhongli!” You called out, as you ran towards him. People were screaming and running as there was an attack in Liyue. You had just escaped with your life from an attack on the building you were in. The only safe place you imagined was next to the man you loved. You were weak and had no vision. “ZHONGLI!”

The man finally heard you and he looked around, his eyes scanning the crowd repeatedly. Finally, his golden eyes spotted you, pushing past everyone. He ran to you, helping you away from the people and getting you to a safer locations

“What are you doing here!? You need to go somewhere safe!”

“It is safe! By you! I don’t know where else to go anyway.” You said, moving closer to him. Zhongli took your shoulders and looked you in the eye.

“I would love nothing but to keep you at my side, but it’s simply too dangerous. Go. I’ll come get you later.” You didn’t want to, but he was right. You needed to get somewhere safer.

“Ok… ok. I’ll go.” You mumbled, feeling your heart break. Of course he wouldn’t want someone as weak as you around him.

“Stay safe. I… I have to tell you something important so make sure you’re in one piece. Ok?” You nodded as he turned around and moved back into the fray.

As you turned to leave, you felt someone grab your arm. It was swift as their lips pressed against your ear.

“He’ll die in 10 seconds. Why don’t you save him?” You whipped around but saw no one. Well, that’s not true. You saw a woman with a spear, aiming it towards Zhongli.

Your body moved before you could think. By the time the woman had thrown her spear, you were a foot away from Zhongli, your arms out wide as the spear impaled your chest.

Zhongli didn’t even need to look to know something happened to you. He felt a sharp pain in his chest and his body almost mirrored your own. He touched his chest the same way you did, he fell to his knees with you, however, instead of falling over like you, he caught himself.

“(F/n)...” he muttered painfully. He knew. He just knew. He turned around and saw the blood spilling out of the wound intensely, as you coughed. Zhongli pulled you into his arms and turned your face to look at him. “No- Hey! Hey, look at me!”

“Zh-Zhongli…”

“Why?! Why did you do this!?” He cried as tears welled up in his eyes.

“Because I-I love you.” He pulled your face towards him, gently pressing his lips to yours. It was short but sweet.

“Don’t you leave me. Th-that’s what I was going to tell you. So don’t you leave me. I’ll save you, I swear I will.” Zhongli lifted you up and pressed a kiss to your forehead. He would save you, for without you, there was no reason for him to live.

[seancekitsch]

Intended: Chapter 2

warnings: none i think??? talks abt betrothals and gender roles, canon witcherverse stuff

You arrive at the gates, half starved and littered in cuts and bruises. You cling to the dagger like it is the one thing keeping you alive. Foolishly, you had not rolled up the bed roll and taken it with you, so now your back bends at an odd angle filled with exhaustion and discomfort. After a stern conversation with the guards at the gates, the people of Brugge welcome you in. Lady Venzlav, the widowed sister of the queen, taking you in like an adoptive grown daughter. First thing she does is give you a much needed bath. She gives you new dresses, ones that go to the floor and do not show off your riding boots, ones that are suitable of a lady of the court and not of a vagabond or a traveler. You get new plaits in your hair gifts of jewelry from men at court to replace what you lost and as an attempt at flattery or courtship. For all intents and purposes, you return to your old life. Only, it's not. Your family, your home; it's all gone. You struggle to find new friends, a new place in the court despite Lady Venzlav’s encouragement and the welcoming of everyone else. But there is a twinge of pity in their eyes, and you feel it when your back is turned, you feel it licking at your back like the flames that Cahir- stop. You are safe. You are in Brugge; You can reinvent yourself as a Bruggian. You can forget the knight and the week in the woods.

Exactly a month and six days later, you find yourself waking from your fifth dream of the night in the black armor and his soft smile that used to make you swoon. These dreams are bittersweet, reminding you of the future that could have been, what you almost had. But they also stir up his lies. Cahir had looked you in the eye, kissed you, laid beside you and held you in his arms all while lying to him. He kidnapped you, but somewhere deep down you knew it wasn't meant like that. You know that every time you practice in your chambers, swinging clumsily with the dagger, sloppy movements in the mirror alerting you to all of your inadequacies. It reminds you of what else he could have taught you.

Lady Venzlav is a nice woman, if not set in her ways. She encourages the book reading, the writing, all of which you always loved. She encourages music and dancing, which are fine. But it’s the scripture and the belief of a woman’s place that tend to upset you. She believes you should be a good and dutiful wife, demure and obedient once you are betrothed to a suitor. She proactively considers you betrothed in her mind, and has been watching you closely. Had she known there was a dagger concealed in your stays when you had entered through the gates, especially a Nilfgaardian dagger, she would have had it destroyed. This was your big secret, one you were sure you'd be punished for if anyone were to catch you practicing combat with a weapon belonging to the enemy. The dagger feels heavy in your hand, it's a comforting heaviness, one that feels like safety and comfort. One that you can hardly bear to think about, for it reminds you of an embrace by a campfire. You're confident in your abilities, as clumsy and foolish as they might look. You had a good teacher, that you couldn't deny, and you know with practice you will only be better.

The dagger keeps your mind at bay. Your slashing and weaving in the mirror with a torn chemise and stays you kept hidden from Lady Venzlav making you feel strong and self sufficient like being on your own had made you feel. Lady Venzlav had been less than subtle about taking up your parents' mantle of having you married off sooner rather than later. Your status of a spinster did make you a questionable wildcard at court, and she already had several prospects for you. A small charity, she was going to let you pick from the possible suitors; all of them twenty years your senior, known for being womanizers or brutish, all abhorrent in their own special ways. Of course this is because you are an outsider. Although you may adopt the identity of being Bruggian, you are not, and you will not be afforded the luxury of a choice of Bruggian in your marriage prospects. Not that you mind better choices either, you intend to snub them all as you did the suitors in Cintra. Before your heart belonged to you alone, but now you fear you may have left it in the woods. You angrily throw the dagger to the ground, huffing at the thought of being resigned to the title of wife.

Cahir wanders alone. Heading slowly east, but mostly hoping to avoid any detection. He knows, should he be found to have failed his mission, to have failed to bring Cirilla back to Nilfgaard, makes him an enemy and a fugitive in his own right. He faces imprisonment, possibly execution, if he returns home. Truly, if he had just let the woman go, sent her to another kingdom or let her to her own devices, he might have been able to find Cirilla before she found herself with the witcher. He might have been able to succeed in the quest and been able to bring her to Nilfgaard, where he would have been rewarded and maybe even given a shiny medal or some other trinket that seems inconsequential now. But he knows that slim chance dried up like a stream in a drought, and now he walks in hopes of finding you, the one living soul on this continent that he would feel safe seeing, and even then you might run him through with that dagger when you see him. Cahir knows he would not blame you if you tried.

He had never, truly, intended you the harm or heartache he caused. He had realized the moment he entered Cintra that there was no good reason whatsoever a man like the emperor would want a little girl. Cahir always longed to be a knight, like the ones he would read about in legends and would play pretend as when he was a child. He wanted to be a hero, to help someone and be dashing and put his life on the line and return home with a hero's welcome where a nondescript beautiful lady would give him her favor and they'd fall in love, just like in the books. When he saw you, savage and hardy, the face of the woman he imagined as a child came into focus, features unblurred, sharpness set in. He knew he had to save you, even if he didn't fully realize what he was doing yet. He realizes the moment you leave that knighthood is no longer on his list of priorities. The moment he wakes up alone, his priorities in life become a humble one, wanting nothing but to be back by your side and to make you happy. Cahir is a realistic man, however, and knows traveling must be done by moonlight, and that if he is truly going to defect he must lose this armor somewhere along the way. He has been shunned from three towns he tried to search for you, and hopes none of them were where you were. There was one where he was able to work for a horse, and now saves his muscles riding. He has a good feeling about the next country over, about Brugge. This is where he heads now.

“Cahir, I mean to ask,” you start, a little nervous. What if he wasn't the man you knew him to be? The armor he wore did not reflect the gentle man he was. He nods, encouraging you to keep talking as he carves the fish he had caught earlier for dinner.

“Why don't you have the Nilfgaardian accent? You have the armor. You look the part, but you don't sound it.”

At your words, his posture straightens, a look of pride flashes across his eyes as he sets aside the fish to talk with his hands presumably.

“Ah,” he begins, “Beauty and extremely perceptive. That's because I’m not Nilfgaardian. I’m from Vicovaro.”

“Isn't that one of the Nilfgaardian vassals?”

“Yes, but it is also so much more.”

You can tell that this is a point of pride for him in the way he can't hide a smile, and the way his hands are already gesturing before his thoughts are fully out of his mouth. You fiddle absently with the hem of your skirts as he tells you of the beautiful sunny shores, the memories of the sun tanning his skin as a child, the magnificent sprawling schools, the beautiful ancient castles and lush greenery.  He’s proud of his mother’s homeland and to bear her name along with his own. There is a difference between Vicovaro and Nilfgaard, how silly you were to not know it before.

“Vicovaro,” you repeat, tasting his home on your tongue. You'd only known Cintra, though you know you weren't a born Cintran. The cold and wind didn't suit you, often spending the winter months hiding indoors by a fire and writing away in your journals.

“Maybe one day I can take you there,” he offers, truly meaning it.  You scoot closer to him, curling your fingers around his palm and bringing it to your lap.

“We could make it home,” you say, equally truly meaning it, “I’d follow you anywhere, Cahir.”

You lean in for a kiss.

Lady Venzlav’s screaming in the hall outside your chambers snaps you out of your memory. You scramble to hide the dagger back in your stays as her voice gets closer and what she says becomes more clear.

“It’s the army! The Nilfgaardian army, they’re riding to the gates!”

Again? Again you must flee from this army? Again you must watch your home and all of your belongings burn around you. Not this time, you resolve, you will not go down without a fight. There's no knight to kidnap you and spare you from whatever fate you face and that's how you want it. You tighten the laces on your boot and move across the room to fling the door open to find the lady your mentor.

“Nilfgaard is here? At the gates? We must fight!” you exclaim, head swiveling in search of anything to rip off the walls to help arm other women of the court if you were to need it.

“We must hide,” the older woman counters, no doubt remembering the sacking of Cintra, no doubt remembering the friends she lost. You decided it best not to tell her of the knight that helped you from the flames and the letter opener you’d swung screaming like a banshee and his gentle care in guiding you from peril, despite how you hope you'd never see him again, nor do you care what his fate might be.

“If hiding does not work, we need to have a choice,” you spit with finality, the scar on your collarbone looking garish in the torch light and reminding the good Lady Venslav of what you’d seen. She nods solemnly and goes further down the hall, no doubt to alert the other ladies of what they must do.

You, however, run to the window of the staircase at the end of the hall, the only one that gives you a view of the gate. There is exactly one knight on one dark horse making his way to the gate. Nilfgaard would never send just one soldier, you think, they are not in the business of parlay or envoys before an attack.  It has to be a trick, a trap, a diversion, but why? It's not any of those things, it dawns on you, and your heart lurches into your stomach. It’s him.

You descend down the stairs in a fury, blindly pushing past guards and other nobles on your way to any level that will grant you access and force your way through until you reach the servants kitchen. There's always an exit in the servants kitchen. You untuck the dagger and hold it tightly in your hand, like a lifeforce in its own as you push through the heavy door that leads to the grounds. The grass is muddy, no doubt from the cold misty rain of the evening, and your boots sink slightly, slowing down your hellpath to the knight.

He immediately spots you, skirts flowing and the same ethereal anger following you as the night he met you and the night he lost you. He halts his horse and waits for you, a smile gracing tight lips despite the snarl he sees on your own face. You stop several feet away from him, the man you visit every night in your dreams but  haunts your waking thoughts.

“Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach,” you address him with his full name, commanding attention you've already won.

“At your command, my lady.”

[imnotwolverine]

The Last Wish

Geralt of Rivia drabble

Listen to: Vaughan Williams - The Lark Ascending

Author’s note: I finished the Witcher 3 and now I feel both happy..and sad. So have some sad fluff on this dreary Sunday  ❤️*dreams of living in a vineyard with Geralt* 

Word count: 1.650

‘So what do you want?’

He shrugged at the sorceress, golden eyes slowly fluttering shut. ‘It doesn’t matter what I want, Yen.’

‘Oh come on.’ Her elegant finger poked into his side before she flopped onto his chest, that same finger now tracing over his stubble.

Grinning, a low purr escaped his lips. But he didn’t answer. ‘And you?’

‘Hmm.’ She lowered her head to listen to his slow and steady heartbeat. ‘I want everything.’

—

A bird watched the Witcher as he heard the slow rumble of hooves in the distance, their eyes meeting in shared curiosity. The bird being curious for this strange white haired man that had taken residence just weeks earlier. And the Witcher for the clatter of hooves.

Her tiny head tilted sideways as she studied him better. A sweaty brow, disheveled hair, marred and scarred skin that belied his long and lonely life before he settled down here. Her master now.

‘You gonna help me?’ His low voice asked kindly - for such a large man he seemed gentle enough.

The bird remained a moment longer as her head now tilted the other way.

‘Hmm.’ His lips curled in a careful smile. Perhaps he had just made a friend.  

‘Milord!’

Nope. There she went, off again, like they always do. The voice calling for him circled in the hot wind as he raised to his feet, finding that it was one of his staff members; the skinny man who had kept up this estate before he had arrived. A good man. But he was obviously not used to a lord like Geralt, his nervous eyes flying over Geralt’s soiled clothing and sweaty brow.

‘Eh..there’s a..visitor, my lord.’

‘A visitor?’ The Witcher wiped his brow as he walked back out of the long green rows, shovel in hand.

‘Aherm..Yes.’ The man eyed his lord’s clothing again. ‘..a lady..’

—

I want everything.

—

A lady. Ciri? Triss? Yen? ..Yen…

His calm Witcher-heart jumped with a dizzying mix of hurt and hope. Could it be? Could it be?! Hastily he peeled off his shirt, throwing it in the general direction of the laundry room before he skid up the steps to his rooms.

‘I’ll be a minute.’ He called over his shoulder, the stairs creaking beneath his heavy footfall.  

The stately house was still in dire need of repair, walls brittle and cracks everywhere. But; it was a home. And after long, long years of living in the bitter and gritty conditions of the outdoors, every crumbling wall was more of an opportunity than a problem.

Quickly, the Witcher retrieved some fresh clothing, his rough hands pushing back the loosened strands of hair in his face. Could it be her?

—

‘You are my everything, Yen.’  He whispered, sleep carrying him off after months of insomnia.

—

It had been months, nearly a year, since he had last seen any of them. So, when the hooded figure stepped away from her regal looking horse, Geralt knew none the better who stood here before him.

Could it be her?

‘I like what you’ve done with the place.’ Her sarcastic tongue cut through the silence and thrilled his heart, two violet eyes finding his from behind her richly decorated hood, lips curling into a mischievous smile.

‘Yen.’ He breathed, catching her frame in a perhaps too enthusiastic hug, her mouth letting out a shrill squeak.

For a long moment he just focused on the soft hum of her heart and the scent of lilac and gooseberries. For a moment he had everything, all his wishes fulfilled.

‘Is it okay if I..Geralt! Stop that. If I stay for the night?’ She swatted his arm as a toothy grin stretched on his face.

‘You know you don’t have to ask.’

‘I’m asking you anyways.’ She shrugged, stepping out of the stables and into the sun, her dark tresses dancing in the soft wind, carrying with it that scent. 

—

Everything. 

—

Darkness caressed them, but he couldn’t sleep. His honeyed eyes watched, lingered, burned. Hoped that if he didn’t blink, she wouldn’t leave. But much too soon birds started to twitter and life as usual returned. Without her, probably. They always leave.

‘Morning.’ A dreamy finger caressed his chest before her eyes cracked open. Enchantingly purple in the low light. ‘You look terrible.’

Ever truthful, this sorceress.

Humming, Geralt shifted somewhat, relieving the ache in his sleeping limbs.

‘You didn’t sleep, hmm?’

He shook his head, refusing to address reality just a moment longer, his eyes just watching her. 

The sorceress propped herself up and let that same finger now travel underneath the sheets, following the trail of hair that covered his pale chest. ‘I dreamt of us.’ Her voice was still low and husky.

‘Mmm.’ The Witcher’s tired eyes near skittishly found her gaze, her brows furrowing with a teasing pout.

‘Do you really hate being a lord so much that all you can do is scowl?’ She playfully tilted her head. Like that bird, eyes studying him, while all he did was listen, his ears pricking at the expected sound of horse hooves in the distance. This time not coming, but going, taking with them her. Yen.

But no, she was still here, beneath his fingertips. Just don’t blink, Geralt, don’t blink. 

‘I don’t.’ He finally sighed, wrapping her in his arms once more, detesting the thought of her leaving.  

Without protest her soft form snuggled back into his embrace, her black curls being twirled between his fingers. Her scent enchanted him and her lips peppered a few airy kisses onto his chest. Like she always did. But it wasn’t enough. Never enough. She’d always leave. 

‘You know, I like it here.’ She decided in between soft kisses, her legs now moving to straddle his hip, the sheets sliding down to reveal more olive skin. He burned the beautiful image into his eyes, keeping it locked in his heart, for safe-keeping. 

‘You do?’ Geralt muttered, her lips now travelling up, offering him a soft and gentle kiss. So much unlike her spunky character.

‘Perhaps I could stay a while longer..’ Her voice drifted off as she looked into his eyes, those long fingers of her now brushing aside his hair - even though it wasn’t really in the way.

‘I’d like that.’ The Witcher admitted, a hand catching hers so he could kiss her palm.

‘Hmm.’ It was her moment to turn quiet for a moment, both their eyes just gazing, relearning the shapes and lines of each others’ faces. ‘You know what I dreamt about?’

He shook his head, a slow smile finally crawling back up his lips. She was staying a little while longer.

‘I was a bird, drifting in the winds. Until finally I found a vineyard. A little haunted, but it was nothing a Witcher couldn’t fix.’ Her lips also curled into a smile mimicking his. ‘And then I decided it’d make for a nice place to nest.. Even birds need a home you see.’ They both chuckled. 

‘A nest? With all your clothes? Must’a been a big one.’ The Witcher teased, earning himself a poke to the chest before the sorceress melted back into his chest, his arms wrapping safely around her, keeping her close. ‘And then what happened?’

‘Then I woke up in a vineyard, with a Witcher in my arms.’

‘Lucky man.’

‘Indeed. And I’m a very lucky woman.’ Her long fingers raked a ticklish path up his ribs, making him sniffle. The quiet morning breezed in through the window, the soft twitter of birds reaching their ears.

A new day was here. And at least for today she’d stay. 

Listening to the Witcher’s heartbeat, the sorceress hesitated. ‘I’ve been thinking. Since the djinn was chased off and all...’ The Witcher didn’t respond, though his heart seemed to jump in his chest. 

She continued: ‘I still feel it you know.’

‘The djinn?’

‘Ugh. No you silly!’ She settled back up, ‘Us.’  

—

‘Do you still feel it?’ The Witcher eyed the sorceress, her eyes gazing out over the snow-covered valley, the icy winds spewing around them.

‘Maybe we should..’ She shrugged and eyed him for a moment. ‘..kiss? To see if it’s..different?’

‘We could do that.’ He already settled closer before the words left his mouth.

The abandoned boat atop these mountains made for an unlikely place of romance and first kisses. But the two lovers didn’t care much. With the winds howling and magic crackling, two hesitant pairs of lips tasted change. It was both different, but also the same, their destinies no longer entwined by the force of Djinns. Just simple, unbridled love. 

..Right? 

—

‘You mean that?’ His brows furrowed. 

‘I do, Geralt. And I’m sorry for leaving you after...’ Her voice trailed off for a moment. ‘I would have given you my last wish too you see....Had I owned one.’ She shrugged lightly. Geralt smiled. Oh, she sure had WANTED to have that last wish. It had been a long obsession to get a child of her own someday. The more silly it was that it was the Witcher who had not only taken the Last Wish, but also got to take care of one white haired princess; Ciri. A surprise, indeed. 

Now, with Ciri grown, the Djinn gone and the of them both looking back at well lived lives, one question remained. 

‘So what do you want?’ Her question was the same, but his answer different. The sorceresses hands entangled with his as she smiled down at him and the Witcher smiled back. He had thought of her question often, but life didn’t seemed to offer many re-do’s. Especially in love. The more happy he was that she was here and there was no Djinn to mess with them. Him and Yen. The Witcher and the sorceress. His smile grew. 

‘You.’ 

--

[snarkwriteswrasslin]

FFT: just between you and me; drew mcintyre

Notes:

This is the second part to Drew and Adele’s story. If this seems all over the place that’s because there was a lot of time between the first ask I answered with them and this one and I... was a little lazy in that I did not go back and re-read the first one, I just rolled with whatever came, literally. But he is still an agent here, it’s just not really that noted...

{ wanna send in one of these? here’s how | masterlist of fake fic titles | marionette }

Summary:

Drew decides to truly throw caution to the wind and approach Adele. Things come to light and a situation is had. This is kind of the beginning to their little /relationship/ so to speak.

Pairing:

Drew McIntyre x OFC, Adele

Warnings:

uhhh... none off the top of my head.

Fraternization was frowned upon.

Especially, Drew thought to himself, when the fraternization in question involved the bosses girl.. However, a silly little thing like rules - or her dating his boss for that matter,  hadn’t ever honestly stopped Drew McIntyre before and Drew wasn’t honestly willing to let it start now, either.

He had to have her all to himself. Fuck the rules, fuck the red tape. Fuck the fact that he kind of worked for her boyfriend as an enforcer. Her boyfriend didn’t deserve her, didn’t know how to handle her. Didn’t know what she needed or even liked.

Her boyfriend’s attention was always on making money… Or sneaking around behind her back with any number of bimbos under his employ.

Drew simply couldn’t fucking take it anymore. So tonight, he decided. Something was going to be done. He was going to make his presence known. It was simple really.. He’d seen the way she’d stare at him when she thought no one was watching. And the little accidental brushes against him in the elevator… Or the seeming to appear wherever he happened to be, like two nights ago when she wound up in the gym, watching him train for an upcoming prize fight. That whisper quiet voice she spoke to him with, the way it kept playing back over in his head at night whenever he’d lie down to sleep.

He was long past the point of ignoring the situation in the hopes that it’d resolve itself. Long past pretending not to notice all of the above. Long past pretending to barely notice Adele whenever she was around.

No, he’d made up his mind.

Adele was going to be his.

He caught sight of her walking into the club and the smirk came easily. This time, when her eyes darted around the crowded club, he didn’t busy himself or make it seem as if he didn’t notice. No, this time, when those big brown eyes settled on him, he was leaned casually against the wall staring right back at her.

Her cheeks turned pale pink and when her tongue slowly rolled over her lips, he chuckled and rubbed his chin.

He saw the widening of her eyes when he dared to wink at her. Before he could even think about making his way over, his boss was beside him, nudging.

“I need you to do somethin for me.”

“Wot?” Drew’s tone may or may not have come out impatient and irritated, then again, the guy did have the worst sense of timing ever and he always had. Drew tore his gaze off of where Adele had been standing seconds ago and fixed them on his boss. “Wot do yah want?”

“I’ve got a little private party goin on up on the fourth floor. Adele insisted on comin tonight. I need you to keep her busy. Whatever you’ve gotta do. She just doesn’t need to come up to the fourth floor. Are we clear?”

�� Just say it’s an orgy and bloody go… Drew resisted the urge to say the words aloud, but then it hit him.. This was it, this was his shot.

This had to be a sign.

When Drew smirked and chuckled and made a remark about his boss’s plans for the night, his boss glared and repeated himself, rolling his eyes and wandering away to find the three women he’d most likely be taking up to the fourth floor.

Drew watched impatiently, waiting on his boss to make a hasty retreat and almost the second he had, Drew started to search the crowd of club goers for Adele. He spotted her over by the bar, staring out at the crowded dance floor wistfully.

He made his way over, sitting on the stool beside the one she had her back turned to and he leaned in, boldly grazing his mouth right against the outer edge of her ear.

Adele jumped, barely restrained a whimper she felt at the sudden contact of rough lips against her ear. She turned, tearing her eyes off the dance floor.

Just like she thought, the second they arrived earlier, her boyfriend immediately excused himself.

… you know what he’s doing… and you know that two can play at that game… so why not do what you want to do, what you’ve been wanting to do for weeks now, hmm?… the thought came and for once, Adele didn’t bother shoving it out of her head.

She was getting more than a little sick of being ignored, pushed aside for the club or his side chicks or his shady business deals made in dark alleys. She was getting sick of excuses and empty promises and having to rely on her battery powered best friend and every little run in with Drew McIntyre she’d ever had since the man started to work for her boyfriend to get her through lonely nights whenever her boyfriend was out God only knew where.

It was her turn to have a little fun.

She turned to face Drew and swallowed hard at the look in his eyes. He was staring at her with this intense look. He leaned in, reaching out, taking the beer he’d just ordered. He took a long pull from the bottle, not breaking his gaze once. “Yer boyfriend assigned me to yah.”

The tone in his voice, all rumbly and low and gravelly.. It had her clenching her thighs and barely managing not to whimper in response, especially when coupled with him leaning in closer, chuckling right in her ear as he lazily trailed long thick digits over her bare arms, tracing designs into her skin. She swallowed hard and finally, after about two or three seconds, she managed a passably intelligent response.

“That sounds about right.” Adele sighed and shook her head. She didn’t even feel as upset as she used to by her boyfriend’s antics anymore. If she weren’t afraid of what he might do, she’d most likely leave.

“He doesn’t realize ‘at’s th’ exact thing ah wanted ‘im t’ do.” Drew said it boldly and as calm as could be. Inside, he was anything but. His thoughts ranged from just getting her out on the dance floor, that petite little body of hers pressing -no rubbing, right against him… To sneaking her out the back way, lifting her up and pinning her against the wall as he slipped his hand up the bottom of her dress, rubbing and squeezing her cunt.

She licked her lips and Drew nearly lost his cool and his focus, but to look at the man, you’d never tell.

His admission shocked her to say the least. And under that intense gaze, she felt her legs turning to rubber and her thighs getting so slippery that crossing her legs only made them slip off of each other. The way he kept staring at her… If she had to compare it to anything, it’d be the way one looked at a present they were anxiously waiting to unwrap.

She couldn’t recall a time ever that she’d been looked at like that. The thought had her swallowing hard again and struggling to hold his gaze -and not fidget while doing it. The air between them was so thick it absolutely crackled with unspoken tension.. Sweltering heat.

He raised the bottle to his lips and took a few more sips, letting his words sink in for her, just to see what she’d do. He chuckled quietly and leaned in, their foreheads touching. “Wot’s ‘a matter? Cat got yer tongue?”

“N-no.” her voice wavered a little and despite her knowing this was not going to go well, her boyfriend could come up and see them at any second, Adele couldn’t resist leaning in closer and mumbling “Not at all. What’s your plan?”

Drew inched in closer. Those rough lips brushed right against her own when he responded, “T’ keep yah so distracted ‘at y’ don’t give a damn about ‘im. Is et workin so far?”

Adele’s breath caught in her throat as her lips brushed against him and she managed to muster the nerve to dart her tongue out and trail it teasingly over the rough surface of his mouth as she answered, “I think so, yeah.”

Drew’s hand gripped her thigh and his other hand gripped the back of her neck as he leaned in and completely closed the distance between their mouths, the hand on the back of her neck tangling in her hair and tugging her mouth greedily against his as deep as possible. The hand on her thigh started to slowly trail upward, underneath the hem of the little black dress and he hissed quietly as his tongue tangled with hers and her hand found it’s way down to the bulge strained against his favorite pair of jeans, rubbing idly. “Already drippin for me. Ah like ‘at.” Drew’s teeth hooked on her lower lip as he practically growled the statement, his hand moving up her thigh, coming to rest palm down over a pair of very soaked silk panties, rubbing her cunt. When she started to rub herself against the flat of his hand, he chuckled, breaking the kiss to breathe. She was rubbing her hand over the growing bulge in his jeans a little faster, more insistently and when she whimpered, the man snapped.

He pulled her into his lap, removing his hand in favor of letting her rub herself against an aching erection. Teeth connected with lip again and he bit down, tugging until he knew her lips were going to be bruised under the weight of his kisses and bites.

Oh, bet your ass… Drew McIntyre wanted to leave his mark behind. He wanted it known what he’d done.

Adele was well past the point of worrying, caring even if they got caught. She rocked against the bulge strained at his jeans and gripped his shirt, pulling herself closer, burying her lips in the skin along the side of his neck. He gripped her body to hold her in place on his lap and bucked into her from below. A quiet groan came as she moaned against his throat, “Get me out of here.”

“Yer sure yah want ta do ‘at?”

“Positive. If he can have his fun, so can I.”

Drew stood, not bothering to untangle Adele from his body and he strode out the door and into the night in search of the nearest remote place.

He was finally going to have her all to himself. Phase one of his little plan had been a success. He couldn’t wait to feel her body pinned beneath his, to tear off the clothes she wore, to leave his marks all over her.

Something deep down told him she couldn’t wait either…

[mobius-prime]

212. Sonic the Hedgehog #144

Mobius 25 Years Later: The Die is Cast

Writer: Ken Penders Pencils: Steven Butler Colors: Jason Jensen

We've finally made it to the final installment of this damned arc! Man, that doesn't seem to leave us a lot of time to solve the main conflict of the world ending, does it…? Well, I suppose we have to read the issue first. Knuckles arrives back home after his visitation to Locke's grave, and tells a delighted Lara-Su that he's rethought his stance on training her as a Guardian and plans to start straightaway - after, of course, his current mission with Sonic. When he makes a vague allusion to asking her mother for help on her instruction if he doesn't come back, Lara-Su tries to insist she come along to help, and Julie-Su, who was listening in, becomes indignant.

Aww, that's actually sweet. I think that's the first time we've seen actual, real affection between any of this arc's married couples. Julie-Su sees Knuckles off to his shuttle, driven by - who else - an elderly Harry, and Sally makes him promise he'll bring her husband back to her. He tries to find Lara-Su for a final goodbye before his mission, but is somewhat baffled to not find her anywhere, assuming she was too angry at not being taken along to stick around. The shuttle flies them out through the worsening storms to the "badlands," a horrifically-polluted section of the planet that's so toxic the group has to wear sealed suits as they traverse the terrain and make their way to Robotnik's old hidden base.

Sonic immediately volunteers himself to go back in time despite the dangers Rotor warns him of, and we cut away to the shuttle for a little surprise - Lara-Su has stowed away in a cargo box, determined to come along and help despite what her father thinks. However, before she can even take a step outside the shuttle, she begins to vanish from reality like that scene from Back to the Future. What could be causing this? Well, back in the base, we might find our answer:

And… that's it! No, seriously, that's literally the end of the arc. No context is given for what we just saw happen. It's not explained if this time travel venture indeed caused the world to end, or if Sonic going back in time erased this timeline in favor of another, or what. This is such an abrupt and unsatisfactory ending that I have to wonder if Kenders was forced to end the story early on short notice, because absolutely nothing is explained here. We spent over a dozen issues building up to something, enduring trite teen drama and old stuffy adults arguing at each other while locked into loveless marriages, and got the most vague and useless ending possible, after all of that. I mean, what was even the point of all this then? Some chapters in this arc had literally no plot or character progression whatsoever! The aversion of the end of time and space was literally the most interesting potential plot hook in this entire arc, and it's basically swept aside in the last few pages with no explanation. This almost makes the actually good writing of last issue seem useless, if this is what came directly afterwards. *sigh* Ah well, we're finally free of this nightmare. And as it turns out, we're very close to the end of Penders as a whole! Those of you who have read the comics before might have noticed that we're rapidly approaching the 160th issue, which is when a certain fan-favorite writer took the reins and started to fix a lot of the messes that the previous writers left him with. So if you're one of the ones who despises everything Penders ever wrote, you don't have much longer to suffer - just a few more issues and we're in the clear!

Love and Loss

Writer: Romy Chacon Pencils: Jon Gray Colors: Josh Ray

This story is a bit of a bizarre one, being very unlike any others we've read so far. There's very little action and a whole lot of solid blocks of text to read, but in a way, I do feel it's interesting and contributes to several characters' arcs in a positive manner. A poor bear is doing his best to sell some newspapers to the denizens of Knothole one Wednesday evening when he suddenly finds himself mobbed by a horde of rabid women all grabbing for a copy.

Now that is quite interesting. No, I don't mean the love advice column - I mean the little signpost in the second panel, the one listing the prices for products at the stand! Now, Jon has a habit of making up things to put on posters and the like in the background of his art, many of which are clearly just meant to be humorous and not to be taken seriously, but this is literally (as far as I can tell) the very first instance we've ever seen of an actual unique currency in this world! "Mobiums", huh? They seem to be kind of equivalent to Japanese yen, in that a single one is barely worth a penny - I mean, I'm pretty sure they're not meant to be like dollars anyway, as $75 for a single comic seems incredibly steep. For now, I suppose we'll have to add "Mobiums" to our list of potentially-canon bits of worldbuilding info about Mobius.

Anyway, as you might expect, several of our favorite girls in this comic have gotten themselves a copy today, and as it turns out, they've all written in their own letters and are eager to see the advice this "Aly" will give them. First up is Bunnie, who writes in under the pseudonym "Feeling Terribly Alone." Obviously, her main problem is with Antoine. She details how they've grown apart and how she feels like she doesn't even know him anymore - and yet, despite all their recent difficulties, she's still in love with him and wishes things could go back to the way they used to be.

Poor Bunnie. One of the things that seems to crop up for her now and again is her well-hidden insecurities about her cyborg nature. From her recurring nightmares, to her concern over the idea of Antoine still being able to be attracted to her despite her robotic parts, it's clear that she struggles a lot more with her nature than she lets on, and her relationship with Antoine boosted her confidence immensely. They were clearly happy together, and just as they were getting past the honeymoon phase and settling into a more steady relationship, he became cold towards her without a clear explanation as to why. It's clearly broken her heart at a time when she desperately needs to be able to hold it together, and the idea of her sitting in her house at night, alone and sobbing to herself uncontrollably, is really sad.

Next up is Mina, AKA "Singing the Blues." Her letter discusses how lately she's feeling torn between old crushes and new relationships. Her new boyfriend, Ash, was briefly shown in StH#134, but apparently they've grown quite close in the year that Sonic was gone. However, with Sonic back, Mina has been feeling the old familiar butterflies around him, and questions whether she truly loves Ash in the same way she cares for Sonic. (Obviously, however, in the usual vein of these kinds of ask columns, everything she says is vague, not mentioning any names.) Aly's letter advises her to not give up on a current happy relationship to chase someone else who may not even be interested, and Mina appears to genuinely take this to heart, deciding to give her boyfriend a call despite the late hour.

Well, good for her! Mina's a sweetheart, and it does seem like she and Ash genuinely care for each other. The third letter comes from Amy, or "Wishing for Love," who lays out her crush on Sonic and how she's tried to get his attention here and there, including going so far as to "look and dress older" (bit of an understatement there, Ames) to catch his eye. However, she's frustrated that she can't seem to gain his affections, and wants Aly's opinion on whether she really is putting too much effort into a silly crush, or whether she actually has a chance. Aly begins by tactfully pointing out that it sounds like she's still young, and it's not a good idea to rush into love too quickly when there's so much more life ahead.

…yeah, that's about what I'd expect from Amy. After all, remember that despite her physical age, she still mentally skipped half her childhood up to this moment, and she's also the hopeless romantic type, so it's not surprising she'd be unimpressed by advice telling her to look away from her crush. The article appears to be winding down, but everyone reading is struck by what they see in the last entry, from someone called "Royally Scared." The writer dives into her story, about her deepest love and how they made a commitment to each other only for her love to be "lost," which broke her heart. When he came back, she tried to get him to walk away from his "job" for a better job in her family's "business," but he refused and they had an ugly break-up as a result. She still loves him, but she's too scared of losing him again, especially because he's so brash and throws himself into danger without a care.

Everyone immediately realizes that this is Sally's letter, and are riveted to the page for Aly's response. Aly admits that she doesn't have a solid answer for this one, but says that it seems like they both have valid points. She points out that Sally's "dramatic confrontation" might not have been very fair to her lover, and urges them to both talk it out like adults after they take some time apart to reevaluate their own priorities, before wishing her luck and concluding the article. I just want to point out that the entire section where she lays it out and Aly responds is masterfully put together, with the heart-filled background slowly transitioning to a deep, tangled mass of purple and black as the letter goes on, interspersed with silhouettes of Sally crying and looking very alone in a dark void. I've pointed it out before, but Sally was very clearly traumatized - badly - by everything she's been through, with Sonic's supposed death being a breaking point for her, and the backgrounds of this issue symbolize this struggle very effectively. But here comes the real twist. After all, "Aly" is clearly a pseudonym, and no one knows who's really running this column. So who do you suppose it is?

God damn. Even in the middle of dealing with severe PTSD, Sally's still got a damn good head on her shoulders. It seems that people were starting to suspect her as the writer, so she deliberately wrote in a letter that was obviously her, and then answered it herself to throw readers off the scent. And her answer to herself was well thought out and reasonable - it's clear that she wrote her entry letter first, then forced herself to take a step back and evaluate her situation as though she were a third party who didn't know any of the finer details. The result is a response that doesn't betray her true identity, and isn't obviously colored by her own biases, where she gets a chance to look at her situation with a clearer head (probably helped out substantially by Nicole as an outside perspective). She flat-out acknowledges that her own actions on the stage the night of Sonic's welcome home party were unreasonable and unfair to him, and calls herself out on it in a public newsletter (even if most people aren't aware of the circumstances behind this entry). I feel like this only supports what I said about The Slap several issues ago, that she wasn't acting rationally that night and needs to be cut some slack on account of her (now-canonically-acknowledged) trauma. And in the end, her Aly persona is right. While she and Sonic still love each other, their differences have made a stable relationship between the two currently impossible, meaning it's best for them to take that time apart to figure out what each of them want before they think about getting back together. I think this is a really good follow-up to what happened in that issue, and gives a lot more insight into just why Sally did what she did, and how she's handling it after the fact.

This issue ends with a single page reminiscent of the Sega Data Files of issues past, this time covering the entire Acorn Royal Family. There's not much info here that we don't already know, but we do find out that Elias and his wife Megan's child has been born by now, a daughter named Alexis. Hope we get to see them all again soon!

[pan-roses]

A Royal Mess Up {Moxiety/Logince}

Chapter 4 

First/ Previous/ Next

_____

Logan had woken up rather suddenly as a chill was sent down his spine from the cold weather. When did it get his cold? Last he remembered, it was a just a tad over a chill, but nothing the warrant a wind such as this. Then again, Logan did feel different. He was lighter, not that he was heavy, to begin with, being a small eater and such, but his current weight felt quite off. He also felt rather small in size, which was concerning, considering he was the tallest of the group. He took a longing glance at his body before remembering all that happened previously beforehand with the mysterious person. They seemed to have cast a spell on Logan that turned him into a raven. While concerned for his health on the matter of his current state, he wasn't that unsettled by the choice of animal he was cursed with. They were very capable flyers with great awareness and integrity. Not to mention his own intelligence boosted his survival. A raven was a perfect choice for Logan, although foolish of the mysterious figure, then again, he would rather be a bird then a measly worm anything could step on and kill if they were to miss his presence.

Taking a look at his surroundings, he gathered he was in a tree, perched upon a branch that overlooked a fair bit of the area. The woods hadn't changed from the state they were in previously, the unsettling view being taken in as Logan began to make a mental map the area. Time could not be wasted trying to navigate this horrid place, so the more he knew his way around, the better for himself and his friends, should he even find that. Speaking of which, that is to be his main purpose. Though he would like the escape this place and its many unknown dangers, it wouldn't sit right with Logan to abandon his friends, after all, they were all he had left...

_______

Logan's life was what one would call pleasant and lived with ease. He was born into a family of nobility, so money wasn't ever an issue he had to be burdened with. He was raised with the highest education offered and was the highest ranked of his classes in every subject, enough so to skip grades at a time and is one of the youngest to enter college, he was fourteen. At sixteen, he was given a position at the royal castle as an advisor to the Prince, who was a year younger and needed some guidance and discipline. Logan's family was always close to the royal family, however, he never met the young Prince, so he accepted. He wasn't surprised when he found out Thomas was a bit of dreamer and a slacker when it came to any responsibility, so he made a note to teach him such skills, they are important.

Logan stood in front of Thomas, age fifteen, who currently was writing in a notebook about fantasy nonsense, something he was warned of prior to his meeting with Thomas. "Greetings, young Prince Thomas ||. I am Logan, you new royal advisor, as so instructed by your father, the King. My job is to teach you social and educational discipline, as well as to plan and maintain your schedule and responsibilities in order for you to become a wise King for this kingdom and its residents. Now, before I start listing how I teach, any questions or major things important to yourself I should know, young Prince?"

Thomas looked up from his writings, with a charming smile and a glint of wonder in his eyes, something that didn't go unnoticed by Logan. "Uh, well, first thing is that you don't need to be so formal with me."

"Why is that?" Logan questioned. "The idea of such a reality is absurd, seeing as you a royalty and should be treated as such, your majesty."

Thomas sighed and placed his book down on the bed beside him and stood up. He was shorter than Logan, however not considerably so, being average height while Logan was always tall for his age at 6'0. Thomas walked around the bed and sat at the foot, where Logan stood just a few feet away from. "Logan, what am I?"

"A human, your majesty."

"Yes, and what are you?"

"Also a human, your majesty."

"And what of a villager walking down the street? What are they?"

"Human, your maj--" Logan couldn't finish, as he was interrupted by Thomas.

"So if all of us are human, please treat me as one too?" Thomas asked. "We all are human, and I understand that I am a Prince, but please, when it's just us, like this, allow me to be a human, not a prince."

Logan gave a puzzled expression to Thomas' request. "I'm sorry, but I seem to be confused. Are you stating that you are not human?" Thomas paused for a moment, taking in what Logan had just asked before easing into a chuckle that turned into a full laugh. "I am confused, did I say something that was a topic of humour?"

"N-No, no, you're fine." Thomas composed himself, letting out a small giggle here and there. "I was talking figuratively before. I meant for you to treat me like you would anyone else instead of a Prince when it's just us if you wouldn't mind?"

Logan thought. It was strange to him. That wasn't how he was taught to treat a member of the royal family, but if his royal Prince so requested, then he shall abide.

And so, a relationship was made between the two. While doing business, they treated each other like Prince and Advisor, but when alone, they were just people. Logan took some time getting used to the idea, but he adjusted well. Then Roman, Patton, and Virgil were introduced into the mix a year later, throwing him off balance with the silliness of Pat and Thomas and the unneeded childish remarks between Virgil and Roman. However, it was a comfortable shift he was fine with. And life seemed well.

Until it wasn't.

People underestimate what fire has the power to do until it hurts those you love in the worst ways. And for Logan, he would never forget the day Roman rushed into the room, huffing and panting from his run as he explained the unfortunate situation of his parents home. It was caught on fire by a candle that had fallen over near a curtain. They didn't even realize till it was too late to escape. His parents and grandparents all lived there together. They all died, his parents by each other's sides and his grandparents were as close as they could've been... a mere foot away... and his home was turned to dust, every memory all left to Logan to keep safe and pass on.

Logan was unsure of how to feel. He couldn't imagine a life without his family, especially at this age. He felt like the air that lingered still, with no wind to push him along, his body numb with the memories of his past, the terror of the present, and the unknown of his future without his loved ones.

And Logan is undoubtedly sure he wouldn't be standing here today if it weren't for Patton, Roman, Virgil, and Thomas. For Roman, who gave him an escape from reality. To Virgil, who shared his struggles to make him feel less alone. And Patton, who reminded his feelings are valid and that he was loved. And for Thomas, who reminded him that he was human.

He had a home because of them. He has a family because they cared enough to remind him they were never gone and they are always by his side.

And he is forever grateful to them. _____

Logan, deciding that he should scope and map more the forest, decides it's best to move around via flight. He was unsure of how smoothly this would go over, but it is the best mode of transport to him at the current moment. So, shaking his wings for the first time, something he noted at a foreign feel, he spread his wings to take off.

Taking a breath, he made a leap.

And he flew.

Then fell, hard into the soil.

Logan groaned. "Well, that was expected..." He muttered to himself. "Perhaps on foot would be best... Would be a set back if I were to injure myself in this state."

So he took off on walking, heading in no particular direction. He wandered, taking in odd things in nature as a guide to help map it out. He took notice to a river that was rather large through the middle of a thicket and so forth. It was odd to see, as there were no other signs of a waterfall form what he had seen, although he had just happened to find himself the lake, so it was too early to call anything odd.

He walked closer, in need of a drink to replenish himself. The water was as clear as the sky, not a single blemish of any sort of bug or anything dangerous.

Well aside from a dead body floating down the river, face upright as it floated peacefully.

Or maybe it wasn't dead as they seemed to be humming a little tune on their travel through the water, allowing it to guide it wherever it seemed fit.

Wait...

"That voice..." Logan muttered to himself.  "It couldn't be."

As they got closer, it was unmistakable to Logan as he witnessed Roman float down the river without a care in the world to him. His armour was still on, weapon in its holster, and red cape still intact. His personality, judging by the song he was humming, seemed just as annoying as before to Logan. However, he did find it odd that wasn't on a search for the others as he was. He must investigate this further.  

Attempting at his best, he horribly and wobbly flew himself over to Roman, landing on his chest with little grace. Roman noticed and tilted his head up to face what seemed to be an ordinary bird. "Why, hello there little bird. What brings you here, did my beautiful singing voice attracts you?" He asked, full of himself as always.

"Hello, Roman. To answer your question, it most certainly did not attract me here."

"Oh, then-- wait, what?!" Freaked out by the realization a raven was speaking to him, Roman ended up flipping himself under water, bringing Logan with him.

He resurfaced quickly, as did Logan, who wasn't happy about being soaked. "Was that necessary, Roman?"

"I think it was rather expected given the fact you are a talking bird! I thought that was only in myths! Although, this day wasn't what I'd call normal in any sort of way..." Roman gave a saddened look that Logan didn't enjoy seeing on his face, it was unnatural to his usual charming looks. "You see, my friends... I failed them, horribly so. One by one, they all disappeared I couldn't do anything but watch and weep as they did, and when it came down to it, I couldn't even kill the one who caused it... I've failed as a protector, but more importantly, I failed as a friend... So here I lay, in a river, floating away from them... they'll be safer if I'm not with the-- Ow, ow! What are you doing!"

Logan had started pecking Roman, getting fed up with his useless complaining. He knew it wasn't Roman's fault, and he was sure the others thought the same. "Roman, enough, stop complaining like this. You are a fool if you think that we blame you."

"We?" Roman questioned.

"Yes, I am _____."

"Uh... who?"

"I said, I am _____."

"Yeah, you aren't saying anything. Do you not have a name?" Roman asked. "I could give you one. I'll call you... Flyer Mcflyson! Sound good?"

Logan would've facepalmed if he could've. "No- that's- I'm not- I have..., you are such an idiot sometimes..."

"How could you know that you have barely known me ten minutes!" Roman glared. "You sound just like Logan, jeez..."

"That's cause _ __!" He yelled to no avail. Darn, that clever spell.

"Cause what?"

Think, Logan, think. You need to call yourself something to avoid that foolish name and have a proper conversation with this imbecile.

"Call me Logos."

"Logos? Strange name... But I like it!" Roman, at this point, had swum to the edge of the river and out of it, sitting on the edge. He gave a charming smile, one Logan was used to seeing daily. "I'm Roman. It's a pleasure!"

This is going to be a long day for Logan.

~*~*~*~*~

Taglist:  @romanasanders @daughterofsomnus @amazinglissawho @entitydark @lamp-calm-sanders @combine-the-kitchens @anxiously-unsatisfied-world @waywordwriter @youtoo7481 @residentanchor

[coffee-for-himchan]

sneeze | jongup

Word count: 2.1 k+

Genre/warnings: fluff ❤

Summary: Maybe being sick wasn’t even that bad.. At least when you had the right person to take care of you around at all times.

(A/N) Long ago (and I mean “Long” with a capital “L”), this was requested by @kittenburps. Dear, I’m sorry I never posted it back then - I started typing on it but never finished, and now that I dug that draft up accidentally, I decided it would only be fair to give it another go.

It was all too good to be true.

Two days ago still seemed like a dreamy night - probably because it was one. The air was chilly, yet not chilly enough to be considered cold. Streets weren’t full, weren’t too empty either, just enough for you two to have some privacy and to feel alone together. It was cliche, but every bit of it was lovable and perfect - the simultaneously placed footsteps on the pavement, the warmth your intertwined hands provided each other, the smiles directed up at the stars and the tiny bits of conversation going back and forth. All too good to be true, yet it was there that night, and in the fears of letting the moment slip even though you did not want to do that at all, you held onto it extra tightly.

So when the rain started falling from the sky - slowly and mildly at first, until it started straight up pouring down onto your heads - you told him it was nothing. His hand was warm, so were his smiles, and as long as he did not shiver or squeal from the occasional raindrops hitting the nape of his neck, you were alright with getting soaked. And that’s how your night continued - through rain, through puddles, a few of which you occasionally managed to stumble into, and through chuckles at how easy it was to get used to the teeny tiny drops of water landing everywhere on you. How easy it was to forget about the world all around you when you were with the right person. It was nice, he was there, and you did not want to let anything to waste. Everything was like a fairy tale.

Until the next morning, when you woke up with a sneeze.

*

“Hm?”

“Jongup-ah,” Himchan’s voice rang through the phone, making the younger let out another hum in response. It was a hard task to balance two mugs and a phone in his hands, but he was a professional. Not at balancing though, but balance was something his professionalism also revolved around quite a lot, so like the true grace itself that he was on quite a few occasions, he continued going on with his task.

“Me and Youngjae are leaving without you then, right?”

“Yeah,” Jongup mumbled in response, setting the two mugs down on the counter in front of him. Professionally.

“I’m staying at (Y/N)’s today. Probably going to be here for the night as well.”

“How is (Y/N) actually? Feeling any better?” Himchan questioned, and in the background, a crashing noise could be heard. Then Youngjae shouting bloody murder. Then Himchan nagging at Youngjae for shouting bloody murder. Then Youngjae apologizing for shouting bloody murder. Jongup could already picture the grimace that Himchan’s face had scrunched up into now, something among the lines of “I’m so done with this”, but he dismissed it as the usual and focused on what to answer with instead. All of these things happening on the other end of the line now were nothing new anyways.

“Well, there’s clear progress. The sneeze count has now went down by one or two every other hour, but otherwise nothing’s changed too much-”

“Jongup, you do know how to actually take care of a sick person?”

Hell, who did Himchan think he was!? He sure knew what he was doing, and was helping around like there was no tomorrow. Even now, he was in the kitchen, pacing around, waiting for the water in the kettle to boil, and what for? To make hot chocolate. To take care of you that way. Yeah, he was sure he knew what he was doing. He was taking care of you properly.

“You don’t just brew a person who’s sick hot chocolate and use it as an all-mighty curing elixir or something-”

“Hey!” Jongup said, surprised by both, the audacity of his own voice and the fact that Himchan knew exactly what Jongup was doing without even being present. He knew him too well. Maybe it was time to move out already.

“It heals you emotionally, okay? And before physical healing, you need to feel happy and stuff-”

“Oh my god, I should probably come by sometime if I still want to see (Y/N) alive and well after all of this,” Himchan probably rolled his eyes on the other end of the line as he said this quietly, as if actually contemplating on coming. Actually, Jongup was sure he had even heard the eye roll, and felt the need to use his own eye roll in defense to all this. His were better, by the way - much more sassy, and the fact that they were a rarer occurrence only added to their effects and charm. He rolled his eyes twice for this. Just because he could. 

“Joke’s aside, I will handle this like a man,” he said, trying to make his tone sound somewhat sarcastic but also convincing and stone-solid as he heard Himchan chuckling at the latter part of his statement, “I’m twenty-something, come on. I’ve lived life enough at this point to know. I know how to handle a sneeze or two.”

“I hope you do,” Himchan’s voice proved some partial defeat, and to that, Jongup smiled a little.

“If in question though, call me.”

Pff, as if that would happen. Jongup mumbled a quiet “okay~” and finally hung up the phone, adding a bit of sugar to the hot chocolate. Life has to be sweet, especially at hard times like this. He himself tried to be extra sweet now, and wanted his hot chocolate to be extra sweet too. Just for your liking.

From one perspective, Himchan’s inviting offer of help seemed like a safety blanket. Jongup could rely on him, yes, but question is, did he really want to do that? He wanted to be all independent on this. He just wanted to be nice and useful, all completely on his own. And he would try his best to do so.

Sneeze.

“Bless you~”

You smiled quietly at the calm voice coming from the doorway, and peaking out from under your bunch of blankets, you saw Jongup strolling across the room and into your direction. Hair messy yet somehow charming, his clothes big and loose enough to be classified as a tent and his squint mildly present as he tried to identify your face in between all these pillows and blankets. Gosh was he cute.

“Although, isn’t my presence blessing enough?~~”

“Moon, don’t be overly-confident with your charms,” you chuckled, sitting up in bed and smiling as you watched him putting the two mugs he carried down on the bedside table and sitting down in bed beside you, “Although, I have to admit, that was pretty silly but sweet.”

“Glad to know it worked,” his cheeks tinted a light shade of oink and his stare trailed away from yours, as it usually did at such occasions. He was still a bit shy in his ways when it came to displaying open, unhidden affection.

“Is that hot chocolate?”

“Mhmm,” he nodded lightly, looking over at the two mugs, “Extra warm, extra sweet.”

“I guess extra warm is what I really need right now-”

You were cut off by another sneeze. And then another.

Your eyes teared up a little after the frequent sneezing, and though your mildly teary, half-open lids you saw Jongup throwing you a worried glance. His mouth opened once to tell you something, then it closed all of a sudden instead. He re-thought whatever he wanted to say, and then finally spoke.

“I guess we need something more than a simple "bless you” to stop you from sneezing like that all the time.“

Within a second or so - at least it was quick enough for you not to even be able to question him - he placed the tiniest kiss there could be on the top of your head and was gone with the wind, taking along all his inviting aura. With a mild pout, you furrowed your brows and were about to fall back on the bed, give up on your tired body and let mild sleep and grumpiness consume you until the rather faint smell of hot chocolate hit your nose again, and you smiled, leaning back up to wrap your hands around the mug and take a sip, careful not to spill the contents.

His care had always come in little, subtle, silly ways, and it had always been sweeter than this or any other chocolaty beverage.

He was back with what seemed like an army of attributes, nose and cough drops and tissue boxes included. You were made to stay sat up like that and watch as he fiddled the bottles and boxes in his fingers, eventually with a little bit of help figuring what would be of use and what not so much. His aim was just to make it a little easier for you, really, but he found it hard to watch you forcing your smiles and shivering lightly every little moment the blanket was moved a little bit more off of your frame. He hated seeing you this lowkey miserable and weak. He just wanted you to be as happy and lively as you usually were.

Despite you telling him to move somewhere else since you were most definitely contagious, he did not obey. His defense was that he was as stubborn as it could get often at the least convenient of times, and you wouldn’t be able to change his plans anyways. If he wanted to stay around, he would. You had nothing other left to do than to agree on this. Not that you minded. Spending time with him under any circumstances always resulted in fun.

*

By the end of the week that you mostly spent in bed watching movies or playing games with your favorite person in the world, you were feeling much better.

“I’m glad to hear,” Himchan’s voice rang through your phone as you thanked him for checking on you and reassured him that you were feeling much better than just a day or two ago, “I was just worried about the competence of your, ahem.. Care taker.”

You chuckled a little, thinking back on the week. In your memory, it wasn’t all that miserable - most of it just resembled a long slumber party, with you and Jongup constantly staying in bed, watching movies, playing games, chatting. His presence really did a lot on it’s own - it lifted your spirits and once you felt good emotionally, all of the physical pain and discomfort was easier to handle.

“Oh no, he’s a lovely expert, and has been a big help during the whole process, so cut him some slack.”

Himchan sighed, but it wasn’t a bad sigh. More like one of those “proud parent” sighs, as if he’d been the one to nag at Jongup to do this and that the whole time. Maybe he did, who knows. You didn’t question him that much longer, and after another minute or two talking, hung up the phone.

Sneeze.

You slowly turned around, inspecting Jongup who was sitting at the kitchen table and was casually browsing on his phone with a mug of tea in hand. Had been casually browsing on his phone. The sneeze set him off and made him furrow his brows in confusion.

“Moon Jongup,” you quietly called out. Oh no, full name - that meant trouble - he thought as he slowly turned to you and let out a questioning sound.

“What did I tell you about me being contagious?”

“The truth, I guess-” he sneezed again, this time so that his eyes teared up a little, and he had to wipe them with the sleeve of his shirt.

“Maybe it’s an allergy though, how can you know?” he asked all innocently as you chuckled and walked up to him, enveloping him in sort of a hug from behind.

“What are you allergic to then?”

“Consequence.”

This made you spurt out a louder laugh, and you rolled your eyes at him playfully. Twice, just because you could.

“Well, let’s hope it’s that, but in case you do get sick.. For one, I told you to stay away,” you kissed the top of his head and nuzzled your face into his hair, to which he responded positively, “And for two, I’ll take good care of you~”

“Never have I doubted anything less than this.”

[starspatter]

Heroes and Thieves, Ch. 7

Title: Heroes and Thieves Fandom/Universe: BTAS, pre/post-RotJ flashback

Summary: A story about second chances, healing, and having hope.

Rating: PG-13, for references to character death, child psychological torture and trauma.

Genre: Romance/Family/Friendship/Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 2,067 Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Also on ff.net and AO3.

Well time has a way of throwing it all in your face The past, she is haunted, the future is laced Heartbreak, you know, drives a big black car Swear I was in the back seat, just minding my own

-Gregory Alan Isakov, "Big Black Car"

Now.

“The Bat Signal is not a toy, Ms. Brown.”

Startled, Stephanie swerved around at the sudden emergence of a man swathed in black from the shadows, cloak whipping wordlessly in the wind.  She hadn’t even heard him arrive on the rooftop.

How does he do that?

“You know my name?”

She asked, flustered.

“I make it my business to know.  You’re Stephanie Brown, daughter of Crystal and Arthur Brown, a.k.a. Cluemaster. …Tim Drake’s girlfriend.”

Stephanie blinked, sighing before lowering her mantle and removing the guise’s (apparently ineffectual) inner layer, letting luminescent locks fall free around her shoulders.  (Reasoning that if the cops hadn’t come up to bust her by now, then it seemed rather unlikely they’d show up anytime soon.)  …Wish I knew what the heck to do with my hair under this thing, she thought idly as she combed her hand through the tangles.  Maybe I should try putting it in a ponytail or something.

“Then you probably know why I called you here then.  Sorry about the theatrics,” she gestured towards the spotlight, “But I figured this was the fastest way to get your attention.”

“Tim told you about our history together.”

“Some of it.  He wouldn’t tell me why you two split up.”

There was a palpable beat.

“If he didn’t see fit to explain, then it’s not my place to intervene.”

“Please, Mr. Wayne.”  Those crescent slits narrowed at equally intimate address.  “I think I deserve to know at this point.”

“This isn’t any of your business, Ms. Brown.  I suggest you go home, and get rid of that silly costume.”

Like yours is any less ridiculous.

“This isn’t a game.  Quit before you get yourself into trouble.”

Holy déjà vu.

She crossed her arms frankly, standing firm.

“Tim said the same thing.  I’m getting real sick and tired of hearing it.”

“He’s right.  The streets are far too risky, especially for someone like you.”  There was a rough rigor to his tenor; like a razor blade scraping severely against the grain, incisive and insistent.  Deliberately rubbing salt and steel into the wound until it irritated. “I’ve seen how you operate: rash, reckless, impulsive, impetuous – not thinking before you act.  You might believe you’re being brave – that you’re endeavoring to prove something by jumping directly into danger, putting yourself in the constant thick of threats – but you’re just behaving brashly like a child. A person of your kind doesn’t belong in this field.”

Stephanie bristled at the blunt onslaught, blue irises burning boldly defiant.

“You don’t understand: My dad was supposed to be dead, and now he shows back up again in Gotham like nothing happened – except now he’s committing crimes without even leaving clues.  I couldn’t just stand aside and let him get away with it.  I had to do something.  After all, I’ve got a stake in this.”

Batman made a smothered sound, like a pained grunt – as if someone had just punched him in the gut.

“You sound just like he did.  All you stupid kids, don’t know what you’re getting into.”

“I know that without me you wouldn’t have been able to figure out the next place my father was planning to hit.”

Admit it, that “chopping mall” clue was a stroke of genius.

“And your assistance in bringing him down during the heist is appreciated. But this ends tonight.  You should leave the crimefighting to trained professionals.”

“I just wanted to help…”

Batman took a step forward, looming ominously over her.  His voice was dangerous.

“You don’t know what you want.  None of you ever did.”

Despite the fierce menace in his tone, she staunchly stood her ground, eyes stubborn and challenging as she declined to back down.  Her opponent carried on lecturing:

“You’ve accomplished your mission; succeeded in putting your father in jail.  Now that you’ve gotten your revenge, there’s no more reason for you to continue this fight anymore.  I suppose you’re just doing this now for fun, for the thrill.  Because you think it’s ‘cool’.”

Stephanie clenched her fists.  He had struck a chord, but she didn’t take kindly to being patronized either, her entire motivations being put down, brushed aside just like that.

“That’s not the only reason.  I mean, yeah this just kinda started out as a goof to get back at my dad of course, and sure I’ll confess I do get a kick out of the rush – but there’s more to it than that. I may not be all that smart or skilled at… anything really.  But this – this is something I can do to help others.  People in need.  For the first time in my life, it feels like I’m really doing something worthwhile, that I’m doing some good.  Like I’m making a real difference.  I’m doing this… I don’t know.  Not even for me.”  She turned towards the skyline, surveying over the (for the moment at least) peacefully sleeping city, lights reflecting above and below.  “I’m doing this for all of them.”

Batman stared at her.

“Regardless, this isn’t your responsibility.”

“And it’s supposed to be solely yours?  You’re just one man in a batsuit, you’re not in charge of this town.  You may be able to handle all the crimes within the city limits, but the suburbs don’t have anyone.  Not even you can be everywhere at once. Hell, no one can carry the weight of the world by himself.”

“This is a vow I took on my own shoulder’s, no one else’s.  I work alone.”

“If you really thought that, why’d you agree to take an apprentice on in the first place?”

While visibly there was no noticeable wince, another wounded growl escaped from the cowl.

“That was a mistake.”

“Oh really?  I’ve seen how you operate: Ever since you’ve gone partnerless, you’ve been colder, harsher, overly aggressive, and more unforgiving than ever before.  Everyone’s noticed; it’s been all over news reports everywhere, criminals claiming to be the ‘victims’ of vigilante violence. All the tabloids assume you’ve gone off the deep end, that you’ve finally cracked – or that you were off your rocker all along.  That’s why they say even the police won’t cooperate with you anymore.”  She looked towards the tarp lying on the ground, which had been covering the searchlight up to now.  Lucky for her they hadn’t removed the apparatus entirely.  “You accuse me of being hotheaded, but I could say the exact same of you.  Heck, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you seem to have some sort of death wish.”

“How I conduct myself is none of your concern.”

“It is when there are people suffering for it.  Tim included.  The truth is Batman needs a Robin, doesn’t he?  Since your parents died, you need – want company.  Otherwise you’ll go crazy, doing what you do all the time.  Anyone would.”

Way to play psychoanalyst with the most famous and powerful – not to mention richest – man in Gotham, girl.

Batman held her undeterred gaze.

“…You really do sound just like him.”

Grudgingly, he gruffly acknowledged the comparison – though it wasn’t quite a concession.

Still, Stephanie seized on the opening.

“Seriously, just what the hell happened?  You two used to be such a great team.  You guys were a legend, the ‘Dynamic Duo’ and all that.  Nightwing and Batgirl too, whatever happened to them?”

His answer was aggravatingly simple.

“Things change.”

Why do I get the feeling I’ve heard that somewhere before?

She exhaled in exasperation, sensing the discussion was going in circles. She wasn’t about to allow such curt tautology cut her off though.

“You used to mean something to people.  This,” she pointed purposefully at the symbol in the sky, before jabbing at the mirrored center of his chest, “…used to mean something.  Sure, you could be scary sometimes, but it was clear that you cared.  Now, it’s like all the lives you save don’t even matter anymore.  All that exists in your mind – or your heart, whatever’s left of it – that is, assuming you even still have one – is darkness and dread.  Am I wrong?”

Her assertive allegation was met with stony silence.  Tentatively, she tried to uplift the weight on the conversation somewhat.

“Not everything has to be about fear.  There’s room in our line of work for hope too, you know.”

Again, he merely remained mute, scrutiny slanting into the distance.

All right, fine.  Don’t answer me.

Growing annoyed by such obstinate reticence (which she recognized all too well at this point; it was no wonder where her boyfriend got it from) and desperate for some sort of reaction, she attempted to return again to the original topic – her whole goal for summoning this guy’s big broody butt in the first place.

“Look, I’m sure you’re as aware as I am this isn’t just about me trying to barge in on your territory – your private little crusade – is it?  I don’t mean to pry open old wounds just for the sake of sating my curiosity either.  Something obviously happened between you two – something that changed him – that changed the both of you – and I need to know what in order to get through to him.”  She placed a palm on her breast, clutching and curling fretful fingers against cloth as she bit her lip, baring honest emotion.  “I want to be able to understand what he’s going through, but every time I try to get him to talk about it, he won’t let me near.  Refuses to open up, shuts me out just like you’ve been doing all night.”

His vision panned back slowly, restoring rapt concentration.  Again, those slim slivers of snow were silent, searching – scant headlights scanning in the dark.  Stark and cold against coal, yet somewhere within seemed to spark a vestige of warmth; like stoking, coaxing the burnt out ashes of an old flame to stir and rise again.  To remember.

“Tim means a lot to you.”

“The whole world.  He’s a great guy.”

“Greater than he knows.”

“Please,” she begged, “Let me help him at least.  I’m worried about him.”

He regarded her unwavering expression, gauging sincerity.

“…You really care for him, don’t you?”

She nodded, thinking to herself that- despite his still-outwardly icy demeanor, there was indeed a thaw in his throat, a slight swell of sympathy slipping through the grave gravel.

He rotated with a sharp whisk of cape, heading for the edge of the roof.

“Come with me.”

She followed, taking cue to simultaneously fumble for her cheap grapple as he reached for his own (no doubt state-of-the-art) device.  Whilst descending down the decel line, Batman pressed a button on his utility belt, and a rumble hummed from down the road as a long, sleek, jet-black vehicle charged along the street, skidding to a stop right in front of them as they alighted on the sidewalk.  The hood automatically slid back upon recognizing its owner, inviting within the depths of its leather wings.

HolycraptheBatmobile.

She hesitated as he walked round to the driver’s side and climbed in, casting an expectant – impatient – glance at his guest.

“Well.  Hurry up and get in.”

“O- okay.”

Dear Diary, whatever you do, don’t tell my mom I agreed to get into a strange car in the middle of the night with a shady man wearing a mask.  Pretty sure she’d flip her shit.

She hopped in after, settling against the cozy cushions.  Leave it to a billionaire to be able to afford the best quality sitting material.  Admiring the impressive array of controls on the dashboard, she figured the machine in itself probably cost more than her whole house combined.

“Hang on,” he warned as they lurched forward, “And don’t touch anything.”

Stephanie hastily withdrew her itchy fingers from the nearest knob, sweating nervously.

“Can I ask what this does at least?”

“Passenger seat ejector.”

She shrank back sullenly, leaning slumped into the lavish upholstery.

Mock me at your peril, masked man.

As they sped past buildings and streetlamps, Steph inquired with a hunch as to their destination:

“So are we going to your hideout?”

“I prefer to think of it as a lair.”

She couldn’t tell whether that was supposed to be a joke or not.  Either way, she couldn’t help but feel a hint of giddy excitement at her current situation.  Not many people could proudly proclaim they got to ride in the freakin’ Batmobile once during their lives.

Cool.

Hope was a letter I never could send Love was a country we couldn't defend

And through the carnival we watch them go round and round All we knew of home was just a sunset and some clowns

[kaepop-trash]

Instrumental

Rated: M for Smut, Angst.

Pairing: Jaehyun x OC xYuta

Summary: The story of secrets, deceit and greed. Three characters with unlikely alliances and one common goal; power. Jaehyun is stuck between his own thirst for power and his need for the one thing that could take away everything. Yuta has ambition growing from an unlikely alliance and convinces himself to do anything to protect it. Between both of them is her, ambitious but with one weakness, she does all it takes for Jaehyun, even if it’s putting herself aside. But how long can she hold up her own fragile games?

Mini Masterlist

She got out of dorm building cursing a little under her breath, it was going to rain. She started walking briskly to get to the building where her lecture was before it started pouring. Walking by she saw people all around campus aimlessly making their way to the same destination. The blowing wind made her hug her coat closer to her chest as she quickened her pace.

She let out a deep sigh when she finally saw the building in sight and rushed in, noticing the small crowd beside the grand stairs.

“Will you tell daddy that you’re being bullied?” She huffed in annoyance when she recognised the voice of the biggest dick she had the privilege of knowing, Marcus.

“Will Senior Jung throw his legal team at me?” She froze halfway up the stairs. Turning around her eyes blew wider when she saw Jaehyun standing opposite Marcus looking like he was ready to punch something, she stopped to watch.

“No? Really? Come on Jaehyun.” Marcus put an arm around Jaehyun which he pushed off but still said nothing, “Make my heart flutter and bite back. Or will daddy get mad? You can’t taint his name of course, not after you got in because of him, right?” She was biting the inside of her cheek the entire time but she let go now.

“At least he didn’t have to pay his way in, Marcus.” She heard her own voice speak before she had a say in it, all eyes turned to look at her on the stairs. Jaehyun’s expression grew more bitter than before.

“And what does little miss scholarship know?” She really curbed the urge to spit in his face.

“I work at the admissions office, remember? When you and your dad came in with that large donation check? They still talk about it at the office.” She didn’t bother staying for his retort.

When she rounded the corner to the lecture hall she heard quick steps slow at her heel.

“Are you friends with him?” Her friend Natalie asked.

“Who?” She only offered a quick glance, still in a hurry to get to class.

“Jaehyun?” She clenched her jaw.

“I don’t need to know someone to stand up for them Natalie, I just dislike people like Marcus.” She hummed thoughtfully at that.

After class, she was walking downstairs when she saw Jaehyun walking out of a class, alone. He answered a phone call and even though she couldn’t hear the conversation he looked distressed, she looked away when he caught her eye and started to walk away.

She looked up at the sky and frowned at the clouds that were getting darker every passing moment, glad this was the last class. If she made it back before the rains started she would truly have a good day.

“I don’t want to host a donor brunch father, I have a test this week and I can’t represent you.” She stopped herself before she could turn to the familiar voice. Jaehyun was fighting with his father again. The foyer was practically empty now, but there were still people around, did he need to have a family feud in a building full of people who would interpret the bitterness in his voice to their advantage? She turned to him once to see him staring at her directly, silently watching. An unfamiliar feeling settled in her stomach, she looked away roughly.

“I’m sorry I’m not who you want me to be dad.” His quivering whisper echoed in her ears. That was the last thing she heard before heading out and she wished she hadn’t. The first sound of thunder rumbled and she just ducked her head down and walked towards her dorm.

 “It’s going to rain.” She told her roommate when she saw her getting ready.

“My boyfriend lives indoors.” She told her with a sly smirk, she nodded and went back to stare at her notes, “Want to come? He has a cute roommate.” She offered kindly.

“No thanks, not worth getting caught in the rain, I’ll just finish revising this and probably have my first night of proper sleep in 3 weeks.” She was already yawning as if her body was now aware of how overworked it was.

“Suit yourself, I won’t make you do something you don’t want to do.” She looked up at her roommate, thinking over the familiar phrase. She suddenly couldn’t concentrate on her tasks.

After an hour, and she checked, of sitting there thinking over one thing he said till she was disgruntled, she just got up from her table and decided to do something.

She politely thanked the guy at the convenience store and took her bag of things. Distracted by the music playing through her earphones, she didn’t notice the loud, pouring rain till she was standing outside. She looked up at the sky in disbelief, she had no one to blame but herself.

Jaehyun was sitting at his table reading a sentence on his page over and over. After an hour he had finally stopped thinking and now he was just distracted, the loud storm outside played a now familiar rhythm on his window and he would fixate on anything in the moment. His doorbell shocked him so much that he cursed out loud. After the initial shock subsided, his eyebrows knit together in confusion, he wasn’t expecting anyone, especially not in this storm. He stared out of his room thinking for a while before he heard an urgent knock on the door, finally getting up to answer it.

“I thought you weren’t home.” He looked down at the very last person he expected to see. (Y/N) stood drenched in rain and panting like she ran all the way here, he was looking at her with curious eyes and she stood there dripping on the floor of the hallway.

“I got you food? I know you don’t keep any food in your apartment and you can’t go out in this rain.” She looked unconvinced with her own excuse.

“Yet here you are.” He sighed, but let her in after he saw her face fall. Personal feelings aside, he wasn’t going to leave a girl outside soaking in rain.

“Did my mom put you up to this?” She looked up at him confused.

“Why would I walk through the whole campus to come here in the rain because your mom asked?”  He clenched his jaw at her clueless face.

“Why would you come here in the rain at all?” He was definitely acting more annoyed than he felt, he wanted to ignore how touched he was. She sighed, placing the plastic bag she had on the table beside the door.

“I know you’re pissed about what happened today, I just wanted to check on you.” Now he was annoyed.

“I don’t need your pity, (Y/N).” He sounded cold.

“I do not pity you, I actually respect you.” She paused and hesitated with her next words, “Besides our differences, I’ve still known you long enough to-“ She paused and let out a frustrated sigh, wiping the water from her face, “Look don’t look into it, I just got you some ramen. Eat it or throw it away, I don’t care. I’ll be going now.” She slapped her hands on her hips decisively and turned around, Jaehyun moved quicker and put his hand on the door.

“Don’t be silly. There’s a storm going on outside, wait for it to die down.”  He stood right behind her and she didn’t move.

“I’m soaking.” She whispered and somehow it made Jaehyun’s stomach drop.

“I have a dryer, I’ll give you something to wear.” Now Jaehyun didn’t know why he was whispering. The sudden urge to get even closer to her was so overwhelming that Jaehyun wanted to groan. A laugh suddenly came from outside the apartment and she pushed back in shock, her back colliding with Jaehyun’s. Without thinking he pushed back too and a quick feeling of regret passed through him. She turned around with horror in her eyes.

“I’m so sorry.” She put a hand on her mouth and he didn’t understand what she was talking about till he felt his chest get colder. He looked down to see a dark wet patch on his chest.

“Oh. It’s fine.” He said distractedly.

He excused himself and walked away, taking his shirt off halfway and throwing it into what she assumed was the bathroom. She got a glimpse of his toned back before she looked away. She was still focusing her sight on the ceiling when she heard him come and stand in front of him.

“You’re still standing at the entrance.” His voice was always cold, he really did dislike her.

“I didn’t want to get anything wet.”  She still wasn’t looking at him.

“Except the carpet.” She looked at him for a second like she didn’t understand what he meant and then her eyes grew wide. He handed her a towel trying to hide his smirk.

“Your face is red, you’re getting sick.” He said it factually, she blushed even harder at the revelation, “Go take a shower and put your clothes in the dryer, I’ll get you something to wear. If father finds out his precious (Y/N) got sick thanks to me, I’ll have another phone call to deal with.” Saying that he walked away.

(Y/N) stood there for a good while trying to understand what just happened, he was so confusing.

When she walked into the bathroom she saw folded clothes on the counter. His generosity stuck like acid in her throat and it made her seriously consider just leaving. If he got into trouble he’d deserve it. Ever since she got into law school with him he was such a dick. Sure they were never close, but at least he was civil. She thought this and more but got into the hot shower anyway, their dislike may be mutual but she would never bother Mr Jung like that. Without the asshole’s father she wouldn’t even be here and she convinced herself it was the only reason she decided to tolerate his bullshit.

When she walked out in his t-shirt and shorts he glanced at her briefly and went away into the kitchen to avoid thinking about her in his clothes too much.

“Have you eaten?” He asked walking out from the kitchen, she gave him the same open mouth clueless look like she either didn’t understand or had to think about it. He bit the inside of his cheek.

“No? It’s 8pm, the last thing I had was unsurprisingly lunch.” She had the same face, but he knew she was mocking him. He didn’t say anything but made two ramens from the ones she got.

“I’ll give you an umbrella, your clothes will be done soon.” He handed her a bowl as he said this, she only nodded. She sat quietly for a long time, eating her ramen quickly to leave.

“Will you just follow any orders my family gives now? You just do what I say?” She clenched her jaw.

“Why do you hate me so much?” He looked up at her, a little satisfied to get a response out of her.

“Because I go to the same place you do only because your father paid my tuition? No, you aren’t that shallow are you?” She was now clawing at him to hurt him.

“Do you think I’m using your father?” She looked right at him waiting for his expression to give away the answer, “You’re smarter than that aren’t you?” She scoffed bitterly. She pushed closer to him on the sofa, ready to savour the look in his eyes, as close as she could. Her knee touched his but he didn’t move, she smirked.

“It’s because you know, I’m the child your dad wished he had, isn’t it?” She whispered gently, contrasting her harsh words.  She saw it, the look in his she was yearning for. She saw him come to his own realisation, she saw how it broke him. She wasn’t somehow prepared for how it made her feel, she coughed like it helped subdue that and pushed back.

“Hating me won’t make you a politician Jung Jaehyun, but I know what can.” She got up and made her way to get her clothes.

“Really? Father said you were audacious, I didn’t believe it till now, do tell.” He sat back crossing his arms.

“Well, you can start by hosting that donor meeting you’re so eager to avoid. You can’t change your name Jaehyun, but you can change how they perceive it. Do your father’s name proud instead of living in its shadows. Be your own man now or you’ll become a pawn. You have two choices, strive for power or become an instrument for someone doing the same.” She walked into the bathroom to change.

“I’ll do it on one condition.” He looked like he was deep in thought when she emerged into his living room again, she laughed.

“You're making demands to the wrong person. I don’t care if you do it or not. I’m not even interested in politics.” She opened to door to leave and he slammed it shut again, this time in a fit of rage she turned around.

“I’m just letting you know before I tell father.” She looked up waiting for him to continue.

“I want you to organise it.”

[nagorin]

As the fate should be kinder to them

Fandom: D.gray-man

Rating: T

Ship: Yulma (Alma Karma/Kanda Yuu)

Words: 4280

I’m really sorry for possible mistakes, it’s my first translation into English, but I couldn't help myself, ha-ha ^^”

You can also find it on AO3

"Tell me something, please..."

The darkness of a small room thickens so much, that it is almost feels on the skin. The air stucks in a throat, leaving a salty taste on the tongue. Salty as sweat. Salty as blood. Salty as those tears, which flows automaticaly, when it hurts too much to endure. Those are the most shamefull tears. They mean that the body lets you down. This seemingly better than an ordinary human's body still lets you down, even when the whole science department almost prayed for it's regeneration. What a bullshit. It never hurts less. You're only getting used to the pain.

Kanda got used to it, but he still hisses, clenching teeth as he feels nails digging into the skin of his hand. They are too long and too sharp for human ones, and they leave a new couple of scratches, right over paled marks from before. They had only started to healing, but who the hell cares anyway. No one can see it in the dark anyway.

"Please, tell me something more," Alma calls him again, his voice shakes frantically along with his fingers twitching at Kanda's hand as hard, as if there is no wrinkled bed sheet on hard mattress, just as if there is no blanket, which was thrown off on the floor when the last attack of convulsions happened. As if there is no other connection with the reality, aside from the palm, covered with scratches. "Yuu?"

Kanda clenches teeth one more time, because hearing his own name still feels like falling into frozen water. Especially when he is called by this exhausted, almost scared voice.

"Yuu, are you still here?..."

"No, I surely left!", Kanda snarls, but it's more because of being nervous, rather than being angry, as he has no idea what he should do. "Just, you know... Cut my arm away and left."

As an answer, he hears either weak laughter or convulsive cough. Or maybe both. What a dumbass, to find such a stupid thing funny.

"Just do you remember?... How we had it?.. After synchronizations?..." it takes so much struggle for Alma to say every word, as if he has to push out a stuck rock out of his chest. But it doesn't make him stop talking. Kanda doesn't understand this even after all years passed. But he nodes with a wordless noise of agreement, and tightens the grab of shaking, literally shivering fingers.

They are hot. They are so fucking hot. It might be a good sign though. It might be a prove that his body keeps on fighting with Noahs' poison. Regeneration, created by the Order against the Dark Matter. So, which one created a better monster? Kanda snorts unwillingly while thinking about it, but the thought sinks away in the dark of the room, as he is called once again. Yeah, that's right.

He brushes wet strands aside from Alma's fevered forehead with the fingers of his left hand.

Screw the Order. And screw the Noah too. Let all of them leave to their freaking angels and demons.

The pre-dawn twilight separates their tight little room away from the outside world. Screw the world too, though. The only use of it, is to tell stories about it. To make confusingly stupid answers to stupid questions, asked in feverish state. But for now Alma's voice, exhausted and trembling, seems to be more real than any serious and dumb questions Kanda have heard before. And these fingers in his hand, weakly frozen till the next sickness attack, are felt warmer than any thing he has ever touched in his whole life.

And, maybe, not only in this life.

The old woman, who gave them a shelter, has lost her son in another war, which rushed through this country years ago. Or maybe it was her husband, and she lost a daughter, who died at giving birth. Kanda doesn't really gets it because of her strange accent and his own poor vocabulary. But it's not important anyway, so he just nodes politely every time her speech stops and she looks at him with this expecting glance. He have never tried to create an illusion of being friendly, never actually cared about it. But now is another situation and all of his patience goes for keeping it in control. Actually, he has much more patience, than he thought before.

They were taught some basic phrases in different languages in Order, so they should be able to take care of themselves in case of finder's death. Kanda was sure that he never actually remembered any of them, as he had always left details of travelling to those who followed him. But now all necessary words just appear in his head by themselves. The sentences sound wrong, the grammar is freaking poor (what's grammar for, actually), but it turns out to be enough. Or maybe an old hag just understood everything from their awful condition. It's a miracle that she let them in.

"Is your friend surely okay?" she asks, her voice is quiet and creaking, just as the door of her house. Only God keeps this door from falling, maybe he should try to fix its hinges as a gratitude... Kanda doesn't gets her at first and blinks blankly. "I mean, it's been two days since he..."

Oh, fuck, that's right.

"He is perfectly fi..." he starts, but stumbles, as he mixed up freaking languages. His brain is so confused after a couple of sleepless days. Yes, he is perfectly fine, he repeats once again as he pronounces all of the words as slowly and plain as he can, carefully searching for them in dull memory. No, don't be afraid, it's not infectious thing. How growing back legs can actually be infectious, he wants to add, but stops himself in time. There's no use in shocking an old lady with unnecessary knowledge. It is one of the basic rules in Order. And maybe it's a common sense.

So she doesn't know anything, but she still smiles and offers some kind of herbal tea. Kanda feels sick from its smell even more than from being hungry. The food just stuck in his throat, but it still doesn't matter. He just has to swallow the tasteless ball to get more power for holding on some more time.

It is weird and unfamiliar to feel weakness. There are this unpleasant itch of unhealing scratches and lots of dark spots before eyes - he wants to sweep them away, like some kind of mud. But it still feels so much easier to breath. As if some kind of hole in chest, right between lungs, was suddenly filled. Oh.

He have never thought about how big was this hole before.

It's get better by afternoon. Maybe the Dark Matter works stronger during the night, but they would like to believe, that the worst time has finally passed. Or it least took its break, so they must really use it.

"Can you tell me something else, please?" Alma asks again with a low husky voice, grasping Kanda's wrist so desperately, as he has gone forever, instead of just walking to window to draw dusty blinds, to protect them from intrusion of annoyingly bright sunlight. Though the sun is stubborn and uses every gap to sneak into their small room. "Yuu, aren't you sleeping?..."

"Of course I'm not," he answers with a little wince, as he throws off a weird feeling of hearing everything through cotton aside with his vision going blur. "You're the one who should be sleeping."

Alma doesn't say anything, only wrinkles, and the reason are not the sun rays, dancing across his face when the blinds are lifted by sudden wind. Alma is afraid of falling asleep, and they both know it.

"Every time I close my eyes - I see them. I see him and them. You understand, right?"

As if he couldn't understand it. Kanda nodes and, in a gesture of encouragement, or maybe at least compassion, once again brushes off Alma's forehead stuck strands of hair. His skin seems to be light blue in daylight, as if he was a corpse. It's almost funny, as the skin is still hot, Kanda feels its warmness by tips of his fingers. Still hotter than normal human's temperature. But they are getting closer to it.

So they just have to wait more. Sleep is the best medicine. At least he heard about it.

"Maybe at least something?" Alma pulls the sleeve of shirt, kindly given by their hostess. And moves over to the wall, making more free space on a tight bed. "You'd better lay too, you are already falling asleep."

"I'm not falling anywhere," he argues, but it's more out of habit. So he suits himself on the bed, right after taking off boots (way too big for him, but who the hell complains about gifts). The roof watches them from above with its dark starless pit. It almost feels nostalgic.

Kanda doesn't look, but he still knows what kind of face Alma wears now. This stupid and full of guilty face when he expects to hear refuse even before voicing his request. When he is ashamed of himself in advance, for every silly thing he might say. Years ago because of such pitiful look, Kanda felt like some kind of uneasy knot was tying inside, so he was angry. Of course he was angry, but not because of any thing Alma was going to say.

And same it is now.

"Yuu..."

"I don't know what to tell you," he breaths out almost nervously. It sucks to admit that he has such an empty head for now. Blame the damn tiredness. "I just have no idea"

Alma nodes, shrinking a bit. Damn, not this kind of silence for now! Kanda turns to him and sees the pale-blue shadows from eyelashes dancing on sunken cheeks. So he tries to sleep anyway, huh? Kanda almost makes a sigh of relief when he feels through the fabric of shirt the feverish warmness of the body, clinging to his arm.

"I'm just fine," answers Alma to an unasked question with a hoarse voice. It's not clear what's more in his smile - bitterness or some kind of weird fondness."Just, to think about it, Yuu... That you live for such a long time just to..."

He stumbles and swallows without speaking out that one thing he'll never be able to voice out. But they won't have to try any more.

"So many awful years..."

"They were not that awful," mutters Kanda gloomily. Maybe they were empty and blind because of unvoiced mix of anger and yearning. But he still can't think of them being just in vain.

If only he knew how to tell it the way Alma would believe him.

"You just might have been so..."

"Alma", Kanda rises his voice a bit and shakes shrunk shoulders. The body in his arms feels so unhealthily light, as if it belonged to some kind of doll. But he just keeps on shaking and speaking again."Just let it go"

Alma smiles weakly, drearly, not lifting his glance.

"How can I do so? Every time I think about all you have to go through..."

"I know," he stops another flood of words. Alma can't stop apologising, even when he has a fever. Kanda doesn't understand why, but it makes him so angry, that sometimes he wishes to scream it out. He just wishes Alma could stop thinking about how awful it was to live alone for all of these years. Does it really makes everything what had happened with Alma less worse? Does it really makes everything the Order and the Noah did with Alma freaking better?! You can't compare it, you just can't fucking compare it! But still.

Alma nodes, ashamed, as if he understood all of the unsaid (perhaps they would never be said) words. He makes a deep sigh, breathing more air into lungs, but Kanda won't let him come back to this endless circle of searching the one to blame. Because Alma always ends up blaming himself. And it's enough for him. It's enough for you, dumbass.

"I know," Kanda repeats, covering shaking shoulders with a picked up blanket. "But still, please try to let it go."

Alma nodes uncertainly, closing his eyes and grasping Kanda's wrist so tight that it hurts, but it is fine. With such desperation you hold your only last string that connects reality with world of unhappy dreams you have never wanted to see.

"Yuu, I just..."

"I'll find what story to tell you when you wake up."

Even if he'll have to stare at dark ceiling for the whole day long. They still have no reason to hurry up. For one more time world has become so small and limited, like it was in first months of their lives.

"You are more important, Yuu."

Wait, what?

"Even if I have some kind of dream," Alma gives him that weak sleepy smile he must have not seen for eternity."You always will be most important."

Kanda doesn't find what to answer, but it's not like he was expected to. So he just watches the bottomless pit of the ceiling, while listening to uneven breathing, straining ears nervously from time to time when it's getting too quiet. The sleep come here unnoticed, just as it was before, when it was enough to close tired eyes with heavy eyelids, which were hurting a dull pain as the whole body did after another synchronization test.

But this time dreams are neither about blinding by sunlight blue sky, not about endless floor, covered with blood.

"Will Yuu wake up soon?" troubled ringing voice calls for him through veil of heat and strangers' words he would forget after waking up. "Has he got a cold or something?"

In a week their small world will be broken because of things they couldn't stop remembering. But for that moment their ignorance was protected. The scientists try to protect it, so they answer to Alma with polite and clever words of adults - everything is okay, you just have to wait, nothing to worry about, because we'll deal with everything. Such a polite and clever desperate lie.

He feels a small cold palm touching his forehead. And it feels nice. The heat doesn't leave, but it feels somehow better anyway.

"Can I stay beside him? I'll just sit here, I won't break anything", promises Alma, and not even they can refuse to him. Not to these honest eyes. So he sits beside Yuu, and his palm is colder than stone walls, slightly covered with frost, colder than water in pools. This cold is saving, even though there is still warmness, coming from his friend's fingers when he carefully removes wet strands from his sweaty forehead.

"Everything surely will be fine" - a soft promise is voiced, as a familiar-unfamiliar echo catches it up from somewhere far far way. Further than memories, further than dreams...

Kanda feels light and soft touches tickling his temples, and makes a grimace, trying to throw them away along with a stubborn hardness of slumber. Waking up was easier before. It was easier to come back to reality from web of illusions and broken images of his mind (it has never been healthy, hasn't it? This mind has never fully belonged to him anyway). This body has been plunging forward before, so his thoughts couldn't catch up with its movements. His soul couldn't live in the same rhythm. Maybe the scientists should have take care not only about his synchronization with Innocence. But nothing can be fixed now. And waking up feels another way now somehow.

He feels his body and mind as if they are made of cotton: weak and will-less. Now his reality restores slowly with cloudy stains. Time stretches and becomes viscous; it seems that he have wasted more than an hour just to open his eyes. And almost eternity is wasted on separate present from gone away past, like gentle fingers separate one thread from another, or brush strands, carefully taking care of awkward mats of hair. Or, maybe, not always carefully.

"Easier, damn it," he grunts when Alma carelessly pulls his hair, and the dull pain is felt in the back of his head. It's not that painful, a mosquito's bite in comparison with anything they have gone through, but it is still annoying."Have you woken up long ago?"

"I don't think so..." Alma bends his brows uncertainly, and almost draws back his hand, as it dares to stay long in other's hair for too long, but Kanda catches his wrist in time and returns his palm at its place. With his neck and side of his ear, he feels weak and soft warmness of the skin, and more feels than sees in evening's twilight how Alma's pale face turns red. But it doesn't feels uncomfortable. Alma used to blush for any possible reason - when he laughed, when he cried, when he was angry, or like this, from something pretty obvious, but the word still runs away from being named, teasing them. "You have such a strange voice..."

"I might have, as I slept for too long," Kanda agrees as he swallows a tickling feeling his throat. But then he wonders - what if Alma means it another way?

Too many years passed since they'd heard each other the last time. "And the hair is so long," he doesn't understand what hides between this thoughtful muttering, and it almost scares him. Kanda looks with intensity into other's face, expecting to see troubled expression, as if he won't be acknowledged. But the one he finds is just a weird warmness as Alma laughs peacefully."It must be so awkward, why won't you cut it, Yuu?"

"If you think so, cut your own instead," Kanda answers, trying not to think about strange feeling of relief, raised inside. His fingers make their own way to make their way in (was it actually forgotten) gesture of pulling the cheek of this smiling idiot, but they stop almost touching his pale as paper sheet skin. It seems so fragile, that it seems, that once you squeeze too hard, and there will be blood. There is some kind of anxious snake, somewhere deep in the chest, and it makes him ask question immediately." So, what's up with you legs? Can you sit already? And, speaking of food, can you wait till the morning? An old hag might be sleeping already..."

He stops when he sees these big eyes, filled with surprise, staring at him. They blink for a couple of seconds, but then their owner turns moody again. The blush dances across the line of his scar and lank cheeks; Kanda just wants to believe that the attack of fever isn't returning. Will the world fucking over, if they have a break from this shit at least for a day?!

"I still feel sick, so I'm not hungry at all..." Alma explains drearly, as he shivers from gentle touch to his forehead(as if he is some kind of stray cat)."I guess, I'll never ever want to eat..."

Kanda is secretly sure that it's just for now. He remembers too much of his friend's appetite from the times when everything felt right as if where couldn't be better way. So, when things will come into an order...

"Does Akuma need food at all, Yuu?"

Their life must come into an order at last, mustn't it?

"I'm not sure that it will turn back to normal", Alma goes on with his muttering as he nervously fingers dark hair, winding its strands and muddling into it, but Kanda doesn't stop him. They need to learn how to talk about it. Talking hurts even more than thinking; words cut the throat sharper than needles. He knows it perfectly, that's why he tries to encourage the other by touching his cheek as softly, as he understand the meaning of this word. Why even being gentle is so much harder than being harsh? It doesn't matter, though. The only thing that matters it that his awkward encouragement works, and a quiet voice keeps on talking."I just mean... These marks on my skin... My ears are still sharp, and teeth might be too... Not to mention this tail!"

Alma makes this list and stares at him, as if he expects some kind of advice. But all Kanda can think about is how sharp the other's cheekbones are now. It seems that you can cut your finger if you touch it.

"Seriously, Yuu, say something!"

He blinks and finally notices this expecting look, with some kind of panic at the bottom of these childishly opened eyes. But the panic dissolves as the fingers slide across the cheek in unthinking gesture, which came from somewhere deep inside. Kanda is not even sure that it is returning of something forgotten from the darkness of subconsciousness. He just knows that he can't do it another way.

"Who cares about this freaking tail," he says the first thing that comes into his mind, but then adds:"The Siscomplex and others might take care about it. They are kind of... clever or something."

"You talking about Lenalee's brother, aren't you?", Alma's doubtful question makes him choke.

"Did you hear what I was talking about?"

It's not like he was telling stories, he couldn't call stories that monotonous and senseless voicing of every memory that came across in his tired mind. It was orderless and dumb, but did he actually have a choice? He had to say at least something, to make his voice sound as a reminder to the one who laid beside him in his conciousless fight of regenerations with the Dark Matter. He had to remind that he is here, that there are things worth fighting for, and that the his hand to grasp is not an illusion.

He thought it was enough if Alma could hear him, and clung to his hand. But now Alma is smiling at him with a shy pride, and it somehow feels hard to breath.

"I'm not sure if I heard everything right, but... I'd like to know more about your life."

Kanda nodes and carefully, almost clumsily, touches his finally cold enough forehead with his lips. They feel the temperature better than other parts of the body, he explains for some reason, and the quiet giggling feels that emptiness in lungs, because of which breathing was so unbearably hard.

"Stop laughing, damn it! Komui was talking about it too."

"And did he checked your temperature like this too?"

"Nah, only to Lena. He is crazy, but not suicidal. I guess so..."

Alma bursts out with laughter and tries to say something, but as he can't stop laughing his words are not clear at all. But it doesn't matter. It is enough to hear this laughter, so the world beside the walls of this small close dark room stops being scary. Even if it's breaking into pieces. Even if they are breaking into pieces along with this world.

It has been enough to have Alma beside to find some sense of living this wrong life. It has been always enough.

Kanda needs to tell him about it, but not now. Now is the time of another talks, which are no less important. But it's not about thing they are afraid or hurting too much to discuss, and it's not about things they might never forgive to themselves or to the whole word: from heart-ache of broken hope, till sensible enough bruises from intravenous pipes, the marks are like spots on the corpse, are still noticeable on the pale skin of artificial Akuma. Kanda looks at them and feels the need to choke to death all those fucking cruds who did it. But it's not the right time.

There is no time for their anger, that might never go away, only will seek the bottom as a bitter sand. There is too few time for them to live in a world without the Order, the Noah, and that one small naive exorcist they seem to have to save from all the shit he'd got into because of them. But it would be the most ungrateful thing - not to use all those minutes, hours and days Allen Walker had granted to them. That's why they live this time till the last drop of it.

"Tell me something more about this Komui," makes Alma a peaceful request, and Kanda rolls his eyes.

"I'll make my throat dry if I'll start talking about his failures."

"Then tell me something about Allen, he seems to be such a nice person..."

"Fine, I'll tell you about the Siscomplex..."

"I can't believe that you're so rude, Yuu!"

Alma's smile is still slightly painful, but also it is cincere (just like after synchronization tests, when he was running to Yuu, risking to loose one of his limbs) so it's enough. If Kanda is going to die, and his memories will be erased, he will hold on to these moments with everything he can call a soul.

If that was a wish of that person, whose hand was reaching to the endless sky, then Kanda finally understands him. So he pulls closer to his chest the person he'd lost long ago, but lived long enough to have him returned.

This night the past doesn't disturbs their dreams, only soughs away with a fabric of old-fashioned capes. The past has paid its debts to them, finally.

As the fate should be kinder to them, at least sometimes.

[blznbaby]

Today Was A Fairytale

Book: The Royal Romance Pairing: Liam x MC Audience: General Note: The fic is titled after the song 'Today Was A Fairytale' by Taylor Swift. This song came on and I immediately thought of my kinky king and had flashbacks to great moments in the story. I miss him so much :( I suggest listening to it while reading. It kind of played through my head like a music video :). I didn't really edit or put much thought into grammar. Here's my rough draft. I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Pixleberry Studios. I do not own rights to the song. All rights reserved to Taylor Swift

Liam stood in the grand ballroom of the palace and found himself face to face with the most breathtaking woman he’d ever seen. Her hair was dark and flowing, a black demi-mask securely tied around her head, and her shapely figure hugged the fabric of her red gown that popped against the deep bronze of her skin. Even with half her face hidden she was striking. There was something about this mystery woman that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. And it wasn’t just her beauty—there were scores of beautiful women there. Perhaps it was her smile, the almond shape of her eyes, or the way her beauty seemed to radiate from within. She shimmered. She glowed. She was utterly radiant, and Liam suddenly realized that it was because of the light in her eyes. She looked so damned happy. Happy to be where she was. Happy to be who she was. But who was she? He was certain that if he’d ever seen those eyes before, he would surely remember. He stared hard for a moment, then his eyes went wide.

“Marcella!” he exclaimed, shock apparent on his face. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

Marcella couldn’t help but grin. “So…this is a good surprise I hope?” she asked slyly.

“The best,” his eyes twinkled at her. “I can’t believe you came all this way for me.”

Ever since their magical night in New York he’d had trouble focusing on much else. He played that night over in his head a million times with the hope that he would see her again. He hadn’t forgotten for a moment how it had felt to be with her, and he’d spun more than a few fantasies about what it might be like if she were part of his future and there she was, right in front of him. Fate had been kind.

“Liam…I know we have something special. I want to see what it can be.”

“I feel the same way,” he breathed.

The sounds of a dreamy waltz filled the ballroom. Liam extended his hand smiling at her expectantly. She smiled back, a wide, beaming grin that traveled straight to his soul. She put her hand in his, and it was only then that Liam realized he’d been holding his breath. She leaned forward, “I don’t…I’m not sure I know the steps,” she whispered. He smiled confidently, assuring her. “Just follow my lead.”

His hand found her waist, and he drew her close into starting position. He was strong, but gentle as he guided her every movement across the ballroom floor. They moved together elegantly as one, in perfect sync, as hundreds of people looked on. But, in that moment everyone else in the room seemed to fade away as they looked into each other’s eyes. It was something straight out of a fairytale; a girl being swept off her feet by a charming prince. And from that moment on, they knew this was the beginning of something special…

Today was a fairytale

You were the prince

I used to be a damsel in distress

Most women would’ve swooned or run off at his admission, but Marcella didn’t care. So what he was some Crown Prince of Cordonia or whatever the hell it was, to her he was the same guy she’d met earlier that evening. The man was special and not because of his wealth and title, but because he was kind, thoughtful, charming, and admittedly handsome, which was a rarity these days. Liam was relieved. It was nice to be considered a little less than a prince and a little more of himself and he realized that the more he talked to this woman the more he came to like her...

You took me by the hand

And you picked me up at six

Today was a fairytale

Today was a fairytale

He approached the front door of the Beaumont estate, glancing at his watch—5 p.m. He felt awkward showing up unannounced, but he needed to see her. The way Marcella had thrown herself into the courtly life with such grace and enthusiasm hadn’t gone unnoticed. He knew it wasn’t easy, especially for her. He imagined dating for her was quite different back in New York and after everything she had done for him, he wanted to meet her halfway. He drew a deep breath and straightened the lapels on his blazer, nervously pressing his finger on the doorbell.

“You’re a delightful surprise,” Marcella laughed lighthearted.

“…it’s maybe a little silly, but…would you go on a date with me?" Liam asked, hopeful.

Marcella was pleasantly surprised, a glimmer of a smile on her face. “A date?”

“My first true date. I want it to be with you.”

Even though he’d never been on a date before, he was prepared to pull out all the stops for her. He had done all the research necessary to ensure a proper date. That night, he just wanted to be Liam and Marcella. Two normal people away from the pomp and circumstance of court. Awkward icebreaker questions and first-date nerves were foreign to him, but he was excited for every bit of it. He knew it was last minute, but every fiber in his being was hoping she’d say yes.

“Liam…I’d love to go on a date with you!”

Liam was delighted, the corners of his eyes creasing from smiling so hard. “Sounds perfect. I’ll meet you at your room in an hour?” Excitement fluttered inside her like a million butterflies, and she gave a small nod. “I’m in the east wing, fourth door from the right. I’ll see you then.”

Today was a fairytale

I wore a dress

You wore a dark gray t-shirt

“Ya know…I think I prefer this look second to you in no shirt at all.”

Liam chuckled, “I’ll make note that you prefer t-shirts to three piece suits.”

His dark colored t-shirt was the perfect disguise in their incognito adventure. People rushed past, barely sparing them a glance as they continued their romantic walking tour along the busy New York City streets. Liam thought it funny, although they were completely surrounded, they were ignored, no one seeming to notice Marcella sticking out like a sore thumb in a cream colored ball gown. But, he wasn’t complaining, it was nice to be normal for a change and there was no one else he’d rather get lost in a crowd with. It was like the first night they met, before she knew he was a prince. The greatest gift the city had ever given them was each other and it would forever hold a special place in both their hearts.  

You told me I was pretty

When I looked like a mess

Today was a fairytale

Marcella shook and beat at the skirts of her dress, trying to remove any remnants of dirt or dust that may have soiled it from their hedge maze rendezvous. They had to return to the ball before anyone noticed their disappearance. She smoothed down her dress and patted her hair, pulling a twig from her long dark mane and tossing it aside. She giggled at herself, she was sure she looked ridiculous. She turned to Liam, and huffed, “hey, how do I look?”

He stopped brushing the sleeves of his black dress coat to smile at her, his gaze sweeping up and down her body…he had never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life.

“You look like a princess,” he said softly, taking her hand and pressing it to his lips, his eyes growing serious,”…or someone who is about to become one.”

Time slows down

Whenever you’re around

Time ceased to exist as they took off running, weaving through the many twists and turns of the hedge maze, laughing and giggling like two kids, heading for the large tree in the distance just around the corner. Liam was hot on her heels, as she made a beeline toward the center, confident in her victory when he reached out to tag her, his momentum sending them tumbling and rolling to the ground, stopping at the base of the tree. They looked at each other before bursting out laughing like a pair of hyenas. It was something about her that made him want to break all the rules, their game of maze-tag unexpected, but somehow perfect. He had laughed more in that maze than he had in ages, perhaps this was exactly what he needed.

Can you feel this magic in the air?

It must’ve been the way you kissed me

Fell in love when I saw you standing there

It must’ve been the way

Today was a fairytale

The boat slowed in the harbor, Lady Liberty emerging from the mist. Liam stood silent, so much unsaid that didn’t need to be said. He was moved beyond words, in awe of the view, and of her. No one had every planned such a grand gesture to make his dreams come true. No one had ever cared enough to listen and get to know him for him. She had touched him in a way she could never understand. It was nothing short of a dream and it had been so long since he’d allowed himself to dream. He felt wonder, happiness, and for the first time, possibility. He knew he would cherish the moment for the rest of his life.

Liam drew closer to her, admiring her sense of adventure and her unique way of following her heart. Marcella smiled, realizing she had set off something inside of him. Something inside that had been dormant for so long that he didn’t even know it still existed. Throwing caution to the wind, she pulled him into a deep kiss. She was falling for him…hard. There was something about him, and she knew she hadn’t stopped smiling since their eyes met earlier that evening. In the morning she’d be back to reality, but tonight he was hers. Though shocked at first, Liam responded eagerly, giving in to the magic of the experience and trusting her fully. He finally had the freedom to be whomever he wanted to be, even if it were only for one night.

“I’m glad to have met you Marcella. I’ll never forget this night.”

Today was a fairytale

You’ve got a smile

That takes me to another planet

Every move you make

Everything you say is right

Today was a fairytale

Liam led Marcella through the flower-covered arches at the country estate, a swift breeze rustled over the hedges, picking up the sweet scent of roses. Liam picked Marcella up in his arms and spun her around. He always felt like himself whenever they were together, perhaps even his best self. Marcella giggled at his unexpected change. He was different that day…lighter…more carefree. They smiled together looking into the maze, when she spotted a pretty wooden swing hanging from a giant tree.

“Hey Liam.”

“Hey Marcella.”

“Will you push me on the swing?”

“My pleasure.”

Marcella was over the moon. They talked for what seemed like hours, their laughs echoing through the maze. Liam wanted nothing more than to get lost in the maze with her and never find their way out. Liam slowed the swing to a stop, leaning over, wrapping his arms around her waist. She leaned back into him, resting her head against his shoulder breathing him in. Liam tightened the embrace, pulling her to his chest. Looking up, Marcella cupped his check and pulled him over, pressing her lips against his. This. This was what he’d been waiting for his entire life, without even knowing that he’d been waiting. This feeling of being so incredibly alive, like every inch of his skin was awake, all because of her. As he pulled away, he laughed. She looked at him, puzzled. “What are you laughing about?”

He laughed again; he couldn’t help it. “I’m just so happy.”

Today was a fairytale

All that I can say is now it’s getting so much clearer

Nothing made sense ‘til the time I saw your face

Today was a fairytale

Time slows down

Whenever you’re around

Marcella peered over the edge of the waterfall, putting her hand in Liam’s.

“On three? One…Two…Three!”

It were as if time slowed as they both bent their knees and jumped, confident in their leap of faith. They flew through the air hand in hand unable to scream, the exhilarating fall taking their breath away. Their bodies hit the cool clear water with a thunderous splash. 

“Thank you for coming out here with me. For getting to know me. For…for caring about me, Marcella. I’ve never had anyone in my life like you. And now that I have you…I never want to lose you.”

They shared a heated kiss as Liam brought her body flush against him. Marcella reveled in his warmth, running her fingers through his hair, bringing him closer. They pulled apart, breathless, their foreheads touching. They knew they hadn’t known each other long, but whenever they were together everything made perfect sense. Everything was becoming so much clearer.

But can you feel this magic in the air?

It must’ve been the way you kissed me

Fell in love when I saw you standing there

It must’ve been the way

Today was a fairytale

She hitched up the hem of her dress and walked across the palace grounds, making her way through the hedges to find Liam waiting for her at the center. He heart fluttered at the sight of him standing there. Twinkling fairy lights and bright pink and yellow roses surrounded them while the soft sound of chirping crickets played in the background. It was magical. Liam was grateful that she had come out to meet him. It was just as he wished it to be, just the two of them before their lives changed forever. He had so much to tell her, things he’d been wanting to say for quite some time. He had never expected to feel the way he did about anyone or meet someone as incredible as her and he didn’t want to spend another minute without her knowing exactly how he felt. He had never said the words to anyone before, but he knew it was as true as his own name.

“…Marcella…I love you.” He said softly, watching her carefully.

Marcella looked back into his all too serious eyes. “Liam…I love you too.”

Time slows down whenever you’re around

I can feel my heart

It’s beating in my chest

Do you feel it?

I can’t put this down

The stars twinkled in the night sky as they disembarked the boat on their last stop of the evening. They strolled shoulder to shoulder toward the base of the Statue of Liberty while taking in the majestic view. They were back at the place where it all started, finally, they had come full circle.

Liam turned to her, his gaze intense with every ounce of love he could muster as he took her left hand in his. Marcella could feel her heart racing, pounding in her chest. Suddenly, her breath caught in her throat, eyes growing wide as Liam slowly got down on one knee…

But can you feel this magic in the air?

It must’ve been the way you kissed me

Fell in love when I saw you standing there

It must’ve been the way

Liam opened the right box tucked in his hands to reveal a dazzling diamond ring. He looked into her eyes with every ounce of love he could muster, and began to speak.

“Lady Marcella, queen of my heart, I have yearned to say these four words for a very, very long time…” Realizing what was happening, her right hand flew over her mouth.

“Will you marry me?”

Tears streaming down her face, she frantically nodded. “Oh Liam…Yes! A thousand times yes!”

He gently slid the ring on her finger and rose to his feet, looking deep into her dark eyes, his smile more brilliant than she had ever seen before. He picked her up and twirled her around in his arms. They shared a thrilling celebratory kiss as she wrapped her legs around him and he held her body tight against his. He set her down and she stood in his arms, his forehead resting against hers.

“I have never been happier than I am in this moment!”

But can you feel this magic in the air?

It must’ve been the way you kissed me

Fell in love when I saw you standing there

It must’ve been the way

Today was a fairytale

It must’ve been the way

Today was a fairytale

The doors of the church opened, revealing a flower-strew cathedral filled with their closest family and friends. She glided down the aisle on Bertrand’s arm. Looking ahead, she saw him; her future husband, her king, her one true love standing at the altar, smiling, his eyes glistening with emotion. Liam happily received his bride, and the ceremony got underway, his thumb brushing across her knuckles as he held her hands. The pure joy in his eyes as he looked at her was almost overwhelming. She blinked back tears, as she recited her vows and completely lost it when Liam recited his. Everything was wonderful, sweet and heartfelt and there wasn’t a dry eye in the room.

“By the power vested in me by the kingdom of Cordonia, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Marcella threw her arms around Liam’s neck and kissed him passionately. He slipped an arm around her waist, dipping her into an even deeper kiss. With all the guests erupting into cheers and congratulations, they walked arm and arm back down the aisle. Outside, hundreds of well-wishers cheered as their King and new Queen emerged from the church and stepped into the warm sunlight.

“King Liam! Queen Marcella! Look over here!” They turned as Donnie held up his camera and their lips meet in a sweet kiss, the first of many in this new and exciting chapter in their lives. They climbed into the carriage and pulled off into the sunset, waving….

Today was a fairytale…

“Sorry I’m late. Thanks for your patience, Miss…?”

Marcella blinked out of her reverie and tried to focus on the handsome stranger, who was staring at her, thoroughly amused.

“Uh, Marcella,” she murmured.                                       

He looked at her questionably at the mention of her name, struck with an unexpected, and strangely intense, sensation that he’d met her before.  He extended his hand. “Charmed to make your acquaintance, Marcella. I’m Liam.”

She place her hand in his. “Trust me, the charms all mine. It’s nice to meet you, Liam.”

[in-the-bookish-dark]

The Man in the Hat - RL

(According to family folklore, when us kids were small, and before we moved into town to start school, I sometimes mentioned a man in a hat - which nobody but me ever saw. I don't know if I saw him a lot or just a time or two ... but the image has always stuck in my mind.)

Charlie and Sarah burst through the back screen door, the tight spring slamming it back shut with a single bounce.

"Where have you kids been? I was calling you five minutes ago, but you were nowhere to be found."

"We were back down by the creek – throwing sticks into the water and watching them sail down."

"Well, you need to pay attention and listen for me when I call. What if it was an emergency?"

"Uh-huh."

"Anyway, come in now and have your lunch. Bologna sandwiches, milk and carrots.

"Okay. But can we go back out after lunch? We’re just going to wade across to the Mr. Parker’s shed and play house in it."

"Wade, Charlie? How deep is the water today?"

"It’s only like this high" Sarah said, making a gap of about three inches between her hands.

"Well … alright … but don’t get your shoes or socks wet and dirty. Roll up your pants, and if it doesn’t look safe …" she wondered if she needed to check out the creek and shed herself.

"We saw Mr. Parker over there earlier. We asked him and he said it was safe and we could come over if we wanted."

Still – as much as she trusted their neighbor, there might be anything out in that shed – spiders, snakes, scorpions …

"Mr. Parker said it was safe?"

"We saw him over there and called to him if we could play there. He said we could, and that there wasn’t nothing to hurt us."

Sarah stared right into her mom’s eyes. She was good. Angela knew she could sell snow to eskimos, but if she thought it was safe for both of them, it very likely was. What she didn’t know is that she had made up half that conversation with Mr. Parker. They saw him, sure, and they all waved back and forth. She hollered to him about playing in the shed and he said come on over, something something fun. She didn’t see his face, but who else would it be, out in the country like they were?

They swallowed their lunches in what seemed like three bites. Even with Charlie refilling both their milks, they were done in no time at all then ran to wash their faces. In the middle of scrubbing her cheeks, Sarah erupted into a nose-bleed.

Angela made her go into the living room and lean back on the couch, holding her nose to staunch the bleeding. Charlie ran in and out of the back door, checking on her every few minutes.

"Charlie! Don’t go far! I don’t want you out in that shed by yourself!"

"No, mama, I won’t." he would call out from the far side of the door, then vanish from her line of sight.

He’d pop in after another few minutes, then back out again.

On his next trip in, he grabbed two pieces of bread.

"Charlie!? What do you need with bread? Did you not eat enough lunch?"

"No, mama, I did. This is for … it’s a secret …"

"Secret? Charlie, you tell me now or stay inside."

"It’s for the man with the hat."

Oh, Lord, Angela said under her breath. She thought Charlie was done with his imaginary "man with the hat" stories. It had been, what … six months since he’d mentioned him last. He was the perfect excuse for anything Charlie wanted to get away with, and that was a lot of things. Eventually, they got tired and lazy and decided that as long as it wasn’t unsafe, he could do what he wanted with his invisible "man with the hat."

She skewered him with her eyes and he didn’t flinch. He was, at least, committed to the story.

She sighed. Things could be worse. "Does the man with the hat need a soda to wash that bread down?"

Charlie brightened. "Can he have one!?"

"Don’t let him walk off with the empty bottle. It's worth a nickel."

"Oh, he won’t."

I know he won’t, she thought, not unless you lose it.

She pinched Sarah’s nose herself. Whatever Sarah was doing wasn’t getting the job done.

Angela glanced down at her watch. If Charlie was true to form, he’d be back in within minutes to ask for something more – a snack to go with the drink, maybe a piece of fruit … and her waiting wasn’t in vain.

Charlie raced in, out of breath, and just stood there panting for a moment.

"What does the man with the hat want now, Charlie?"

"Nothing. I’m just coming in to check on Sarah. He’s gone into the shed for a nap, so I wanted to see if she was still not feeling good."

"You probably ought to count her out for a while, Charlie. You and the man with the hat will have to get by without her for a bit." It rankled her a little to acknowledge this "man with a hat" but it was easier than arguing the storyline at every turn.

"Uh-huh, okay …."

This time he paused at the back door.

"Can we play games in the storm cellar when he wakes up?"

"What kind of … yes, Charlie, you can play games."

With that, he trotted out the door and down the back steps.

Her eyes followed him. He skipped across the yard, making up his own sing-song yell, "Come one, come on, she said it’s okay, we can play down there today!"

Curiosity got the better of her, and she stretched to keep him in sight without letting go of Sarah’s nose. She could see twenty yards around him and there was nobody else there. No body and no thing in all that space, but for Charlie and the cellar.

She looked back to Sarah. The blood was finally begrudgingly, starting to clot, which was good, because her fingers were starting to get stiff.

She heard the counterweight for the cellar door spin the flywheel once, and then again as the door re-closed. Even if she didn’t see him clearly, she heard everything just fine – aside from the sound of the flywheel and weight, there was only one set of feet heading down the cellar steps.

Things were settling once again – Sarah was laying back on the couch reading, the book propped in front of her and kleenexes under her nose "just in case." Charlie was playing peacefully, off by himself in the cellar. All was good in Angela's world for a few minutes. She made a big glass of iced tea and flipped through her magazine at the kitchen table.

"Mama, I think Charlie is being bad in the cellar." Sarah sounded like she might drop off for a nap at any moment. Angela didn’t mind. Any time you can get a ten year old to take a nap is golden time. At least both kids were being calm and quiet. Charlie was eight. For him to be quiet for half an hour, much less take a nap, was especially rare.

"He’s fine, Sarah. He’s just playing by himself. Another ten minutes and you can probably go join him."

"You should check on him."

"He’s fine, Sarah. Just leave him be. There’s nothing in the cellar he can get in trouble with."

"You’d be surprised."

"Then I’ll be surprised.

Angela had another ten minutes of peace and quiet, just long enough to finish the two articles she was interested in. She flattened the creases back out of the magazine and laid it on the done stack in her reading basket.

"Cookies, Sarah?"

"Yes, ma’am."

"Chocolate chip or Oreos."

"Mmmm… can I have some of both?"

"Uh-huh."

"Milk or lemonade?"

"Milk, silly! How can I dunk my cookies in lemonade?" Sarah stumbled in from the living room with a sleepy giggle and threw herself into a chair at the table. She was still looking pretty pale, which was unusual from a nose bleed. Maybe they’d exerted themselves down at the creek more than she’d thought.

Angela got Sarah’s snack ready, and the same for Charlie, but on a Dixie cup and paper plate. The one thing she didn't need in the cellar was a broken plate or cup.

Sarah saw the other plate and got quiet.

"Is Charlie coming back up?"

"I thought I’d take his snack down."

Sarah just nodded and looked out the window.

"This would be a good time, mama. Please."

The wind almost flipped the plate of cookies when Angela shuffled things to hold plate and cup as well as open the cellar door.

She hoisted the door, and before it could drop down again, propped it with the rake for her quick trip down and back up.

There were no lights on in the cellar.

"That Charlie … silly …" Angela thought.

"Charlie! What are you doing sitting down here in the dark? You could trip over something. She got to the bottom of the stairs and flipped the light switch, and the little forty watt bulb buzzed itself awake.

Charlie was seated in his old school desk, turned away from the door, staring right at the big canning shelves filled with dill pickles, tomatoes, asparagus, and a half dozen other things they’d put up early in the year.

"Charlie, baby, stop being silly and leave the light on. I brought you some cookies and milk.

She rounded the desk and stopped in surprise. He had been drawing on some construction paper, just some daisy-like flowers, but they were pretty good for being done in the dark. Maybe he’d only just turned the light off. She squatted down to talk for a moment and to put his plate and cup on the desk.

After surprise came alarm.

"Charlie! How long since your nose started bleeding! You should have called me, honey, or come back in, and we’d have taken care of it." She started dabbing at his nose and squeezing the bridge like she did with Sarah. He was a little cold, which was unusual, since the cellar wasn’t.

Her eyes adjusted and she realized he was pale, too – even more pale than Sarah.

"Ohhh, Charlie … let’s get you upstairs. You don’t look good at all."

She cupped his chin to get a better look, and he turned away, his red-rimmed eyes going back to the snack, his nose dripping red onto the plate.

"Did she already have hers?"

"What, baby?"

"Her snack."

"She just started, Charlie, why?"

"The man in the hat was just telling me this morning about how it would be funny if I put some mouse food in our snacks, then let her have some first. He said it would make her dizzy and silly and it would be fun. Then I could have some once I saw how much fun it was. I wasn’t sure but he said it would be okay."

"Charlie … where is the man in the hat?"

"He was right here, mama. He was whispering in my ear again right when you opened the cellar door."

She listened. She didn’t even have to look. The cellar wasn’t big enough to need to look around. All you have to do is listen to know if someone was there, and they weren’t. Not a man, not a man in a hat, not even a hat. J ust Charlie and her.

"Oh … honey …." She knew she had to move. She had to grab Charlie and run up the stairs to Sarah, but her legs didn’t seem to have any power.

"Mama .. ?"

"Charlie …?"

"I didn’t want to wait. I just put a little in the milk for our lunch, then I had more with the soda I brought down. I wanted to run up and surprise you and Sarah. Then I got real tired. I wanted to run up, but the man said you’d be down in a while for me and I could just wait here."

Charlie coughed and sneezed at the same time, and the trickle became a stream down his face.

She knocked the cookies and milk off the desk trying to pick him up, his body like a big cold noodle. The cup rolled over to the shelves and stopped right next to an opened box of rat poison, a little drawing of a mouse in a fedora and trench coat on the front.

Mouse food.

The man in the hat.

She hoisted him from the desk like a man grappling an exhausted marlin & turned toward the steps.

The wind shook the door and the rake tumbled down the stairs.

The light narrowed and everything was black.

[ddrkirbyisq]

Originally posted on the TGC forums here. A big thank you to raisin for organizing the 5th anniversary Journey event, and also for meeting me out on the sands! This was my 12th Journey, and the first time that I had done in quite some time!  I've shown a handful of people through the game, letting them play on my account, but I hadn't taken to the sands myself in a long while.  The event was in the middle of the work day for me, but I worked remotely and took a few hours of time out from working for the occasion.  No save reset for me (never done such a thing yet!), but I did cast off my white robe and went as a fully-embroidered red cloak. As a personal aside, I've been having some interesting times lately -- nothing too crazy happening as far as life goes, but I have definitely been feeling a bit "lost" and ungrounded.  The best way I can describe it is that it felt as if the universe was swirling around and moving about all around me, and I felt as though I did not "have" anything, did not have a foothold or a heading.  At the risk of delving a bit too deep into personal matters, I will say that I care very intensely about the past and often struggle with moving on or letting go.  These feelings were at the forefront of my mind as I set out for my Journey and I knew beforehand that my playthrough would be a good chance to reflect upon my life's Journey as well. I leaped off the BB right on the dot at the start of the event and it wasn't long before I found a fellow red-clothed companion!  After some happy greetings and faceplanting it was clear that we were both excited to see each other and go play.  It wasn't until after my playthrough that I discovered that the reddie I had encountered was none other than raisin!  I had actually taken my 10th Journey through the sands together with raisin -- a wonderful and fun-filled experience that I recounted here, though we failed to walk through the light together, losing each other in the darkness as we ventured into the snow glitch and lost our way in the midst of the death march.  Reading that account again now really makes me smile -- you showed me so many wonderful things...playing with WMs, a breathtaking meditation plummet, new CB spots, and my first time coasting and doing a dry tower run.  I consider myself lucky to have been blessed with the opportunity to Journey with you again. It was here in the BB area that I started to realize just how long it had been since I had last taken to the sands -- it took me a bit to remember the exact position of the glyph on the left side in the cave area.  How embarrasing! xP  This was also the first time in a very long while that I had gone out in red.  My, what a different experience!  No longer could I speed across the ground easily, yet at the same time, it made it such a compelling reason to stay close by your side.  Nostalgic indeed. We went off to collect some glyphs, release some flyers, etc. and I decided to try my hand at the usual CB spot near the glyph on the right.  As I mentioned, I haven't done this in *forever* so I couldn't even remember whether I was supposed to continue to flap or not, and whether or not being too close to one another would throw us off.  Nonetheless I still managed to get a decent CB out of it somehow, though not nearly high enough to ascend to the end of the level.  It was after that that you chirped at me and motioned to try and get through the rock headbonk entrance to the glitch area.  My -- another spot where being in red really made things much more difficult!  You made it in first and I knew where you were trying to lead me, just had trouble pinpointing the exact spot.  Thank you for coming back out and assisting me some more -- eventually we both made it in, hooray!  Unfortunately we didn't have much luck climbing out of the sandfall, as I forget how that area behaves and being in red certainly didn't help.  Funnily enough last time that we tried to play around in that glitch it also led to, as you put it, "a comedy of misunderstandings" xD We had an unfortunate disconnect in the PD as your game decided to crash -- you were there with me one moment, then gone the next.  I wandered the desert on my own a bit, realizing that again, I had forgotten the relative locations of the landmarks that I knew were there somehow. ^^;  I had some nice times playing with the little scarf carpets, actually, as I bumbled about trying to find my way.  Eventually you managed to find me again!  Rejoice!  We went around collecting more glyphs and at one point took a brief break to practice our faceplant-jumping.  A skill that I have yet to fully master, but I was able to get one!  *chirp*  I also really enjoyed the little nook on the side edge of the structure that we walked along, pushing our heads down into the sand ^^  I've never seen anything like that!  Such fun to be shown these hidden corners of the game by another such as yourself :) We had some nice coasting in the PD as well...funny -- did you know that you are the only person I've ever coasted with?  We flew together above to the top of the structure and I was able to do my first beamdown, together with you!  What a magical feeling, floating down with such grace! We did not play for too long in the SC, or the rest stop area -- and I knew that I should not, either, having to eventually get back to work at some point.  We did try to get another beamdown at the dramatic drop area at the end of the level, but my attempts to sync up together with you were proving laughably difficult. xD In the UG you took me up in the jellyfish room to the glitch and I followed with some small amount of trepidation, not wanting to go too far into glitch-land.  Thankfully, you were an excellent and considerate leader and I felt secure the whole way through!  I'm really grateful for that :)  You showed me scaredy-cat WM like you did during our previous journey, and then we proceeded to the final slide down to the end of the level.  I know there are some interesting things that you can do for that slidedown but am not sure of any of them off the top of my head.  I decided to just fly as quickly as I could toward the bottom, beating the WMs by a mile, but when I looked back you were no longer there, and alas there was only one WM chasing me, not two.  I chirped in the darkness but alas, we had DCed and you were nowhere to be found.  I sat through the history lesson and said a brief hello to the two scarf ribbons on the right before moving onward alone to the tower. I met another reddie in the tower, one who may or may not have been on their first playthrough, and was acting rather aloof.  I did interact with them a bit, going through a majority of the tower together, but I realized during this that I did not really want another companion at this point.  My hopes of reuniting with raisin were slim at this point and I decided that I was in the mood for finishing my Journey alone and having some time to reflect on things, as well as appreciate the landscape itself. In the snow level I started to take my time, going along at my own pace, spending a little more time with the fallen carpet flyers than usual.  It was here that I met some more reddies -- one who made an unfortunate fall back down to the beginning of the level, and later on another one whom I crossed the WM field with, only to have him get caught by a WM and get hit.  They dusted on me immediately afterward, leaving me alone in the snow again. As always, I spent a while lingering at the warm lantern room, it being my favorite spot in the game.  This may seem silly to you, but I actually always thought that the lantern doesn't stay lit for very long, and always just deactivates itself after a set amount of time -- I think because I've always been through that area together with a companion and we deactivated it soon after.  To my surprise that wasn't the case, and I sat there in the lantern room for quite some time meditating in the warm orange glow, with the gentle lantern music cue playing against the rush of the wind outside.  It was actually a very very meaningful experience for me, knowing that I could hold this moment for as long as I wished, especially given the things I had been struggling with in life recently.  Having a comfortable, safe spot that I can stay in and preserve is very important to me as a person, and it is exactly for that reason that I feel so strongly about that room in the game.  As I do with life, I half considered just ending my Journey there, not wanting to move on from my restful place.  But the aforementioned reddie came by and I decided to follow them. After being dusted on, I was left to tackle the windy corridor and the final death march alone.  As always, the DM is an interesting experience -- I feel like it can conjure such wildly different feelings each time.  This time was unique in that I felt little will to continue onward to the mountain itself.  Of course, I continued to push onward, fulfilling the role I was meant to play, but I later realized that it was not the mountain ahead of me that I truly desired, but rather, the fun times spent together with raisin in the PD that I wanted to return to.  Having lost my connection to the past as well as my pull forward to the future, I found myself lost in an endless sea of white.  I already knew this in my own life, but having the elements depicted as concrete metaphors really brought it all together for me. I went through Paradise alone as well, but actually enjoyed it quite much.  It's been a while since playing in Paradise alone, and I think it really brings a new feel to the place, being able to spend more time alone with the gorgeous water, the little islands off to the sides of the main path, and hanging out with the whales as well.  Oh, how I loved playing with those whales!  I feel like I am usually too distracted by keeping up with and playing around with my companion to really say hi to them. I have been considering some concepts of Buddhism lately and trying to come to terms with the idea that we don't really "have anything" so to speak, that life is fleeting and it is not really possible to truly "preserve" anything, despite my strong ideals of hanging onto things.  "The cup is already broken", as they say.  As I crossed the threshold into the light, I watched my figure walk further and further into the distance, surrounded by the blank white nothingness, and for the first time I really, truly watched all the way, focusing on that tiny figure in the center of the screen as it faded until finally there was nothingness again.  I think I'll be reflecting on that image for a while. Thank you so much again, raisin, for organizing this event and for a wonderful time together (that unfortunately met a premature end).  It was really nice getting to know you in the sands for a time again and I found my Journey to be very theraputic as well.  Perhaps someday we'll actually get to walk into the light together ^^;