#all is well but my patience and remaining mental stability have vanished

[sunattacksthemoon]

Y'all wanna see what caused me a massive fucking panic attack?

[avas-inner-demons-are-babies]

Ohana

Ship: None (Though you may take implications as you please)

Summary: Leif has always insisted that he should be allowed to do things on his own. Well, now he’s on his own and honestly...he isn’t enjoying it. Perhaps a bit of new company can help him sort out his feelings. 

A/N: Hey everyone! World’s most confused college freshman here, bringing you another MID fic that took waaay to long to get typed up. Legitimately, this has been sitting in my Google Docs for months, just taunting me. But there’s been a little less stresso in my espresso lately, so I took time to actually make myself sit down and get it done. I may not ship Ava and Leif personally, but their dynamic is just *chefs kiss*. I’ll never get over that whole “If you promise not to kill me then I won’t leave you behind.” “You’re with me till you die” scene. It makes me feel things. But anyways, this is nearly 14 full pages in G-Docs, and I hope you can all enjoy!

A/N 2.0: So apparently one of the cons of staying up late to finish a fic is forgetting to attach the actual fic itself to the post. My bad guys, here she be. 

In his couple hundred years of living, Leif can proudly boast that he has done many, many things; some very common for Daemos of his age; others common to those much older than him; and there have even been a few select occasions when he has done things that even the most aged and experienced elders cannot ever claim to have done (getting exiled, befriending a prince, travelling dimensions to a world full of humans, befriending a human, living with a human, laughing with a human...the list seems to grow daily now).

However, out of all the various activities that he has taken part in throughout his life, he can safely say that people-watching has not been one of them. Back on Daemos, staring- like most other interactions, whether they be direct or otherwise- often resulted in battle; which, in turn, resulted in a lot of shouting and blood-shed. It was a silent show of disrespect and of challenge; and only idiots and warriors sought out battles willingly. And while the title of ‘warrior’ technically goes hand-in-hand with Leif’s recently earned place as a knight, the position is just that- recently earned. And despite what some may say, he is not an idiot. Considerate? Scholarly? Absolutely not. But street-smart and clever? Let’s just say he hadn’t become an infamous assassin by running solely off of reckless impulse and uneducated whims. But now, here on Earth, almost all of those skills have fallen into uselessness, and he can people-watch without any real concern for his life. 

And by the Gods is he watching.

He is watching and scanning and listening and praying. Praying for a familiar face. Listening for the sound of a high voice discussing things of no importance, or for a loud, bratty complaint about anything at all; for a gentle-but-stern reprimand laced with patience, or a subtly nervous acknowledgement of some strange discomfort; even for a soft-but-proud observation of something completely obvious. Scanning for a flash of hot pink eyes or a bobbing carrot-top head of hair or a giant amidst the crowd of short humans. Watching so intensely for all of these things that the rest of the world seems to have filtered down into a watery hum. 

To put it quite plainly, Leif is lost. Very lost in a very crowded place, with no idea where his group has vanished to or where he himself should (or even can) be. It had been fun at first; being able to do as he pleased; wandering wherever his whims decided to take him, stealing food from a group of small humans, kicking over trash cans, and just overall being a minor nuisance. But invigoration tends to fade very quickly  when one is travelling a lot of unfamiliar terrain, and as it goes, so too does energy. It doesn’t help that they’d been at this “music festival” -as Ava had called it- for quite some time before he’d broken away from her and the others, and admittedly, he is starting to feel the strain on his feet from all the walking. In addition, the ridiculously large gathering of humans that bustle around him is beginning to leave him overwhelmed. And on top of that…

  “...it’s starting to get cold” He pouts internally, suddenly rather grateful for the double-layered, long sleeve human shirt that Ava had gotten him. Ever since the Fall Festival, he’d noticed the air outside growing chillier by the day. It was starting to get to the point where their thoughtful human host unusually protective prisoner was considering going back to the Sacred Ma’all and obtaining them some “coats and hats and stuff”, to quote her specifically.

As a particularly nippy gust of winds arrives, lashing the tips of his ears as it dances through, he finds himself wishing desperately for these objects that he can not even properly picture.

Looking up at the sky, Leif can just make out the thin line of orange coating the horizon as the sun begins its lazy descent. Eyes narrowed, he decides to take a break. Plomping himself down on a nearby bench, he sighs, combing his fingers through his absolute mess of a mane. 

  “Ava promised.” He whispers, “She promised. They’ll be back. They have to come back.”

The city-dwelling regulars that skitter past him hardly spare a glance for the strange, mumbling man on the bench. It’s nothing they don’t already see on their daily commutes, and most would not blame them for their experienced silence. But Leif, who has no way of knowing what they know, takes their purposefully imposed ignorance as a personal offence. He feels segregated from their reality. Invisible.

Alone.

Leif hisses in a sharp breath as the word taunts him. Pressing his head into the palms of his hands, he represses a shudder. He should be used to this by now; being left to his own devices. How many times now has it been? How many betrayals and abandonments? Four? Five? More than one person should be able to count. He has been able to handle himself just fine before. So why now? Why now is he having such issues with finding his own way? He might call it ironic if he knew the meaning of the word.

  “It’s because you got used to the cushy life.” A small voice in the back on his thoughts croons, “You liked being chummy with the Prince and his guard dogs. You liked that there was always food at the ready, and that you never had to worry where you were sleeping next. You liked the stability. The safety. And in time, you even came to like the laziness that this new world allowed.”

  “That’s not true!” Leif barks back, not realizing how loud the proclamation was until several humans passing by wince and stumble as their paces quicken. He is sure to lower his voice as he continues to mumble to himself, “I can still take care of myself. I haven’t gone soft. I can do this.”

Taking in a long deep breath, he steels his will against the unpleasant thoughts racing around in his head. He bows his head and closes his eyes. When he opens them again a few ticks later, there’s a clear change. They’re collected. Focused.

  “Yeah. Yeah, I can do this.” He reassures himself, feeling some of that original vamped-up feeling return, “I’m a Daemos dammit! I don’t need some human to hold my hand! I’ll find my own way home! And then.-then I’ll kill them! I’ll kill them for leaving me!”

The mental pep talk does great things for Leif. Now enraged and brimming with confidence, breathing heavily and nearly quaking with the emotion of it all, he puts on a sneer and glares out into the crowd. His fingers flex as he summons forth his sickles, ready to swing them out at any unfortunate soul that crosses his path. He stands, his knuckles white around their hilts. The dying sunlight has no effect on him anymore. His goal is apparent in his mind. He is prepared. Determined. 

He takes one strong, bold step forward…

...and is subsequently swept off his feet by the force of a group of teens pushing past him.

Nearly losing his balance, Leif’s arms flail in an attempt to regain his balance, and he immediately bumps into a young couple. As they turn on him with vicious glares, he steps away from them. Disorientation takes this chance to rush through his system. As he fumbles about, one of his sickles manages to catch on the shirt of a small child toddling by with his mother. Leif jerks one direction while the boy jerks in the other. A shirt sleeve tears, and the little one goes sprawling to the ground. An ear-piercing shriek explodes from tiny lungs. All heads turn in their direction. Wide-eyed Leif throws away his weapons and presses his hands against his sensitive ears. While staggering away from all the attention, he runs into yet another man who- being caught completely off guard- falls back into someone behind him. As the domino effect continues, the noise and panic cause the poor Daemos to go into full flight mode. Gritting his teeth, he gathers just enough control to take a flying leap over the top of the completely bewildered mob. He lands back near the bench and grasps it tightly to keep himself from falling to his knees. As he takes a seat once more, the humans are all glancing around and shouting at each other in offense. The child continues crying.

Thoroughly defeated, Leif allows his head to fall back as he slumps down into the wooden comfort. Then, he lifts it back up only to cradle it in his hands. The unwelcome tears brought on by pure fear sting at the corners of his eyes. Releasing a shaky sigh, he finally gives into the thought that he has so far been refusing to voice. 

  “I’m doomed.”

***

Soaring high above the head of one particularly shaken Daemos, a careless pigeon makes its way around the festival with ease. Drifting aloof above the sea of hundreds of singing and laughing humans, it follows the breeze along the street and down towards one particular block, where a vendor has been handing out pretzels. And at this moment, it just so happens that a young woman, with flowing dark hair and vibrant pink eyes, has just dropped the remaining half of her salted treat on the ground. The pigeon is quick to join several of its other brethren in tearing at the free meal to pieces, completely unaware that shock is what delivered this wonderful treat to them. Although, they learn very soon after, as said young woman lets off a loud, horrified shout. Grey feathers go flying as the band disperses in a threatened rush. 

The group of men trailing behind the woman jerk in surprise.

  “Princess Ava? What’s wrong?” The youngest, a concerned looking redhead, calls out. 

Ava stares at her companions with a feverish look. Pointing at each of them individually, the others can hear her counting them, over and over again.

  “One, two, three, four...two, three, four...three, four, four, four! Why are there only four of you!” Her voice raises in both pitch and volume, “Where’s Leif?!”

Her words seem to settle with them all at the exact same time. The tallest of the bunch, Pierce, begins flickering his gaze from face to face, searching for the former-assassin in the horde of people around them. Rhys, Noi, and Asch all turn off in different directions, then come back and share a look. They all focus on Ava, who has turned to the ground with guilt-ridden eyes. 

  “How could I...he was just with us not too long ago, right? Right?” Her frantic question is only met with uncertain silence from her companions. Rhys goes as far as to look away, nibbling on his ice pop, “Oh God. We have to find him! Leif!”

Ava begins pushing her way through the crowd, crying out to her missing friend. The boys stick to her like frightened ducklings as they mimic her steps. Their screams rise above the swell of music and voices. 

  “Leif, where are you!”

***

As his friends begin their desperate hunt a few streets away, Leif finds himself aimlessly ambling along through the park. He has discovered that there are less people back within these tree-sheltered pathways and he is grateful for it. He is on the hunt for something, although if he were asked he would not be able to say exactly what. Shelter? Company perhaps? A sign pointing home would be nice, but he can’t really read all that well, and he doubts that there is one around regardless. For a natural-born hunter, he certainly does have an awful sense of direction.

His fingers tap against his thigh as he walks. On occasion, he mumbles curses at himself for getting stuck in this situation. The night sky is clear and bright, and more than once he finds himself staring up at it, feeling as though the stars are laughing at his plight. Gaining a little comfort in the embrace of the shadows, he sticks to them, glancing over every now and again to see a straggling human stroll by. He passes the fountain where he and Ava had encountered the threatening ‘clique’;passes a large stone statue of some long-dead human frozen in time; passes what looks to be a small garden area, where brightly colored flowers glow in the moonlight. 

Eventually, Leif reaches an area that he first assumes to be abandoned. The quiet and empty wrap around him like a blanket. His only company seems to be the soft glow from the scattered lampposts. The peace here cradles him in its arms and promises him safety. He’s almost relaxed, resigning to spend the night in whatever tree provides the most cover and warmth, when suddenly-

  “Heya there compadre.”

Leif startles back several feet and does a neat little twirl to face the direction of the slow and kindly voice that had called out to him. How he had missed the strange human before him in his first look around is beyond Leif, but he certainly sees the man now. He sits leaning against the nearest tree with an air of remiss and a smile on his face. Upon seeing Leif’s reaction to his greeting, he puts his hands up in reassurance

  “Hwoa there! Didn’t mean to startle ya friend. Just couldn’t help but notice that you were lookin’ a tad lost.” 

  “We’re not friends.” Leif interjects so instinctively that he nearly cuts the stranger off. Then, catching his own tongue before he says anything truly offensive, he reroutes with, “But...yeah, I am lost. I got seperated from my group a while ago and haven’t been able to find them since. And I’m not very familiar with your kingdom yet, so I can’t just go back home.”

Thanks to the poor lighting between them, the Daemos misses how the stranger’s eyebrows quirk a little at his self-correction (and yet not the use of ‘kingdom’?). But as he makes his way over to this new human, Leif does begin to take in the man’s overall messy and unkempt appearance. His long, auburn hair is wrapped up into an extremely makeshift ponytail, the length of which surpasses even that of Pierce’s or Ava’s. The many rebellious strands held back out of his face by a thick, green fabric headband that’s stretched across his forehead. It must have been made to match the long, tassled poncho that he wears, their colors the same. Beneath it, he only seems to have a miserably stained grey shirt, and pants so baggy that Leif can not imagine them being comfortable. His skin, which at first appeared to simply be naturally dark, is actually merely a deceptive tan which highlights every freckle, scar, and wrinkle. Leif is sure that if he were to touch the stranger, he might have an almost leathery feel to him. Teeth no whiter than a well-worn paperback fill in a broad smile that brings to life the creases around the edges of both the stanger’s lips and eyes. Eyes that are brown like a healthy farm soil, and seem to hold a level of spirit and life that Leif can never recall having seen in any other person before. It’s unfiltered blatancy is surprising to him.

  “Well ahh, what’cha waitin’ for?” The stranger suddenly picks up the conversation, scooching slightly to the right and patting the ground beside him, “Come’n take a seat. We can vibe while the universe carries the train of life down its long tracks.”

Leif hesitates. The human before him might be a stranger, but he emits an image that reminds the Daemos of the forest spirits that could be found back in his own world. The Earth seems comfortable around him. If one squinted, it would almost seem as though the tree’s trunk and roots had warped to form a throne around him.

  “He seems like a powerful sage. I should stay. Maybe he can help me.”

Nodding to himself more so than the man, Leif takes his place on the grass. This results in a wide, toothy grin on behalf of his companion, and being so close now, Leif is able to notice how one of his canines is missing.

  “Joyous day! You’ll be the first bit of company I’ve had in a long time my fellow wanderer. Say now, what’s your name?” 

  “They call me Leif.”

  “Leaf? The name of a freelancer. A young man born for travel and change. A soul that dances in the wind, its colors ever uncertain.” The man’s smile softens and his eyes stare off in Leif’s general direction, and yet seem to be staring at something miles away, “You and I, I’m sure we’re the same. I’ve had many a name myself, but most around here know me as Jingle. It’s a pleasure to meet’cha.”

Jingle holds out a hand and they shake. Leif has seen this done enough times on the tee-vee to be able to properly pull it off, even if he doesn’t quite understand the significance. Then, glancing over his shoulder, Jingle proceeds to reach back and pull, from behind the tree, a forgeign looking object. 

The thing is clearly made from some kind of light and polished earth wood. Its beige surface has been very delicately carved with a swirling, wave like pattern that decorated almost the entirety of its pear shaped body. A large round hole rests a little ways above the bottom. Stretched taut up its middle and along the long arm protruding from the top are six silver strings, wrapped at both ends around small metal nubs. At the head of the arm are six knobs all turned in various directions. None of the silver pieces shine, and in fact seem quite well worn. Nearly all of the impressive wood surface is riddled with scratches.

Jingle positions the thing against his chest. 

  “What is that?” Leif asks, eyeing it with unease.

  “This here is my trusty guitar Taylor. I know she isn’t much compared to those clunky metal demons they’re selling out there-” Here, he nods his head out in the direction of the still-ongoing festival, “-but she does me just fine. So long as I keep her pretty, she sings like an angel.”

  “It...sings?”

  “As sweet and humble a tune as you might ever hear. Here, have a listen.”

With his nimble fingers already poised to play, Jingle wastes no time in coaxing a tune out from the air. From the first pluck of a string, Leif finds himself utterly enraptured. Each swift movement of the human’s hand brings forth another new wave of sound so soft and breathtaking that the Daemos doesn’t even know how to process it. It is as if Jingle’s soul is completely in tune with the instrument in his grasp. Leif sits stunned, feeling the music tempt his very heart and bring prickles to his skin. A minute passes, and he soon finds himself lying completely relaxed against the tree trunk, eyes closed, and merely absorbing.

Jingle plays for some time, and for that time the two are in their own universe. It is very dark now, and Leif can feel his mind just starting to slip off in unconsciousness. His body is heavy. Connected to the very grass he sits upon by an unnamable force that he chooses to call exhaustion. When his company eventually brings the song to an end, it takes Leif a few moments to reconnect with reality. Green eyes blink several times, and turn to find that Jingle is already watching for his reaction.

  “That was amazing.” Leif breathes in as soft a tone as he’s capable of.

  “Jus’ like I told ya. Voice of an angel.” Jingle hums, parroting his earlier words. He shifts to place Taylor on the ground beside him. When he turns back, he finds Leif staring into the space above them with a small frown on his face, “My friend, what troubles you? The world weighs heavy on your shoulders tonight.”

  “I’m not sure. I just…” Leif trails off, searching within himself for an explanation for the crushing weight in his chest, “I think I miss my friends. I keep wanting them to be here, but they probably already left. I don’t think they’re coming back for me.”

They sit quietly for a few minutes. Jingle peers off down the park path. Leif clears his throat in a battle against the tight feeling that fills it. He jumps when a gentle hand lands on his shoulder. 

  “Lighten your soul wanderer Leif. Everyone leaves sooner or later, but just because they’ve left doesn’t mean they are gone. Pray tell, what doubts whisper in your ear tonight?”

  “Eh?”

  “Why do you assume so quickly that your friends won’t return to you?”

  “Oh. The way you talk is really weird, you know that?”

The human man only smiles at him, patience and expectancy in his eyes. He makes a light gesture with his hand, urging Leif to continue. And after several seconds, he does with a tamed sigh. 

  “I’ve had a lot of people tell me that I cause more trouble than I’m worth.” The simple admission seems to close a giant force around his ribs. As it squeezes painfully, he finds himself emptying more words than he ever knew he had been filling up with, “I know I tend to go overboard most of the time, but I never- no, I guess just lately- I mean, I haven’t been meaning to cause problems recently. Everything is just so...so calm here, and I don’t know how to live like that. Back on- I mean, back where I’m from, peace and quiet always meant something was wrong, and we hardly go anywhere or do anything, and I just get so bored! I hate just sitting around and doing nothing, but it seems like that’s all the others want to do anymore. And I know I could probably just go out for a while on my own and burn some energy but your world is so big and I just...I don’t want to end up on my own again.”

He gives a forced and pitiful huff of laughter.

  “Although I guess it’s too late for that now. I’m sure they probably already went home and forgot about me. They’re probably relieved to get rid of me.”

Leif hadn’t meant to let that flooding fear leak into his words. Or that harsh scratchiness of his throat, which left breaks in his sentences. The uncomfortable rhythm of his heart and the mild shaking must be showing through as well now. It makes no sense to him. He’s only felt this terrified once before- the day they had lost Ava at the Fall Festival. And although the circumstances now are similar, he can not imagine what it is about this strange human that seems to make those insecurities rise up in ten-folds. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t have the others with him now. Maybe it’s because he really has no idea where to go from here.

The panic had set on him so fast the Leif didn’t properly notice it until it was being chased away by the strong and defendant strums of a guitar. The first twang brought him to a jerking halt at first. But as the singing notes continued, his mind returned to the harmless reality. He came back to find himself looking at the stars. 

Jingle- as if noticing Leif’s inner plight- had picked up Taylor once again.

  “It is not so easy to forget one’s friends.” He murmurs as he plays, “Do not so swiftly dismiss your own worth my snowy-haired partner. If the universe truly believes you were meant to be with these people you seek, then it will surely guide them back to you. And it sounds to me that affection has already been allowed to roost deep in your soul.”

The younger has nothing to say to that. He only closes his eyes, breathes deeply, and nods. Drawing his knees to his chest, he crosses his arms and lies down his head. All these new emotions are exhausting.

***

Ava slumps down against the frigid stone of the fountain, pulling her knees up and hiding her face in them. 

  “I can’t believe this.” The muffled moan that escapes her is full of pain, “How could I lose him? What kind of friend am I? God, he probably thinks we abandoned him.”

  “I don’t get what you’re so worried about.” Asch harrumphs, doing a single lap around the structure before taking a seat on its edge, “We haven’t encountered anything dangerous since we’ve been here on Earth. Leif can take care of himself for one night. Why can’t we just go home? It’s cold out here and I’m tired!”

Despite his childish whining, he at least has the decency to look sheepish when she turns to glare at him.

  “Well if that’s the case Asch, why don’t we just leave you out here tonight? You’re always going on about how you’re so much better than Leif anyways, so if he can make it out here on his own, then clearly you can too.” During her short reprimand, Ava stands and crosses the few steps between them. Her eyes hold a level of rage that the Daemos can never recall having seen on her before. And despite the fact that he could easily beat her in a confrontation- physical or verbal- he feels himself shrinking in shame before her petite frame.

With a satisfied huff, Ava walks several paces away. In the short time it takes her to regain her composure, her anger morphs instantly into guilt. Her posture slumps as she glances back at Asch, whose hurt expression is turned towards the concrete.

  “I’m...I’m sorry Asch.” She sighs, “I didn’t mean that.”

  “I know.” Comes the humbled response from behind her.

  “I’m just really worried about him.”

  “I know.”

The next few minutes are shared in silence. The other three Daemos choose not to express a word on the exchange just yet, only shuffling about in their own thoughts. There is a level of complete loss between them. No one wants to leave Leif behind-- but Asch isn’t the only one whose focus and determination is beginning to wane.

A particularly nippy breeze blows through, causing Ava’s already shaking body to jitter violently. In a second Pierce seems to simply materialize beside her and pull her sniffling form into a warming embrace. 

  “Perhaps Prince Asch is right. We should go for now.” He suggests quietly as she leans into him.

  “But Leif-”

  “-Will be easier to find tomorrow when it is light out.” Rhys jumps in, “We are all concerned Princess Ava, but Asch does have a point. It is unlikely that Leif has found himself in any sort of real danger, and even if he has, he is a trained warrior. None of us are suggesting we abandon our search completely, but we are all at our limits. Even if we were to find Leif tonight, at this rate we may all end up sick by the morning. Please, we will follow you no matter your choice, but think reasonably.”

There’s a gentle hint of pleading in his voice that prevents Ava from denying his claims outright. She looks between all of them in turn, searching desperately for some counterargument that never comes to rise. It doesn’t take long before she finally lets herself really take in the heaviness of her own body; the stinging left in her feet from walking for so long; the need to close her eyes and rest that is becoming harder and harder to fight away. The boys watch with patience as her mind wears itself down, and they don’t miss the surrender that wins over her stature. There’s a quiet breath, then:

  “...fine. Let’s just go home.”

Dear reader, have you ever managed to convince someone you love to do something they don’t want to, only to be hit with a horrible wave of guilt when they give in and agree to go through with it? Have you ever wished you could travel back in time just a few minutes, if only to stop yourself from being so damn persistent? If so, then maybe you can imagine how the Daemos boys feel at this point in time. The deep disappointment they observe in Ava’s eyes as she pulls herself from Pierce’s arms is enough to make their very souls wince. Three sets of eyes meet as their minds change almost unanimously, and Rhys can tell the other two are waiting for him to come up with some sort of clever escape. And being the man he is, he complies.

  “Well, ah-just a moment Princess Ava. We...we haven’t heard from Noi yet! A decision such as this should be agreed upon by everyone present, yes? And perhaps if he believes we should stay out. Noi?”

Rhys shifts, hoping to prompt Noi into insisting that they stay. But the younger Daemos- who has been noticeably absent from the entire conversation- doesn’t appear to have even noticed his name being called. In fact, he likely missed the discussion as a whole, seeing as how he stares off down one of the darkness-swallowed paths with fully focused attention. His amber eyes sparkle with wonder. In listening closely, one may have heard him humming.

Debate temporarily forgotten, Ava and the rest focus on him with quirked eyebrows and tilted heads. 

  “Uhh...Noi?” Asch beacons tentatively.

  “Do you hear it?” Noi whispers in response, to all of them and yet no one in particular.

  “Hear what?” Ava asks, frowning, “I don’t hear anything.”

Pierce steps forward and rests his chin atop her head.

  “I hear it.”

  “Me too.” Asch adds after a moment.

  “Me as well.”

  “Wait, seriously, what are you guys hearing? It’s just quiet for me.”

  “It’s music.” Rhys says, “Different from what the humans at the festival were playing. It’s quieter.”

  “Softer.” Pierce adds, and the scholar nods.

  “Earlier there were voices too.” Noi finishes. 

  “Wait, voices? But who else would be out this la-” Ava’s eyes spark up wide. Before the guys can even hit the same realization she has, she’s already gone; taking off with flying feet and a new swarm of adrenaline buzzing through her veins. “LEIF!”

  “Princess Ava!” A chorus of Daemos voices rise up through the night, and they sprint, one after the other, along her trail. Her voice bounces off the surveying trees.

  “Leif!”

***

  “Leif!” 

Two men sitting beneath a canvas on moonlit leaves jerk their heads up in unison. The elder lowers his guitar and puts on a muted, knowing smile. The younger goes tense as he strains his ears for the echoes of the voice that had rushed at them in the night. His green eyes go wide as can be, quite literally glowing with hope. He places one, prepared hand on the ground…

  “Leif!”

Springing to his feet faster than should be natural, he runs only a few paces forward. 

  “Ava?” He breathes. The sound of rushing feet pouding closer out of the darkness causes him to gasp and with the new air in his lungs he shouts out, “Ava! Ava, I’m here!”

Leif steps into the light just as his human friend barges into its threshold. He’s tossed off his already imbalanced feet as she tumbles with a football-tackle force into him. They go down together onto the rocky ground. Ava clings desperately to his shirt, as if afraid he will vanish into thin air at the impact. Before either have fully taken to their jarring landing, he finds her burying her face into his neck, sobbing almost hysterically with relief. Her sporadic hiccups seem to be contagious, and for the first time since quite possibly his toddler days, he finds himself holding onto another person like a lifeline and shedding tears that he hardly cares if others see. 

  “I’m so sorry.” Ava manages through uncontrollable gasps, “I’m so, so sorry Leif.-”

  “It wasn’t your fault, I’m-”

  “-I didn’t mean to leave you. I just turned around and you were gone and-”

  “-the one who walked off. I’m an idiot for thinking-”

  “-we looked everywhere for you! We almost went home-

  “-I got so lost without you-”

  “-I didn’t want to, but Noi heard you and I’m just-”

  “-I’m just-”

  “-So happy you’re back.”

The unorganized scrambling over each other’s apologies ends with synchronization. Still sniffling, Ava lifts her head from his shoulder and meets his gaze. There’s a pause. Then broad, toothy smiles replace quivering frowns, and their foreheads press together as they share a laugh. 

It’s around this time that the other four Daemos reach their position, only to find their newly reunited friends on the ground, trying to hold back bursts of giggles. The picture absolutely throws them. More so because of Leif’s bubbly demeanor than Ava’s, though both are certainly a sight to behold-- with tousled hair and dusty clothes, goosebump rippled skin now detailed with red marks where they had slid against the concrete. And yet the two grin and carry on in that way that can only be done after one’s stress-forced sense has left them, their cares evaporating into thin air. Earth truly must be turning them soft, because the once strict and stone-cold warriors- upon surveying the scene- give genuine smiles of their own.

It takes a little bit of time before the pair actually settle down enough to sort themselves out and stand once again. Even then, Ava makes sure to link her arm with his, swearing inwardly to never let him out of her sights again. Leif on the other hand, does his best to recollect himself, not wanting to give the others any more reason to pester him later about the blatant displays of emotion. He hides his flushed face in his sleeve, pretending to wipe a smear of dirt off his face.

  ‘It’s nice to see you again.” Rhys says with only a hint of scolding behind his words, “Though if you ever run off like that again, you’re finding your own way home.”

  “That’s fair.” Leif replies with a shrug of his shoulders. He doesn’t miss how Ava studies his reaction from the corner of her eye.

  “Did you miiiss us?” Asch drawls mockingly, stepping forward with a smirk on his face. Despite the remark, he gives Leif a friendly knock on the shoulder- a habit he’d unknowingly picked up a few weeks ago.

Leif only scoffs, but it tells them all they really need to know. He looks downwards briefly and mumbles something that only the young Prince seems able to hear. Asch blinks in recoil, then replaces his cheeky grin.

  “What was that?” He asks incentively, “I don’t think we all heard you.”

Leif growls a low growl.

  “I said-ugh-thanks for...looking for me.” Then, adding on more softly, “It’s nice to know you guys actually cared enough to find me.”

  “Well duh.” Ava’s response causes him to lift his head in her direction, “I made you a promise didn’t I?”

His mind flashes back to that day they were shopping for decorations. He’d almost convinced himself it was a dream.

  “Yeah. I guess you did.”

  “Besides-!” Suddenly, Noi appears in front of him, beaming in the friendly boyish way that used to get him mocked back on Daemos, “You’re one of us! No man left behind, right?”

  “I-”

  “Exactly.” Rhys cuts him off in affirmation, “Despite your chaotic personality and violent tendencies, you are still an important part of our group.”

  “You-”

  “Yeah.” Asch sighs, carefully selecting his next few words, “I’m not sure where we’d be without our healer honestly. And...I will admit that you’re the only one here who’s any fun to spar with.”

  “Yes.” Finally, Pierce, “It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

As Leif gapes at all of his friends in turn, something new solidifies within him. See, when Asch had saved him from execution all those years ago, the Prince had earned his life. And with that, over time, there came undying loyalty. But it was always saved for Asch alone. The others had been tolerable companions at most, at least until they got to Earth. 

Then came along Ava, who unintentionally became their focal point. She was important to him- to all of them. But he wouldn’t have died for her. Not at the start. That problem arose when she became fond of them, and they- in turn- of her. It only took a couple weeks after Leif had admitted to himself that she was actually rather preferable company, that he seemed to swear away to her the same things he had gifted Asch. His life. His loyalty. Fresh off the line went his affection as well. And although at this point, he was close to the other Daemos, he still felt separate. A product of his own mind and the upbringing that was so very different from their own.

It’s taken until now for that last link to click into place. That camaraderie which he’d been lacking now swarms through his morals and rearranges itself among those mental pieces. He feels some of his outlooks shifting. Most importantly, a single, powerful thought plants itself in his mind and takes root.

  “They want me.”

His chest swelling, the most Leif can manage is, “Thank you.”

The sound of quiet shuffling a few feet away accidentally breaks through the touching moment. The emotional bunch all turn their attention to a man standing like a startled cat beneath a nearby tree. Clearly, he had meant to scuttle away unnoticed.

  “Who is he?” Noi asks.

  “Oh that’s  Jingle.” Leif tips his head in the direction of the musical man, who has gathered his meager belongings in his arms. At the mention of his name, he winces slightly and gives a wave, “He’s been letting me sit with him. He's pretty cool for a human. The way he talks is weird though.”

Now, Ava, the Earth and city specialist of the group, immediately recognizes Leif’s apparent companion as a member of a nomadic homeless community that had just taken its annual place in one of the far back corners of the park. She’d never spoken to the man in true conversation, but she can recall exchanging a few words with him last year after she’d heard him playing the exact same guitar he now cradles to his chest. He had an impressive talent that convinced her to deliver him several dollar bills and whatever meager change she managed to hold onto after her sparse commutes to the mall or grocery store. She can vouch for the fact that he does say some fairly strange things on occasion. However…

  “Hey, you’re that chill guitar man I met last year.” She says, hoping to spark some comfort in his cautious air, “Have you really been hanging out with Leif this whole time?”

Jingle nods, shifting into a more permanent stance.

  “You didn’t have to do that. But I’m thankful that you did.” She smiles warmly, “Honestly, I was worried he might have gotten himself into trouble.”

  “It was no problem young miss.” Jingle makes the effort to reply, “I’d seen you all together early in the day, and happened to catch my fellow wanderer out on his own. He looked like he could use someone to hold him steady until his world righted itself again.”

  “Ah...yeah. I don’t doubt that he did.” Digging into her pockets, Ava pulls out five dollars- the sole remnants of cash that was pretty much all spent on food, “Here, please take this. It isn’t nearly as much as you deserve, but it’s all I have.”

The older human steps forward to accept the money from her outstretched hand with a grateful expression. Immediately after pocketing it, he spins back around in the other direction and walks away into the night. Ava silently determines to continue her tradition from before if she can manage to find him again in the coming weeks. But before any of that-

  “Come on you guys. Let’s get home.”

[laceymorganwrites]

Rag Doll

Word Count: 3,705

Pairing: Akutagawa x reader

Warnings: swearing i guess

A/N: i love this edgy Boy, don´t think i wrote him well tho...

(Y/E/O/N) = your enemy´s organization´s name

The headquarters of the Port Mafia illuminated the city of Yokohama, keeping control over it in its central location. Being an organization of this size and importance could be stressful at times, especially if certain members were to go on their own all the time. But in the end they fulfilled their missions and kept everything how it should be. Missions could be tiring however and even the Port Mafia needed to rest and relax sometimes.

If one were to turn in a little corner by the train station, they were to encounter a certain bar, the Rag Doll. It wasn´t just an ordinary bar, oh no, it was the base of an underground information gathering organization that had close ties to the Mafia and worked together with the major organization.

The organization was led by none other than (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Being a former soldier and spy for several organizations you were sick of following orders and fighting for a cause you didn´t believe in.

It did have its perks working in a bar visited by infamous criminals who were dependent on you, such as gossip and protection.

Oh and the poor souls who entered the bar on this very night…

“Could you spare some chlorine?” Dazai asked with gleaming eyes, making you roll your eyes.

“Didn´t you want to die without being a burden to anyone? What kind of image would my bar have if people heard I served chlorine? I have normal costumers too, believe it or not” you scolded the brunet, crossing your arms and shaking your head. Dazai squinted his eyes. “You´re not making this easy for me...” he mumbled.

“People like you don´t deserve an easy death, that´d be quite anticlimactic now, wouldn´t it?” you giggled, having known Dazai quite a while throughout your carrier of changing carriers so often.

Dazai smirked. “I guess you´re right...” he gave in and you placed a glass of whiskey before him.

He stared at it lost in his thoughts while you served the other costumers, meanwhile learning new info on several enemy organizations from your colleagues. “(Y/E/O/N), huh? They´ve been a pain for quite a while now actually...” you thought out loud.

As you stepped in front of Dazai again, his face lit up. “So you´ve been having trouble with them too?” he asked, a suggestive undertone in his voice. You rolled your eyes but couldn´t help but smile. “Wanna team up?” you finally asked… but didn´t get the reaction you anticipated.

“Maybe you can teach my subordinate how not to be a complete failure” he chuckled.

Your happy expression changed into a stone cold one. “He´s just a kid, Dazai” you said through gritted teeth. “He´s not that much younger than me, you know? And yet… he´s just too… unstable” he said in a disgusted voice, it enraged you. “As if you´re one to talk about mental stability! He´s from the slums, you have to understand how hard it must be for him… but instead you just had to make him a perfect weapon, a soldier… you disgust me, Dazai” maybe Akutagawa´s situation made you this emotional because he reminded you of himself, ripped out of a shitty environment, forced to work in a worse one. He didn´t have a chance to choose, he didn´t even have a say in it. You sure pitied the kid. “Do you know how dangerous he would be with an ability like this if I didn´t raise him right? He´s far too uncontrolled with his ability to let him out of my sight” Dazai defended himself, but you weren´t going to give in that easily. “Don´t give me that crap, Dazai! If you would actually have some decency and kindness, hell patience would be enough! If you keep treating him like you do, he´s gonna grow up feeling like a worthless piece of shit. You know, I´m really asking myself why you saved him when you couldn´t care less. People like you shouldn´t be put in charge of people like him!” you glared at him. Dazai just tilted his head, chuckling.

“You seem to care very much about him” he noticed.

You started cleaning the counter, grunting at his comment. “Maybe it´s just because unlike you I´m a decent fucking person” you grumbled.

“I doubt that...you´re a master at your craft after all, and that is deceiving people. But I have to give it to you, nobody does it quite like you” he sighed dreamily.

You clenched your jaw and stared him down. “Why thank you” you chuckled bitterly.

He knew damn well why you did the things you did, it was out of the need for money and because you were forced, to be fair you did it because you liked it now but that was a different story.

Dazai stared at you for a while with an amused expression on his face while you still held your cold one. “Well, that was a fun night. I´ll see you tomorrow” Dazai put down the money for the drink on the counter and left the bar, leaving you with a headache.

When you arrived to work in the next morning Dazai and Akutagawa were already there.

“Good morning, (Y/N)” Dazai smiled at you, but you didn´t respond. Instead you checked in on your coworkers and caught up on the information needed for the mission.

“As you all should know by now, today is the day we raid (Y/E/O/N)´s base and attack them! We will crush them, I don´t accept failure today. This is too important. Alright everybody, commence your positions and don´t die on me, we´re already short staffed. Good luck, guys, see you in the evening” you gave a little pep talk and were about to get ready for your part of the job as well.

That was when you remembered Dazai and his subordinate were still there. “You´re still here? Don´t you have your own plan on taking them out? Starting a massacre or something?” you teased to which Dazai scoffed.

“I wish you were wrong… most of us follow the plan you assigned to us, but we do have our little troublemakers” he shot a glare at Akutagawa who clenched his jaw.

“Okay then, why are you still sitting around here? Don´t you have something useful to do? Come on, Dazai, you must have planned some wicked scheme” you placed your hand on his shoulder. He just chuckled. “Maybe I do… but more importantly, could you take care of my subordinate today. I can´t risk him screwing up again” he muttered, making you frown.

“Don´t give them any trouble and follow their orders, do you understand?” Dazai turned to Akutagawa. He nodded, still not looking up.

You sighed. “I´m getting dressed, Dazai, explain the plan to him, I´ll be right back” you rushed into the backroom and put on the clothes you picked out for the mission.

(Y/E/O/N) was known for holding illegal auctions and you planned on infiltrating one and destroying them from the inside.

After you joined them again, Dazai left you alone.

“It´s nice to finally meet you, Akutagawa” you told him. “I heard very much about you. And before we begin I need you to know that you´re not a failure. I know that we will succeed. You just have to trust in your own strength, because others won´t always be there to do so” you said, but didn´t get any reaction out of him.

“The weak don´t have a right to live” he replied like a mantra.

You frowned, slowly placing a hand on his shoulder. He shuddered at the contact but let your hand remain.

“But you´re not weak…” you reassured him.

His eye twitched at your words but you paid it no mind.

He irritated you, of course you got why he would have such a mindset, growing up in his environment it was only natural. But being saved from such circumstances one ought to be utterly traumatized, grateful to their savior. Normally such Darwinism should vanish from his thoughts, so why was it that he still strove to be the strongest? As if he wasn´t worth being alive otherwise.

Dazai must´ve fucked him up worse than the slums, you thought.

“You´re under no obligation to prove anything to anyone” you told him in all honesty.

“I know. Let´s finish the mission” he said through clenched teeth, apparently you hit a nerve.

In silence you walked to the location and infiltrated it successfully.

“Secure the entrances, make sure nobody can leave. There´s gonna be a massacre here shortly, it would be a shame if anybody missed it” you smirked, distracting people while Akutagawa imprisoned the people.

“Now that was easy, let´s get to the fun part, shall we?” you smiled and started slicing people up with the knives hidden in your clothes.

Akutagawa joined you with his Rashomon and you finished the mission in short time.

Your colleagues would clean up later.

You had a few hours before you had to head back to work so you went home to relax a bit. Akutagawa was gone before you could even say goodbye.

Somehow you felt as if you screwed up, you´d never get to know him now.

But who could blame him? The act of surviving that was his life so far couldn´t be called living, he merely existed, it was easier with thick walls all around him. It was easier if he didn´t let anybody in.

Hell, it even made sense, so why were you so glum about it?

Why was it that you cared so much about him? Why did you want to understand him so badly? You never wanted to be the person to fix other people and force them to face their problems but why did you feel like that was who you were right now?

In the course of the next weeks you ran into Dazai and Akutagawa multiple times, the Mafia and your organization worked close together very often nowadays.

Akutagawa still was distant towards you, not even looking at you while doing missions together.

Your current target was Mimic, Dazai and his friends were involved very closely.

After researching their base and handing the information over to the Mafia you considered your job done and in the evening you wandered through the city, not feeling tired at all.

Something was keeping you awake.

Well, you still couldn´t wrap your head around Akutagawa, but that was silly.

You walked to your favorite spot in the hills where you had a beautiful view of the city.

Sighing you sat down on the bench and stared at the city lights that gleamed in the night sky.

“Dazai-san partnered us up for the mission tomorrow” you didn´t even hear him coming.

Staying in your position, now forcing yourself to look straight ahead and not at him, you nodded.

“Beautiful, isn´t it?” you mumbled, talking about the view.

Akutagawa nodded, thinking about you.

“Dazai must really hate you, huh?” you chuckled, finally looking up to him with sad eyes.

He frowned. “Why?” he asked, stalking closer to you, eventually sitting next to you on the bench.

“Come on, every time we have a mission, we get paired up. Because Dazai´s twisted like that, you know?” you shook your head.

Dazai was another person you couldn´t wrap your head around. Were you friends? Were you enemies? Something in between?

“So that´s how you see it…” he mumbled.

“Dazai´s so sadistic, everyone can see you hate my guts, but no he just has to have us work together. I don´t know what he promises himself from that, but it´s Dazai, you never know with him” you thought out loud.

“If you say so…” Akutagawa said in an annoyed tone.

“Why are you even here? I mean, I could´ve found out we were paired up again by myself tomorrow, there was no need for you to tell me in person like this.” you thought out loud.

“I like this place, didn´t know you were here” he lied, looking down to his feet.

You groaned, you really didn´t want to say anything but you just had to.

“You told me the weak don´t deserve to live when we first met, remember? But I´ve always wondered: did you mean the mentally weak or the physically weak? And what about those who evolve to be strong? Either way, you should´ve killed me after that statement” you rambled.

Akutagawa held his breath, how were you able to scratch at his walls like that? Question him like that? And bring up his past and personal issues? How could you read him like that?

“Being weak and thinking you´re weak are two different things” he said flat out, making you laugh.

He frowned. “What´s so funny?” he crossed his arms.

“Nothing, I just didn´t think you actually had a reason not to kill me” your words came out sounding more annoyed than you actually were.

“Tch, you irritate me” Akutagawa said through clenched teeth.

You groaned. “Oh really? Why is that? Because I speak my mind? Are you so unused to that? I have so many more reasons to be irritated by you than you!” you raised your voice, turning to face him.

“I don´t think I have the same effect on you as you have on me” he told you plainly, making you even more confused.

“What the hell is that even supposed to mean? Can´t you just say what you mean once in your life?” you fumed.

“Why should I do that if I don´t know its consequences?” he questioned, now that perplexed you quite a bit. He didn´t seem like a guy who thought about the consequences of his actions.

“You know, maybe I should hate you. It´s easier that way” Akutagawa stated, not waiting for you to say anything, he just vanished without another word.

He left you wondering what just happened.

Great, the day before the mission you really wanted a good night´s sleep, but now he ruined it.

You hated your brain for it but you would think about him all night, unable to sleep.

You also hated your predictions to become true in the next morning when you had to meet up with Akutagawa.

Luckily his declaration of last night also meant he ignored you, you really weren´t in the mood for talking.

All the talking was broken down into information necessary for the mission.

In silence the two of you walked to the location, at first you thought you were too late, but in fact you were just in time.

Well, too late for the plan you worked so hard and long on, but just in time to step into action and stop Mimic´s leader who was about to kill Odasaku, Dazai´s friend.

Normally you would´ve waited and hidden in a safe spot before raiding the enemy´s base.

Now without thinking, with a mere second of analyzing the situation, you dashed forward in between the two men who were about to shoot each other.

Everything that happened happened in an instance, so fast, it almost felt like forever.

You saw something rushing toward you from the corner of your eye and the next thing you knew, black matter stabbed Mimic´s leader to death and red light illuminated you, acting as an armor, a shield of sorts.

It felt warm and yet it was over as soon as it began.

“What are you guys doing here?” Odasaku spoke up before you could voice your confusion.

Quickly you pushed the thought of what the fuck just happened to the back of your head and gave a short mission report.

“Well, some bird told us you got yourself in trouble and it´s our mission to take out Mimic anyway, so it´s kinda like killing two birds with one stone, right?” you smiled at him.

“I guess, but I had it under control” he defended himself.

“You were just about to get killed, I wouldn´t say that gives the impression of being under control”

You commented, still not grasping how lucky you were, how perfectly in time. You had to commend yourself for thinking so fast, you didn´t think you still had it in you.

“Yeah, you might be right. Well, thanks for saving me again” he showed his gratitude and went back to the mafia´s base with Akutagawa.

“Wait a second, Akutagawa!” you caught up to him.

“What was that just now? I didn´t know your ability is able of defense, you have to tell Dazai, I think he´ll be proud of you” you complimented him.

He stared at you for a while in his cold, emotionless manner, but his eyes were different than normally, there was something soft in them.

“I didn´t really think about it” he admitted.

“Well, either way, you did a good job today. Intentionally or not, you saved me, thank you. I mean it” you told him, trying to look him in the eyes but it was like he was looking right through you.

“Like I said, I didn´t mean to do it, I just did” he said sharply and joined Odasaku on his way.

You didn´t know what you expected, but some part of you had hoped he did it intentionally.

And that part hurt like hell right now.

It was ridiculous and you knew it but for some reason he got to you and you despised it.

This feeling made you so unable to concentrate and feel dizzy and it was just horrible.

You felt utter defeat when you walked back to the Rag Doll.

And as if that wasn´t enough, Dazai was the first thing that caught your eye.

He sat at the bar, flirting with the barmaid and when he saw you, he gave you an amused look.

“What´s so funny, Osamu?” you weren´t in the mood for his twisted schemes today.

“Oh nothing, just the way you can break people. I never thought my subordinate would let you get to him, and yet… and yet he hasn´t been able to think straight ever since he met you.” he sounded disgusted, like a child whose toy has been broken. Maybe it was boredom as well, you could never tell with Dazai.

You sighed and shook your head, you didn´t know whether you should laugh or cry.

“What are you trying to achieve, Dazai? I can´t handle your bullshit today, so why don´t you just tell me your true intentions for once?” you groaned, oh how you wished you could just be at home in your bed right now, away from everything that´s been going on.

“I could ask you the same thing. You accused me of not caring about Akutagawa, but if I didn´t care why would I have saved him? And yes, maybe I did fuck up in raising him, how could I not? I have never done this before. But I know one thing: if he wants to survive in this cruel world, he has to be strong. And he has to be selfish, because the world is too, nobody will care about him and he has to learn that. I can´t have you breaking his heart, I can´t have you trying to fix him, I can´t let you make him let his guard down. Because that way the world will eat him alive” Dazai told you and for once he was honest. That didn´t mean his words didn´t hurt you.

“I´m sorry, Dazai. For doubting you. You´re right, I shouldn´t be around him… but why do you keep pairing us up if you know that?” you felt your lungs squeeze together, cutting off the air, making it hard to breathe. Your heart ached and your hands started to shake as you desperately tried to fight back the tears, it was semi-working.

He chuckled, looking at you with something you could only identify as pity.

“I see the way he looks at you, Akutagawa is always so angry and stern. You somehow manage to calm him down. I´m not stupid, (Y/N). I know what you feel for him. I´m sorry about the way my words came out before, I just wanted to make sure your feelings were honest. I don´t think there´s anyone better for him than you. I have a feeling that you can tear down his walls, maybe make him more sociable… we´ll see. Either way I´m excited to see where this is going”

Dazai smiled at you.

“You´re making this seem as if I actually stand a chance...” you mumbled, you knew exactly what Akutagawa thought of you, he wouldn´t ever see you the same way you saw him.

“Dazai-san, is it true what you said? Does (Y/N) really….? Oh, excuse me”

Akutagawa came rushing through the entrance, he didn´t even see you until Dazai cleared his throat and pointed at you.

“Yes, she likes you back. I´ll leave you two alone now” Dazai mentioned casually before he left.

You almost choked on your breath and blushed heavily, you thought now was a good time to escape but your legs wouldn´t listen to you.

Both of you said nothing for a while and who could blame you? This was what one would call an exceptional awkward situation.

Akutagawa was the first to find his voice again while you were still thinking about your escape route.

“So… is it true?” he asked, not meeting your eyes. His voice was low, like he was trying to suppress something.

You gave up trying to run, what was the point in it?

“Yes” a simple word, taking a leap of faith, you let out the breath you didn´t know you held.

You couldn´t even look into his eyes, too scared of what his reaction might be.

Whatever horrible things you imagined didn´t happen.

Instead Akutagawa was… coughing? And that rather heavily.

You rushed over to him and placed your hand on his shoulder gently.

“Are you alright? Can I do something?” you asked, but he just shook his head.

After a few minutes he was done coughing and looked sideways in embarrassment.

“You too make me feel… things” he bluntly stated, making your heart beat faster.

You smiled at him and took his hand and he let you.

[rmfaye-blog]

application

tw: violence, death 

Ruin is a potent word. Evocative enough. Visceral. It’s a slipknot of a syllable, and only one at that. On better days, something more palatable. Pill-sized.

And it is that small. Nearly mundane, to the point of being thoroughly unremarkable. I’d rather spare the details I wouldn’t mull over myself—be it the meticulous choice of language. The sheer drama of metaphor. Whatever.

Whatever.

Ruin is enough.

The first thing that comes to mind is “hereditary.” Two expats with flight abilities who remain landlocked on an island south of the Malay peninsula.Two people that couldn’t cave to the pull of the compass needle and instead remain two feet planted firm. Two parents that decide that there’s joy in confined, domestic spaces: a three-story Newton condominium built off of exploited labor. Milk spoiling in the fridge. Baby teeth kept in a jar.

I was fine, at first. Great, actually. Nothing I liked more than the security of four walls. Marked territory in its own right. The ticker had been the second I’d turned thirteen, when something flicked on in my brain. Warped. Uncertain. Then it went haywire. Television snow for vision, but it’s soaked red to the last pixel. Every nerve pulsing.

Had anyone had taken my skull and cracked it in two, they might’ve seen it then. Right inside the fleshy, worm-pink of the cerebrum: an unusually large amygdala, perhaps. A shriveled fold where the prefrontal cortex resides.

My parents, however, had the misfortune of knowing too much and understanding too little. Animal-based mutation runs in the family, but mine was a whole different kind of breed.

I have to give it to them. They tried their hardest. Home schooling until they couldn’t at fourteen, a false diagnosis for intermittent explosive disorder in case I raise hell. But even the most patient forms of love can wear thin.

In some cases, neither patience nor love can do anything at all.

Gumi is a conundrum of a memory. If I wanted to be the poster girl for their PR department, I might have hailed it as the “sanctuary” for folks of our sort. But that’s not a position I’d gun for. I’m self aware at least. Self aware with a crippling habit of looking at the mirror and thinking vanish. Vanish.

Vanish.

I took to Hellion, Hellion took to me. A straight shot that hit bulls’ eye. Their dorm building allowed for some semblance of normalcy, that much was reassuring.

I can’t tell you about what happened on those hunts. The island. Inside the cage. Again, details. There are two people who have long graduated, but they have the teeth marks to show for it. Along their spine, back of the neck, the inner flesh of their arms. Battle scars, for the times they can glow with pride.

A few reminders out of many, on all of mine.

It’s funny how the little things turn you inside out. A shift in position. A loose strand of hair. A single malign cell.

For me, it’d been a phone call.

That’s another time I don’t speak of either. Neither does the one who was with me that night. People speak about their childhood terrors, the shadows that creep along their walls, of the hollow judgement that echoes in the word of raw guilt. And all I can say is, talk to me when you know grief.

Talk to me when you know about the way it crawls, tears into your ribs. When it scratches through the walls, the wood of the headboard, and when that isn’t enough it’s the skin of another person and then your own—but it’s not your own, that’s not your nails that claw into muscle, the screams that stun the hall into silence—and it isn’t enough, enough,

Enough,

Enough.

ENOUGH.

“What’s your damage?” Is what my therapist of six years likes to ask me in lieu of a greeting, tongue-in-cheek, demure smile pressed into the heel of her palm. And I laugh. Or smile. Depending on the hour, the flux of my mood. Call-and-response. For someone who’s gone through so little I talk way too fucking much.

Some days it’s about how the daffodils in my window box have bloomed earlier than expected. Or I’d seen a white cat run with a fledgling limp in its mouth. Other days, an infomercial on salvation during breakfast spurs a monologue on how God now requires collateral. Investment. (”Well you’re my project here too, Faye.” “As if I don’t know that, Jinah.” Then we’d laugh.)

The previous session had been about DNA. How my father, with FLIGHT sewn into his atoms was overtaken by one that commanded ROT. My father, uselessly stubborn as he was patient.

A mutant defeated by a mutation of all things. The irony stings, a hard slap to the cheek.

I had to take a gap year before returning to my graduate studies. A year that led me to everywhere and nowhere—the pillow held to my mouth in the solitary confines of my room, hands reaching for the peak of Kilimanjaro on an entirely different continent.

I don’t know what I was trying to hold in, let alone was searching for. I must’ve succeeded in both endeavors to have returned.

It’s that, or that fat sum of money for my PhD that had me leave my poor mother behind in Hong Kong to crawl back to Incheon.

Whatever helps me sleep better at night.

An ‘I’ in ruin. An 'I’ to personalize, hold to the rapture like a flame. It’s the most dangerous pronoun.

For: I stand next to you in ruin.

Ru(i)n (I) run I run

So I run.

Feral mind is an ability where the user is thrown into a state of pure violent, animalistic fury. During this time, one’s most primal instincts are kicked into high gear, namely the fight or flight dichotomy—the former a more common occurrence when compared to the latter. The pupils dilate to a disturbing degree, and any last bit of human conditioning (language, socialized behavior, rationale, etc.) ceases to exist. In its place, more creature-like tendencies take shape, be it through body language or nonverbal sounds such as hissing and growling. Familiar faces are rendered prey, and the damage that follows is often critically irreversible. Traits such as strength, stamina and reflexes are also enhanced—what was once impossible to break with average human ability is done almost effortlessly.

This ability can only activated by some form of trigger; with Faye, it’s anything that causes an emotional/mental imbalance, be it by forced or natural means. Her time at Gumi has allowed her to fine tune the ability to initiate this power at will—focusing on a negatively charged memory usually does the trick. Bringing Faye back to her “ground” state proves to be difficult even to this day, though it has significantly improved since the power first manifested. Hours of meditation, intensive emotionally-focused therapy and anger management have allowed for some improvement. In cases where her enraged state don’t cease, tranquilizers have been used as a last resort (she keeps a few on her person, just in case).

WEAKNESSES

Episodes of rage last between twenty minutes to two whole hours, depending on the emotional intensity and  physical condition of the user. Naturally, the longer one remains in that spell, the more weakened they’ll become in the aftermath. cases of sudden burnout, fainting and collapsing are not uncommon.

Weights up to five times her weight (~500-600lb) can be lifted with ease—anything that exceeds that amount will only increase in difficulty, with 1000lb (about one-fourth of the total weight of a car) being her absolute limit. Even then, such amounts can only be held for about 15 seconds or less.

Running speeds go up to twice the rate of the maximum human rate, averaging in around 30-35mph, with distances lasting up to only 2-5 miles.

Users with strength, speed, and tranquility-based abilities could wear down and potentially overpower those with feral minds.

Incapable of deflecting injury. Any that are received do carry over, regardless of the degree of severity. This also applies to how one’s ability use: in that state, running over 20 miles an hour is a walk in the park, but the soreness will be present long after they’re returned back to “normal.”

The more frequently feral mind is in use, the more prone the user is to mental and emotional stability in their normal state. The probability of mood swings and emotional outbursts do increase, as do the chances that their “human” personality might slip from them entirely.